Arthur’s back is aching, his throat is scratchy, and his wrists are sore. He has no idea how long Eames has been riding him; it must be well over the two hour mark now. Eames is rocking back and forth in hard, unrelenting thrusts. One hand flies over his cock while the other rests at the juncture of Arthur’s neck and shoulder. Arthur’s mouth is hanging open on silent moans, unable to do anything but strain against the cuffs that are locking him to the bed frame.
Arthur’s angling upward, trying to meet Eames’ pace, but Eames shifts at that point, circling his hips in achingly slow, wide motions. “Eames,” Arthur pants and Eames arches his back before diving forward and taking Arthur’s lips, hard and wanting. The cock ring is tight, so tight, around the base of Arthur’s cock; he needs to come but he’s not ready to beg for it yet.
The whole thing had come about, a week ago. Arthur was fucking Eames on his back, pounding into him with Eames’ legs over his shoulders. Eames was grunting beneath him, hands clawing at Arthur’s shoulders when Arthur gasped out, “Do you wanna stop?”
Eames’ eyes snapped to him, wide. “Does it bloody well look like I wanna stop?”
Arthur shook his head wildly. “No, I mean..” he rolled his hips upward and Eames arched beneath him. “Oh, fuck, I am. Condoms.. using.. do you..”
“Oh my God,” Eames said and then he was coming all over them. Arthur assumed that was a yes.
Afterwards, they both admitted they hadn’t slept with anyone else since ‘fucking while it’s convenient’ had somehow morphed into ‘I’m practically living with you.’ Eames said he’d had a physical last month while Arthur produced a copy of his latest blood work from a large black binder, organized in date order.
Eames said he wanted this to be special. His exact words were, “I want you to fuck me all night until I can’t stand it anymore, until my body doesn’t remember what it’s like when you’re not in it. I want you to remind me how empty I feel without my dick inside you.” Naturally, he said this while he was licking between Arthur’s thighs, his tongue teasing against Arthur’s ass.
So Eames retrieved the items from the bottom drawer of Arthur’s (their) nightstand and Arthur went about lighting candles because he liked them, okay?
___________________________
Eames doesn’t stop kissing him, parting Arthur’s lips with his tongue and licking between them, hot and deep. All Arthur can focus on is the warmth of Eames’ mouth and the devastating heat of his ass. Then Eames drags his hand away from his cock (moaning, Arthur assumes, at the loss) and places both hands on the bed. He whispers against Arthur’s lips, “Bend your knees for me.” Arthur doesn’t need to be told twice. Eames is on his hands and knees, arching his spine letting himself fall halfway out of Arthur. Arthur’s slides his heels up the bed and tenses his thighs. He fucks up into Eames in sharp angled thrusts and knows he’s hitting his prostate with every stroke by the sounds falling from Eames’ lips.
They set a delicious rhythm; Eames pushing back while Arthur fucks up into him, Eames moans on every upstroke, muttering “good, oh my god it feels so good.”
Arthur can feel the frenzied movement between their bodies; can feel the backs of Eames’ knuckles brushing against his stomach with every stroke.
Arthur knows the only reason Eames still has stamina is because he came when they started this – with Arthur’s hands cuffed to the bed frame and Eames feeding him his cock, his mouth on Arthur’s jaw, lightly stroking. Arthur moaned around his mouthful, breathing deeply through his nose and smelling only sex, musk and Eames, Eames, Eames.
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timeasmymeasure
fic: Fill Your Heart 1/2
Date: 2011-04-28 11:55 pm (UTC)Arthur’s back is aching, his throat is scratchy, and his wrists are sore. He has no idea how long Eames has been riding him; it must be well over the two hour mark now. Eames is rocking back and forth in hard, unrelenting thrusts. One hand flies over his cock while the other rests at the juncture of Arthur’s neck and shoulder. Arthur’s mouth is hanging open on silent moans, unable to do anything but strain against the cuffs that are locking him to the bed frame.
Arthur’s angling upward, trying to meet Eames’ pace, but Eames shifts at that point, circling his hips in achingly slow, wide motions. “Eames,” Arthur pants and Eames arches his back before diving forward and taking Arthur’s lips, hard and wanting. The cock ring is tight, so tight, around the base of Arthur’s cock; he needs to come but he’s not ready to beg for it yet.
The whole thing had come about, a week ago. Arthur was fucking Eames on his back, pounding into him with Eames’ legs over his shoulders. Eames was grunting beneath him, hands clawing at Arthur’s shoulders when Arthur gasped out, “Do you wanna stop?”
Eames’ eyes snapped to him, wide. “Does it bloody well look like I wanna stop?”
Arthur shook his head wildly. “No, I mean..” he rolled his hips upward and Eames arched beneath him. “Oh, fuck, I am. Condoms.. using.. do you..”
“Oh my God,” Eames said and then he was coming all over them. Arthur assumed that was a yes.
Afterwards, they both admitted they hadn’t slept with anyone else since ‘fucking while it’s convenient’ had somehow morphed into ‘I’m practically living with you.’ Eames said he’d had a physical last month while Arthur produced a copy of his latest blood work from a large black binder, organized in date order.
Eames said he wanted this to be special. His exact words were, “I want you to fuck me all night until I can’t stand it anymore, until my body doesn’t remember what it’s like when you’re not in it. I want you to remind me how empty I feel without my dick inside you.” Naturally, he said this while he was licking between Arthur’s thighs, his tongue teasing against Arthur’s ass.
So Eames retrieved the items from the bottom drawer of Arthur’s (their) nightstand and Arthur went about lighting candles because he liked them, okay?
___________________________
Eames doesn’t stop kissing him, parting Arthur’s lips with his tongue and licking between them, hot and deep. All Arthur can focus on is the warmth of Eames’ mouth and the devastating heat of his ass. Then Eames drags his hand away from his cock (moaning, Arthur assumes, at the loss) and places both hands on the bed. He whispers against Arthur’s lips, “Bend your knees for me.” Arthur doesn’t need to be told twice. Eames is on his hands and knees, arching his spine letting himself fall halfway out of Arthur. Arthur’s slides his heels up the bed and tenses his thighs. He fucks up into Eames in sharp angled thrusts and knows he’s hitting his prostate with every stroke by the sounds falling from Eames’ lips.
They set a delicious rhythm; Eames pushing back while Arthur fucks up into him, Eames moans on every upstroke, muttering “good, oh my god it feels so good.”
Arthur can feel the frenzied movement between their bodies; can feel the backs of Eames’ knuckles brushing against his stomach with every stroke.
Arthur knows the only reason Eames still has stamina is because he came when they started this – with Arthur’s hands cuffed to the bed frame and Eames feeding him his cock, his mouth on Arthur’s jaw, lightly stroking. Arthur moaned around his mouthful, breathing deeply through his nose and smelling only sex, musk and Eames, Eames, Eames.