Now that his fingers were deeper the King slowed down, deliberately dragging and twisting on every pull out. But something was off, the movements were mechanical but unfocused. It took Viv a moment but soon he was chuckling fondly, "Stop trying to find it. Just... you being there feels good, I promise."
"Elusive little bastard," the King grumbled, and Viv tried to hold in another laugh. "Every time I think I've got 'im perfectly mapped--"
"Relax," Viv said, grinning over his shoulder. "I thought you were all about taking your time right now."
"True enough," the King said, pressing a kiss into Viv's shoulder, his lips warm through the fabric of Viv's shirt. He called off the search and went back to his slow, languid exploration of Viv's body, massaging the inside of him with firm fingertips, every movement savored. They were just at the point where the spit was no help but Viv's body had grown accustomed to the invasion, and the combination of the prickling friction from the King's fingers and the soft, featherlight kisses he was trailing on Viv's neck were providing a delicious balance in warring sensations.
The heat gathered in his gut lurched fiercely when fingertips brushed against that tight bundle of nerves, and his entire body reacted, writhing and the King's voice was rich with satisfaction when he said, "There it is."
Viv gave a shaky laugh. "Yes. You found it. Don't you dare let it get away." His hands curled into fists as the King worked his fingers against it with every drag, pleasure rippling through him and coiling tight inside his core as though he'd been waiting for it for ages instead of days. His rigid length was brushing against his belly, leaking precome smearing lightly against the path of hair trailing under his navel.
Warm lips latched onto a spot on his neck, and Viv gave a wet gasp at the feeling of his skin being sucked between teeth, the sharp little sting of the bruise he'd be touching all day tomorrow, the little marks the King temporarily added to this roadmap of scars covering Viv's body. The bed jostled as the King shifted again and Viv felt a hard cloth-covered bulge briefly brush against his ass, and the strained noise the barest of contact drew out of the King.
His own voice sounded hazy and strange when he panted against his knuckles, "When you're done, baby, I'll take such good care of you."
"If you do anything more'n fall back to sleep when I'm done here," the King said, "then I ain't done my job."
The promise itself was sweet. But it was the fact that the put-on accent had frayed and scattered that really made Viv's stomach flip.
M!Courier/The King - Light My Mornin' Sky [2c/2]
"Elusive little bastard," the King grumbled, and Viv tried to hold in another laugh. "Every time I think I've got 'im perfectly mapped--"
"Relax," Viv said, grinning over his shoulder. "I thought you were all about taking your time right now."
"True enough," the King said, pressing a kiss into Viv's shoulder, his lips warm through the fabric of Viv's shirt. He called off the search and went back to his slow, languid exploration of Viv's body, massaging the inside of him with firm fingertips, every movement savored. They were just at the point where the spit was no help but Viv's body had grown accustomed to the invasion, and the combination of the prickling friction from the King's fingers and the soft, featherlight kisses he was trailing on Viv's neck were providing a delicious balance in warring sensations.
The heat gathered in his gut lurched fiercely when fingertips brushed against that tight bundle of nerves, and his entire body reacted, writhing and the King's voice was rich with satisfaction when he said, "There it is."
Viv gave a shaky laugh. "Yes. You found it. Don't you dare let it get away." His hands curled into fists as the King worked his fingers against it with every drag, pleasure rippling through him and coiling tight inside his core as though he'd been waiting for it for ages instead of days. His rigid length was brushing against his belly, leaking precome smearing lightly against the path of hair trailing under his navel.
Warm lips latched onto a spot on his neck, and Viv gave a wet gasp at the feeling of his skin being sucked between teeth, the sharp little sting of the bruise he'd be touching all day tomorrow, the little marks the King temporarily added to this roadmap of scars covering Viv's body. The bed jostled as the King shifted again and Viv felt a hard cloth-covered bulge briefly brush against his ass, and the strained noise the barest of contact drew out of the King.
His own voice sounded hazy and strange when he panted against his knuckles, "When you're done, baby, I'll take such good care of you."
"If you do anything more'n fall back to sleep when I'm done here," the King said, "then I ain't done my job."
The promise itself was sweet. But it was the fact that the put-on accent had frayed and scattered that really made Viv's stomach flip.