[The moment is close. He can tell as much, even lacking experience, by the taste on his tongue — slicker and sharper, heady — by the swelling of flesh, and the restless movement of limbs beneath him. Already his mind plunges ahead to the delirium of how it will feel to swallow Laurent whole when he comes. He's never cared for his own release, sought furtively alone less on the basis of pleasure than frustration. He had thought he would care even less for someone else's. Yet now, bent over Laurent's lap, he can think of nothing but the bottomless hunger inside of himself to see this done, to consume everything, to feel it happen.
A noise of protest, guttural as a growl, touches his lips briefly when he's pulled off. It fades at the look on Laurent's face, when their gazes cross. The blue of those eyes seems impossible — dark as an ocean, melted, framed by golden lashes. The contrast of Laurent's hot, flushed cheeks is striking. He has already resigned himself to the knowledge that Laurent is attractive, but now he seems the most beautiful person Sasuke has ever seen, male or female, in his life. It sits behind the ribs of his chest like a jewel. Burning, dangerous sapphire.
Sasuke starts to rise up, using the hinge of their joined hands, possessed with the sudden need to kiss that mouth — even with his own still messy and wet from cock. He does not get that far, instead pushed back down and directed into a rhythm. His mouth is soft, yielding as it obeys this, swallowing over and over, faster, throat working around saliva and the taste of Laurent, masculine and heady.
He can feel the persistent throb of his own arousal squeezed between his legs, like an insatiable fire stronger than it has ever been. With all the strength in the upper half of his body, Sasuke holds him down so that he won't twist away at the last instant, so that he can take everything into his mouth when it comes in that rush of heat. It becomes too important; as if given the opportunity, here at the end, Laurent will try to escape him.
I want. What does he want? Whatever it is, Sasuke will kill to give. He knows that then.]
no subject
A noise of protest, guttural as a growl, touches his lips briefly when he's pulled off. It fades at the look on Laurent's face, when their gazes cross. The blue of those eyes seems impossible — dark as an ocean, melted, framed by golden lashes. The contrast of Laurent's hot, flushed cheeks is striking. He has already resigned himself to the knowledge that Laurent is attractive, but now he seems the most beautiful person Sasuke has ever seen, male or female, in his life. It sits behind the ribs of his chest like a jewel. Burning, dangerous sapphire.
Sasuke starts to rise up, using the hinge of their joined hands, possessed with the sudden need to kiss that mouth — even with his own still messy and wet from cock. He does not get that far, instead pushed back down and directed into a rhythm. His mouth is soft, yielding as it obeys this, swallowing over and over, faster, throat working around saliva and the taste of Laurent, masculine and heady.
He can feel the persistent throb of his own arousal squeezed between his legs, like an insatiable fire stronger than it has ever been. With all the strength in the upper half of his body, Sasuke holds him down so that he won't twist away at the last instant, so that he can take everything into his mouth when it comes in that rush of heat. It becomes too important; as if given the opportunity, here at the end, Laurent will try to escape him.
I want. What does he want? Whatever it is, Sasuke will kill to give. He knows that then.]