caycay | IC Inbox

[ de previo ]

[...ah. well, Leona is only mortal. it's his own grave he's dug, and he'll have to deal with the consequences. it isn't fair, really, how he doesn't want Cater to lean away. why'd he come up with the stupid idea of bothering to get undressed in the first place, again? certainly there were steps to skip—

but Leona steps out of his jeans, and there are no underwear as a buffer between Cater's eyes and Leona's not-hard-but-definitely-not-fully-flaccid dick. there's no reason to be ashamed, of course, which is why Leona says nothing, just— moves the way he should, to help get himself fully bare.]

[Once again, the energy has shifted. Maybe it was inevitable, once clothes had started coming off. For once, Cater hadn't at all been angling for this...but he can't say he's displeased with the outcome, either. If the simple thought of our clothes will get wet is going to end up as something this much more intimate, well, might as well keep going.

Still, while Cater's not shy about taking in an eyeful (it's hard not to, when he has to bend down to finish pulling down Leona's pants, and to discard them from the tub once he's stepped free of them), something stops him from just going for it the way he'd so boldly touched Leona's tail. It's not exactly that he felt apprehension...but that it felt against the spirit of this whole night to turn this into something blatantly sexual.

Not yet. Not so fast.

Cater's hands slide up Leona's thighs as he straightens up again. Exploring the other pieces of skin he'd yet to see and feel for himself. His eyes slide up Leona's body to his face again as he presses their bodies back together, a slight question in his gaze as he tries to determine which one of them is going to be undressing him in return.]

[Leona's answer comes not in his gaze but in the immediate reach of his hands to grasp at Cater's shirt. he is insistent, even if not urgent. whether or not it is proper or right for a prince to be on this end of service is not on Leona's mind. he is focused only on taking Cater for himself, selfishly, selfishly.

that shirt gets flung to the side once Cater's let Leona take it off, and as much as Leona'd like to just press himself flush to him, he isn't done. he starts at Cater's belt next, settling for once again gently bumping his forehead to Cater's, a coded level of affection.]

[Leona's leaving no uncertainty. His clothes are being removed as if they're in a hurry--and how can Cater not respond to that kind of need? Cater had been met with plenty of different attitudes and energies with his explorations in intimacy, the different partners he's had. But this was the first time that he felt not necessarily just desired but needed. The desperate, greedy urgency--Cater could get addicted to being handled like this. Dangerous.

It's going to be harder for them to get his pants off this way but Cater can't wait--with their foreheads together he tilts his lips up to kiss Leona again, this time harder than the last one, at the same time assertive and inviting. He didn't need words to tell Leona that it was okay to take as much of him as he wanted. It was like they had said: if they wanted it, they should take it. And they'd just established there wasn't necessarily a too much, with each other, hadn't they?]

[Leona indulges him with that kiss for a little, matching Cater's insistence, forgetting his task himself. there's no reason to rush, right? what does time even mean anymore?

but eventually his hands recall what they were doing, and the belt gets tugged away and dropped onto the floor. the slide of a zipper, and Leona starts shoving down Cater's pants, too, finally— if reluctantly— breaking their hungry kiss to make it easier.

it's fine, though. as much as he's into it, there's more places on Cater's body he'd like to put his mouth.]

[When their kiss breaks this time, Cater's breathing harder, panting as Leona moves down his body. Almost on instinct, as soon as he's stepped out of his bottoms he's found his hands in Leona's hair, fingers brushing past those coarsely-furred ears as they slide farther back. He is definitely not flaccid, himself, Leona fill find--but is that all that surprising, now?

The sensations were all colored so differently from how Cater was used to them. Shapes and hues dancing across his vision that had evolved from what they were before. That peaceful softness was being edged out for something more vibrant. If Leona wanted to taste him more, Cater wanted to be tasted more. To see for himself just how those lips and those sharp teeth and that rough tongue felt on his body.]

Leona...

[Cater only breathes his name, but it certainly sounds like a plea for more. Maybe being devoured by a lion wouldn't be nearly as bad as one would expect.]

[perhaps it isn't surprising, but it's certainly gratifying, the way Cater wants him. Leona could certainly get used to the sound of his name said that way.

Cater's scent is heady with his arousal and as Leona eases himself back up, he keeps his mouth open. he breathes in, dipping toward Cater's collarbone and dragging his tongue up the skin to Cater's neck until Leona can get his mouth on it.

yes, there is a bath to run, water to soak in, but that can wait until after Leona's teeth have left little red dents in Cater's skin. he wraps his arms around Cater just so that he can drag those claws down Cater's back in a long, languid motion with little greater aim than just the experience, than just the touch. every touch feels so much more exciting than before— so how could he not indulge? was an experience this rich not made for someone like him?]

[Fuck--oh, fuck it felt so good. Each nip that left his skin tender was like a firework going off in his brain. Claws on his skin--not too hard as to damage him but just enough to really feel them--were like matches getting struck to life. But the burn was perfect, a fire that activated his nerves. He's like putty in Leona's hands and he knows it, but doesn't care if it makes him look pathetic. How can he care, when being pathetic feels so perfect?

Cater's body curves into Leona's, his own hell-granted claws massaging their way down his scalp, the back of his neck, and his shoulders before finally finding purchase to hold himself to him. Indulgent was a good word for all that this was. Even if Cater was the one who was being indulged upon, there was no way not to feel the effects for himself.]

[Leona's ears flick about as Cater touches him back. it's nearly overwhelming to be held like this, but Leona isn't interested in stopping. he presses his teeth down harder, not to pierce but to bruise. perhaps their bodies heal fast, but that's fine. he'll just have to do this over, and over, and over, eventually, to cover Cater's body in little rings until he knows his place.

but when his bite is nice and set he pulls away to take a breath, punctuating it with a kiss to the spot he's left— and then preoccupies himself with picking Cater up to lift him into the bath with him. Leona wants to be close to Cater, but he also wants to be laying in the water, wants to be off his feet. it's a bit awkward getting down there but eventually he gets himself laid against the tub's side, Cater effectively pulled into his lap, Leona's broad palm on Cater's inner thigh.]

[Far from fighting against getting lifted, Cater uses his hands at Leona's shoulders as leverage to help with the momentum--not that Leona would have any trouble on his own, mind you. He was just eager to do as Leona pleased, picking up every cue to respond in turn. Somehow, in the span of time between them getting naked and now, he'd forgotten all about where they actually were, the tub they had been meaning to actually get into.

It catches up with him, now, though really it's just a backdrop as he settles in against Leona's chest. This time, it's his turn to press kiss after kiss to the lion's skin, not the same possessive bites but no less needy as he works his way up his neck and to his mouth again.

Seven, he was so eager to feel that big hand all over him, as comforting as it was just to have it on his skin at all. His leg falls open a bit more widely, welcoming Leona to explore wherever he pleased.]

[Cater earns sound out of Leona as well, these low and rumbling little moans, quiet but apparent all the same. every kiss returns those sparks Cater was feeling right back to Leona, who revels in that same feeling of being adored, wanted, needed. Cater needs like he's a professional, and Leona is far too pleased to be the object of his desire right now.

but Leona desire must be sated too, and he drags his hand up Cater's thigh, cups Cater's erection in his warm grip. he's wanted to touch him for so long, it feels like, that the relief of doing so is immeasurable. his own cock twitches against Cater's thigh, moved by Cater's responsiveness. it's all Leona wants— to keep being needed, to keep being wanted, to keep sating Cater's hunger.]

IC Inbox - Heckin

> from Shrooms thread

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject