nathaniel_kitten | Incubus Dreams

Incubus Dreams - October 16th-18th

Since their discussion with Anita, Asher and Nathaniel haven't really discussed much. They've simply been enjoying the freedom without guilt Anita's acceptance has allowed them. But Nathaniel knows there is something they really do need to talk about. As reluctant as he is to break the comfortable joy Asher and he have been savoring, he knows better than to let something fester.

Nathaniel climbs into bed with Asher, sitting beside the dead form of his lover, and waits for the sun to set enough for Asher to wake. He smiles faintly, brushing his fingers through beautiful golden hair, his heart tightening with how much he feels for Asher. It never lessens, that gut-turning need to be close to Asher and never let go, and Nathaniel never wants it to become less intense.

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And Nathaniel just barely remains still. He feels warmth in his chest at the compliment, though it is quickly lost under the new anticipation of what Asher can do with the non-silver knife pressed to his arm. Nathaniel knows his body would heal that damage almost instantly, but the initial pain of it would be exquisite.

His eyes focus on Asher's face, watching the expression there, watching his lover's eyes. Nathaniel positively adores being the center of such extreme focus.

Nothing exists outside this bed, outside the soft sighs and moans, the whisper of skin against sheets. he keeps his eyes on Nathaniel's, holding that connection as he lets the knife slide slowly lower, onto his chest, tracing circles around his initial.

All he wants to do is please Asher. Pleasure had in that pursuit is simply icing on the cake for Nathaniel.

His nipples draw up tightly around the rings through them, and a shiver runs down his spine. The stinging pain of the initial is only enhanced by the brief sting of the new knife, the pain there one moment, gone the next, leaving on drops of blood in its wake as testament to the act.

Asher tugs gently on the chain as he runs the knife lower, carefully tracing the lines of each muscle in Nathaniel's stomach, pressing deeper here and there, never in a pattern that Nathaniel will be able to predict.

Nathaniel presses his face into the crook of his arm as he squirms, crying out softly each time the knife does bite into him. His toes curl into the bed, thighs slightly parted, and he whimpers. It's not the overwhelming pain he was once used to, but it's no less intense, no less arousing.

Nathaniel is learning exactly what Asher wished him to; that the pain doesn't have to overwhelm, doesn't have to be strong, to break one apart completely.

He doesn't wish that tonight, however. He's curious to see if Nathaniel can come, purely from pain. He stays away from Nathaniel's genitals, knowing his history, how much he dislikes it, instead carving wide spirals into the skin of his inner thigh, just above his right knee.

A loud, shuddering cry leaves his throat as the pain just slowly, beautifully builds. It makes his whole body tremble, his thighs tensing. Nathaniel knows his body very well, knows what else is building steadily, though he tries to be good. He tries to hold back as that knife trails over his flesh, biting in, teasing there, and driving him positively mad without a fount of blood or blinding pain.

Asher bows his head, slowly running his tongue up the underside of Nathaniel's cock, dipping into the slit at the top, unable to help himself.

He pulls away, slowly, scoring two deeper cuts on Nathaniel's hip, bowing his head to suck upon them, feed on his leopard.

"Come, mon chat," he purrs through blood-slicked lips, "Come when you wish."

The sharp, intense pain over his hip, the sting made worse by Asher's lips, is all it takes. Even without that command, he would have come. Nathaniel screams, overwhelmed more by emotion than the pain itself. He feels safe, even bound, blood, with Asher cutting into him, he has never felt safer.

Nathaniel writhes, arms pulling at his bonds, as he makes soft, choked sounds as the tremors slowly stop, his seed cooling already on his stomach. He sags against the mattress, panting, shivering, unable to lift his head from his arm just yet.

Asher wipes both knives clean and sets them aside, moving up the bed to kiss Nathaniel, slowly and sweetly. He unfastens the restraints, gathering Nathaniel's hands in his, kissing the insides of his wrists.

Lavender eyes shining, he stares at Asher with wonder.

"Why did you do that?" he asks, his voice uneven.

Asher smiles, brushing the backs of his fingers down Nathaniel's cheek. He doesn't even care that he's hard, that he hasn't come.

"Why did I do what, cher?" He asks, wanting Nathaniel to ask him more specifically.

Nathaniel wets his lips.

"You made me come. You did it and then you released me and now you're touching me," he says. "You didn't just..."

It baffles him. Asher hadn't hurt him, taken him, and only then let him come.

Asher closes his eyes and kisses Nathaniel again, to distract him from the sadness in Asher's face, the knowledge of how roughly he has been treated.

"Because I wanted to," he murmurs at last. "I wanted to see you come, to watch you take pleasure from my actions."

Nathaniel doesn't fully understand that, but he accepts it as the answer. His lips tingle after the kiss, and he slowly smiles.

"I've never had that done to me," he says, fingers carding through Asher's hair. "I liked it. Thank you."

"You are welcome," he murmurs, kissing Nathaniel again.

"Do you wish to talk now?" He asks, "or recover a little first?"

Nathaniel pushes Asher back, uncaring of stiff muscles or stinging cuts. He doesn't ask, he doesn't even wait. His answer is simply to swallow Asher whole, feeling the vampire's girth in the back of his throat as he holds tightly to Asher's hips. The thing he'd been paid most often to do, the thing that had become so common place to him, is new and enjoyed and happily given to Asher now.

Asher is a little taken aback, letting Nathaniel pounce, breath driven from his lungs as Nathaniel engulfs him, throat working around his cock.

"Mon Dieu," he breathes, "I love your mouth..." Groaning, he fists a hand in Nathaniel's hair.

He knows how much Asher enjoys his mouth. How often does Asher kiss him, spending so much time just doing that? Or those brief moments when, as Nathaniel's smiling, Asher brushes his fingers over his lips? Nathaniel has never forgotten Asher's utter enjoyment the first night he went to his knees for his vampire and sucked him in the middle of the forest.

Nathaniel is ruthless in his actions now. He uses every trick he's learned with tongue, lips, and suction. His throat works around Asher every time his cock enters, and Nathaniel even keeps Asher buried there for long heartbeats, swallowing fiercely.

Asher groans, arching his back, hips rising off the bed as he buries himself deeper in Nathaniel's throat. He's achingly hard after teasing Nathaniel for so long, and it won't take much to push him over the edge.

Nathaniel puts all the skill he can behind it, even snaking a finger between Asher's legs to press against his vampire's opening. Not pushing in, just massage, teasing that sensitive skin as he swallows around the thick flesh invading his throat. Asher had spent so long bringing him such pleasure, pain delivered with a gentle hand, and Nathaniel burns to return the favor, give Asher all the sensation he can.

Asher moans Nathaniel's name, clutching at him as he comes, spilling into Nathaniel's mouth, arching off the bed in a smooth curve. He can't think, can't do any more than gasp for breathe, tugging at Nathaniel until he has his leopard in his arms, warmth curled against him.

Nathaniel purrs, despite his breathless panting, cuddling close to Asher. This was everything to him. Yes, the pain and pleasure were wonderful, and he enjoys it immensely, but this... the moments after... when Asher holds him, kisses him, whispers to him... That's what he treasures most.

He nuzzles Asher's throat, kissing gently, still swallowing the taste of Asher. "I love you," he murmurs, hands touching, his body pressed as close to Asher's as he can manage.

"Je t'aime," he whispers, kissing back, sliding both his hands down Nathaniel's spine, slow and sweet, petting his locer.

"Mon jolie chat."

A soft sigh leaves Nathaniel's lips, and his purr deepens as he relaxes against Asher. It's heavenly, the closeness and petting.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

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