nathaniel_kitten | Asher's Room

Asher's Room

Nathaniel had returned at dawn to find Asher in bed, his hand extended to his empty side of the bed. He'd stood there, smiling. After indulging his desire to drink in every inch of Asher's body, Nathaniel headed into the bathroom, cleaning himself as thoroughly as possible. There's no way he can rid himself of Moon's and Jason's scents utterly, but he doesn't think he really needs to.

Clean, dry, and his hair braided, Nathaniel had crawled into bed with Asher, cuddling close to the cool flesh of his lover. Within minutes, he'd fallen asleep, snuggled under the blankets with his vampire, sated, content, and rather happy.

And it's how Asher will find him with the master vampire wakes for the night, Nathaniel still curled against his side, relaxed and sleeping peacefully.

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As Asher's lips kiss his hip, he shudders, moaning wantonly.

"I don't... understand," he gasps, watching Asher.

"You are mine because you wish to be. Mine because you agree to be." Asher scrapes his fanges down Nathaniel's thigh, licking up the few spots of blood that appear.

"You are not mine because I force you to be so."

Nathaniel trembles, staring at Asher in disbelief. He takes those words and holds tightly to them.

"I'm yours," he whispers, whole body tense, quivering. "You've never forced me to do anything... never."

And that truth just now sinks in.

Asher abandons Nathaniel's thigh for now, moving swiftly up to kiss him deeply, cupping his face in both hands.

The kiss is a surprise, but Nathaniel doesn't fight it. He has no desire to. His arms wrap around Asher's neck, and he whimpers into the kiss. Nathaniel's never felt such passion directed at him -- true passion -- other than with Asher, and he has no intention of ever giving it up. Play is nice, play is fun, but this... this is so much more.

"Mon chat," Asher whispers, pulling back to allow Nathaniel to breathe. "Mon joli chat."

Nathaniel's eyes shine as he stares up at Asher, his fingers combing through his vampire's hair.

"Yes," he whispers back. "Your cat."

This... this feeling, that look in Asher's eyes, it had been worth defying Anita.

"I seem to have become a little distracted," Asher murmurs, sliding back down Nathaniel's body.

"...Where was I?"

Nathaniel groans, eyes following Asher.

"Right about there," he breathes, parting his legs farther, his thigh displayed for Asher.

Asher grins wolfishly, bracing his hand against Nathaniel's knee, straining the muscles a little further, stretching Nathaniel's thigh beneath his mouth.

And finally, he feeds.

Nathaniel cries out, the sound quiet and gentle, and after watching Asher for a moment, he lets his body fall back against the bed. He closes his eyes, to soft sounds of Asher at his thigh filling his senses. It's all about choice, choice he'd never been afforded for, and Asher giving him that choice... it makes him love the vampire all the more.

"Asher," he breathes, arm reaching down, fingers threading through gold.

Asher feeds, just enough to warm his body, to send heat flooding through his veins. He pulls back slowly, turning his head to kiss Nathaniel's wrist, leaving a bloody lip-print.

Leaning across Nathaniel, he grabs a cotton pad off the nightstand, pressing it to Nathaniel's thigh.

Nathaniel's eyes never leave Asher as he lifts his own wrist to his mouth and cleans to skin of his blood. He moans softly, eyes shifting in color, slowly becoming gray-blue as the beast inside tastes blood. It doesn't matter it's his own, it's blood.

Asher tapes down the pad on Nathaniel's thigh before sliding up the bed, kissing Nathaniel's mouth, sharing the taste of Nathaniel's blood, the warmth of his body.

A nip to Asher's lower lip, and Nathaniel begins to purr.

"You're warmer," he breathes, hands sliding over flesh no longer cold.

Asher lets his weight rest against Nathaniel, skin flushing a little more pink, a little softer.

"Because of you," he murmurs, kissing Nathaniel.

Nathaniel devours each kiss, selfishly suckling at Asher's tongue, tasting himself there. Copper and heat. He leaves Asher's mouth after a moment, lips trailing down, ghosting over Asher's throat.

"I'll give you all of me, Asher, if you ever ask me for it," he whispers, and then bites, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to bruise.

Asher gasps softly, shuddering as Nathaniel bites him, arching his neck.

"I will never ask for more than you can give, mon chat," he murmurs. "And nothing I will not give in return."

His tongue traces the imprint of his teeth as he arches against Asher. Nathaniel sucks and nips his way to the other side of Asher's throat.

"I love you," he breathes, and then bites again, this time tasting just a hint of copper as his tongue sweeps over the mark.

"Je t'aime," Asher murmurs, grinding his hips against Nathaniel's as he feels his leopard's teeth break skin. He loves this, loves when Nathaniel takes his own initiative.

It is something Asher is carefully cultivating, never moving Nathaniel faster than Nathaniel is comfortable moving. Little moments of assurance that lead to bigger moments.

As he feels the evidence of Asher's arousal, Nathaniel growls, using his weight to reverse their positions. He stares down at Asher, a curtain of copper surrounding them, and he thrust lightly against him.

Asher groans, his hands moving to Nathaniel's hips, encouraging him to move more, to grind against him.

"I want you to ride me," he murmurs.

Nathaniel does just as Asher's hands urge him to do. He presses himself to Asher forcefully, rubbing against him with a shudder and moan. His cock twitches when Asher says those words. Nathaniel kisses Asher, tongue thrust between perfect lips, caught up for the moment in the simplicity of grinding himself against Asher's body.

When his lungs ache, he pulls back, panting, and reaches over to the bedside table. He grabs the bottle of lube, flicking his long hair over his shoulder, letting it drape over Asher's body. Nathaniel slicks his fingers while he straddles Asher's hips, and then reaches behind himself, two fingers plunging into himself with a moan, his eyes closing briefly.

"Yes, cher," Asher murmurs, wetting his lips as he watches Nathaniel prepare himself. He slides his hands up and down Nathaniel's thighs, shivering at the sweep of auburn hair across his stomach.

"Perfect," he breathes.

Dazed eyes look down as Nathaniel wets parted lips.

"You like to watch me?" he asks, his flesh pricking wherever Asher's hands stroke. He can't help himself; he thrusts his fingers deep, curves them, drags them over his prostate, eliciting a sharp, loud cry from him as he trembles astride Asher.

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