Nathaniel Graison (
nathaniel_kitten) wrote2009-10-13 04:35 pm
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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.
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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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.
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"Perfect," he breathes.
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"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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"You are so beautiful, mon chat."
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He loves this, loves feeling Nathaniel against him, turned on and desperate to be touched, to feel Asher inside him.
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"Want you, Asher," he gasps, almost frantic to couple with his lover. "Please."
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"How did it become so important?" he whispers into Asher's mouth, shifting, feeling Asher slip a little deeper. "When did it become everything?"
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"What, cher?" He asks, softly.
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Nathaniel closes his eyes, beginning to rise and fall slowly in Asher's lap. Each slick slide out is met with a muted whimper, and each smooth glide in pulls a moan from him.
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"Yes," he confesses breathlessly. "It terrifies me."
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"Because I love you... and you can break me."
No one had broken him yet, not really, but Asher... Nathaniel knows that Asher now possesses the power to crush him. He keeps waiting for his love, his trust, his obedience to be used against him, for a punishment to come for too forward of an action, of a word.
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"You have just as much power over me, cher," he continues, kissing Nathaniel's throat, "you just don't use it." He lifts his head to capture Nathaniel's lips with his, the kiss hungry and reassuring all at once.
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"You are Master," he cries out softly, shifting the angle of his hips. "You hold the power."
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"I do nothing without your permission," he murmurs, wondering how long it will take for this to sink in. He may dominate Nathaniel, but he is utterly at the leopard's mercy.
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Nathaniel covers Asher's mouth with his own, silencing any further conversation, focusing on the swivel of his hips, the squeeze of his muscles around Asher. He kisses until his chest burns for air, and only then does he pull back, gasp, and then dive back in for another kiss, always moving, always taking Asher into himself.
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He twines his fingers in Asher's hair, stroking through the gilded strands as he devours Asher's mouth again and again. The deep, slow pace is as intoxicating as any pounding he's taken from his vampire. He nips at Asher's lower lip, eyes gray-blue, and growls softly.
With a sudden movement, Nathaniel has Asher's hair wrapped around his hand and his vampire's head pulled back as he rocks forcefully in Asher's lap. His mouth latches onto Asher's throat, teeth set into pale skin, not yet tearing into flesh, but the power to can be felt in the jaws. Nathaniel, though, continues to rock in Asher's lap, faster, moaning against his throat.
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"Yes, mon chat, yes," he hisses. His nails scrape down Nathaniel's spine, twin trails each side, close to drawing blood.
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As he quickens his pace, both riding Asher and stroking himself, Nathaniel's jaws tighten. He feels his teeth sink into the flesh of Asher's throat, the rush of blood over his tongue. The moment he tastes blood, he groans, coming over his hand and shuddering in Asher's lap as he worries at the wound with his teeth and tongue.
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