FIC: A Love in Flames Seregil/Nathaniel NC-17
Title: A Love in Flames
Rating: NC-17
Authors: Rachie and Kiri
Pairing: Seregil/Nathaniel (Nightrunner/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter xOver)
Word Count: unfinished
Author's Notes: WiP
Warnings: Slash, bdsm, lyncanthropism
Some where in the back of his mind Nathaniel could remember a time, or perhaps a place, where the whores and prostitutes of his city were derided, hated, forced to work on the cold streets. There was nothing like that for him now. He'd entered on of the establishments of Rhimnee and in just a few short months gained a reputation such that the White Leopard now drew twice the custom it had formerly done, and he himself could earn in an evening what would previously have taken him a month. He even had a room to call his own. The heavy draperies and constantly blazing fire keeping him warm even in the depths of winter when snow lay thick about the house.
-- + --
In a city where the denizens of the Street of Lights looked like so many butterflies, Nathaniel needed only his long auburn hair and violet eyes to stand out among them, and his unassumingness was a welcome change among the whores who vied with each other for the attentions of the nobility, and those wealthy for a night. A man catching sight of those eyes from the far side of a crowded room would often beg the indulgence of his companion and leave to make Nathaniel's acquaintance. So it was the night that he met Seregil for the first time.
Seregil relaxed casually in a large arm chair, near the back of the house that he had chosen to occupy that evening. Eyes lazy, legs draped across the chair, as loosely as satin, Seregil watched the men come in and out, analysing them in his mind. As each face, all tinged by the frigid air outside, appeared in the doorway, Seregil smiled softly to himself, knowing that each man would be weak to his charms.
Until he saw him.
Needing something extraordinary had brought Seregil here, on this cold evening. Now he had found it, his stomach turned, and a familiar sort of hunger, nothing to do with food, stirred restlessly within him.
He stood.
With his long hair braided back from his face, and his clothing deceptively plain Nathaniel should have looked out of place, but his grace and beauty just caught the attention and held the eye.
As he walked into the room, laughing with a few of the other residents of the house, conversations slowed as men turned to look at him. A couple standing near the door called something to him, he smiled and shook his head in reply, continuing deeper into the room. A man had already caught his eye, and he was determined to have the attention returned.
Slipping off his cloak as he walked he approached the dark haired man who stood at the back of the room.
Seregil felt his body reacting, even before an exchange of words had been offered. This man wasn't handsome, but by the lightbearer, he was beauitful, an also feminine grace hightlighting his boyish features. Seregil grinned rougishly, bowing slightly as the other man neared.
"Seregil of Rhimnee," he announced, eyes sparkling despite the dark depths.
Waiting for a response, Seregil eyed the man, quickly taking in his features. With a slighter body than Seregil's own, Seregil vaguely wondered if the man could be Faie, but no marks showed tribe or clan, and the stranger looked a foreigner to these parts.
"Nathaniel Graison." the man replied, returning the bow gracefully.
When he met Seregil's eyes again, there was something there that Nathaniel recognised, the pain of friends lost and mistakes made that was at odds with his youthful appearance. Despite that, he liked what he saw; a slim built man, grey eyes that shone with knowledge and mischeif and a narrow-liped mouth turned up in a smile.
"Shall we, then?" he asked, offering his hand to Seregil.
Seregil felt Nathaniel draw another grin from him. So soon?
Drawing one hand from it's glove, Seregil offered his own, soft palm, brushing finger tips against tips, stroking his fingers along the underside of Nathaniel's palm, even as he moved away.
"Do you fancy a drink first?" Seregil asked, smoothness and charm combined, body already beginning to turn away. His mind was fogging with arousal, but surely the man could be teased a little first.
Nathaniel grinned in return. Maybe this man wouldn't be like all the others, upstairs for an hour or so, and then he wouldn't see them for weeks or months on end. He wasn't going to let this Seregil go though, his hand was still tingling from Seregil's touch and ff he was any judge, he'd affected the other man almost as badly. The thought made him smile.
"Why not," he replied, "What would you like?"
Seregil ordered two drinks each, both as intoxicating as each other, without obscuring the sense of pleasure and wit.
"I haven't seen you here before," remarked Seregil, downing his first drink in a second. "Are you from here?"
No, but of course, if he had been Seregil would know. He smiled at Nathaniel, forcing his eyes to gaze into the other's, instead of flickering toward the stairs that led upstairs.
"No, I'm not." Nathaniel replied, passing Seregil his second drink, making sure that their fingers touched as the other man took the glass from him. "But then, neither are you."
Taking a sip of his drink, he watched Seregil closely, curious to see what his reaction would be.
How does he know that? thought Seregil, returning the man's gaze with his own. Seregil contented himself with a wry grin, downing another drink, brought by an attractive servant. Placing the glass on the table soundly, Seregil's intent was clear, as his gaze moved, from Nathatiels lilac gaze, to the staircase that led upwards.
"Drink up," Seregil said cheerfully, eye's betraying nothing but the faintest glimpse of hunger, as he watched Nathatiels full lips touch the glass, and redden as the alcohol warmed him. They were unlike Seregil's own, a thick pout, instead of his thin line. Too open to be any good for deceiving, but enticing all the same.
"Onwards and upward," Seregil leant forwards and whispered, as soon as the other man had finished his drink.
"Of course." Nathaniel said, as he put his empty glass on the table beside him. As he got up he murmered, "How could I not know?"
Seregil started beside him Can he read minds, or what? With a slight smile tugging at his lips Nathaniel stalked off through the room, Seregil following in his wake.
The room upstairs was warmer even than the crowded public rooms below. A fire burned bright below a mantel scattered the extravagant and unusual gifts of Nathaniel's other men. The huge four-poster bed dominated the room, and leaning against the bedpost Nathaniel was slowly unlacing the collar of his shirt, his surcoat already tossed to one side with his boots.
He has his own room, thought Seregil, undoing the lacings of his own shirt as his eyes took in the room around. Not knowing of this particular consort was unusual for Seregil, who knew most of the men here. Far from disconcerting him, Seregil felt a shiver of lust ripple through him, and the wake of mystery that seemed to follow him.
The room was neither of Aurenfaie or Skalan design, another enigma of the mans origins. Seregil watched Nathaniel from a moment, as he stood against the bed, body and eyes beckoning as one, before crossing the room in three sides and roughly cupping the man's face in two hands.
There was something in the man's touch that awoke a feeling Nathaniel had long since thought dead within him. A feeling of belonging, of home. The taste of Seregil on his lips as they kissed brought the feeling to the surface and to Nathaniel it felt like he shone with it. He raised his own hands to curl them in Seregil's long hair, it's soft feeling bring back half-forgotten memories. Breaking the kiss Nathaniel opened his eyes to see a welter of emotions and memories in Seregil's eyes, much as there were in his own.
Biting his lip, he raised a hand briefly to Seregil's cheek, before he climbed on the bed to sprawl there like a huge tame cat.
Seregil took the oppertunity as only he knew; forcefully and with much enthusiasm. Working his way up the bed, Seregil straddled Nathaniel, lean thighs holding him down as Seregil began to kiss him roughly.
"I hope you don't mind a nip, here and there," whispered Seregil, grinning against Nathaniel's cheek, after offering his ear a playful bite.
Curled on the bed below Seregil, Nathaniel just grinned up at him. A low rumbling purr escaping from his lips, as Seregil set his teeth to Nathaniel's neck, biting slightly harder.
He'd been right about this one. He wasn't going to snap at nathaniel for what others saw as his weaknesses. This man was strong, and powerful, and he was more than prepared to use that strength and power.
"I..." he took a deep, shuddering breath, "I should tell you, before we go any further; I like pain, I like to be under some one else's control, at their mercy."
Seregil looked down at violet eyes, grinning with uncertainty.
"I'm sorry?"
"I like this." Nathaniel punctuated his sentence with a returning nip sending Seregil's eyes rolling into his head, a harsh gasp breaking through thin lips.
Not wanting to waste any more time with niaviety, Seregil pressed his torso against Nathaniels and circled his arms around his back, nails lightly scratching his back as hands worked down, snaking over buttock and hip, working as quickly as they would do to a lock, unlacing leather breeches and pulling them off with a delightfully magical flourish.
Nathaniel purred again at Seregil's touch, causing the other man to wonder, and not for the first time, just where it was that Nathaniel came from.
The sight of his own breeches tossed carelessly aside caused Nathaniel to drop his hands to Seregil's hips, pulling at the tightly knotted lacings, sliding the soft leather down to reveal smooth pale skin of Seregil's hips, and lower.
The touch of skin on skin worred Nathaniel for a moment, and he pulled back with a small sigh.
"What would you have of me, my lord?" he asked Seregil, the title falling from his lips with far more ease than the man's name would have done.
Here was territory Seregil knew. Stranger or no stranger, the man struck a chord deep inside, a note of nothing but unadulterated lust resounding through every nerve. Seregil drew Nathaniel roughly to him once more, biting down on bare shoulder. Nathaniel let out something that only could be described as a growl, and Seregil shivered.
Sliding hand through long hair, Seregil cupped the back of the man's head and traced nips along his jaw, pulling lips from teeth, gaining enterance to his mouth with little resistance.
"What would you say," whispered Seregil, the words barely words, intonation coming in soft kisses and a grin, "to a game of theif and watch? Do you think you could escape my locks and bindings?"
Nathaniel just nodded, guesturing vaguely to a chest set under the window. Rolling off the bed Seregil opened it. Concealled within it's dark wood and brass bindings were all the things he was ever likely to want in that room. Ropes and chains lays neatly coiled alongside locks, whips, flails, blindfolds, gags, cuffs, and a heavy leather collar, as well as some things that Seregil couldn't even put names to.
Taking only a few coils of rope and the collar, but leaving the lid open, he went back to the bed where Nathaniel still sprawled lazily on the covers. Glancing at the bed posts he noticed for the first time the rings set into them, enabling easy fixing of the ropes that he carried.
Dropped the ropes on the bed beside Nathaniel Seregil buckled the collar around the younger man's neck, the dark brown of the leath make his skim seem all the more golden.
Not understanding quite what he was getting into, but not unfamiliar to experimentation, Seregil finished buckling the collar with a small grin, brushing his thumb over the leather, just to feel the roughness against his abnormally smooth skin. Seregil raised an eyebrow in suprise. Instead of feeling hard, like the buckles of his saddle, and reins, the warm leather seemed to mold to Nathanials skin, smelling strongly as drops of sweat beaded on Nathaniels neck.
Straddling the man before him, Seregil reached over and gathered the ropes in his hand, threading the first loop through the ready chains, and then over the soft skin of Nathaniel's wrist. Laying a kiss to rest, where blue veins marred golden skin, Seregil secured the ropes with a wry smile at Nathaniel.
"Are you sure about all of this," he said, waving a vague hand at the ropes. "I'm really quite good at making people stay where I want them." Seregil punctated his sentance by pressing his hand firmly against the hardness between Nathaniels legs, looking over his shoulder, and smiling conentantly as an expected, albeit muffled growl arose from beneath him.
Nathaniel smirked slightly at Seregil's surety. If he needed to he could easily snap the ropes he was bound withm but then, this was what he wanted, there was no need to really try to escape.
"I'm sure." Nathaniel breathed, his words almost lost in his low growls.
With a slight shrug and a smile Seregil continued with his bondage. He was about to bind Nathaniel's other hand to the bed when he thought of the cuffs that had lain in the chest along with the collar. Given how good the collar had looked buckled around Nathaniel's throat he figured that the cuffs could only look better. Dropping the end of the rope he'd been holding he got the cuffs and proceeded to buckle them around Nathaniel's wrists, ankles and uppper thighs, using them to bind him to the bed.
Stepping back Seregil looked at the man spread imobile on the heavy cover of the bed. In the flickering light of the room Nathaniel's skin and the leather cuffs seemed almost to glow, and Seregil had to bite back a moan at the sight.
"Where should I start?" Seregil walked around the bed, as calmly as a wizard would study one of the relics in the Oreska House. Finger rested under chin, grin still faintly there in the softness of his handsome profile, Seregil circled Nathaniel, watching with calculating gaze and plotting mind.
"Should I start here?" Trailing a finger along Nathaniel's thigh, Seregil stopped short of his groin, eliciting a low moan from the bound man.
"No, no, I do believe I should finish there," said Seregil with a slight chuckle. "What about here?"
Fingers teased one nipple, as Seregil crawled onto the bed and slithered over Nathaniel's chest, one hand working as he stared into violet eyes once more. Nathaniel arched his body; trapped against the ropes, however, he could do little more than struggle helplessly.
There was a half-smirk on Seregil's face, his enjoyment of having Nathaniel tied down so he could have his wicked way with him, but Nathaniel could sense an uncertainty hidden underneath the confident exterior.
"There's no harm in admitting that you've not done this before." Nathaniel said, his voice low.
Seregil glanced away for a moment, amazed and slightly worried at how easily this man had read him. He'd almost not been aware of his uncertainty, until Nathaniel had remarked on it, and then he suddenly been aware than he really, really didn't know what he was doing.
When he turned back Nathaniel was still looking up at him, a smile dancing across his full lips.
"I can always give you some ideas." he said, with a grin.
Torn between wanted to deny his inexperiance, and wanting Nathaniel to explain himself, Seregil sat back on his haunches, and chose the latter.
"Really?"
Seregil watched as the other man's eye glinted with a feral hunger, a deep longing that was completely uninhibated. It was almost cat-like.
"Do you want to start over there?" asked Seregil, nodding his head toward to box of mystery underneath the windowsill.
"Why not?" Nathaniel said, a momentary look of relief passing across his face that Seregil would have missed if he hadn't be watching him so closely.
Pulling slightly at the cuff around his wrist Nathaniel raised one eyebrow at Seregil.
"Are you going to undo these, and let me go over there, or do you want to bring the things over here?"
Never one to like being taken for a fool, Seregil walked over to the chest himself, and gazed down at the foreign instruments with a mixture of intrique, amusement and no small amount of apprehention. The whips from early caught his eye, as did a silken blindfold and rough, leather gag. Seregil raised an eyebrow of disbelief, and grinned to himself, before collecting his finds and wandering over to the bed once more.
"So many things. One does wonder how one gathers such an interesting collection," Seregil said, laughing quietly as Nathatiel gave him and challenging grin and nodded towards the blind fold.
"Tie this for me, would you?"
Seregil glanced at the man, before shrugging and cupping his hands around Nathaniel's head, trying not to catch Nathaniel's silken hair amonst the folds.
Nothing was said for a moment, and Seregil's hesitation was clear.
"If you want to use the whip on me," Nathaniel said, "you're going to have to bind me on my front."
He heard the brush of Seregil's hair against his shoulders and guessed that the other man was nodding. A feeling that was proven right as the ropes were untied from the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Allowing him to roll over Seregil placed a couple of pillows under Nathaniel's chest to ensure that he could breath alright, and then re-tied the ropes.
To one side of him Nathaniel could hear Seregil fiddling with the buckles on something before he dropped it back on the cover and picked up the whip, flicking it through the air to get the feel of it.
Without warning the lash was suddenly turned on him, and a firey stripe was laid across Nathaniel's back. He arched up into it, felling the heat begin to pool in his body already.
Seregil paused after that first blow, unwilling to admitt that the sight of that single red line, marring beautiful, otherwise unmarked skin, sent a thrill of lust through him. It began to swell as soon as the whip came away, a path of red flanked by white, before smuding into golden. His fingers itched to touch, to feel the ridge against his hand; lips longed to kiss the strip of flesh, open, bare.
More than anything did the sight of Nathaniels body raising with feline grace arouse Seregil. The man arched against Seregil's hand, a low purr of pleasure reverberating through skin.
"Again," he whispered, hardly loud enough to hear, but Seregil obeyed the command without question, landing a vague snap of the whip inches from the previous mark.
The stripes across his back were burning fiercely, the rest of his body hyper-sensitive to the drafts Seregil's movement caused.
As the whip bit into his skin again he whined; at once arching upwards, and trying to press his groin to the bed.
Time and again Seregil flicked with whip across his back, first putting all the strength of his arm into the blow, so that he raised a red-welt the thickness of his finger that bloomed rapidly across Nathaniel's golden skin. These blows caused Nathaniel to cry out, his whole body jolting with the strike. Other times he would scarcely touch the skin, caressing Nathaniel's back with the leather thongs that made up the whip. Then Nathaniel would writhe and moan, purring when he had the breath for it.
Seregil had driven Nathaniel right to the edge when the blows stopped, and Nathaniel mewled, turning his head to look up at Seregil through the tangled strands of his hair.
Seregil's own expression was something torn between hesitance and lust. His bare neck was as pale as milk in the odd half light of the room, hectic feverish patches of red blooming over high cheek and collar-bones. Dragging a hand through sweat slicked hair, Seregil held it back as he leant foward to offer a kiss to a particuarly angry-looking welt.
"So beautiful," he murmured against the cut, making Nathaniel flinch from a jolt of ecstasy and pain alike.
"Getting used to it, are we?" Nathaniel gave a lop sided grin, which quickly disolved into an open mouthed moan as Seregil's teeth scraped sensitive skin, his lips becoming lightly tinged with drops of Nathaniels blood.
"I certainly think it could grow on me," he replied with amusement, and Nathaniel shivered as Seregil's erection brushed against his lower back.
Rating: NC-17
Authors: Rachie and Kiri
Pairing: Seregil/Nathaniel (Nightrunner/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter xOver)
Word Count: unfinished
Author's Notes: WiP
Warnings: Slash, bdsm, lyncanthropism
Some where in the back of his mind Nathaniel could remember a time, or perhaps a place, where the whores and prostitutes of his city were derided, hated, forced to work on the cold streets. There was nothing like that for him now. He'd entered on of the establishments of Rhimnee and in just a few short months gained a reputation such that the White Leopard now drew twice the custom it had formerly done, and he himself could earn in an evening what would previously have taken him a month. He even had a room to call his own. The heavy draperies and constantly blazing fire keeping him warm even in the depths of winter when snow lay thick about the house.
-- + --
In a city where the denizens of the Street of Lights looked like so many butterflies, Nathaniel needed only his long auburn hair and violet eyes to stand out among them, and his unassumingness was a welcome change among the whores who vied with each other for the attentions of the nobility, and those wealthy for a night. A man catching sight of those eyes from the far side of a crowded room would often beg the indulgence of his companion and leave to make Nathaniel's acquaintance. So it was the night that he met Seregil for the first time.
Seregil relaxed casually in a large arm chair, near the back of the house that he had chosen to occupy that evening. Eyes lazy, legs draped across the chair, as loosely as satin, Seregil watched the men come in and out, analysing them in his mind. As each face, all tinged by the frigid air outside, appeared in the doorway, Seregil smiled softly to himself, knowing that each man would be weak to his charms.
Until he saw him.
Needing something extraordinary had brought Seregil here, on this cold evening. Now he had found it, his stomach turned, and a familiar sort of hunger, nothing to do with food, stirred restlessly within him.
He stood.
With his long hair braided back from his face, and his clothing deceptively plain Nathaniel should have looked out of place, but his grace and beauty just caught the attention and held the eye.
As he walked into the room, laughing with a few of the other residents of the house, conversations slowed as men turned to look at him. A couple standing near the door called something to him, he smiled and shook his head in reply, continuing deeper into the room. A man had already caught his eye, and he was determined to have the attention returned.
Slipping off his cloak as he walked he approached the dark haired man who stood at the back of the room.
Seregil felt his body reacting, even before an exchange of words had been offered. This man wasn't handsome, but by the lightbearer, he was beauitful, an also feminine grace hightlighting his boyish features. Seregil grinned rougishly, bowing slightly as the other man neared.
"Seregil of Rhimnee," he announced, eyes sparkling despite the dark depths.
Waiting for a response, Seregil eyed the man, quickly taking in his features. With a slighter body than Seregil's own, Seregil vaguely wondered if the man could be Faie, but no marks showed tribe or clan, and the stranger looked a foreigner to these parts.
"Nathaniel Graison." the man replied, returning the bow gracefully.
When he met Seregil's eyes again, there was something there that Nathaniel recognised, the pain of friends lost and mistakes made that was at odds with his youthful appearance. Despite that, he liked what he saw; a slim built man, grey eyes that shone with knowledge and mischeif and a narrow-liped mouth turned up in a smile.
"Shall we, then?" he asked, offering his hand to Seregil.
Seregil felt Nathaniel draw another grin from him. So soon?
Drawing one hand from it's glove, Seregil offered his own, soft palm, brushing finger tips against tips, stroking his fingers along the underside of Nathaniel's palm, even as he moved away.
"Do you fancy a drink first?" Seregil asked, smoothness and charm combined, body already beginning to turn away. His mind was fogging with arousal, but surely the man could be teased a little first.
Nathaniel grinned in return. Maybe this man wouldn't be like all the others, upstairs for an hour or so, and then he wouldn't see them for weeks or months on end. He wasn't going to let this Seregil go though, his hand was still tingling from Seregil's touch and ff he was any judge, he'd affected the other man almost as badly. The thought made him smile.
"Why not," he replied, "What would you like?"
Seregil ordered two drinks each, both as intoxicating as each other, without obscuring the sense of pleasure and wit.
"I haven't seen you here before," remarked Seregil, downing his first drink in a second. "Are you from here?"
No, but of course, if he had been Seregil would know. He smiled at Nathaniel, forcing his eyes to gaze into the other's, instead of flickering toward the stairs that led upstairs.
"No, I'm not." Nathaniel replied, passing Seregil his second drink, making sure that their fingers touched as the other man took the glass from him. "But then, neither are you."
Taking a sip of his drink, he watched Seregil closely, curious to see what his reaction would be.
How does he know that? thought Seregil, returning the man's gaze with his own. Seregil contented himself with a wry grin, downing another drink, brought by an attractive servant. Placing the glass on the table soundly, Seregil's intent was clear, as his gaze moved, from Nathatiels lilac gaze, to the staircase that led upwards.
"Drink up," Seregil said cheerfully, eye's betraying nothing but the faintest glimpse of hunger, as he watched Nathatiels full lips touch the glass, and redden as the alcohol warmed him. They were unlike Seregil's own, a thick pout, instead of his thin line. Too open to be any good for deceiving, but enticing all the same.
"Onwards and upward," Seregil leant forwards and whispered, as soon as the other man had finished his drink.
"Of course." Nathaniel said, as he put his empty glass on the table beside him. As he got up he murmered, "How could I not know?"
Seregil started beside him Can he read minds, or what? With a slight smile tugging at his lips Nathaniel stalked off through the room, Seregil following in his wake.
The room upstairs was warmer even than the crowded public rooms below. A fire burned bright below a mantel scattered the extravagant and unusual gifts of Nathaniel's other men. The huge four-poster bed dominated the room, and leaning against the bedpost Nathaniel was slowly unlacing the collar of his shirt, his surcoat already tossed to one side with his boots.
He has his own room, thought Seregil, undoing the lacings of his own shirt as his eyes took in the room around. Not knowing of this particular consort was unusual for Seregil, who knew most of the men here. Far from disconcerting him, Seregil felt a shiver of lust ripple through him, and the wake of mystery that seemed to follow him.
The room was neither of Aurenfaie or Skalan design, another enigma of the mans origins. Seregil watched Nathaniel from a moment, as he stood against the bed, body and eyes beckoning as one, before crossing the room in three sides and roughly cupping the man's face in two hands.
There was something in the man's touch that awoke a feeling Nathaniel had long since thought dead within him. A feeling of belonging, of home. The taste of Seregil on his lips as they kissed brought the feeling to the surface and to Nathaniel it felt like he shone with it. He raised his own hands to curl them in Seregil's long hair, it's soft feeling bring back half-forgotten memories. Breaking the kiss Nathaniel opened his eyes to see a welter of emotions and memories in Seregil's eyes, much as there were in his own.
Biting his lip, he raised a hand briefly to Seregil's cheek, before he climbed on the bed to sprawl there like a huge tame cat.
Seregil took the oppertunity as only he knew; forcefully and with much enthusiasm. Working his way up the bed, Seregil straddled Nathaniel, lean thighs holding him down as Seregil began to kiss him roughly.
"I hope you don't mind a nip, here and there," whispered Seregil, grinning against Nathaniel's cheek, after offering his ear a playful bite.
Curled on the bed below Seregil, Nathaniel just grinned up at him. A low rumbling purr escaping from his lips, as Seregil set his teeth to Nathaniel's neck, biting slightly harder.
He'd been right about this one. He wasn't going to snap at nathaniel for what others saw as his weaknesses. This man was strong, and powerful, and he was more than prepared to use that strength and power.
"I..." he took a deep, shuddering breath, "I should tell you, before we go any further; I like pain, I like to be under some one else's control, at their mercy."
Seregil looked down at violet eyes, grinning with uncertainty.
"I'm sorry?"
"I like this." Nathaniel punctuated his sentence with a returning nip sending Seregil's eyes rolling into his head, a harsh gasp breaking through thin lips.
Not wanting to waste any more time with niaviety, Seregil pressed his torso against Nathaniels and circled his arms around his back, nails lightly scratching his back as hands worked down, snaking over buttock and hip, working as quickly as they would do to a lock, unlacing leather breeches and pulling them off with a delightfully magical flourish.
Nathaniel purred again at Seregil's touch, causing the other man to wonder, and not for the first time, just where it was that Nathaniel came from.
The sight of his own breeches tossed carelessly aside caused Nathaniel to drop his hands to Seregil's hips, pulling at the tightly knotted lacings, sliding the soft leather down to reveal smooth pale skin of Seregil's hips, and lower.
The touch of skin on skin worred Nathaniel for a moment, and he pulled back with a small sigh.
"What would you have of me, my lord?" he asked Seregil, the title falling from his lips with far more ease than the man's name would have done.
Here was territory Seregil knew. Stranger or no stranger, the man struck a chord deep inside, a note of nothing but unadulterated lust resounding through every nerve. Seregil drew Nathaniel roughly to him once more, biting down on bare shoulder. Nathaniel let out something that only could be described as a growl, and Seregil shivered.
Sliding hand through long hair, Seregil cupped the back of the man's head and traced nips along his jaw, pulling lips from teeth, gaining enterance to his mouth with little resistance.
"What would you say," whispered Seregil, the words barely words, intonation coming in soft kisses and a grin, "to a game of theif and watch? Do you think you could escape my locks and bindings?"
Nathaniel just nodded, guesturing vaguely to a chest set under the window. Rolling off the bed Seregil opened it. Concealled within it's dark wood and brass bindings were all the things he was ever likely to want in that room. Ropes and chains lays neatly coiled alongside locks, whips, flails, blindfolds, gags, cuffs, and a heavy leather collar, as well as some things that Seregil couldn't even put names to.
Taking only a few coils of rope and the collar, but leaving the lid open, he went back to the bed where Nathaniel still sprawled lazily on the covers. Glancing at the bed posts he noticed for the first time the rings set into them, enabling easy fixing of the ropes that he carried.
Dropped the ropes on the bed beside Nathaniel Seregil buckled the collar around the younger man's neck, the dark brown of the leath make his skim seem all the more golden.
Not understanding quite what he was getting into, but not unfamiliar to experimentation, Seregil finished buckling the collar with a small grin, brushing his thumb over the leather, just to feel the roughness against his abnormally smooth skin. Seregil raised an eyebrow in suprise. Instead of feeling hard, like the buckles of his saddle, and reins, the warm leather seemed to mold to Nathanials skin, smelling strongly as drops of sweat beaded on Nathaniels neck.
Straddling the man before him, Seregil reached over and gathered the ropes in his hand, threading the first loop through the ready chains, and then over the soft skin of Nathaniel's wrist. Laying a kiss to rest, where blue veins marred golden skin, Seregil secured the ropes with a wry smile at Nathaniel.
"Are you sure about all of this," he said, waving a vague hand at the ropes. "I'm really quite good at making people stay where I want them." Seregil punctated his sentance by pressing his hand firmly against the hardness between Nathaniels legs, looking over his shoulder, and smiling conentantly as an expected, albeit muffled growl arose from beneath him.
Nathaniel smirked slightly at Seregil's surety. If he needed to he could easily snap the ropes he was bound withm but then, this was what he wanted, there was no need to really try to escape.
"I'm sure." Nathaniel breathed, his words almost lost in his low growls.
With a slight shrug and a smile Seregil continued with his bondage. He was about to bind Nathaniel's other hand to the bed when he thought of the cuffs that had lain in the chest along with the collar. Given how good the collar had looked buckled around Nathaniel's throat he figured that the cuffs could only look better. Dropping the end of the rope he'd been holding he got the cuffs and proceeded to buckle them around Nathaniel's wrists, ankles and uppper thighs, using them to bind him to the bed.
Stepping back Seregil looked at the man spread imobile on the heavy cover of the bed. In the flickering light of the room Nathaniel's skin and the leather cuffs seemed almost to glow, and Seregil had to bite back a moan at the sight.
"Where should I start?" Seregil walked around the bed, as calmly as a wizard would study one of the relics in the Oreska House. Finger rested under chin, grin still faintly there in the softness of his handsome profile, Seregil circled Nathaniel, watching with calculating gaze and plotting mind.
"Should I start here?" Trailing a finger along Nathaniel's thigh, Seregil stopped short of his groin, eliciting a low moan from the bound man.
"No, no, I do believe I should finish there," said Seregil with a slight chuckle. "What about here?"
Fingers teased one nipple, as Seregil crawled onto the bed and slithered over Nathaniel's chest, one hand working as he stared into violet eyes once more. Nathaniel arched his body; trapped against the ropes, however, he could do little more than struggle helplessly.
There was a half-smirk on Seregil's face, his enjoyment of having Nathaniel tied down so he could have his wicked way with him, but Nathaniel could sense an uncertainty hidden underneath the confident exterior.
"There's no harm in admitting that you've not done this before." Nathaniel said, his voice low.
Seregil glanced away for a moment, amazed and slightly worried at how easily this man had read him. He'd almost not been aware of his uncertainty, until Nathaniel had remarked on it, and then he suddenly been aware than he really, really didn't know what he was doing.
When he turned back Nathaniel was still looking up at him, a smile dancing across his full lips.
"I can always give you some ideas." he said, with a grin.
Torn between wanted to deny his inexperiance, and wanting Nathaniel to explain himself, Seregil sat back on his haunches, and chose the latter.
"Really?"
Seregil watched as the other man's eye glinted with a feral hunger, a deep longing that was completely uninhibated. It was almost cat-like.
"Do you want to start over there?" asked Seregil, nodding his head toward to box of mystery underneath the windowsill.
"Why not?" Nathaniel said, a momentary look of relief passing across his face that Seregil would have missed if he hadn't be watching him so closely.
Pulling slightly at the cuff around his wrist Nathaniel raised one eyebrow at Seregil.
"Are you going to undo these, and let me go over there, or do you want to bring the things over here?"
Never one to like being taken for a fool, Seregil walked over to the chest himself, and gazed down at the foreign instruments with a mixture of intrique, amusement and no small amount of apprehention. The whips from early caught his eye, as did a silken blindfold and rough, leather gag. Seregil raised an eyebrow of disbelief, and grinned to himself, before collecting his finds and wandering over to the bed once more.
"So many things. One does wonder how one gathers such an interesting collection," Seregil said, laughing quietly as Nathatiel gave him and challenging grin and nodded towards the blind fold.
"Tie this for me, would you?"
Seregil glanced at the man, before shrugging and cupping his hands around Nathaniel's head, trying not to catch Nathaniel's silken hair amonst the folds.
Nothing was said for a moment, and Seregil's hesitation was clear.
"If you want to use the whip on me," Nathaniel said, "you're going to have to bind me on my front."
He heard the brush of Seregil's hair against his shoulders and guessed that the other man was nodding. A feeling that was proven right as the ropes were untied from the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Allowing him to roll over Seregil placed a couple of pillows under Nathaniel's chest to ensure that he could breath alright, and then re-tied the ropes.
To one side of him Nathaniel could hear Seregil fiddling with the buckles on something before he dropped it back on the cover and picked up the whip, flicking it through the air to get the feel of it.
Without warning the lash was suddenly turned on him, and a firey stripe was laid across Nathaniel's back. He arched up into it, felling the heat begin to pool in his body already.
Seregil paused after that first blow, unwilling to admitt that the sight of that single red line, marring beautiful, otherwise unmarked skin, sent a thrill of lust through him. It began to swell as soon as the whip came away, a path of red flanked by white, before smuding into golden. His fingers itched to touch, to feel the ridge against his hand; lips longed to kiss the strip of flesh, open, bare.
More than anything did the sight of Nathaniels body raising with feline grace arouse Seregil. The man arched against Seregil's hand, a low purr of pleasure reverberating through skin.
"Again," he whispered, hardly loud enough to hear, but Seregil obeyed the command without question, landing a vague snap of the whip inches from the previous mark.
The stripes across his back were burning fiercely, the rest of his body hyper-sensitive to the drafts Seregil's movement caused.
As the whip bit into his skin again he whined; at once arching upwards, and trying to press his groin to the bed.
Time and again Seregil flicked with whip across his back, first putting all the strength of his arm into the blow, so that he raised a red-welt the thickness of his finger that bloomed rapidly across Nathaniel's golden skin. These blows caused Nathaniel to cry out, his whole body jolting with the strike. Other times he would scarcely touch the skin, caressing Nathaniel's back with the leather thongs that made up the whip. Then Nathaniel would writhe and moan, purring when he had the breath for it.
Seregil had driven Nathaniel right to the edge when the blows stopped, and Nathaniel mewled, turning his head to look up at Seregil through the tangled strands of his hair.
Seregil's own expression was something torn between hesitance and lust. His bare neck was as pale as milk in the odd half light of the room, hectic feverish patches of red blooming over high cheek and collar-bones. Dragging a hand through sweat slicked hair, Seregil held it back as he leant foward to offer a kiss to a particuarly angry-looking welt.
"So beautiful," he murmured against the cut, making Nathaniel flinch from a jolt of ecstasy and pain alike.
"Getting used to it, are we?" Nathaniel gave a lop sided grin, which quickly disolved into an open mouthed moan as Seregil's teeth scraped sensitive skin, his lips becoming lightly tinged with drops of Nathaniels blood.
"I certainly think it could grow on me," he replied with amusement, and Nathaniel shivered as Seregil's erection brushed against his lower back.