Humors [3/3]
anonymous
April 15 2009, 08:58:19 UTC
He drew away, his lips painted red with blood and his dark eyes glowing. Slowly, painfully, he licked every drop from his lips. “Let me taste it,” he begged, in a low, hoarse rasp.
The boy tried to pull his hand away from the iron grip. “Let me go, you twisted bastard!”
But even a panicking youth could not escape from a hungry, experienced hunter. And Antonio was long in hunger and experience.
He pulled the boy down from his seat to the floor, pinning him to the ground easily. His leg thrust between the other’s, thigh dangerously close to the groin and teasing it. “Lovi,” Antonio said quite calmly and quite kindly. “This does not have to be difficult.”
The boy writhed and yowled like a feral cat, cursing him. This only caused him to grind up against a muscled thigh. “You sick son of a bitch!” he cursed.
Antonio sighed as he brought Lovino’s wounded hand to his lips again, licking away the newly welled-up blood and humming in ecstasy. “Dios,” he hissed as his groin stirred, not just from being in proximity to his beautiful, infuriating ward. He pressed their bodies together, his arousal very evident and likely burning against Lovino’s thigh.
“Bastard-!” the boy squeaked.
Antonio smiled slightly. “Relax, Lovi,” he said, affectionately. “You are too hot-blooded.” His blood-smeared mouth kissed a flushed cheek, not deliciously parted lips. “It is not healthy for you.”
“Let go of me-” Lovino raged and that was when Antonio decided to silence him with a kiss. The lips tasted sweeter than pomegranates and wine. His hips moved quite unconsciously, rubbing himself against the boy. Then a sting as he was bitten hard enough to draw blood on his lower lip.
Antonio drew away and worried at the new wound. He merely grinned, his hips still moving lewdly with his knee also stimulating the other’s groin. Lovino’s face was scarlet now, his eyes partially closed as he groaned. His hips also moved too, not as part of a desperate wiggle to get away, but towards Antonio, downwards and upwards.
Taking a gamble, the older male released one wrist but no punch or slap or any form of attack came. Thus satisfied, Antonio undid the lacings upon the boy’s trousers, slipping his fingers in to directly handle Lovino’s manhood. His fingers squeezed tantalizingly, with long experience in these matters, as the boy keened and moaned, eagerly bucking forwards. Thus distracting his ward, Antonio returned to the blood, to the still open, still bleeding wound and drank of the offered chalice of the palm.
He felt Lovino shudder beneath him as his hips shifted frantically against a slimmer but still strong thigh. His fingers continued to grip and tease, his lips and tongue drinking up the sweet, sweet blood. No blessing could match this, even if it was nothing but a perversion that damned his immortal soul. No wine could slake his thirst like this could. Antonio suckled like a babe at a mother’s breast, eyes partially closed.
Even lost in his frenzied feast, he could still hear and see Lovino cry out in ecstasy, as hot seed splashed and seared his hand. And he bucked one more time, swallowed one more time as he too succumbed to an embracing darkness. When he returned to his senses, he looked down at the still dazed younger male beneath him.
This was his forbidden fruit, his temptation. He would drink up every bitter, wonderful drop with pleasure and revel in his own damnation.
“Mea culpa,” Antonio whispered, kissing Lovino’s sweat-sticky brow and leaving traces of blood smeared against the tawny skin. “Mea culpa.”
Re: Humors [3/3]
anonymous
April 16 2009, 16:35:14 UTC
I've been craving more Spain/Romano fills and here you go delivering such a beautiful one. I loved your choice of words, your subdued tone, the mention of Toledo's swords ♥, and all the little bits of detail and thought you put into this. Here's hoping we'll get to read more of your fills.
The boy tried to pull his hand away from the iron grip. “Let me go, you twisted bastard!”
But even a panicking youth could not escape from a hungry, experienced hunter. And Antonio was long in hunger and experience.
He pulled the boy down from his seat to the floor, pinning him to the ground easily. His leg thrust between the other’s, thigh dangerously close to the groin and teasing it. “Lovi,” Antonio said quite calmly and quite kindly. “This does not have to be difficult.”
The boy writhed and yowled like a feral cat, cursing him. This only caused him to grind up against a muscled thigh. “You sick son of a bitch!” he cursed.
Antonio sighed as he brought Lovino’s wounded hand to his lips again, licking away the newly welled-up blood and humming in ecstasy. “Dios,” he hissed as his groin stirred, not just from being in proximity to his beautiful, infuriating ward. He pressed their bodies together, his arousal very evident and likely burning against Lovino’s thigh.
“Bastard-!” the boy squeaked.
Antonio smiled slightly. “Relax, Lovi,” he said, affectionately. “You are too hot-blooded.” His blood-smeared mouth kissed a flushed cheek, not deliciously parted lips. “It is not healthy for you.”
“Let go of me-” Lovino raged and that was when Antonio decided to silence him with a kiss. The lips tasted sweeter than pomegranates and wine. His hips moved quite unconsciously, rubbing himself against the boy. Then a sting as he was bitten hard enough to draw blood on his lower lip.
Antonio drew away and worried at the new wound. He merely grinned, his hips still moving lewdly with his knee also stimulating the other’s groin. Lovino’s face was scarlet now, his eyes partially closed as he groaned. His hips also moved too, not as part of a desperate wiggle to get away, but towards Antonio, downwards and upwards.
Taking a gamble, the older male released one wrist but no punch or slap or any form of attack came. Thus satisfied, Antonio undid the lacings upon the boy’s trousers, slipping his fingers in to directly handle Lovino’s manhood. His fingers squeezed tantalizingly, with long experience in these matters, as the boy keened and moaned, eagerly bucking forwards. Thus distracting his ward, Antonio returned to the blood, to the still open, still bleeding wound and drank of the offered chalice of the palm.
He felt Lovino shudder beneath him as his hips shifted frantically against a slimmer but still strong thigh. His fingers continued to grip and tease, his lips and tongue drinking up the sweet, sweet blood. No blessing could match this, even if it was nothing but a perversion that damned his immortal soul. No wine could slake his thirst like this could. Antonio suckled like a babe at a mother’s breast, eyes partially closed.
Even lost in his frenzied feast, he could still hear and see Lovino cry out in ecstasy, as hot seed splashed and seared his hand. And he bucked one more time, swallowed one more time as he too succumbed to an embracing darkness. When he returned to his senses, he looked down at the still dazed younger male beneath him.
This was his forbidden fruit, his temptation. He would drink up every bitter, wonderful drop with pleasure and revel in his own damnation.
“Mea culpa,” Antonio whispered, kissing Lovino’s sweat-sticky brow and leaving traces of blood smeared against the tawny skin. “Mea culpa.”
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thank you anon♥
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Top job!
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you are beautiful, authoranon. you are beautiful.
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