Again and Again [Vampire!AU] 1d/?
anonymous
June 23 2009, 08:42:45 UTC
He could feel the heat building within him, and he almost exploded then and there, but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving him hanging on the edge. He managed to sit up, wrap his arms around him and ask, “What-”
“Quiet,” he whispered in his ear. He could feel him tremble in his arms as he straddled him, hear the rapid heartbeat in his chest (or was it his?). They were so melded together in the feverish heat of their bodies and passion that he could not tell which was his and which was the priest’s. But it did not matter. Not now. Not ever.
“Let me love you, my lord. Just for tonight, please let me do this.” And with a swift, sudden downward thrust, he was sheathed inside him, his entrance slicked as eased by his previous ministrations.
He thought he would die then, so overwhelmed he was of everything, of this constricting warmth around him, of the heat that burned in his veins.
But then the dammed priest moved.
“God!” he cried out. He was all but dimly aware of the priest letting out a choked laugh, muttering something about his choice of word.
There were so many things he wanted to cherish that night, to remember, but what he wanted to remember the most was how hot and tight he was around him as he rode him, how his fingers dug into the priest’s hips as he gripped him tight, how sweet the pain he felt as the priest raked his fingers across his back in his passion, marking him, and how his flesh tasted of salt and tea and honey when he bit his shoulder as he finally came inside him. How he whispered words of love and promises of eternity. How exquisite it all felt then, how right, and how perfect.
“Quiet,” he whispered in his ear. He could feel him tremble in his arms as he straddled him, hear the rapid heartbeat in his chest (or was it his?). They were so melded together in the feverish heat of their bodies and passion that he could not tell which was his and which was the priest’s. But it did not matter. Not now. Not ever.
“Let me love you, my lord. Just for tonight, please let me do this.” And with a swift, sudden downward thrust, he was sheathed inside him, his entrance slicked as eased by his previous ministrations.
He thought he would die then, so overwhelmed he was of everything, of this constricting warmth around him, of the heat that burned in his veins.
But then the dammed priest moved.
“God!” he cried out. He was all but dimly aware of the priest letting out a choked laugh, muttering something about his choice of word.
There were so many things he wanted to cherish that night, to remember, but what he wanted to remember the most was how hot and tight he was around him as he rode him, how his fingers dug into the priest’s hips as he gripped him tight, how sweet the pain he felt as the priest raked his fingers across his back in his passion, marking him, and how his flesh tasted of salt and tea and honey when he bit his shoulder as he finally came inside him. How he whispered words of love and promises of eternity. How exquisite it all felt then, how right, and how perfect.
But want he wanted was never meant to be.
----
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