fic: Pleasures I Don't Comprehend (KMS #2, part 2 of 2)

Mar 03, 2010 12:28


(continued from Part 1/2, please read that first!)

*

Peter knew what he wanted. "Take your boxers off. But I don't want you to touch yourself."

Neal finished stripping quickly, and then hesitated. "Do you want me to kneel?"

"No. Come here." He ran a thumb over Neal's lower lip and then, giving in, pressed it inside. Neal licked it, bit it gently, sucked it like he was dying for Peter's cock. "I'm going to spank you with my hand, now. Is that okay?"

"Green," Neal mumbled around his finger.

Peter went and sat on the couch, pulling Neal behind him with a hand wrapped around his neck. "Across my lap, pretty boy." Neal hurried to obey, but still somehow making it look graceful. His held his hands clasped before him and rested the weight of his torso on his forearms, ass tilted up and waiting for Peter.

He wanted to bite the full curve of Neal's ass, so he did. Until he held Neal's flesh between his teeth, until Neal whined. He left an imprint on Neal's right cheek, a wet, red circle. Then, he started smacking Neal's ass.

It was, impossibly, better than he remembered. He could feel the impact on his palm and see the skin redden (so close, he had Neal so close to him). The skin turned pink, first, in uneven blotches. Then a red to match the blush spreading down from his shoulders. He hit Neal until his palm ached and Neal was slumped forward, his arms splayed to frame the sides of his face, cock rubbing against Peter's leg with each thrust. Peter could feel the precum soaking through his pants, feel the hot line of Neal's cock with each new smack.

"You've made a mess on my pants, Caffrey." He sounded hoarse, already. Strange to himself. But this - this power - felt natural, comfortable, familiar. "Get on your knees in front of me, and lick your mess off my leg."

Neal thrust one more time against his leg, and, with a surprised cry, came. Peter spanked him through his orgasm quickly, as hard as he could, anything to make Neal keep writhing the way he was across his lap.

"Oh Neal, Neal, Neal," Peter said with disappointment when he finally finished. "You just can't control yourself, can you? Do you like it when I tell you what to do? Hmm? Well, you weren't supposed to come yet." Neal, lying limply across his lap, at his mercy, whimpered. "Now clean it up before I punish you for your mistake."

Watching Neal Caffrey lick his cum off the couch, and then off Peter's leg, was almost too much. Peter grabbed his cock tightly through his pants. He didn't want to come. Not yet. He had so many things he wanted to do to Neal. He thought of the porn he and El had watched, and how it paled in comparison to the man on his knees in front of him.

Neal - no longer graceful - kneeling on the floor at his feet, holding onto Peter's knees to keep himself upright, was as beautiful as the Goya they'd recovered the week before, the Klimpt he'd suspected Neal of stealing in '04, more beautiful than anything Peter'd ever owned before. He gripped his cock firmly while Neal finished licked the semen off his slacks with kitten-licks that warmed his leg.

"Go to the bed and prepare yourself," he said after giving Neal a moment of rest.

"Can I use lube?" Neal asked. Peter grabbed Neal's right hand and sucked the pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them wet. The last time he done something like this, he'd been licking away Neal's cum - now he just tasted skin, salt and Neal.

"No. Use that. Go slow." Neal hesitated. "Color?" Peter asked.

"Yellow," he said, looking up at Peter with worried eyes.

"I don't care," he growled, pushing Neal towards the bed. "I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers, spread them as wide inside you as you can, until you're hard again. But they won't be enough, will they? Not nearly as good as my cock's going to be, filling you up." Neal fell back on the bed and Peter wanted to mark the long, clean lines of his body so badly he almost didn't notice that Neal was shaking with fear now as much as arousal. His hands were in a defensive position. Defending himself against Peter, he realized, who was looming over him still fully dressed.

He checked himself. "Try. If it hurts too much I'll give you the lube. I will. Okay?" Neal nodded and spread his thighs open, his long fingers ghosting over his hole. "Only I get to hurt you tonight," Peter reminded him.

Nodding again Neal started to fuck himself open for Peter. He twisted on the bed until he got the angle right, then pressed one of his long fingers inside. He went slowly, slow enough Peter suspected it was all a tease except when he pushed a second finger inside himself his face started to crease with discomfort. "Stop," Peter told him.

"No," Neal told him, worry evident in his voice. "I can do it, I can, I can be good - "

"I told you to stop." Neal pulled his fingers out with a wince and then rolled onto his stomach. He was getting ready to be punished, Peter realized. He let Neal stay that way as he went and got the lube from the bag because he liked the view. Neal's ass wasn't purple yet, like he'd seen it before, but it would be soon. It was a cherry red that faded down his thighs and over his hips. He could see the imprints of his fingers around the edges.

"You did good," he told Neal as he sat beside him on the mattress. "You tried." Neal's breath hitched and he seemed to be steeling himself against whatever Peter saw fit to give him. "You tried," Peter repeated. "Just what I wanted." Then he slicked up two of his fingers and thrust them inside Neal's hole.

He was so tight Peter couldn't imagine how he was ever going to fit his cock in there. But so hot around his fingers that he couldn't imagine not fucking Neal, his tight hole, stretching it out, opening him up just for Peter.

Soon Neal starting pushing back, rocking his ass back onto Peter's hand, his body undulating with each thrust. Peter was not going to last. He needed to come. "Go get the gag, Neal. I'm going to fuck your mouth."

Neal stumbled off the bed to grab the spider gag, wrestling it out of its box. Lube glistened on his thighs and Peter idly imagined it was his cum dripping out of Neal. Neal handed him the spider gag and Peter stared at it for a moment, wishing that it had come with instructions. He worked it out quickly enough, though, his fingers pressing the metal circle into Neal's mouth, tucking the hooks behind his cheeks, fastening the leather straps behind his head.

He kissed Neal, then. Licked around the metal hooks, traced the circle behind Neal's teeth. Every time he thrust his tongue into Neal's mouth, Neal tried to kiss him back, licking at his tongue, welcoming it, bathing it. He moaned helplessly. Unable to talk, he let his body speak for him.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed and Neal shuffled into position between his thighs. Peter undid his pants and took his cock out. It was wet with precum and fully erect. Peter grinned when Neal's eyes widened comically as he found out the size of it. He wiped the precum off on Neal's cheek before starting.

He let Neal set the pace at first. Gave him time to get used to the weight of Peter on his tongue, trying to suck without using his lips. He took Peter into his mouth until he gagged and then took more. He had a little over half Peter's length when Peter ran out of patience and thrust forward. He ran his hands through Neal's hair, got a solid grip on the back of his head, and fucked Neal Caffrey's pretty little mouth.

Neal was fully hard again, rocking his hips forward against the air. "You can rub yourself against the bed," Peter told him. "But don't come." The vibrations of Neal's moans as he moved forward to press his cock against the mattress were almost too much for Peter to handle.

It wasn't the best blowjob he'd ever gotten. It couldn't be, with Neal's mouth immobilized the way it was. But Peter had never been blown by someone who couldn't stop him from fucking all the way into their throat before, someone who would gag until they couldn't breathe and then come back eagerly for more. But every time Neal pulled back, Peter let him. Gave him a breath, a moment to recover, and as soon as he was ready Peter thrust all the way back in. It was heaven.

"If you don't want me to come all over your face, tap me on the leg with your right hand." Neal closed his eyes, tilted his face up, and Peter painted his face with his cum. Stripes of it over Neal's eyes, in his open mouth, on his sharp cheekbones. He stroked himself until it hurt and then wiped his cock off against Caffrey's cheek. "Perfect," he murmured.

He took the gag out and massaged Neal's jaw gently. "You okay?" Neal nodded and pressed his cock against Peter's leg, reminding Peter that he still had unfinished business.

The paddle was still waiting in the bag by the door. He hadn't forgotten. He scooped up as much of his cum as he could off Neal's face and held his fingers in front of Neal's mouth. "Clean it up." Neal sucked his fingers like he was trying to prove that he could do this without the gag, take Peter's fingers in all the way and use his lips and make it good for Peter, he could. Peter's cock jolted almost painfully at Neal's earnest desperation.

Peter got a damp cloth from the bathroom and cleaned Neal's face as best he could. "Neal," he said, in as even a tone as he could manage, thinking about what he was about to do. "I want you to go get the paddle out of the bag. And then I want you to kiss it."

Neal closed his eyes and swayed for a moment. His fingers shook as he looked through the bag, the rustling of the plastic a shaky punctuation to his movement. He lifted it up and held the thick black paddle before his clever lips, placing a chaste kiss to the handle. It was about a foot long, maybe three inches wide, and Neal kissed delicately up the length of it.

"Lick it," Peter ordered.

Neal's clever tongue soaked the leather quickly. He ran it down the polished length until it gleamed, the sides until they dripped, wrapped his lips around the handle and moaned. "Both sides," Peter admonished, and Neal - eyes closed, cock dripping - obeyed.

His lips were rubbed raw when Peter finally told him he could stop. "Over the couch," he instructed.

"Can I ask for something?"

"Yes," Peter replied hastily, "whatever you want."

"I - I'd like to be tied. So that I don't have to think about getting away. I...I like it when I don't have a choice. It makes it easier."

Peter's cock was swiftly becoming fully erect again. Neal's voice was scraped raw from taking Peter's cock, his body angled submissively towards Peter, his eyes lowered and shy. He was pretty sure it wasn't an act, but even if it was - god.

He tilted Neal's head up to make eye contact and kissed him briefly. "Thank you for asking." Neal nodded eagerly and pressed the full length of his body against Peter, who was still in his suit. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his handcuffs. "Will these work?" Peter decided that Neal's sharp inhale, the way he pressed even closer into Peter, counted as a 'yes'.

Peter ran his hands idly down Neal's back, to cup his ass (Neal hissed when Peter squeezed it, when he ran his fingernails over it sharply, when he pressed into Neal's hole with the tips of three fingers). Then he cuffed Neal to one of bedposts.

This paddle was longer and harder than the one he'd used in Edwards' club. It didn't have the lines of studs, but it was heavier. When he smacked it against Neal's ass the imprint was immediately visible, Neal's response noticeably louder.

"What are you doing to me," Peter murmured with a hit to the right cheek. "I never wanted to do this to anyone before." Neal bit down on the pillow in front of him to muffle the cry when Peter tried a hard smack to his thighs. "But you - you want it so badly." Three hits in quick succession and Neal tried to pull away, to turn to his left, away from Peter. Two hits to his left cheek solved that problem. He varied the pace to keep Neal off-balance, keep him guessing.

Quicker than Peter expected, Neal's ass was covered in welts and he was sobbing. His breath came in shuddering bursts and his elegant fingers were white-knuckled as he clutched the bedposts. When Peter pushed inside him with three fingers and spanked him with his free hand, Neal keened. Every time he asked Neal for a color, Neal told him green. "Don't come," Peter ordered. "If you come, I'll stop, swear to god. Make you wait all week before I come back and fuck you." He found Neal's prostate and rubbed it mercilessly, pausing just long enough to finally strip completely and grab the lube again.

"Neal, where are the condoms?"

"Don't," Neal whined, "I'm clean. Want to feel you come inside me."

"Fuck, yes. Although you really should ask if I'm clean, too" Peter said, nudging the head of his cock against Neal's hole.

"I know you are. I hacked your medical records - oh, fuck, Peter - " He pushed further in. "Like that, yes, there - oh god - "

It wasn't enough. Even the blinding sensation of Neal's ass around him, the heat and pressure (so much tighter than Elizabeth, he tried not to think, so different). He thrust harder, pushing Neal up the bed until he was on his knees bracing himself on the headboard to keep from being shoved into the wall. Peter was spread over him, just enough taller than Neal that he could fuck him from behind and bite savagely into his neck at the same time.

Neal was wild underneath him. Trying to rub his cock against the blanket and push back against Peter, even though it had to hurt (so, so tight, so hot). Tangled syllables spilled out of his mouth.

It wasn't enough.

Reaching underneath Neal's body, Peter grabbed Neal's cock. And squeezed. Hard. Every muscle in Neal's body seemed to tense - it hurt, it hurt both of them, Peter couldn't move Neal was so tight. He scraped his fingernail down the length of Neal's cock, pressed his thumb into the slit at the head, and almost laughed with triumph when he whispered "come" into Neal's ear and felt him scream. Perfect.

He didn't even need to move. The fluttering spasms of Neal orgasming around him was the best thing he'd ever felt in his entire life. He began thrusting again, brutally hard. Neal scrambled underneath him "too much, too much, Peter - " he covered Neal's mouth with one hand, squeezed his balls with the other, and came.

*

The sequel is here:  i thought i was someone else (someone good)  If you're reading through the series, please consider reviewing each individual part! it would make my day. :-)

fandom: white collar, fic, series: kink meme

Previous post Next post
Up