The wardrobe drew him irresistibly and he wanted to see what changes had been wrought inside it, if the collection of toys had gone because they didn't fit the atmosphere or if they were still there. There were things inside, but not what he was used to: whips, chains and manacles, weapons, clothes. Everything with a primitive and brutish air. He found another belt and took it, folding it over like a strap in his hand. There was a clay pot of what seemed to be the same blue war paint that was written all over his skin, and another of some scentless oil, thick and amber-colored. He took those too, turning to meet Matt's eyes as he struggled to sit up on the bed.
Leon watched him sink back again as though giving up and then he approached, slowly, the candlelight flickering over them both and his mind full of this man, his body pulsing with the awareness of him. He thought of what it would have been like to fight him in ancient combat, to batter his weapons from his hands, to shove him down to the ground and strip him of armor and clothing, bind him and take him captive. Maybe he would have fucked him for the first time right there, on their battlefield, on the dirt churned by feet and blood. When he reached the bedside he put the oil and the paint aside, keeping the belt in hand. His fingers slid into Matt's hair, gripping the strands of it. He turned the man's face up to him and leaned down to lick at his cheek.
Drawing back, he turned the man over onto his stomach and grabbed a pillow to shove it underneath his hips. His hand held the nape of his neck for a moment, pinning him down, and then he let it run down his spine in a long caress, over his ass, one of his thighs. He lifted the belt and brought it down across the backs of his thighs in a light swat. Then again, a little harder.
It was impossible to see what the other man was looking at but he took in the sight of what he carried as soon as he turned back, attempting to keep his curiosity from leaking into the space between them. The primal feel of the room was working its way through him, and he didn't know how to play roles enough to understand what the other man saw when he looked at him. He wanted to understand, it was just too fucking hard, and then Leon was closing in anyway and it didn't matter what he was thinking because the man was pulling his hair up to lick him, bringing his irritation back to the surface with it. He wondered briefly if Leon would ever believe him if he attempted to tell him he didn't want him. It didn't feel possible to ever dislike the way this man touched him, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway because he couldn't voice the words.
He attempted to stay put while Leon turned him around but it was a pitiful attempt, even if the other man hadn't been completely capable of dictating where he wanted him. His breath caught with the pillow pushed in beneath him and the caress that followed was rough and he didn't know how to stop responding or wanting these moments to keep going on until he couldn't sense anything else.
There was too much that was different from the last time. It was obnoxious not to be able to watch the other man, to have nothing but apprehension tiptoeing over his skin while he lay there and felt Leon's gaze and the edges coating every second that existed before the belt hit. He shouldn't have been surprised but he was. The sound was smothered against the strap around his mouth but it came again a moment, a little more strangled, when the belt hit him again and his knees were already digging into the mattress to work himself off the pillow despite the way it was always going to thrill him to have this man drive him to his knees. Maybe it was because of it that he didn't want to stand it. He'd done this to people before, both consciously and in the little realities the hotel spawned for them, but he wasn't used to being the one caught in place.
These moments connected them. He didn't think they would be anything without the ability to torment one another, and he didn't know why he wanted so badly to make Matt vulnerable and helpless every chance he could, this game that kept cycling back to the same points between them. It was the only way to feel close enough. They weren't so different from one another in essentials. He touched Matt's hip, watching the way the man writhed against the pillow for a moment before he leaned down to press his mouth where his hand had been, his tongue lathing the place for a moment. Then he drew back and cracked the belt across the backs of his thighs again.
It raised a flush that time, redness in his pale skin and he touched the place to feel the heat in it, then took his hand away and smacked his ass. Again, again after that, the blows spaced apart as though to be unpredictable, his eyes on Matt at every moment and he wondered if the man could feel the weight of his gaze. Could feel how attracted to him Leon was, to the sight of his wrists bound behind his back and his hips working against the pillow, the redness in his skin and the faint weals on his ass cheeks as he kept bringing the belt down across them. The smack of sound was a rhythmic pulse in the room. He circled around the bed and the man stretched out on it, striking him from different angles. Now and again he paused a while to let him breathe, sitting on the edge of the mattress and caressing his thigh in his free hand.
At one point he laid the belt aside on the mattress and brought a hand to his ass to spread him open, licking his fingers before he pushed them slowly inside him. He worked them in, his eyes resting on that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck as though his gaze could be enough to hold him in place. He was so fucking hard, aroused to unbearable degrees by the sounds Matt had made while he was whipping him, the way he'd moved. He wanted to fuck him then but he didn't want to stop yet, didn't want to stop making Matt aware of his helplessness at every fucking moment.
He grasped him abruptly and pulled him off the pillow and slung him over his lap instead, facedown, his erection digging into the man's stomach. His hand on his ass again for a moment, caressing, then lifting away to smack him hard, with an open palm.
Any sound he tried to make was just lost inside his mouth and he was seething on the pillow, each of the blows feeling like a taunt with the teasing uncertainty behind them. He was tense and the idea of holding still was a joke when he couldn't stop jerking when the belt landed, even if he wanted to be able to take this. Each muffled sound he made was pathetic and he might have thought he could take this at first but the resolve shattered with the next blow and the next. The thought of rolling away was prominent on his mind but Leon could easily drag him back and he didn't want to look ridiculous. As if he didn't already look ridiculous while the belt seemed to catch him from every direction and infuriate with pauses that followed with strokes of Leon's hand.
He was offering a litany of fucks inside his head when Leon held him spread him open though and he shuddered violently when the man's fingers pushed inside of him. Everything Leon did could easily destroy him and he hated him for it. He hated how easy it was to feel lust for him and to want more of this. He didn't want to feel more, didn't want to feel the way Leon's eyes moved over him, his entire body twisting while the man fucked him with his fingers. The touch made him feel more than the burn of the belt had and he pushed back into it, even if it didn't last long and Leon was pulling him off the pillow and on his lap.
It only took that first smack to electrify and choke his breath off. He forced his way to his knees, shoving Leon with his shoulder, and he didn't want to feel that. Lust had shoveled deep inside him and he could feel it in his balls and in his cock, a breath that was more a shiver and a pounding of his pulse that made him feel more aware than he wanted to be. The belt had been impersonal at least, this was too close, and if running away was too embarrassing, he turned to distraction instead, turning to press Leon against the bed even if there was no way to hold him down but with his weight.
His hands caught around Matt's arms as the man pushed himself up against him and he pulled him in to caress his face with his mouth, kisses brushed aimlessly over his brow, his eyes, his cheeks, even the band over his mouth. His fingers slid into his hair and he pulled him forward until their foreheads pressed together. "I'm not finished with you yet," he murmured, but he didn't feel any hurry to shove him down to his lap again; hands ran over his back, caressing, as he resisted Matt's efforts to push him over. It wasn't difficult. The man had no power to leverage against him, not even words, and there was some part of him that wanted to keep him this way forever, always bound, always waiting for Leon's cock. His voice smothered against the gag while he was being fucked.
"You said something once. It has to hurt to mean anything." He'd heard those words more than once, or some variation of them; the sentiment was everything their relationship seemed to mean. He licked at Matt's cheek and then turned him in his hands and pushed him down again. Facedown like he'd been, one of his hands resting at the nape of his neck and the other running over his ass and thighs, stroking for a few moments before he lifted his hand away and struck him again. Desire twisted in him with every way he touched this man. He smacked him again, again, holding him pinned, and he was drowning in it, wanting to make Matt take more than he could stand so that they might drown together.
Lust was a monster in him. He stopped and slid a hand between Matt's thighs to cup his balls, squeezing him lightly, and every caress was a new and separate attempt to possess him. His fingers gripped roughly in his hair, then let go to undo the tie of the gag with brusque jerks.
The touches were goddamn teases, taunting him with their fleeting caress.
The fact that it had to hurt meant shit to him now because he never meant to be the one in a situation like this. The fact that it was Leon doing this to him only made it more excruciatingly because it made him want this even while his mind was refusing to accept it. Being dragged down over Leon's thighs was too baring and he was breathing too hard and close to whining while the man smacked the welts the belt had left on his skin. If he attempted to edge away, he was just rubbing against Leon's lap, the helplessness in this emphasized by how he was held down by the back of the neck. Tension seemed to have filled him completely and he was inhaling more of it in with every slap of Leon's hand on his ass. Choking on a moan behind the strap, he felt distorted by his own need to be torn apart by this man in simple gestures.
The sensation only intensified with Leon's hand cupping his balls. It felt like his limbs were going to melt with his desire for the man but that made it more disgusting too because he couldn't stand how fucking pathetic he was. Being freed from the strap around his mouth only made it more obvious because strangling the attempt to beg didn't make it less obvious that he wanted to. "You proved your point," he told Leon after a moment and his voice didn't feel familiar enough. "Now let go. I don't want it to mean more than this." His shoulders ached from how his arms were held behind him and the way he couldn't relax. Leaving didn't really feel like an option but then he didn't know what did. Staying on Leon's lap was impossible but moving off was just as fucking hard. His knees dug into the mattress and his hips lifted but he couldn't pull away completely while Leon held on to his hair. His prick was hard against him and he needed this man but that meant shit.
Everything was an enchantment. Everything about the man beneath him allured him impossibly and he couldn't stop running hands over him when he wasn't striking him, couldn't help smacking him again when the caresses became too much to bear. He let Matt dig knees into the mattress and lift himself up just so he could grasp his hip and push him down again. He was remembering the sounds the man had made when it was his hand hitting him and not the belt, how the timber of his voice had been different. His hips writhing against Leon's thigh. His erection was monstrously thick, swelled and engorged against Matt's stomach and Leon stared at his red sore ass and wanted to pound it until the man was begging.
"You don't want me to let you go," he told him, low and tense, his hand closing again on the nape of his neck to pin him there. "You need this. You need me to fuck you until you can't think anymore." He thought of pushing him down onto the mattress again and spreading him open to tongue his asshole but instead he reached over him for the pot of blue war paint he'd found in the wardrobe. "I want to hear you say it."
He dipped forefingers into it experimentally. The paint was wet and cool and it dripped against Matt's skin in the moments before he put his fingers to the center of his back. It made a vivid swath, a straight arrow down his back where his fingers traced and he watched the blue of it staining Matt's skin, thought briefly of writing his name on him but that could only be redundant. Instead he dipped his fingers again and ran them along his ass crack. "Tell me you need me to fuck you." Paint-wet fingers slid between his legs to fondle his balls again, smearing them with color and thought of painting his cock entirely blue. "It won't cost you anything to say it." He wanted it to, though. He wanted to feel every part of this man resisting the urge to beg him and then he wanted to feed lust into him until he couldn't take it anymore, until he broke under the weight of need and begging was all that was left to him. There was no running away, there was no choice in it. There was just feeling and more feeling, Matt's body hot and tense across his thighs, paint sliding wet down his palm and he smacked his ass again for the satisfaction of the handprint it left in blue.
His eyes shut tightly and getting a hold of himself felt like something completely out of his control. It didn't stop him from making the attempt, even if it was rife with lies and useless protestations. "I don't need you. I've never needed you. It's you who's always needed me." Writhing on Leon's lap might have made it impossible to believe anything he said but then his words and actions never really seemed to match. Even when he told Leon he loved him he was always hurting him as if to balance the desperation in the act of speaking. If he were to tell Leon he needed him now, it would be too fucking baring. He was already a mess, held tense while the paint dripped over his back in the seconds before Leon's hands drew the line down his spine and left his hips pressing hard to the man's thigh. His panting turned into a gasped, choked sound while Leon's hand slid down his ass crack to his balls. His feet dug hard into the mattress, his hips rocking against Leon in silent, resenting need. He wanted to be repulsed but the way his stomach was in knots didn't have anything to do with revulsion.
He was reaching for words blindly, throwing them at Leon as if it weren't so obvious that every touch provoked the opposite reaction. "It was just convenient to have your dick when I needed to screw and couldn't bother to exert the effort for anything more. You're just a convenient lay," he repeated, hating the way the paint dried on his skin like a brand of this man's possession, and he thought he'd been paying attention but it startled him when Leon's hand hit against his ass and he mostly yelped out the, "Fuck!" that came after. "I can't-" Stay here.
Every second he stayed stretched over Leon's thighs was lust digging deeper inside of him with the push of Leon's erection against him. He tried to shake free, feeling how fucking pointless it would be to attempt to throw himself off the bed when he wouldn't be able to make it to the door like this but trying nevertheless. "Not everyone wants you," he told Leon, the man's self assurance grating enough. "And even if I wanted you before, it doesn't mean that I want you now. I don't." He was hard and needing and even if he couldn't kick the man away from him with the cuffs holding his legs, it didn't make him stop wanting to. Instead he attempted to heave himself off Leon's lap, even if it would just send him gracelessly to the floor. Every second was the danger of being drowned in his own lust and he said, "I don't need you," again, holding on the phrase despite the way it would have been easier to just give Leon what he wanted.
Every time Matt tried to escape he could feel him gathering himself for it and that made it easy to stop him, to catch him around the waist to keep him from heaving himself out of his lap, and this time he moved him himself, not to let him escape but to lay him across the bed on his stomach so that he could climb over him. One paint-wet hand held him by the hip and it was another handprint left on his skin, another mark of ownership. His body pounded with desire and he hoped that the paint wouldn't be easily washed away; he hoped it would stain the man's skin for days and be a reminder every time he looked at his naked body of how it belonged to Leon.
He sank down over Matt, holding him with the length of his entire body, the weight of him to pin him down to the mattress. His lips came to that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring against the skin. "You always need me. Why is it so hard to say?" His cock was a swollen insinuation against Matt's ass, rubbed back and forth as he pushed his hips against him and smeared himself with blue, but he didn't fuck him. Not yet. "That's all we are, you and me. Just need. Everything I do to you is just an extension of it." There were times when this man's words had the power to rip him apart but not like this. Not when he was bound and helpless and not when he had been beating his cock off against Leon's thigh a moment ago and not when being whipped my a belt had made him moan like that. Illusion tore itself apart under such reactions; that was why he did things like this. His mouth brushed Matt's ear. "I'll fuck you if you ask me to, you know. I won't make you wait. Just tell me how you need it."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and turned Matt over onto his back. His eyes were on his face, studying, caressing, as he reached to wet his fingers in the paint again and wrap them around the man's dick. "You said before I can't really make anyone mine but that's shit. You've never felt this for anyone else." He gripped Matt's hair and held him still to kiss him, teeth closing on his lower lip. He wanted the taste of him to be everything he held inside him; he needed this man so badly but he had never tried to hide it. That was one thing Matt was right about. His hand ran up and down the length of his cock, spreading the blue paint over every inch of it, but he wasn't going to let the man come like this. There were so many ways to torment him without relief. To listen to him say I can't and only drive it into him more, ruthless and unrelenting.
The words were on the tip of his tongue and it would be so easy to ask Leon to fuck him but he didn't want to lose. He didn't know when it'd become important to keep from giving Leon what he wanted but it was. He wanted to keep anything the man wanted away from him. Leon seemed to drag him around as easily as if he were a toy and the words were the only thing he could keep the man from taking so he bit them back. It wasn't as easy to keep quiet while Leon rubbed his cock against his ass and made him want him more. His breaths were ragged and exaggerated, the sound thankfully smothered against the sheets, even if he couldn't quite hide the way his ass pushed back against Leon, rocking off the bed in unsubtle motion, desire leading the way just as easily as Leon's hands were capable of.
The bed was damp under his mouth and it felt like the more he tried to hold back the more he wanted and it wasn't fair but then nothing about this ever seemed to be. They lived a series of extremes and it was always unfair.
Being rolled around to lay on his arms was losing the defense the bed provided. There was nothing to hide his groan against when Leon's paint slick fingers moved over his cock and coated him in blue. There were lies he could offer but his body contradicted every single one of them. He couldn't even make himself meet Leon's eyes because he was afraid of giving the man he wanted without words. His head tipped back and he stared at the ceiling and still thrust into Leon's hand, feeling like it must be someone else who was wanting this so fucking badly but it wasn't. It was always just him. "I've never felt this way for anyone else," he agreed. "But it doesn't mean I want to feel it for you either. All you do is take me apart so I don't know why I want you so badly. I don't know how people could want to feel this way."
It wasn't just this. He meant the emotions between them too, the declarations of love and the attempts to possess when both were so fucking obscene as it was. He couldn't think of something more obscene than being in love with this man. "Stop fucking around," he told Leon, even though he kissed him back when the man's mouth pressed against his, roughly, fervently, the knowledge burning him that if his hands had been free he would have been pulling Leon closer instead of shoving him back.
His fingers were tight around Matt's cock and he let the man thrust into them how he would, wanting to possess every way his body moved and reacted, wanted to drive it all with his touch, his hands and his mouth on him, his cock inside him. He ate at him with the kiss, his tongue in his mouth, sucking at the taste of him and he thought briefly of putting the man's cock in his mouth, paint and all, but instead he broke the kiss to brush lips against his throat. "Tell me why the fuck it matters why you want me. Why either of us want any of this. It just is."
He wet his hand in paint again and dragged it across Matt's chest, making aimless, meaningless patterns, tracing the edges of the blue lines with his mouth and tongue. The tension in the man's body was beguiling; he wanted to chase it everywhere it rippled, wanted to feel him rigid with it and ready to snap. "Tell me you need me," he said again, fingers working his cock, mouth brushing against his hip. "Tell me to give you my cock because you can't stand it when I'm not inside you." These touches were gentle. He wouldn't let him come from them, he wouldn't give him anything fast or urgent or hard, he wouldn't fuck him as though to break him apart until he asked him to.
He knew what the stakes were of these games they played but he wanted to make the man admit this to him. It wasn't enough to have him tied beneath him, to do anything to him and make him moan with it when he would still hold this back, these words. He pushed Matt's thighs up and ducked his head between his legs to lick at his balls, sucking them into his mouth. Tasted the paint and Matt's skin, his sweat and the heat of his arousal, holding his hips between his hands. This man was his, every reaction was his and he wanted so badly to fuck him but it wasn't enough.
He wanted to be able to come from just this. The suction of Leon's mouth on his balls loosened sound into a wretched moan and he was smacking his head back against the mattress because he couldn't deal with all this need. It was stronger than he was, more determined, and he twisted on the bed in an attempt to free himself from Leon's mouth and touch, except Leon was right. The explanation just wasn't important. He succeeded in making himself breathless but need was still there.
"I need you," he told the man, not quite wanting to focus on what he said. His back arched, hips squirming with every pull of lust, and he wanted to feel Leon's dick splitting him open again so badly that he couldn't fucking stand it. "I need you to fuck me now. I want you shoved so far up my ass that I can't feel anything but you pounding into me." He threw away every argument he'd made that night as unimportant. In a way, it was. Nothing mattered quite as much as how stricken with arousal Leon left him, and he'd been feeling it tearing at him from the moment Leon had stripped in his room. "Fuck me." Pushing his body at Leon wasn't as effective as he wanted it to be. "Fuckmefuckmefuckme."
The sheets were clinging to his sweat slick skin and he was half afraid that Leon hadn't meant what he said when he told Matt he wouldn't make him wait.
There was so much lust in him it felt as though it might split him apart. It expanded on every breath and with every word that Matt threw blindly into the room and it swelled in him, dragged in him; there was so much he wanted to give this man and he waited for him to stop talking before he lifted his head and grasped his hips and turned him onto his side. The entire room was dark and waiting with the raw need that had been laced through Matt's voice and he rested a hand on his hip and breathed him in, still and crouched beside him. Only for a moment, though, because of the promise that he'd made. His hand found the oil he'd left at the side of his bed and he spilled it into his fingers and slicked it over his cock.
Words didn't seem necessary. There wasn't any reply he could make that could echo the force of his lust any better than his body sliding into place behind Matt's and his hand gripping his hip to hold him steady while he pushed his cock inside him. The oil made him slick and he slid deep into him at once, thrusting his hips in smooth motion, grasping at the nape of his neck with his teeth. This man in his arms was his, this tight hot ass was his and he wanted to pound into it until lust and pleasure ravaged him and swept him clean of anything but need. Every barrier between them was something to break down just so he could hammer home how inseparable they were. Love was possession, was his body meeting Matt's in smacks of skin, was his cock hard and thick inside him and sliding so fucking deep while he gripped his hip and pulled him back to meet the penetrations. He fucked him rough and urgent, mouth dragging over his neck and shoulders and any part of him it could reach and his oil-slick fingers came around the man's dick, tightening mercilessly as they stroked him.
"This is what you need." It was a statement not a question, his voice so low it was barely audible, his mouth pressed to Matt's ear. "Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how much you've needed my cock in you and how it would kill you if I stopped." He wouldn't have stopped, though. Nothing could undo this, the way he moved inside this man and wrote ownership over him with every thrust, every stroke and every drag of his mouth. "Tell me how you belong to me."
His face pressed mindlessly to the sheets when Leon turned him. They were damp with sweat but he couldn't focus on anything but desire. He could feel his lust tightening inside him, pulling at his balls and cock, and every second Leon didn't touch him was his sanity slipping between his fingers. It hurt to breathe or to even exist. It wasn't until Leon's prick was pushing into him that he could relax, panting need on the sheets and shuddering at how suddenly Leon was fully inside of him. The man's presence was everywhere, dragging its arms around him and holding him tightly until he lost his grasp on himself and couldn't think of anything but Leon's prick moving inside him. The man took and took and he was repulsed by how he'd run from the man rather than asking him to fuck him sooner than this because he couldn't exist without this and it was stupid to try. Leon's fingers sunk into his skin, dragging him into each fuck, and he was making meaningless noises of desire without being aware of it, the hand on his erection drawing a moan.
It was too easy to be destroyed by something as simple as the man's voice at his ear. He couldn't pretend anymore and he bit at the sheets and attempted to prevent himself from speaking for a moment longer. The thought of this ending was an ugly feeling inside of him though and he turned his head to say, "I belong to you," fingers pushing into each other from where they were clasped behind him. He pressed back into how Leon's dick moved into him and sucked in oxygen like he were drowning. "I need your cock so fucking bad that the thought you stopping makes me want to die." The words felt blind and he kept going out of instinct, attempting to fuck the man's hand throughout. "I don't want it to stop. I need you to keep fucking me until I pass out and I want to wake up to you fucking yourself on me and to keep fucking until its impossible to remember how to do anything else."
Wanting more than this man was an impossibility when he was already so fucking full on need for him that he was choked and wretched with his desire to touch him.
The words felt like they were going to make him insane and he didn't know how to listen to them without wanting to break Matt in response. He'd drawn them out of him and still they made everything in him desire to shatter this man with the force of his fucking because it was too much to hear Matt gasp out how he belonged to him. He held him tightly while he drove his dick into him, kept him against him, kept him secure in his arms and said hoarsely, "I won't ever stop. I won't ever give you anything less than this. You belong to me, you'll always belong to me." He held him by the hip, rubbed his face against the nape of his neck. The man's ass was a tightness he wanted to shove himself into forever. It was slick and so easy to fuck him, to get deep into him and the way the man gasped and smothered moans into the sheets, the way he tried to shove back against him and fuck his dick into his fingers all at once felt like it had the power to break him in return. There was nothing this man could do that didn't resound in him deeper than he could bear.
"I can't stand how good you feel to me. I want to take everything you are and erase every piece of you that I'm not written all over. I could make you mindless with wanting me." Maybe each word was arrogance but it didn't feel that way with how he breathed them into Matt's skin, how his love for him was a wretched thing that was gouging at him with every thrust of his cock into the man's body. He thought of untying him to let him grasp at him while he fucked him but then he couldn't bear the thought of letting him go. The restraints made him Leon's prisoner and that was such a gorgeous and endearing thing, fucking through his helplessness, making him wait to be broken. Making him ask for it because he couldn't reach out and take it for himself. His hand reached between them and found Matt's bound wrists and curved over him as though to soothe him, still the way he struggled against the restraint.
Then he pushed Matt onto his stomach and rolled with him, ending up on top of him as though he wanted to smother him beneath the weight of his desire, the entire length of his body rocking against him so that his cock was in motion deep inside his ass. "Come for me," he said and his voice was low and there was a tenderness in it, in his hand still holding the man's hip and the other braced against the mattress while his mouth disheveled his hair and the nape of his neck, tasting the dampness of sweat there.
Leon's words ravished him just as easily as the man's dick did. Instead of fucking his body, they fucked deep into his mind and into the tangle of emotions Leon provoked. He couldn't remember the last time he'd simply wanted him. Hesitancy seemed to work itself into habit and he kept playing the game of pushing him away and pulling him closer instead of just taking what he wanted. Even in the memories of their time together, there was a growing awareness of how no matter how often they grew close, married, fucked, it was always too furious. It was too overwhelming.
"It'd be better if you did. I can't stand being like this. Being mostly yours isn't enough, I want you all over like a disease that'll kill me because that's what you feel like." Leon was a nightmare and he kept crawling back to him, in thoughts, in dreams, the way the man's cock hit into him feeling deep enough that it could leave the sensation of it behind in him. He was breathing and tasting sweat and he wasn't good for anything else but this. Rubbing and rubbing against the bed he tried to ignore Leon's words but in the end it was what he wanted too.
He was incapable of stopping his release. It came violently, drawn by the tenderness in Leon's voice, and he would have shivered and melted into the sheets in a puddle of sex and sweat if it hadn't dug through his skeleton and emptied him first. His cry wasn't quite muffled on the bed and he wished Leon's mouth had been on his to choke it down his throat instead but it wasn't and the belt was still digging into his skin and keeping him immobile under the man's cock like he were made to do nothing but feel.
Leon watched him sink back again as though giving up and then he approached, slowly, the candlelight flickering over them both and his mind full of this man, his body pulsing with the awareness of him. He thought of what it would have been like to fight him in ancient combat, to batter his weapons from his hands, to shove him down to the ground and strip him of armor and clothing, bind him and take him captive. Maybe he would have fucked him for the first time right there, on their battlefield, on the dirt churned by feet and blood. When he reached the bedside he put the oil and the paint aside, keeping the belt in hand. His fingers slid into Matt's hair, gripping the strands of it. He turned the man's face up to him and leaned down to lick at his cheek.
Drawing back, he turned the man over onto his stomach and grabbed a pillow to shove it underneath his hips. His hand held the nape of his neck for a moment, pinning him down, and then he let it run down his spine in a long caress, over his ass, one of his thighs. He lifted the belt and brought it down across the backs of his thighs in a light swat. Then again, a little harder.
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He attempted to stay put while Leon turned him around but it was a pitiful attempt, even if the other man hadn't been completely capable of dictating where he wanted him. His breath caught with the pillow pushed in beneath him and the caress that followed was rough and he didn't know how to stop responding or wanting these moments to keep going on until he couldn't sense anything else.
There was too much that was different from the last time. It was obnoxious not to be able to watch the other man, to have nothing but apprehension tiptoeing over his skin while he lay there and felt Leon's gaze and the edges coating every second that existed before the belt hit. He shouldn't have been surprised but he was. The sound was smothered against the strap around his mouth but it came again a moment, a little more strangled, when the belt hit him again and his knees were already digging into the mattress to work himself off the pillow despite the way it was always going to thrill him to have this man drive him to his knees. Maybe it was because of it that he didn't want to stand it. He'd done this to people before, both consciously and in the little realities the hotel spawned for them, but he wasn't used to being the one caught in place.
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It raised a flush that time, redness in his pale skin and he touched the place to feel the heat in it, then took his hand away and smacked his ass. Again, again after that, the blows spaced apart as though to be unpredictable, his eyes on Matt at every moment and he wondered if the man could feel the weight of his gaze. Could feel how attracted to him Leon was, to the sight of his wrists bound behind his back and his hips working against the pillow, the redness in his skin and the faint weals on his ass cheeks as he kept bringing the belt down across them. The smack of sound was a rhythmic pulse in the room. He circled around the bed and the man stretched out on it, striking him from different angles. Now and again he paused a while to let him breathe, sitting on the edge of the mattress and caressing his thigh in his free hand.
At one point he laid the belt aside on the mattress and brought a hand to his ass to spread him open, licking his fingers before he pushed them slowly inside him. He worked them in, his eyes resting on that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck as though his gaze could be enough to hold him in place. He was so fucking hard, aroused to unbearable degrees by the sounds Matt had made while he was whipping him, the way he'd moved. He wanted to fuck him then but he didn't want to stop yet, didn't want to stop making Matt aware of his helplessness at every fucking moment.
He grasped him abruptly and pulled him off the pillow and slung him over his lap instead, facedown, his erection digging into the man's stomach. His hand on his ass again for a moment, caressing, then lifting away to smack him hard, with an open palm.
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He was offering a litany of fucks inside his head when Leon held him spread him open though and he shuddered violently when the man's fingers pushed inside of him. Everything Leon did could easily destroy him and he hated him for it. He hated how easy it was to feel lust for him and to want more of this. He didn't want to feel more, didn't want to feel the way Leon's eyes moved over him, his entire body twisting while the man fucked him with his fingers. The touch made him feel more than the burn of the belt had and he pushed back into it, even if it didn't last long and Leon was pulling him off the pillow and on his lap.
It only took that first smack to electrify and choke his breath off. He forced his way to his knees, shoving Leon with his shoulder, and he didn't want to feel that. Lust had shoveled deep inside him and he could feel it in his balls and in his cock, a breath that was more a shiver and a pounding of his pulse that made him feel more aware than he wanted to be. The belt had been impersonal at least, this was too close, and if running away was too embarrassing, he turned to distraction instead, turning to press Leon against the bed even if there was no way to hold him down but with his weight.
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"You said something once. It has to hurt to mean anything." He'd heard those words more than once, or some variation of them; the sentiment was everything their relationship seemed to mean. He licked at Matt's cheek and then turned him in his hands and pushed him down again. Facedown like he'd been, one of his hands resting at the nape of his neck and the other running over his ass and thighs, stroking for a few moments before he lifted his hand away and struck him again. Desire twisted in him with every way he touched this man. He smacked him again, again, holding him pinned, and he was drowning in it, wanting to make Matt take more than he could stand so that they might drown together.
Lust was a monster in him. He stopped and slid a hand between Matt's thighs to cup his balls, squeezing him lightly, and every caress was a new and separate attempt to possess him. His fingers gripped roughly in his hair, then let go to undo the tie of the gag with brusque jerks.
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The fact that it had to hurt meant shit to him now because he never meant to be the one in a situation like this. The fact that it was Leon doing this to him only made it more excruciatingly because it made him want this even while his mind was refusing to accept it. Being dragged down over Leon's thighs was too baring and he was breathing too hard and close to whining while the man smacked the welts the belt had left on his skin. If he attempted to edge away, he was just rubbing against Leon's lap, the helplessness in this emphasized by how he was held down by the back of the neck. Tension seemed to have filled him completely and he was inhaling more of it in with every slap of Leon's hand on his ass. Choking on a moan behind the strap, he felt distorted by his own need to be torn apart by this man in simple gestures.
The sensation only intensified with Leon's hand cupping his balls. It felt like his limbs were going to melt with his desire for the man but that made it more disgusting too because he couldn't stand how fucking pathetic he was. Being freed from the strap around his mouth only made it more obvious because strangling the attempt to beg didn't make it less obvious that he wanted to. "You proved your point," he told Leon after a moment and his voice didn't feel familiar enough. "Now let go. I don't want it to mean more than this." His shoulders ached from how his arms were held behind him and the way he couldn't relax. Leaving didn't really feel like an option but then he didn't know what did. Staying on Leon's lap was impossible but moving off was just as fucking hard. His knees dug into the mattress and his hips lifted but he couldn't pull away completely while Leon held on to his hair. His prick was hard against him and he needed this man but that meant shit.
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Everything was an enchantment. Everything about the man beneath him allured him impossibly and he couldn't stop running hands over him when he wasn't striking him, couldn't help smacking him again when the caresses became too much to bear. He let Matt dig knees into the mattress and lift himself up just so he could grasp his hip and push him down again. He was remembering the sounds the man had made when it was his hand hitting him and not the belt, how the timber of his voice had been different. His hips writhing against Leon's thigh. His erection was monstrously thick, swelled and engorged against Matt's stomach and Leon stared at his red sore ass and wanted to pound it until the man was begging.
"You don't want me to let you go," he told him, low and tense, his hand closing again on the nape of his neck to pin him there. "You need this. You need me to fuck you until you can't think anymore." He thought of pushing him down onto the mattress again and spreading him open to tongue his asshole but instead he reached over him for the pot of blue war paint he'd found in the wardrobe. "I want to hear you say it."
He dipped forefingers into it experimentally. The paint was wet and cool and it dripped against Matt's skin in the moments before he put his fingers to the center of his back. It made a vivid swath, a straight arrow down his back where his fingers traced and he watched the blue of it staining Matt's skin, thought briefly of writing his name on him but that could only be redundant. Instead he dipped his fingers again and ran them along his ass crack. "Tell me you need me to fuck you." Paint-wet fingers slid between his legs to fondle his balls again, smearing them with color and thought of painting his cock entirely blue. "It won't cost you anything to say it." He wanted it to, though. He wanted to feel every part of this man resisting the urge to beg him and then he wanted to feed lust into him until he couldn't take it anymore, until he broke under the weight of need and begging was all that was left to him. There was no running away, there was no choice in it. There was just feeling and more feeling, Matt's body hot and tense across his thighs, paint sliding wet down his palm and he smacked his ass again for the satisfaction of the handprint it left in blue.
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He was reaching for words blindly, throwing them at Leon as if it weren't so obvious that every touch provoked the opposite reaction. "It was just convenient to have your dick when I needed to screw and couldn't bother to exert the effort for anything more. You're just a convenient lay," he repeated, hating the way the paint dried on his skin like a brand of this man's possession, and he thought he'd been paying attention but it startled him when Leon's hand hit against his ass and he mostly yelped out the, "Fuck!" that came after. "I can't-" Stay here.
Every second he stayed stretched over Leon's thighs was lust digging deeper inside of him with the push of Leon's erection against him. He tried to shake free, feeling how fucking pointless it would be to attempt to throw himself off the bed when he wouldn't be able to make it to the door like this but trying nevertheless. "Not everyone wants you," he told Leon, the man's self assurance grating enough. "And even if I wanted you before, it doesn't mean that I want you now. I don't." He was hard and needing and even if he couldn't kick the man away from him with the cuffs holding his legs, it didn't make him stop wanting to. Instead he attempted to heave himself off Leon's lap, even if it would just send him gracelessly to the floor. Every second was the danger of being drowned in his own lust and he said, "I don't need you," again, holding on the phrase despite the way it would have been easier to just give Leon what he wanted.
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He sank down over Matt, holding him with the length of his entire body, the weight of him to pin him down to the mattress. His lips came to that vulnerable place at the nape of his neck and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring against the skin. "You always need me. Why is it so hard to say?" His cock was a swollen insinuation against Matt's ass, rubbed back and forth as he pushed his hips against him and smeared himself with blue, but he didn't fuck him. Not yet. "That's all we are, you and me. Just need. Everything I do to you is just an extension of it." There were times when this man's words had the power to rip him apart but not like this. Not when he was bound and helpless and not when he had been beating his cock off against Leon's thigh a moment ago and not when being whipped my a belt had made him moan like that. Illusion tore itself apart under such reactions; that was why he did things like this. His mouth brushed Matt's ear. "I'll fuck you if you ask me to, you know. I won't make you wait. Just tell me how you need it."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and turned Matt over onto his back. His eyes were on his face, studying, caressing, as he reached to wet his fingers in the paint again and wrap them around the man's dick. "You said before I can't really make anyone mine but that's shit. You've never felt this for anyone else." He gripped Matt's hair and held him still to kiss him, teeth closing on his lower lip. He wanted the taste of him to be everything he held inside him; he needed this man so badly but he had never tried to hide it. That was one thing Matt was right about. His hand ran up and down the length of his cock, spreading the blue paint over every inch of it, but he wasn't going to let the man come like this. There were so many ways to torment him without relief. To listen to him say I can't and only drive it into him more, ruthless and unrelenting.
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The bed was damp under his mouth and it felt like the more he tried to hold back the more he wanted and it wasn't fair but then nothing about this ever seemed to be. They lived a series of extremes and it was always unfair.
Being rolled around to lay on his arms was losing the defense the bed provided. There was nothing to hide his groan against when Leon's paint slick fingers moved over his cock and coated him in blue. There were lies he could offer but his body contradicted every single one of them. He couldn't even make himself meet Leon's eyes because he was afraid of giving the man he wanted without words. His head tipped back and he stared at the ceiling and still thrust into Leon's hand, feeling like it must be someone else who was wanting this so fucking badly but it wasn't. It was always just him. "I've never felt this way for anyone else," he agreed. "But it doesn't mean I want to feel it for you either. All you do is take me apart so I don't know why I want you so badly. I don't know how people could want to feel this way."
It wasn't just this. He meant the emotions between them too, the declarations of love and the attempts to possess when both were so fucking obscene as it was. He couldn't think of something more obscene than being in love with this man. "Stop fucking around," he told Leon, even though he kissed him back when the man's mouth pressed against his, roughly, fervently, the knowledge burning him that if his hands had been free he would have been pulling Leon closer instead of shoving him back.
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He wet his hand in paint again and dragged it across Matt's chest, making aimless, meaningless patterns, tracing the edges of the blue lines with his mouth and tongue. The tension in the man's body was beguiling; he wanted to chase it everywhere it rippled, wanted to feel him rigid with it and ready to snap. "Tell me you need me," he said again, fingers working his cock, mouth brushing against his hip. "Tell me to give you my cock because you can't stand it when I'm not inside you." These touches were gentle. He wouldn't let him come from them, he wouldn't give him anything fast or urgent or hard, he wouldn't fuck him as though to break him apart until he asked him to.
He knew what the stakes were of these games they played but he wanted to make the man admit this to him. It wasn't enough to have him tied beneath him, to do anything to him and make him moan with it when he would still hold this back, these words. He pushed Matt's thighs up and ducked his head between his legs to lick at his balls, sucking them into his mouth. Tasted the paint and Matt's skin, his sweat and the heat of his arousal, holding his hips between his hands. This man was his, every reaction was his and he wanted so badly to fuck him but it wasn't enough.
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"I need you," he told the man, not quite wanting to focus on what he said. His back arched, hips squirming with every pull of lust, and he wanted to feel Leon's dick splitting him open again so badly that he couldn't fucking stand it. "I need you to fuck me now. I want you shoved so far up my ass that I can't feel anything but you pounding into me." He threw away every argument he'd made that night as unimportant. In a way, it was. Nothing mattered quite as much as how stricken with arousal Leon left him, and he'd been feeling it tearing at him from the moment Leon had stripped in his room. "Fuck me." Pushing his body at Leon wasn't as effective as he wanted it to be. "Fuckmefuckmefuckme."
The sheets were clinging to his sweat slick skin and he was half afraid that Leon hadn't meant what he said when he told Matt he wouldn't make him wait.
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Words didn't seem necessary. There wasn't any reply he could make that could echo the force of his lust any better than his body sliding into place behind Matt's and his hand gripping his hip to hold him steady while he pushed his cock inside him. The oil made him slick and he slid deep into him at once, thrusting his hips in smooth motion, grasping at the nape of his neck with his teeth. This man in his arms was his, this tight hot ass was his and he wanted to pound into it until lust and pleasure ravaged him and swept him clean of anything but need. Every barrier between them was something to break down just so he could hammer home how inseparable they were. Love was possession, was his body meeting Matt's in smacks of skin, was his cock hard and thick inside him and sliding so fucking deep while he gripped his hip and pulled him back to meet the penetrations. He fucked him rough and urgent, mouth dragging over his neck and shoulders and any part of him it could reach and his oil-slick fingers came around the man's dick, tightening mercilessly as they stroked him.
"This is what you need." It was a statement not a question, his voice so low it was barely audible, his mouth pressed to Matt's ear. "Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how much you've needed my cock in you and how it would kill you if I stopped." He wouldn't have stopped, though. Nothing could undo this, the way he moved inside this man and wrote ownership over him with every thrust, every stroke and every drag of his mouth. "Tell me how you belong to me."
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It was too easy to be destroyed by something as simple as the man's voice at his ear. He couldn't pretend anymore and he bit at the sheets and attempted to prevent himself from speaking for a moment longer. The thought of this ending was an ugly feeling inside of him though and he turned his head to say, "I belong to you," fingers pushing into each other from where they were clasped behind him. He pressed back into how Leon's dick moved into him and sucked in oxygen like he were drowning. "I need your cock so fucking bad that the thought you stopping makes me want to die." The words felt blind and he kept going out of instinct, attempting to fuck the man's hand throughout. "I don't want it to stop. I need you to keep fucking me until I pass out and I want to wake up to you fucking yourself on me and to keep fucking until its impossible to remember how to do anything else."
Wanting more than this man was an impossibility when he was already so fucking full on need for him that he was choked and wretched with his desire to touch him.
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"I can't stand how good you feel to me. I want to take everything you are and erase every piece of you that I'm not written all over. I could make you mindless with wanting me." Maybe each word was arrogance but it didn't feel that way with how he breathed them into Matt's skin, how his love for him was a wretched thing that was gouging at him with every thrust of his cock into the man's body. He thought of untying him to let him grasp at him while he fucked him but then he couldn't bear the thought of letting him go. The restraints made him Leon's prisoner and that was such a gorgeous and endearing thing, fucking through his helplessness, making him wait to be broken. Making him ask for it because he couldn't reach out and take it for himself. His hand reached between them and found Matt's bound wrists and curved over him as though to soothe him, still the way he struggled against the restraint.
Then he pushed Matt onto his stomach and rolled with him, ending up on top of him as though he wanted to smother him beneath the weight of his desire, the entire length of his body rocking against him so that his cock was in motion deep inside his ass. "Come for me," he said and his voice was low and there was a tenderness in it, in his hand still holding the man's hip and the other braced against the mattress while his mouth disheveled his hair and the nape of his neck, tasting the dampness of sweat there.
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"It'd be better if you did. I can't stand being like this. Being mostly yours isn't enough, I want you all over like a disease that'll kill me because that's what you feel like." Leon was a nightmare and he kept crawling back to him, in thoughts, in dreams, the way the man's cock hit into him feeling deep enough that it could leave the sensation of it behind in him. He was breathing and tasting sweat and he wasn't good for anything else but this. Rubbing and rubbing against the bed he tried to ignore Leon's words but in the end it was what he wanted too.
He was incapable of stopping his release. It came violently, drawn by the tenderness in Leon's voice, and he would have shivered and melted into the sheets in a puddle of sex and sweat if it hadn't dug through his skeleton and emptied him first. His cry wasn't quite muffled on the bed and he wished Leon's mouth had been on his to choke it down his throat instead but it wasn't and the belt was still digging into his skin and keeping him immobile under the man's cock like he were made to do nothing but feel.
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