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Sep 08, 2010 12:21

“I still don’t understand,” Asher laughed softly, pushing open the door to his bedroom, sliding his coat off his shoulders. “People call that entertainment?” He’d seen films in his time, of course, but what he and Nathaniel had just watched...he didn’t see anything ‘romantic’ about the idiotic behaviour both the leads had exhibited throughout the film. He hung up his jacket, catching hold of Nathaniel’s wrist and tugging him closer.

“I believe we could have kept ourselves entertained here...” he purrs, wrapping his arms around Nathaniel’s waist, rubbing his nose against Nat’s.

Nathaniel laughs as he wraps his arms around Asher’s neck. “Entertained, maybe, but there wouldn’t have been popcorn and Snowcaps,” he points out, nipping at Asher’s lower lip. “It’s not much of a night off if we spend it locked away in your room fucking our brains out, is it?”

He likes teasing Asher, poking at him. “Besides, it’s only three hours out of our night. We have the rest of the night to occupy ourselves.”

“Mmmm, the popcorn was possibly worth it...” Asher grins at Nathaniel, light and happy. He runs his hands down Nathaniel’s back, grabbing his braid and winding it around his hand until he reaches the end, pulling the hair tie free. He loves Nathaniel’s hair loose, loves being able to wind his hands in it.

Running his fingers through the braids, he spreads Nathaniel’s hair loose, letting it tumble over his shoulders. “Mon chat jolie,” he murmurs, kissing Nathaniel sweetly.

Nathaniel’s purr starts, deep and content, as he opens to Asher. The long fingers through his hair make him shiver, and he presses closer. The compliments are wonderful, and he drinks them in like the desperate sponge he is for praise. “You didn’t enjoy the Snowcaps?” he asks between the kisses.

“Not as much as the popcorn,” Asher admits, tugging gently on Nathaniel’s hair, coaxing him to tilt his head back, bare the smooth, pale column of his throat. He nips lightly just under Nat’s jaw, teasing both of them with the gentle press of fangs against skin, not quite hard enough to draw blood.

Nathaniel shudders against him, a soft whimper in his throat. The teasing was almost as satisfying as the feeding itself. “Shame on you, not liking chocolate more than popcorn,” he whispers. “What sort of Frenchman are you?”

“Mon chat,” Asher murmurs throatily. “That was not chocolate.” he kisses the curve of Nathaniel’s neck, where it meets his shoulder, trailing his lips back up to the bitemark that’s practically a permanent scar by now.

“One day I will buy you proper chocolate,” he breathes, “let it melt on our skin, have you lick it off...” he shudders a little at the thought, of Nathaniel’s tongue on his skin, the phantom taste of good chocolate on his tongue.

Asher could so easily reduce him to a puddle of squirming, desperate goo, and Nathaniel loves it. He rubs himself shamelessly against Asher’s fine clothes, his hands sliding under the soft silk of Asher’s shirt. That image is bright in his mind. “I could... stop by the mall and pick up some Godiva tomorrow...” he pants.

Laughing softly, Asher nuzzles Nathaniel’s throat, sliding his hands down through the curtain of Nathaniel’s hair, cupping his delicious rear and pulling him closer.

“I think perhaps that might work,” he murmurs, nipping again before pulling away, taking Nathaniel’s hand and leading him towards the bed. It’s early yet and they have plenty of time to enjoy each other tonight...and Asher is thoroughly enjoying the tease.

“They supposedly have very nice chocolate,” Nathaniel says, following Asher obediently. “I wouldn’t know, of course, because I don’t eat such things.”

He’s full of shit, as his copious consumption of popcorn and Snowcaps had shown during the movie.

“But, for you, I could make an exception,” Nathaniel purrs, climbing atop the bed. “I know you’ll help me work off the calories.”

Asher just eyes Nathaniel, one eyebrow arched. He knows, very well, just what Nathaniel’s eating habits are like - and, he has to admit, indulges them shamelessly because he reaps the benefit. And gets to help Nathaniel ‘exercise’ the calories away afterwards.

“I am nothing if not helpful, mon chat,” Asher murmurs, sliding onto the bed and pushing Nathaniel down onto the silk sheets with a firm hand on his shoulder. He takes a moment to sit back, enjoying the spread of rich hair and pale skin over dark sheets, Nathaniel’s skin almost glowing. “So beautiful,” he breathes, smiling softly. “As always.”

A light flush moves over Nathaniel’s features, because with Asher, he knows the compliment is honestly given. Asher values beautiful things, and to be truly counted among them makes Nathaniel feel so special. “So are you,” he purrs up at Asher, sliding his own hands sensually down his body for Asher’s benefit. “You always have been.”

Asher’s gaze follows Nathaniel’s hands, a soft, wanting sound escaping him.

“You know it was mild torture, sitting beside you in that theater,” he murmurs, “able to taste what you were eating, but unable to kiss that taste from your mouth.” He leans close, brushing his lips against Nathaniel’s gently at first, then bruisingly hard. His fangs prick at Nat’s full lower lip, breaking skin just enough to taint their kiss with blood, to draw a soft groan from low in Asher’s throat.

Nathaniel’s fingers pop the buttons on Asher’s pretty shirt. The tease of blood makes the cat inside him stretch, pique at the flavor that makes the beast wake. “Teaches you... patience,” he says between deepening kisses.

“I have no need of patience,” Asher insists stubbornly. “I have been patient long enough.” Centuries of waiting, for Jean-Claude or for Belle Morte, have left him with little tolerance for delayed gratification. When he is not in control, at least. With Nathaniel spread out below him, utterly at his mercy, it is a different thing entirely.

His hands slide down Nathaniel’s shoulders to his wrists, long fingers curling around them, tugging Nat’s arms up above his head, towards the headboard. Moving to straddle his lover, Asher tears Nathaniel’s shirt off him, before fastening black leather cuffs around his wrists. He pauses consideringly, eyeing the various chains and hooks attached to their bed, deciding how best to restrain his cat.

Nathaniel is lucky that for every shirt Asher destroys, the vampire replaces it with three more. His closet at Anita’s was stuffed full, and the one here was quickly filling up. He is a spoiled cat, and Nathaniel’s rather pleased with that fact. He’d give anything for Asher, to make Asher happy, and if it makes him happy, too? It is an easy thing to give. “Asher,” he moans, a shiver running down his spine in anticipation.

Asher leaves Nathaniel unrestrained for now, though he leaves the cuffs in place. He kisses the soft inside of Nat’s wrist, just above the cuff, his fangs lengthening, eyes bleeding to a brighter blue. He moves higher, kissing the crook of Nathaniel’s elbow, scraping his fangs against skin, gently piercing the vein. He lets Nat feel the pain for an instant, before beginning to roll him. Pleasure flows over them both, a quiet moan muffled against Nathaniel’s arm as Asher feeds.

There’s nothing like being rolled by his master, and Nathaniel sinks into the pleasure. If he hadn’t already been hard, that moment of pain followed by the bright pleasure of Asher’s magic would have done it. He writhes a little beneath Asher, moaning softly as he watches with dazed, eager eyes, the lavender dark with lust. He’s a willing feast for Asher, and Nathaniel is quite content in his place. “Yes,” he breathes, his hips shifting impatiently.

“Now who is lacking in patience?” Asher murmurs, pulling back from Nathaniel’s arm, wiping away the blood with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. He kisses his way up Nathaniel’s arm to his throat, mouth hovering over his pulsepoint, his fangs a breath away from piercing skin...before he moves abruptly away, kissing Nathaniel instead. He pins Nathaniel with knees and hands, stretching his body, Nathaniel’s arms held above his head in one hand.

Nathaniel cries out into the kiss, the trick making his blood boil all the more with need. It’s a wicked tease, and he knows he’s probably far more lacking in patience than Asher is when it comes to sex between them. It’s addictive, the rush of being wanted and cherished even as he’s made to bleed and scream. His tongue slides along Asher’s, sucking it deeper into his mouth as his muscles stretch wonderfully under Asher’s hands, and he struggles only a little, making Asher use just a little force to keep him in place.

Asher growls softly against Nathaniel’s lips, pinning him more firmly. That little taste of Nathaniel’s blood just has him craving more, and he’s too impatient to tease much more. He nuzzles Nat’s throat, encouraging him to tilt his head back. He kisses his bitemark, laving it with his tongue before biting down hard, feeling scarred skin give beneath his fangs. The blood spills over his tongue, his gift fed back through the blood as Asher grows hard, Nathaniel’s blood flushing his cheeks.

Nathaniel cries out, bucking beneath Asher as much as he’s able, feeling helpless under the strength and hunger of his vampire. He moans, head lolling to the side to give Asher full access to his throat, pleasure washing over him both through Asher’s gift and the distant knowledge that he makes Asher hard. His blood, his body. It’s a deeply gratifying feeling he never gets tired of, and he rubs himself wantonly against Asher.

Asher groans softly, reluctant to pull away, though he knows he must. He’s not done yet, not even close, and he can’t take too much from Nathaniel. One mouthful more, two, and he releases Nat. He grinds his hips down, grinning wolfishly, his lips and teeth stained red.

“So pretty,” he purrs, shifting his grip on Nathaniel’s wrists, parting them, drawing them up to the headboard. “Stay still, mon chat,” he orders, buckling each wrist to the corner of the bed, arms splayed wide from his body.

“Perfect,” he breathes, shedding his shirt as he slides down Nathaniel’s body.

Nathaniel’s lavender eyes slowly focus on Asher. He licks his lips as he watches, the scent of his own blood filling his nose. “Asher,” he moans, arching his hips. He has no patience when Asher works him like this, and he has no desire to learn any. Besides, he’s pretty sure Asher likes him impatient and eager, ready for anything and everything his vampire’s mind could conjure.

“Yes, petit?” Asher murmurs, his lips against Nathaniel’s stomach, moving only long enough for him to unfasten Nathaniel’s pants, pull them down and bare more of that delicious, creamy skin. He mouths the inside of Nathaniel’s thigh, one hand splayed against the inside of his knee, forcing Nathaniel to move his leg to the side, muscles trembling a little as Asher pushes and pulls, arranges Nathaniel to his satisfaction.

Again he litters pale skin with kisses, mouthing bitemarks new and old. “So very tempting,” he murmurs, eyes closed as he rubs his cheek against Nat’s thigh.

“I am?” Nathaniel breathes, his eyes never leaving Asher’s face. He takes in the slight flush his blood has given the usually marble-like face, the sharp, white teeth so near his vulnerable thigh. His cock strains upward, twitching as his heart races with just a touch of irrational, animal-like fear of a smaller predator in the clutches of a much larger one. Nathaniel flexes his thigh a little in Asher’s grip, ripping is muscles a little to entice Asher to give him a new marking tonight.

“You are impossible to resist,” Asher breathes, shifting higher, mouthing Nathaniel’s most intimate parts, pressing kisses to the base of his cock. His fangs are fully extended now, and he takes a moment to decide where to feed, before biting down at the very top of Nathaniel’s thigh, on the smooth, soft skin just beside the base of his cock. He knows Nathaniel will feel it for days, knows that he won’t be able to take a single step without being reminded of this, now.

Nathaniel shouts, his arms pulling at the cuffs, but they’re strong and don’t give under his strength. It’s a bright, stinging pain that dulls out quickly, makes him moan with the pleasure of it. A wet smear develops in his lower stomach, the tip of his shaft slippery with his excitement. He can’t remain still, though Asher’s hands keep him from making the wound large and unruly. He’s Asher’s pomme de sang, and it’s the best choice he’d ever made, no matter how pissed it had made Anita. These moments were worth the occasion uncomfortable silences with his Nimir Ra. “Asher!”

Asher drinks hungrily, losing himself in the taste, feel, smell of Nathaniel under him. He pins Nathaniel firmly, his eyes on his kitten’s face as he takes his fill. It’s with great reluctance that he pulls back, lips bared in a snarl, a single trickle of blood spilling down his chin to land on Nathaniel’s thigh.

He flows up the bed, crushing his lips against Nathaniel’s, lust clouding his mind. Urging Nathaniel’s knees up, apart, Asher thrusts against him, his hard cock pressing against Nathaniel’s entrance, slick with precum. He hasn’t prepared Nat, hasn’t slicked up his cock, and he’s almost mindless with need and pleasure, close to just pushing inside dry.

Nathaniel’s mouth is filled with the taste of Asher and blood. It doesn’t matter that it’s his own blood. The cat inside doesn’t care. It’s blood, and lavender eyes swirl, bleed into gray-blue as the cat peeks out, makes itself known in a small, needy growl and an undulation of its body. A dry fuck would hurt, that was certain, but between his own lycanthropy and the two marks he bears of Asher’s, he’d heal the damage within a day or so. But, usually, Asher doesn’t take him like that, careless of his kitten’s pleasure and comfort, and Nathaniel mewls softly into the kiss, eager, willing to take the pain if that’s what Asher wants for him tonight.

Asher watches as Nathaniel’s eyes change, entranced as always. He sucks his fingers into his mouth lewdly, his eyes never leaving Nathaniel’s face. He’s not quite in the mood for that kind of pain - he wants to pamper Nathaniel a little first. He twists his spit-slick fingers into Nathaniel, one by one, kissing Nathaniel deeply.

It feels like the perfect night. A lovely dinner, a movie, and now sex. Asher was, indeed, learning how to date, and it makes Nathaniel feel positively spoiled. He pushes down on Asher’s fingers, moaning low in his throat. It’s like Asher is smothering him with desire, as if the love and lust was something to bathe in, drink down. It’s wonderful and intoxicating, his lungs aching for air as he teases Asher’s teeth and gums, tastes him as deeply as he’s tasted, all while his body is stretched, made to burn all the hotter for his vampire with knowing touches.

Asher withdraws his fingers, breaking the kiss so that Nathaniel can draw a breath. He spits into his hand, a little inelegantly, slicking up his cock and pressing against Nathaniel’s body from head to toe, rocking slowly against him as the head of his cock eases inside.

“C’est parfait,” he murmurs. “jolie minou.” He strokes Nathaniel’s hair back from his face, tugging gently, his nails scraping the soft skin of Nathaniel’s scalp.

Nathaniel’s breath catches for a moment, and he shudders beneath Asher. His body is welcoming, relaxed and ready, and that tug and scrape of his hair and scalp pull a whine from him. He doesn’t push for faster or more. The slow filling of his body is intimate, and he revels in it. Nathaniel brushes his lips over Asher’s, his cat-like eyes unfocused as he gazes up at his vampire. He likes how much skin contact there is, how Asher touches him, fills him, and he savors every moment.

Asher deepens the kiss, biting at Nathaniel’s lip, thrusting slow and easy. He can take his time now, take Nathaniel apart piece by piece. He pushes inside, drinking in Nathaniel’s soft gasps, the flutter of pulse at his throat. His hand traces up the underside of Nathaniel’s arm, feeling muscles tighten as he tugs on his restraints. Sitting back, Asher pulls Nathaniel a little further down the bed, his lower body in Asher’s lap as he thrusts into his lover.

It’s like slowly having every layer--no matter how few there might be--of protection he’d put between himself and the world is slowly peeled away by Asher. His nakedness might be a physical thing at the moment, but as Asher takes him, touches him, pulls him tight in his own body, Nathaniel doesn’t feel truly naked until all those layers have been stripped away. He moves his hips as best he’s able, squeezing Asher internally each time he thrusts inward. Nathaniel, though bound, is anything but a passive lover, and he tries to give as much as he takes, his eyes never leaving Asher even as he loses his mind with the pleasure of their coupling.

“Do you want to come, mon chat?” Asher asks, his voice thick with pleasure as he moves his hips in a slow figure eight, leaning back far enough that Nathaniel has nothing to rub against, no source of relief for his aching cock. He reaches up with one hand, playing with Nathaniel’s nipple rings, tugging the left hard enough to hurt, twisting it easily in his fingers.

The silver through his nipple goes from the mild, irritated itching Nathaniel enjoyed to a sharp, almost blinding pain that does nothing to dampen his desperation. He tries to arch his hips, to bring his cock into contact with Asher’s warm skin again, but the way he’s positioned doesn’t allow him the closeness he needs. He loves how Asher plays with him, gives him everything he needs without a moment’s hesitation. That edge of dominance tempered with love, and it just makes Nathaniel wild. Nathaniel mewls, writhing in Asher’s lap, as he gasps as his cat-eyes focus sharply on Asher, “Yes! Please, Asher, yes...”

Asher smiles, the expression at once both light and innocent, and utterly wicked. He deftly avoids Nathaniel’s attempt to gain more stimulation, reaching up with both hands to twist his piercings cruelly, soothed a moment later as he leans forward enough to kiss one nipple, then the other, laving the reddened skin with his tongue.

“Good,” he croons softly. “You are so very good, mon chat.” He rewards Nathaniel with both words and touches, wrapping his hand around Nathaniel’s cock and stroking firmly. He wants Nat to come first, wants to fuck him when he’s boneless and pliant.

It’s only then that Nathaniel’s eyes slide closed, so he can better savor that tight hand around him. His hips move with Asher’s motions as much as he’s able, his sensuality and feline grace radiating in every movement. He mewls softly, his muscles tensing as he nears his release, and then his back bows and his toes curl as he yowls, shuddering almost violently against Asher, wetness spattering up his stomach. He collapses into a quivering, breathless mass, his eyes half open, staring up at Asher through ginger lashes.

Asher murmurs endearments in French, littering Nathaniel’s face with kisses as he thrusts into him, slowly, easily. He loves this, loves that restraining Nathaniel doesn’t have to be the start of an elaborate session between them, that he can satisfy Nat’s need for pain, and his own need to dominate Nathaniel, without it being anything more than lovemaking. It’s more than enough, for the two of them, and once again Asher counts himself lucky that he has Nathaniel in his life, his heart, his bed.

“Mon coeur,” he whispers, kissing Nathaniel’s throat as his thrusts lose their rhythm a little, Nat’s body still clenching around him. “Tu est parfait.” He groans loudly, shuddering as he spills deep within his cat, hands clenching tightly in auburn hair.

Nathaniel’s eyes slip closed, and he moans, nosing at Asher’s hair as he relishes those moments of true vulnerability. In their world, orgasm had become something dark and feared in the hands of men and women who only wanted to abuse them, but they’d taken it back. Nathaniel doesn’t fear being restrained now, as if Asher will bind him and force him to do something he doesn’t want to. He’s learned to trust in a way he hadn’t before, and as he lays there, reveling in the sated weight of his lover atop him, his purr rumbles thick and deep. “I love you,” he whispers, tugging lightly at the cuffs. He wants to touch Asher, to purr and lick and love his vampire.

Asher reaches up, blindly unfastening the cuffs, still kissing and nuzzling Nat, though it’s with rather less care and precision than only moments before. “And I you,” he replies softly, drawing Nathaniel’s wrists down to his mouth and kissing the soft skin over his pulsepoints delicately. He loves the aftermath, loves taking care of his lover and receiving the same care and attention in return.

His purr erupts into a loud, vibrating rumble as Nathaniel kisses and touches Asher. He smiles at his vampire, eyes lavender again, open and young and happy. His fingers trail over Asher’s cheek, over the smooth, beautiful skin, and he squirms a little, enjoying the wet feel of Asher inside him. These were the best moments by far. “I’m definitely buying some Godiva soon.”

Asher laughs, letting his gift free, making the sound a tangible thing, a slow caress down Nathaniel’s spine. “A good idea, I think,” he murmurs, shifting onto his side and pulling Nat into his arms. “Perhaps on a night when we have no other plans, hmmm?”

His hands glide over warm skin, a flush in pale skin that is partly due to Nathaniel’s blood, and partly due to sheer contentment. He wipes away drying blood, aware that they are beginning to stick to one another.

“But for now...a bath, mon chat?” he suggests.

Nathaniel nips at Asher’s chin, his skin itching where seed and blood is drying. “That depends,” he purrs. “Do I get to suck you off while you’re pretending to wash my hair?”

Asher pretends to think about it. “I am sure that we can come to some arrangement,” he purrs, laughing as he rises to his knees, still kissing Nathaniel as he slides off the bed. “Now, do I have to carry you, or do you think you can reach the bath by yourself?”

“If I say I can’t walk to the bath by myself, will you actually believe me?” Nathaniel asks with a grin.

“Not at all,” Asher wraps his arms around Nathaniel’s waist, dragging him towards the edge of the bed. “But just think of the delicious hot water that waits if you walk through that door,” he points out.

Nathaniel moans softly. The idea of a shower does sound amazing. “All right.” He rises from the bed and pulls Asher toward the bathroom door. “It has to be very hot water, though.”

“It will be.” Asher grins, sliding his arms around Nathaniel, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. He backs them slowly towards the door, fumbling for the handle, reluctant to tear his lips away from Nathaniel’s. He nudges Nathaniel’s hip with his, walking them through the door. It’s only when he feels rough wood under his feet rather than cold tile that he opens his eyes, breaks the kiss.

“Ah,” he murmurs, looking around at a rather crowded bar, wondering just how they’re going to get out of this one.

nathaniel, smut

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