He can't help it, it's been two months since it happened and Charlie still can't help tracing his fingers over and over the circular scar adorning Colby's shoulder every time they're in bed. It doesn't matter if Charlie's flat on his back, panting, moaning, writhing under Colby; or astride Colby's hips, his own hips working Colby's cock against his prostate until he's desperate to come. His fingers just keep tracing the healing skin.
Until Colby's hand strokes over his hair as he says, "It's okay, I'm here."
She’s spread out on the bed beneath him, eyes heavy and hooded, chest rising and falling shallowly, every exhalation a whimper. Her legs are spread and her hands reaching up for him. He chuckles softly as he presses them back to the mattress, then leans forward and kisses the pout from her lips. His knees rest either side of her thighs, his chest brushing over her breasts, he runs the very tips of his fingers over her face, sliding them between her lips, then pulling back and following the same path with his lips; his tongue sliding into her mouth, kissing her quickly before his fingers continue down her throat to her chest. He massages her breasts with both hands, thumbs teasing her nipples, making her gasp. And then he dips his head, the teasing continuing with his lips, teeth and tongue until she’s panting, arching her back, offering herself to him with a breathy moan of his name. He grins and releases her breasts, the palms of his hand sweeping over the curve of her belly, then down over her hips, brushing gentle over her folds to
( ... )
Nick's body gleams with sweat in the candlelight. His chest moves up and down as he breathes through the pain. The welts on his back ground him and send him soaring at the same time.
He feels free, the troubles from work, the knowledge of what people do to each other, pushed away for awhile.
The voice of his Mistress surrounds him like the most decadent fur, praising him, taking him past his limits until his safeword trembles on his tongue,still unspoken.
Then her hand is in his hair tugging his head back, while fingernails lightly scratch across his neck. He shudders and comes to the approving murmurs of "Good boy, my boy."
He kisses like he fights, hard and fast, teeth cutting into your lips and tongue taking your mouth easily. You give back as good as you get, shoving him back against the wall, smirking at the satisfying thump his head makes when it hits before you're on him again, fingers tangling in his dreads as you press your knee between his legs, grind down hard against his cock
( ... )
Jack knew. The first time he met the kid, he just knew. Everything about Daniel Jackson was trouble. From his pie in the sky ideas, leaving him behind, finding him again, saving the little space monkey over and over, Daniel was just trouble.
He became even more trouble when he cracked through every one of Jack's defenses. The small gestures of awkwardness, the passionate displays for what was right, his smooth voice speaking languages Jack had never dreamed of, the small smirks, the wide grins of pure joy, the shadow of pain that never faded away, it was in everything that Daniel did and would do. Trouble.
A quiet sigh broke into his thoughts. Daniel turned, sleep warm and pliant in Jack's arms, his thigh sliding between Jack's legs, his head heavy above Jack's heart.
Jack's hands curved possessively about Daniel's hip. Daniel was his trouble to deal with. No one else would dare try.
Comments 274
Reply
Until Colby's hand strokes over his hair as he says, "It's okay, I'm here."
Then Charlie comes.
Reply
Thank you!
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
He feels free, the troubles from work, the knowledge of what people do to each other, pushed away for awhile.
The voice of his Mistress surrounds him like the most decadent fur, praising him, taking him past his limits until his safeword trembles on his tongue,still unspoken.
Then her hand is in his hair tugging his head back, while fingernails lightly scratch across his neck. He shudders and comes to the approving murmurs of "Good boy, my boy."
Reply
Thank you!
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
He became even more trouble when he cracked through every one of Jack's defenses. The small gestures of awkwardness, the passionate displays for what was right, his smooth voice speaking languages Jack had never dreamed of, the small smirks, the wide grins of pure joy, the shadow of pain that never faded away, it was in everything that Daniel did and would do. Trouble.
A quiet sigh broke into his thoughts. Daniel turned, sleep warm and pliant in Jack's arms, his thigh sliding between Jack's legs, his head heavy above Jack's heart.
Jack's hands curved possessively about Daniel's hip. Daniel was his trouble to deal with. No one else would dare try.
Reply
his head heavy above Jack's heart.
*loves*
Reply
And now he's in his bed. *g*
Reply
Leave a comment