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Ride

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Laurent pulls against the restraints, wincing as the rope digs into his wrists. His ankles are similarly bound, tied in soft, red coils, and fastened to the bedposts, leaving him spreadeagled on the bed, unable to pull free if he tried. Utterly at the mercy of Damen. The thought sends shivers down his spine. The helplessness is intoxicating. Liberating.

Damen is sitting by his side, his weight dipping the bed towards him. He is tracing patterns over Laurent’s stomach, watching his face, watching his breathing. He enjoys this, Laurent knows. The rush of power from having someone bound at his mercy, the flood of arousal at the sight of Laurent spread and bound for him. Laurent knows how it feels.

“Enjoying yourself?” Laurent asks.

Damen smirks, cheeks dimpling. “Immensely.”

Laurent tries to close his legs, to at least pull his knees together and shield some of his groin from view, but his legs are spread too wide for that. Damen has unfettered access to his cock and to what lies beneath. The thought sends a burning chill straight through Laurent, pooling in his belly. His cock is hard, has been ever since Damen first started tying him down, and it aches for attention, for Damen’s mouth, his hands, anything.

“Touch me,” Laurent says.

“I am touching you.” Damen’s finger traces Laurent’s navel. Laurent gasps, skin so sensitive it almost hurts, muscles jumping under the touch.

Laurent scowls. “Damen.”

Damen laughs, dipping the tip of his finger inside. Laurent’s entire body jerks, pulling hard at the bonds, trying to twist away.

“Damen.”

Damen bends low, replacing his finger with his lips. The sensation of Damen’s kiss makes Laurent’s cock throb. Damen’s hand runs down Laurent’s side, fingernails scratching just light enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in his wake, teasing all the way down Laurent’s thigh and then slowly, slowly back up. As he presses another kiss to Laurent’s taut stomach, Damen trails a finger up the hard length of Laurent’s cock.

Laurent jerks again, legs instinctively trying to close at the unexpected, sharp sensation of it. He makes a low sound in his throat, and hides his face in his arm. Damen chuckles, and, as though just to torment Laurent, starts to trace the underside of Laurent’s cockhead with the delicate tip of a blunt nail.

It’s too much, almost painful, and Laurent writhes madly. “Damen!”

But he cannot stop Damen, cannot even twist away as Damen moves up the bed and climbs over him, sitting on his thighs and keeping him still. He bends low and kisses trails over Laurent’s chest, lips lingering over dusty pink nipples, laving his tongue over them when they harden under his attention. All the while he teases Laurent’s cock with the tip of a finger, a nail, occasionally dipping down to his balls, the skin there so sensitive it makes Laurent shiver at every touch.

It is a long time before Damen relents, finally, and instead palms Laurent’s cock, soothing the strange itch that lingers after his teasing touch. He thumbs the head of Laurent’s cock, digging his finger into the slit, pearly pre-come leaking out and wetting Damen’s hand.

“You like this.” Damen says. His fist closes around Laurent’s cock, stroking down to the base and then all the way back up, twisting around the head and tightening his grip. “You like being teased,” he chuckles. He meets Laurent’s eyes, his own sparkling with something mischievous. “Maybe I should keep you like this for hours.”

Laurent shivers, the threat making his cock throb, even though that isn’t what Laurent wants. Isn’t what they agreed upon. Laurent tries to buck Damen up off his legs, but Damen is as immovable as stone. “Damen,” Laurent growls. “Fuck me.”

Damen cups Laurent’s balls with one hand. The other strays lower, tracing down the crease of Laurent’s ass, pushing between the mounds of his cheeks. His finger presses heavily against Laurent’s entrance, dry, but Laurent hardly cares. He pushes himself up as much as he can, trying to give Damen more room to press inside.

“I don’t think so,” Damen says. “I had something else in mind.”

He gets off Laurent then, and reaches over to their bedside cabinet for the oil. Laurent stares after him, confused. He had, of course, assumed Damen wanted to tie him down to fuck him, he couldn’t imagine what other thing Damen would have intended to do with him.

Damen climbs back over him, sitting a little higher up on Laurent’s thighs this time. He smirks down at Laurent, pops open the cork on the bottle, and pours a healthy dollop onto his hands. He warms it between his fingers, and Laurent thinks he means to take Laurent’s cock in hand. Laurent tries not to feel disappointed, that after all this buildup Damen only means to finish him with his hand. He keeps his face neutral and watches as Damen begins to reach down.

Except, Damen is not reaching for Laurent’s cock. He twists his body, hand coming down behind himself, and begins to push his fingers inside his own ass. Laurent’s mouth falls open.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Damen says, his brow creasing at the sensation of pushing a finger inside, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ve been thinking about how your cock would feel inside me.” Laurent watches the movement of Damen’s arm, the pump of his finger in and out. “I’ve been… practicing.”

Laurent shudders and closes his eyes, imagining it– Damen lying on his back, knees bent and legs spread wide, reaching between his thighs and spreading oil around his hole, tentatively dipping the tip of his finger inside, frowning at the foreign sensation, biting his lip at the sting of the first stretch.

Laurent feels robbed, that he was denied the chance to witness it, that he was not the first to breach Damen’s hole. He bucks his hips up hard, catching Damen distracted and managing to jostle him forward, enough that Laurent’s cock rubs up between his thighs now.

“Next time you’re in the mood to fuck yourself on your fingers,” Laurent says, grinding his hips up hard, “you will inform me first.”

Damen’s eyes open, pupils blown wide. He must have pushed a second finger inside himself because he growls low in his throat, jaw clenching tight. “Wanted to surprise you,” he grits out. “Wanted to– ah– ride you.”

Laurent feels oil drip down from Damen’s fingers onto his cock. He grinds up into it, rubbing the wet mess between Damen’s cheeks, smearing his thighs. “Then what are you waiting for,” he says. “Ride me.”

Damen removes his fingers, wincing at the sensation of emptiness. He opens the bottle of oil again, pouring more on his hands before he reaches behind himself and takes a hold of Laurent’s cock. Laurent hisses, hips jerking up into the touch. Damen strokes him once, twice, enough to spread all the oil around, to make Laurent slick enough for what comes next.

Damen adjusts himself, moving upwards, raising himself to his knees. He holds Laurent’s cock and angles it up, before lowering himself down. He grinds against it first, rubbing it between his cheeks, making soft sounds when it catches on his hole. Laurent forces his eyes to stay open when they flutter at the sensation. His breath comes hard and heavy, his whole face feels flushed as he watches Damen grind down on his cock like a desperate pet. It’s the most arousing thing he’s ever seen.

“Cock tease,” Laurent taunts.

Damen smirks down at him, eyes hooded. He presses one hand to Lauren’t chest, balancing himself as finally, finally, he begins to sink down.

His body opens almost reluctantly for Laurent’s cock, muscles forced to stretch farther than they ever have before. Damen is so hot inside, so tight, so wet from the oil. Laurent bites his lip hard to stop himself from coming, even just the head of his cock inside Damen’s hole is almost too much.

Laurent has never done this before, never had his cock inside a tight, warm hole, never fucked another in place of being fucked himself. He would be lying to say he had never thought about it, but everything he had ever imagined falls so impossibly short. Being inside Damen, Laurent’s own cock pushing into his lovers body, was perfect. It feels better than it had any right to, so good he feels his face contort in ecstasy, brow furrowing and nose wrinkling, his mouth falling open soundlessly. His breath catches in his chest, he can't move, he feels paralysed. He an only lie there, bound, as Damen takes him inside his body.

“Fuck,” Damen growls. “Fuck, Laurent.”

Laurent’s eyes fly open, desperate to watch, desperate to see Damen impaled on his cock. Damen grunts, breathing hard, eyes screwing shut. The stretch is painful at first, Laurent knows. He winces in sympathy, but it is hard to feel sorry when Damen’s body feels like this. He wants to soothe Damen, to run his hands down his sides and comfort him with gentle kisses, but Laurent can do nothing. Nothing but watch, as Damen steels his resolve and seats himself on Laurent’s cock with a cry, curling forward and pressing his face to Laurent’s chest. Laurent can feel him trembling.

“Fuck,” Laurent gasps. He is tensing against his bonds, trying so hard to reach for Damen, barely restraining himself from bucking upwards and fucking himself in hard and deep. “You’re so tight.”

Damen groans, large hands smoothing over Laurent’s chest, fingertips tracing over Laurent’s pebbled nipples. “You’re so big,” he moans, his voice almost breaking with each shaky breath.

Laurent preens at that. Smug, he tries to move his hips, pushing up just a little, as much as he can in his bonds, to try and fuck himself inside Damen. Damen chuckles. He sits back a little, groaning low as it changes the angle of the penetration. His brow is creased, little lines etched into his skin. Laurent wants to kiss each and every one, wants to distract Damen from the discomfort, to show him the tenderness he has always been shown, to give him the pleasure Damen has always given him.

“Untie me,” Laurent says.

Damen cracks a lid, looking down at Laurent, somehow managing to look unimpressed, even like this. “But that’s not part of the game.”

He doesn’t give Laurent a chance to respond. All at once he starts to move, rocking back and forth in slow, gentle increments, letting himself get used to the stretch. Laurent grunts, his cock is being massaged and squeezed by Damen’s hole with every gyration, and it feels like heaven. He throws his head back, his thighs shaking, desperate to fuck up but with no leverage to do so.

“Love the way you look,” Damen says. “I love seeing you like this. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

He starts to lift himself up, moving his hips in a circular motion now. Laurent cries out, the sensation of it so good he can scarcely think. The world narrows down to the wet, hot slide of his cock inside Damen, to the wet, slick sounds they make as their bodies connect. Damen makes the sweetest moans, softer and more breathier than the usual grunts of his exertion. It sounds perfect.

He will never be able to get the sight of this out of his mind, would never want to. Damen is like a god above him, all rippling muscle and sweat slick skin, his eyes fluttering as he fucks Laurent’s cock against his pleasure spot, his curls bouncing as he picks up the pace.

Once the pleasure overrides the pain of the stretch, Damen doesn’t hold back. He bounces on Laurent’s cock like a horny pet, uncaring of the obscene sounds they make. He chases his own pleasure, using Laurent to that purpose, and Laurent can only lay there, tugging fruitlessly against his bonds, and feel.

Perhaps embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for Laurent to come. The pleasure is too much, the sight of Damen too much. He crests with a shout, curling forward as much as he can, keening as he empties himself inside Damen’s body. Damen stills, letting Laurent jerk and spasm underneath him as he finishes his pleasure. He watches, eyes hooded. His hand runs down his body to take a hold of himself, stroking as he watches Laurent come apart.

Laurent is sensitive after orgasm, and being still encased inside Damen is almost too much. He winces, whines a little, to his embarrassment, and tries to pull away. Damen finally climbs off him, Laurent, now soft, sliding out of his body with a wet pop. The mess of tacky oil on Laurent’s sensitive cock is a somewhat unpleasant sensation, but Laurent bears it for now, far too busy on watching Damen as he kneels on the bed beside him, still fisting his cock in his hand.

“Come for me,” Laurent says, voice rasping. “Come on my face.”

Damen groans. He moves closer, close enough that Laurent could probably lean up and take him in his mouth if he wanted, but he wants to feel Damen’s come on his face, wants to feel it dripping down his cheeks and painting his skin white. He closes his eyes, knowing that Damen is close, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. The first glob of Damen’s come hits him on his cheek. He feels it run down, a quickly cooling trail, and when it is close enough his tongue darts out and licks it into his mouth.

Damen curses, still fisting his cock furiously, milking himself of everything he has just to spend it on Laurent’s skin. The sight of it is obscene, and Damen’s cock gives a half-hearted twitch.

He collects what he can with his thumb, clearing Laurent’s eyes and collecting a glob that was running down his forehead. He means to wipe it off on the sheets, but Laurent opens his eyes and sticks out his tongue. He looks at Damen, blue eyes burning, his meaning clear. Damen sticks his thumb into Laurent’s mouth, and lets him lick it clean.

Damen wishes he were younger. In times past, that alone would be enough to get him rearing for a second round.

“Fuck Laurent,” he says, hoarse, as he collapses to the bed beside him. His back aches and his thighs burn, and his ass feels worse for wear, but bliss makes him smile sleepily. He curls into Laurent's still bound body, resting his face on Laurent’s heaving chest. “That was… That was better than I could have…”

“Indeed,” Laurent says. “Next time I fuck you, I’m going to tie you down instead.”