marlowemuses | This will be happily ever after...

Attuned as he was this time to Laurent's reactions, Damen allowed him to take things at Laurent's pace, rather than his own. He remained still and patient while Laurent moved into his lap, a quiet sigh of - contentment? yearning? - for the pleasure of the weight of him there.

His eyes fell to the pearly white line of teeth biting into the flesh of tempting lip. Was Laurent trying to drive him to madness with temptation? Damen breathed in, deliberately, deeply. "Kisses," he said, as if reminding himself, as if reminding Laurent of what he'd asked Damen for; those were the terms they'd agreed to for the moment, and he would abide by them.

He cupped Laurent's face in one big hand, fingertips curling behind his head, and drew him in. His mouth moved softly, as gently as before, slowly exploring the canvas of bottom lip, slowly wooing. All of his attention was on Laurent. What did Laurent like about their kissing? What made him breathe heavier, shift towards Damen, make a sound?

Laurent sighed at the gentle kisses, letting himself become lost in the pleasure of Damen's mouth against his own. He yielded more and more to Damen's lead, parting his lips in invitation.

Yearning for him, Laurent's arms tightened around Damen's neck, pressing close to him as the pleasure and lust of the kisses lowered his resistance and increased his greed and hunger for Damen, his Damen, his husband.

The more Laurent responded to those soft kisses, the softer Damen's lips became against his. They made love to Laurent, tender and attentive; he could have pressed for more, but he didn't. Even the part of lips became another chance to coax rather than to plunder. Damen found he enjoyed drawing out Laurent's responses, making him flush and yield and lean into the twine of their mouths and bodies. It was better this way, when Laurent undeniably wanted it.

A hushed sound groaned in Damen's throat. He spread his hands over Laurent's shoulder, the back of his head, curling his fingers there. He had mastery of himself, his mind, his touches; but one part was impossible to master. He nudged at Laurent's chin, tipped his forehead against his husband's. "I...don't know what to ask for," he breathed. "Help me."

Laurent laughed very softly--not mocking, just with warm, shared humor at their situation. "Me? You're the experienced one here."

Laurent kissed the tip of Damen's nose, soft and playful. "What do you want to do with me? Make a suggestion, an offer. I don't know what you're willing to do. I don't know what sort of thing I like."

"But you're the one I want to please," Damen said, completely naked in his honesty. It didn't matter that he had more experience at any of this; if anything, it was just a detriment to how easily he could and had driven Laurent away with his too-hungry need.

"What I want with you," Damen admitted, "is to touch you bit by bit. Find the things you like. Explore you with my hands...my mouth, if you will let me..."

He wasn't like Laurent; his negotiations weren't smooth and veiled and subtle, obliquely couched in pretty words. What he lacked in finesse, he made up for in earnestness, in complete devotion to Laurent's pleasure, his dark eyes burning with it.

Smile widening as he watched Damen's face, Laurent brushed the tip of his nose against Damen's, playful and happy. "I'd like to try that."

He still felt nervous, but he liked the idea of Damen exploring him and finding out what he liked.

Offering up one of his wrists, Laurent watched Damen's eyes, guarded and nervous. Trust was difficult, but he yearned for Damen, and thought that Damen might just be worth it. "My king."

He could feel Laurent deliberately offering up himself, in spite of the way he watched Damen like a hawk. Such trust was a precious thing. Damen was more aware, now, of just how precious.

He plucked at the laces, but instead of simply turning to the other sleeve when the first one was loosened, Damen slid the silky fabric up. Pale skin seemed to gleam more suggestively from the billows of the sleeve than it had when Laurent was disrobed. He cradled his lover's wrist in one hand, raised it to his lips, let his breath trace over the pulse at the base of thumb and hand. It beat a vulnerable rhythm, full of life and heat. Damen kissed its thrumming stream beneath the delicate skin.

Laurent's breath hitched, attention riveted to Damen's lips, Damen's hand, Damen's breath against his skin.

His fingers trembled slightly, curling toward his palm and then extending, while he took great care to keep his arm still, not wanting to interrupt a single moment of this. Gaze caught on Damen's lips, entranced, Laurent let his free hand fall to the front of Damen's chiton, curling around the fabric and holding possessively.

His pulse fluttered in his throat and his wrist, heart pounding with the intensity of his emotions.

Experimentally, Damen parted his lips in an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Laurent's wrist. He could feel the hitch of the pulse beneath, the wild flutter of the blood coursing through, and his own leapt in kind at the effect he had on Laurent, and then again as he was caught in the clutch of Laurent's hand taking hold of him.

Damen's fingers hooked beneath the silk sleeve and slowly dragged it up Laurent's forearm, squirming in the gap of the laces, against his skin, Lips followed, warm and measured. He tasted the faint salt of Laurent's skin from sleep, the natural scent of his body, and his head swam, imagining that taste on even more intimate parts of Laurent. His mouth found the crook of elbow where the skin was thinnest, where another pulse beat, and he nuzzled there too.

"Ah," Laurent gasped, amazed that such simple, light touches could have his head swimming and his heart fluttering.

His hand slid up Damen's chest, curling around the back of his head so that he could wind his hand into Damen's hair, pulling him a little closer and encouraging him to continue.

Soft little gasps and whimpers escaped him every so often, cheeks flushed with fascination and arousal.

Amazing, and enlightening, how little it took to ignite Laurent's senses, when too much only set him blowing up in Damen's face. The sounds of his gasps, the inhaled breaths, the tugs of his fingers, each came as a new confirmation of how beautifully sensitive Laurent could be, even how pleasurable those reactions could be for Damen.

The sleeve would go no further, and so Damen left it for now to tug loose its twin, and then to give the other wrist the same treatment, a slow application of lips and fingers, collecting all that he could from Laurent, enjoying him to the fullest.

When he finally reached for the simple neck laces, the gesture had leisure to it, as it never had before. He found his way back to Laurent's mouth as he enticed the strings to give way for him, little by little. Just like Laurent, they did.

Damen's fingers slid beneath the fabric at the back of Laurent's neck. "I'm glad I asked. I would be sorry to miss all this." If his pride and foolishness had left him too stubborn to try it Laurent's way...turned out, it was a very satisfactory way.

Laurent's stifled little noises came a little freer as Damen continued, kiss by kiss. He gave his other wrist willingly, curling his bare arm around Damen's neck again so that they wouldn't have to part. Each soft touch entranced him, dissolving his objections and doubts.

He shivered as Damen's touches moved to his throat, lashes fluttering. Leaning back just slightly, he lifted his chin to give Damen free access, tilting his neck to offer more of himself.

Laurent had known that his skin was sensitive, and that his throat was vulnerable, but he'd never known how much. Moaning softly as Damen's hand curled around his neck, Laurent leaned forward, muffling the rest of his moan with a kiss. He shuddered against Damen, fingers curling possessively around one of the clasps of Damen's garment, too distracted to ask to release it as he sought out Damen's mouth for kiss after kiss.

The longing he felt as Laurent gave him access to himself simply didn't compare to the lust he'd felt before. Damen could experience this desire, could acknowledge it, could even burn with it silently from the moans of the beautiful man in his lap, but this longing found its quench and renewal in lavishing Laurent with the kinds of touches he liked.

He felt the grip of Laurent's hand on the single brooch that held his garment up by one shoulder. Heard the unspoken question there. "Yes," he said, and reclaimed Laurent's mouth. That much, at least, Damen let himself claim. Who else could kiss Laurent this way? No one, he said in his kiss. Only Damen.

Inch by inch, he mapped out the contours of Laurent's neck, light swathes down the back of it, his fingers indescribably gentle and slow-moving as he swept around the side of it, the long pale front, laces tugged loose and deep to expose more of it. Damen let his kisses fall to Laurent's chin, the line of his jaw, the space just underneath it. He kissed that pulsepoint too. Slowly, his lips worshipped the soft vulnerable flesh there, tracing down the column of Laurent's throat.

Laurent plucked at the clasp, tearing the fabric slightly in his impatience. He pressed close against Damen, rocking his hips with instinct and need as they kissed. Laurent's nerves turned into yearning as his hands skimmed over the broad, strong chest of his husband.

"Damen," he whimpered, the name like a plea as Damen explored his throat. "Go on. Mark me."

It was only fair, after all, though Laurent's pale skin would show off any mark vividly compared to the ones he'd left on Damen, but he had his high collars as defense.

His hands returned to Damen's hair, trailing laces over his shoulders as Laurent's fingers locked around Damen's curls, cradling his head with possessive reverence.

The skimpy fabric fell away from Damen's chest, leaving him bare to the satisfying mercies of his husband's greedy touches. A low thrum curled inside him from the first movement of Laurent's hips against his own. It found voice in his throat, the shape of a groan hidden against Laurent's skin. His body cried out for more contact. He would not let himself press up, fearing the too-bold and un-asked for contact of his hardness against Laurent's groin would startle his shy husband away. The denial strained at his thigh muscles beneath the weight of the other man's body.

Mark me. Unthinking, Damen growled, low and needy. He could still feel the points on his own neck where Laurent had bitten him. He could already envision Laurent wearing his mark under those tightly laced collars. Untouched, his cock gave a furtive throb.

Damen's lips found the nearest mark. He suckled gently at first, tugging wetly at the skin, slowly wooing more of the flesh beneath into his mouth. But he wanted to the red to bloom across Laurent's porcelain skin, and so he made a seal and drank deeply of the taste of him. His tongue flicked through parted lips to bathe the tortured hollow in soothing licks. Something welled in his chest, fierce and sated, at leaving something of himself on Laurent, by his husband's request no less.

Laurent cried out, not expecting how exquisitely erotic it would feel to be marked like that. He writhed in Damen's arms, quivering with aftershocks from it even once Damen had finished with that mark.

Needing a moment to recover, Laurent pressed his forehead against the side of Damen's neck, clinging to him and shivering lightly with all the emotional and physical sensations. "Damen," he murmured again, breath evening momentarily. "I'd like you to do that again when you're inside me," he said, then grinned and blushed at his own boldness.

That cry shot arrow-like down Damen's spine, pooling at the base of it where his body clenched in pleasure. Yes. Laurent was exquisite in his undoing, all from just a single mark. How might he fall apart with Damen making him fully his own?

He cradled Laurent to himself. He too was glad for a moment to breathe, and to admire the deep crimson bloom glowing on Laurent's neck. Damen's arms tucked all around Laurent's body while his hand stroked the bright golden hair. The morning light picked up glimmers of different colors in the strands, yellow and platinum and honey and wheat.

Damen gave a satisfied grunt. No need to reveal to Laurent how hard that confession made him. "I'd like to do that again and feel you come," Damen said, frank and low in Laurent's ear. In Akielon, one would usually couch such things in pleasing euphemisms, but he wanted no mistake in what he wanted to do with Laurent.

Laurent smiled, sweet and rich as honey, and kissed the side of Damen's throat. "Then I guess you'd better make some progress in undressing me," he teased, straightening up and giving Damen a heated, inviting smile. He lifted his arms to let Damen pull the shirt over his head, now that they had released enough of the laces.

He felt exposed again, but the warmth of Damen's affection made him feel safe. They were establishing new boundaries, finding out what made them both comfortable, and what pleasure they could share.

He couldn't help but be aware of Damen's condition, since his wardrobe did so little to hide it. He resisted the urge to tease that it was a permanent condition for Akielon men, not yet wanting to draw direct attention to it. His own erection strained at the silky fabric of his pajama pants, deeply interested in their activities.

Damen's confidence was returning as he began, very slowly, to understand what made Laurent tick. His sense of achievement soared to see Laurent openly inviting him to disrobe him; his heart turned a strange aching somersault inside his chest at the smile Laurent gave him.

Carefully, he disentangled his lover's upper half from the silky shirt. He'd been glad of the covering when his amorous attentions were put on hold; now, he looked his fill, his gaze caressing the beautiful planes of Laurent's torso.

"I believe there's a Veretian term for the experience of reliving a particular memory," Damen said. His thumb traced the elegant line of a collarbone. "Deja vu?" A recent memory at that. They had been bare-chested all last night and this morning, but this time, the stakes were all different. He still hesitated to move too quickly, to lose all that they had gained thus far.

"Let's hope this memory has a different ending," Laurent said, lifting his chin to give Damen better access to his throat and collarbones. "Did you leave a mark?" he asked, preening a little at being admired like this. He trusted now that Damen would do nothing without confirming his comfort and consent, which made it easier to relax and enjoy this. "How does it look?"

Damen's eye was drawn inexorably to the unmistakeable shape of where his lips had sealed to Laurent's neck, the dark bloom of it standing out far more on him than it had on Damen. It was...a rousing sight. And Laurent seemed to glow with pride at offering him that sight.

Damen brushed his lips across it, reverently. "Repeatable." Not yet. Not until they were fully joined and he had Laurent on the cusp, trembling and taut beneath him. But soon. He ached for its fulfillment.

The languor of his kisses across Laurent's throat, his hands across Laurent's chest, did not betray him, even if his lap certainly did. He tasted slowly, savoring. He didn't need to rush this.

"What ending are you hoping for this one?"

Laurent's jaw tensed at the question, eyes dropping and then flicking up to Damen's face, letting him see the nervous tension that he felt at that question rather than the casual insouciance he usually preferred as a defense.

"Hope is a useless sentiment," he said instead, fingers curling tentatively around the bend of Damen's neck and shoulder. His grip was a little too tight. "Hope is for those who have no power to take action to achieve their goals."

Laurent didn't want to get into a philosophical argument, although he was far too mule-headed and opinionated to back away from one. He wanted to be distracted.

The word had touched a nerve in Laurent, though Damen didn't know why. He felt and then saw that tension spread over Laurent's body. Instead of going on the defensive, Damen tried soothing away the fraught reaction with hands that stroked at Laurent's shoulders. He nuzzled at the curve of a clavicle. "I would rather act than hope, Laurent." It was something he tucked away for later, something he didn't want to distress Laurent with right now by questioning him, but his curiosity and concern were both piqued.

Damen slid upwards for a moment. His lips made a soft imprint on Laurent's, coaxing him back to presentness, to relax with something familiar and good; the warm taste of Damen's mouth, the close embrace of his arms wrapping around, the brush of dark hair against Laurent's cheek. He held this for longer than he'd planned to, enjoying the simple intimacy of it.

He touched Laurent's shoulders. "Lay back for me?" He would not normally frame it as a question, but Laurent's wishes were too important to him to risk the return of trepidation with anything like an order.

The sweetness of the kiss helped immediately. Laurent's eyes closed, relaxing into the kiss and letting Damen lead him. His arms curled fully around Damen's shoulders, wanting to remain close to him.

Nodding warily at the question, Laurent slid off of his lap, settling back onto his elbows. He watched Damen through hooded eyes, immediately nervous and tense again and trying desperately to fight off the nerves. He hated being on unknown terrain, of being vulnerable and not in immediate control of any situation, and it was a struggle to yield to Damen, when their past encounters had often ended poorly.

Damen was almost sorry that all of the beneficial effects of their kisses were instantly reversed by his request. But their respective heights and positions meant exploring Laurent any further while in his lap would be nearly impossible anyways. He would just have to un-tense Laurent all over again.

He hovered over him, another kiss bestowed on Laurent's mouth, as a sort of peace offering or reward for his yielding. He stroked a wayward lock of blond hair back. "So that I may taste more of you," he explained. "Is that all right?"

It was true, their amorous encounters had more often than not ended in disaster, but this morning was different, Damen thought. He kept his gaze on Laurent's face as he bent to touch his lips below the line of collarbone, over a swath of pectoral. More, only if Laurent wished him to.

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