Digging heels into the mattress for sweet, precious leverage, Jon rose and fell beneath, inside his captor best as bonds allowed. Scant inches, really, not quite the energetic, balls-out shagging either had envisioned as Robb first climbed aboard but a slower, smoother journey from here to blissful abandon; bodies rocking joined groin to arse and tongue to tongue. A kinkier, wicked adaptation of tantric lotus that had lads chasing fire in their bellies with growing desperation as a thin sheen of sweat beaded across foreheads and chests, in the crook of necks and the warm, dampened areas where freckled thighs framed Jon’s ribs.
He could feel boyfriend’s prick too, heavy and loaded, bobbing between as instinct latched its poisonous fangs onto their actions; salivation a Pavlovian response to its wet tap-and-bump but they couldn’t have it all. Not at once. Couldn’t snog and sensually rut and swallow briny rivers a physical impossibility no matter how much Jon gravely keened at the vision; desired to give himself over completely to the man breathing in hot, staggered puffs against his right ear.
And even if the laws of physics bent for a single hour of a single day across the vastness of time and space to allow such a miracle take place, he wouldn’t partake.
Novelty act nudging high wire performers a little too far off balance already, the slightest twitch might send either tumbling; subsequent, miniscule tremors along the rope toppling second partner after the first.
Not yet... Please, not yet.
So instead of wrapping strongest fingers round juicy prize, Jon’s hand stayed anchored; heel of thumb pressing into the dip of lower spine right where it began sloping downward, thumb rubbing soothing paths back and forth as all the strength in gladiatorial arm was used to press hips together. Closer and deeper and tighter, till there was no separation.
It’s never enough, came desperate thought, nose rooting in curls base of Robb’s neck. Clinging, best a splayed man could to his grounding presence and the strange, displaced scent of lye and sandalwood.
“I’ll want you, Robb - crave this, us - till the day I die.” This vow, I swear, by the old gods and the new.