(( OOC: I have permission for the slight god modes in this post. ))

“Yes.” He answered him solidly, but not unkindly. If anything he was proud in a way that he’d managed to touch him back, even if it was just to grip his wrist. Kuval’s leg stretched out and he moved his fingers away from him to grip his thigh. He wanted that stretch out to remain, and if anything he pulled him down the door slightly from it. All the while his fingers kept that gentle but firm grip on his thigh. He unfolded his own legs from under himself, shifting them so that his knees were on either side of his hips against the floor. Only then did he let his thigh go, resting his forearm against the wood of the door so that his head could hang and look down at him.

From this position he seemed so vulnerable, so meek in comparison to the calm faced individual he’d grown to know. Where was the man that had shaken three others from their mortal coils? Wherever he was, he was enjoying this more sexually innocent counterpart. Despite his slight hunch, he stayed risen up on his knees; his fingers curling into a fist against the door. He wasn’t used to using so much restraint, but in the back of his head he remembered what he was: a creature from the sea, one of the few he’d show any respect towards during such actions. It would only restrain him for so long though, and he moved his hand up from the floor; turning it to grip Kuval’s wrist and pull his hand up into his own dark hair,

“This is one of the extremely rare scenarios where I’d ever allow someone to touch me…” His eyes hardened, his jaw locked, all in an attempt to keep from doing too much, “So touch me.” Trusting Kuval not to move his hand away from his hair, he slid his own fingers down his forearm; felt along his elbow and up the contours that made up the muscular frame of his upper arm and shoulder. The water he’d taken from the spigot all but dried from the spread along his skin, and that trace ended at a gentle grip against the side of his neck.

His thumb gently pressed up his throat, along the soft rise of his Adam’s apple. All the way until he was able to force his head to tip back with the urge of his thumb against the underside of his chin. What strands of his hair were left loose, hung around their faces as his eyes narrowed. The muscles in his legs grew more stiff, as did those of his arms, knowing one thing that would usually incite one of two things: calm and ease, or a nudge into action. Either way, he lowered his head the rest of the way and pressed his lips against Kuval’s. His eyes closed from the taste of salt, longing more for that taste as he slowly parted the other’s lips with his own.

Everything was moving slowly, teasingly, and yet the intensity of such simple acts felt like they were coming at him with lightning speed. Kuval’s eyes opened again fully as he was pulled down more against the door, moving quickly up to find Dorian’s again. He felt disoriented, leaned completely back with his shoulders against the door and his back curved with no support between himself and the floor… and yet everything still felt inviting, eagerly calling his name.

At the other’s urging, he shifted his fingers into the dark locks above him, watching as the worn digits were lost. He could feel the sea lingering there and he gripped tighter to keep them both in his grasp. His other hand slid up the witch’s forearm, gripping near his elbow as he traced his eyes down to see those long legs positioned over him.

He gazed at what he could see of their bodies, slowly intertwining with each other, and he longed to touch more. The impulses were rising, to grip him, to pull him, to press his lips to the places he wasn’t sure lips should go. He wanted to trace the dark marks on his skin, wondered what they felt like when the light was there. He wanted to grip his hips and feel the heat of his length against his own. Wanted… Wanted everything, but his attention was brought abruptly back from its rapid fire suggesting by the tip back of his head.

Kuval’s eyes traveled up obediently. The darkness of them seemed alive through his half lidded eyes, eagerly asking what to do next. Asking to be saved from the onslaught of ideas he didn’t know how to follow. He swallowed hard against the press against his Adam’s apple, feeling it struggle past Dorian’s thumb and down again to return to his touch. His lips parted in attempt to find more air, but instead… instead were met with the press of anothers’ lips.

A small startled sound escaped, bouncing between their connection before fading away into the silence of the room. Kuval arched upward, trying to urge them closer still. The fingers of both hands tightened before one left his elbow and found its way to the witch’s back, trying to pull him closer from there.

(( OOC: For this thread, god moding is permitted by both parties. ))

His chest rose and fell slowly as Kuval’s fingers moved up his arm, around to his back. It was different, having someone trace and feel over where his marks laid dormant. Normally there’d be a reaction, but due to the lack of power from the dead zone, all that was there was the very human sensation of being touched by another. Goosebumps rose along his flesh and he leaned towards him with that pull against his back. As he did so, his hand shifted from his neck to his shoulder, gripping there firmly as he fluidly pulled and turned him so that the other man was fully on his back beneath him. His knees were careful in that movement; both of them shifting near painfully against the aged wood as he turned with him.

They widened still, a few unpolished splinters scratching against his kneecaps as they slid apart enough from him to lower down over him. His other hand came down hard against the wood, near slamming next to Kuval’s head where his fingers audibly curled against the floor boards. The tip of his tongue moved along the soft flesh at the underside of his top lip. His eyes closed tighter as he thought of other places he wanted to move his tongue, his lips. Places to bite and hear the indistinguishable merge of pain and pleasure.

His lips pulled back from his, his own shaky breathing intermingling with his before biting the other’s bottom lip until he tasted the metallic pin prick of blood. It mixed with the salt of his lips and he softly sucked there as he moved a hand to his chest. Through his softer, more malleable human flesh, he could feel his heart beating through his ribs and relished in the trill. There was nothing so intoxicating as your first realized allowance of lust, and he couldn’t drink it in enough.

The tips of his fingers pressed against his chest, sliding down along his stomach, over to his hip where his nails lightly bit into flesh as he parted his legs. The nail of his thumb slowly scratched along the skin there before moving his fingers up to find him. His skin was soft despite the stiffness, and he slowly wrapped each finger with an almost too tight grip. From that alone he could feel his pulse, and he began to work him between his fingers as his lips made their way down his throat.

“Your hips…move them…” Despite the quiet timbre of his voice, it was not a suggestion but a light command. He wanted to feel him, feel that removal of restraint, the physical proof of his lust. And, as if to put a period on that statement, he turned his head and bit at the hollow of his throat.

Kuval’s hand left the man’s back as they turned, slapping against the hardwood for support as he felt himself being lower to the ground. Despite the disorienting feeling, his attention was transfixed on their pressed lips. His fingers twisted gently in the lightly matted locks of hair, trying to keep them pressed for as long as he could.

Even the smallest touches felt overpowering. Smooth trail of the other’s tongue, the whisper of his breath on desperate skin, the quick pain of the bite that forced a startled sound over a now bleeding lip. His eyes opened, trying to look at the man above him and finding only the raven hair and the arched wooden beams of the inn further above.

The lean curve of his body arched against the floor at the trace, feeling his own heart rise to the touch. Quickly Kuval retrieved his hand from the floor and found the witch’s hip, gripping there before sliding up his back with lightly shaking fingers.

But then Dorian’s hand was moving again, exploring parts of him that no one else had touched yet. As nails traced his skin, pulled him to vulnerability, Kuval finally gave up the view and instead let his head rest against the floor as his own hand pressed against the other’s shoulder to hold him close.

Then that hand was touching him, unseen fingers wrapping tight enough to elicit a soft wince and curled fingers that found home in Dorian’s back. He didn’t need the command as his feet tried to find enough purchase to allow his hips to push forward longingly into the working hand, but it wasn’t just his hips. His whole body moved with the action, rolling shoulders to lower back to hips to legs as fluidly as he curved himself in the ocean.

“A-Ah…”

The sound left quickly as the bite found his neck. It was almost too much all at once. His head was starting to feel light, overwhelmed, and yet he couldn’t imagine stopping. Somewhere, unspoken in the back of his mind, a plea was desperately forming.

He felt the soft call of pleasure reverberate through his throat, against his lips, and lightly sucked there before continuing the downward drift. His breathing grew shakier by the time he was at his chest, yearning to feel the full flow of his body as it moved with his fingers. As his lips dragged down his chest, he brought his hand from the floor and gripped too tightly into his hair; forcing his head to tilt back sharply. His lips pressed against his skin, allowing the tip of his tongue to taste over his belly button. The soft taste of soap lingered on his skin, he had washed, but he could still taste the touch of the ocean on him.

For just a moment he imagined how this might have been should they instead be on the shore, their scents weaving with the salty richness of Nyella. Even just that soft moan he’d heard from a simple bite was enough to cause his mind to imagine it being interspersed with crashing waves. This would happen again, and not within the walls of a dead inn where their potential was subdued. His fingers shifted around him, lightly pausing at the base of him as he lifted his lips up from his stomach.

The edges of his hair brushed against his sides, his abdomen, and he slowly ran his tongue along the head of him before letting his lips softly suck down. Soft flesh was pulled taut from lust, so much so that he wondered how long he’d be able to contain himself past his lips. Even so, he longed to feel the writhe and shift of building pleasure, needed that pulse between his lips. He moved his lips down, slowly pressing his tongue against the underside of him until he felt that soft push at the back of his throat. His fingers gripped tighter in his hair, enough to pull strands from their roots if it meant keeping his head forced back.

He wanted him to memorize this feeling, commit the pleasure his lips and touch could bring him down to the very core of his being. That was something accomplished even deeper when sight was taken away. Despite himself, a gentle sound of his own played against the length of him as he began to slowly move his lips. He would feel that release, know that connection that somehow held a different layer of magick and power that even he had yet to fully tap into understanding.

Kuval groaned lightly as his head was ripped back, closing his eyes as he lost the ability to see what was being done to his body. Instead he focused entirely on the new sensations. His breathing deepened at the trail of lips along his skin, so soft in comparison to most he’d felt there on land.

The muscles of his stomach pulled back slightly, but he was having trouble keeping his body still enough for it to matter. One hand fought to keep hold of Dorian’s back as he continued down, but the other, still intertwined in his hair, made it clear where the man was heading.

Startled at the idea, he tried to lift his head only to find it pinned harder still. He felt his hair pop under the pressure, but the pain at his scalp only seemed to keep him grounded in this moment. This pain, this pleasure, this sensation.

Then the heat was around his length and a gasp escaped the Syreni as his eyes flickered open to look at nothing before fluttering closed again. There was a wet feeling beneath his nails and he moved them quickly from their dig in Dorian’s back and instead reached above him in search of something to grip. Finding nothing, he pressed his hand against the wall as his hips began to thrust against that warmth and the barrier found therein.

Slowly he pulled in his bottom lip and bit down there, almost wincing again from the sudden sting of the previous wound. Kuval realized he was nearly panting then, body moving eagerly and his fingers trying to keep the man’s head moving against his length. Nothing had ever felt so good as this and that became known by the first deep guttural moan that pulled from somewhere in the depths of his chest.

A soft groan escaped around the length of him when he felt his nails cut into his back. His strength was realized even more since that grip had instantly opened his skin. Not that he minded, he was one for scratching, gripping, biting. And the more he did it, the more he realized how much he wanted to return such actions on Kuval. His fingers slowly worked him, following the constant move of his lips before trailing the tips of those fingers along his pelvis. The desperate eagerness with which the othr’s hips were moving only proved more that this had to be his first true sexual experience in this body.

That solidification only made him grip more; a newfound possessiveness entering his actions as he pulled him up by his hip. While he wanted to keep his head pinned back, he wanted even more to continue the exploration of his body. Half lidded eyes moved up his stomach, tracing the outline of his abdomen, the crease up his chest, all the way to his parted lips. He wanted to touch them, and chanced untangling his fingers from his hair enough that he was able to move them along the strong line of his jaw.

Not wanting it to end too soon, he slowly moved his lips up the length of him only to drag them down the side; ending in a soft kiss at his pelvis. His fingers moved along Kuval’s parted lips, feeling the shaky breathing there before pushing one in between them. Formidable or not, he knew he had the upper hand here and contemplated taking it further, but common sense wouldn’t allow it. That, or self-preservation should it cross any particular lines. His tongue ran up him slowly, gently circled around the head before just barely sucking his lips there.

As the blessing of mouth and tongue against him moved away, Kuval found a desperation trying to overtake his actions. Where his expression had been pure pleasure, it now shifted toward longing frustration and without thought the lock of fingers in hair forced the man’s lips back to his length in hopes he would start again.

Parting his own lips, Kuval accepted the intrusion of his finger. Without thought he pulled it in, sucking against and tracing his tongue in a manner similar to what he wanted against himself. His hips raised with the excitement of it, the thought of what it might feel like were the positions switched. With that idea in his head, he moved a hand quickly to snatch the witch’s wrist in hopes of keeping his hand as it was.

With an audible exhale, he trying to pull Dorian closer in every way he could. The heat of skin on skin was exhilarating. The taste on his tongue, of blood and salt and sea, only made the Syreni all the more eager as it pulled the primal instincts from within him. He found it hard not to move him, to grip and pull and rip this man around how he wanted him.

Control, he reminded himself, Use control…!

His eyes fluttered closed with a near inaudible moan around him when he was directed against his length. His fingers gripped tighter at his hip, the nails digging in instantly, enough so to draw up thin crescents of blood. The other was growing more aggressive in his movements, and he recognized the forced restraint easily. Keeping that harsh grip at his hip, he forced them to move slower but with a constant roll as his tongue and lips moved in time. With each pull he was sure to have him press to the soft velvet of the back of his throat, and likewise he moved a second finger between his lips.

Both fingertips pressed along the middle of his tongue, and his eyes closed tighter as he envisioned that touch on himself. When was the last time he’d had such a virgin mouth…? He immediately remembered the sharpness of Kuval’s teeth, and his stomach dipped in response. He had his own complicated relationship with pain, and usually enjoyed it rather than resented it. Now, his breathing was growing shakier, lust building to a dangerous level as he started to lift his lips from him.

Immediately Kuval’s fingers clamped into his hair, and he didn’t even try to hold back the moan of pleasure from such a grip. On the contrary, he found himself wanting to force even more of that aggression out of him, and began to slowly press his fingers back along his tongue to try and move them from their slick spot between his lips. Strong fingers gripped tighter around his wrist, but he still removed them. They quickly went back to their previous spot in his hair, twisting in the locks instantly and ripping his head forward to force him to look down.

His own eyes flashed open and met his, longing, possessive, completely and absolutely carnal as he commanded him with this look alone to do more. That thought was punctuated even strongr as he brought his teeth in enough to have them glide along the delicate skin of his length. Not enough to cause injury, but certainly enough to get his point across. He respected certain levels of control as much as the next person, but this was the closest he’d gotten to tapping out that primal side of him; a side he very much wanted to experience.

A knot was trying to form in the pit of Kuval’s stomach. Too much was happening way too fast. The pleasure, the tension, the rising build that led to more of both, and to add insult his own restraint for control was growing harder by the moment.

Fingers curling on the wall behind him, he heard the scratch and crack of wood as he nearly ripped the baseboard away, nails and all. His responses were without thought, without his command, showing the eagerness in the raise of his head toward leading fingers and the near whimper from the loss of warmth around his length yet again.

So when his head was ripped down again, and his eyes locked on the testing sight of Dorian toying with his own twitching length, he knew he could rise to the unspoken challenge. In an instant, moving purely on instinct, Kuval ripped the witch back by his hair. His stomach pulled, the core of him in full use as he sat up and then forward quickly.

With fingers still twisted in the dark locks of hair, he splayed the witch onto his back and himself now over him. In the same action the hand gripping his wrist quickly slammed it to the wood beneath them as well. Here he say for a moment, breathing heavily as his own eyes traced down the lean body beneath him.

Suddenly he felt large again, in control. This man, so small beneath him, was his. He’d started this moment, challenged it, and now Kuval felt no hesitation in responding to the call. He released his wrist first and moved his hand quickly to foreign length that rose as if in offering to him. His fingers wrapped almost too tightly and began the amateurish and rough tug of inexperience. Truth me told, it had less to do in the moment with Dorian’s pleasure so much as Kuval’s desire to touch and feel and simply have all of him.

Again Kuval bit down on his lips as he stayed dominantly over the other man, keeping his head pinned to the floor even if it meant a few popped strands. Any protests or movements were lost to the pleasure of the moment, falling on deaf ears as Kuval enjoyed the sensation. He could practically feel the beating of his heart in his own length, desperately aching for relief. It hadn’t taken much logic to know where this would go, based on his own anatomy, and he knew the moment was coming. He wanted it to last, wanted to not lose it all the instant he felt that pleasure, so his focused remained here a moment as he tested Dorian’s responses to his manipulations.

His fingers toyed, changed pace. They tugged curiously at skin, pressed a nail gently at the slit, brushed at the sensitive underside as if all he meant to do was memorize what he’d lose again when they were redressed. And he did, in fact, want to memorize everything that had happened, and was to come.