Chapter 8 #3
The door is hard against Bellamy's back, and he winds his hands up Ivah's chest, mapping the solid warmth of him, over his shoulders and around his neck.
Ivah is tall enough that Bellamy has to stretch to reach, but Ivah bends down to meet him halfway, making sure Bellamy doesn't have to strain for what he wants.
Ivah pulls back just enough to press a soft kiss to Bellamy's chin, his breath warm against Bellamy's skin. "You are more beautiful than I remember," he says.
Bellamy swallows thickly, caught up in the intensity of Ivah's eyes, the way Ivah is looking at him like he's the most important thing in the world.
He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't even get a chance to start before Ivah is kissing him again.
Bellamy has to kiss him back, and keep kissing him, maybe never stop.
Ivah is so warm against him, still holding Bellamy against the door like he's something worth protecting, and he's the only thing keeping Bellamy from sliding to his knees with the overwhelming intensity of want coursing through him.
Bellamy feels like he's burning up from the inside, heat building and spreading through his entire body the longer they continue to kiss. Every touch of Ivah's hands, every soft sound Ivah makes, every gentle bite to Bellamy's lower lip sends sparks racing along his nerve endings.
Ivah's hands find the hem of Bellamy's tunic and he tugs it up slowly, giving Bellamy plenty of time to object. When Bellamy only lifts his arms to help, Ivah pulls it off completely and lets it fall to the floor.
Then Ivah is pulling his own shirt off, and Bellamy's breath catches in his throat because he's seen Ivah’s chest before— but never like this. Never with permission to look, to touch, to appreciate the way the late afternoon light from the window highlights every line and curve of Ivah's torso.
"I want—" Ivah starts, then seems to change his mind about what he was going to ask. Instead, he leans down to press a kiss to the hollow of Bellamy's throat, right at his pulse point, and Bellamy's head falls back against the door with a soft thud.
"Yes," Bellamy breathes, not even sure what he's agreeing to, just knowing that whatever Ivah wants to do to him, Bellamy wants it too. "Yes, whatever you want."
Ivah lifts his head to look at him, eyes dark with want but still careful, still checking. "What I want is to make you feel good," he says simply. "What I want is to take my time with you, learn what you like. If you'll let me."
Bellamy's heart does something complicated in his chest, desire and gratitude all tangling together until he can barely breathe. "Ivah," he manages, and then he's pulling Ivah down for another kiss because words aren't enough for what he's feeling.
This time when Ivah presses closer, Bellamy can feel more of him—the warmth of his bare skin, the way his breathing has quickened, the careful way he holds himself like he's trying not to overwhelm Bellamy with his size and strength.
Bellamy wants to tell him that he doesn't need to be quite so careful, that Bellamy trusts him completely, but Ivah seems to understand anyway.
Ivah's hands map the new skin he's revealed, fingers tracing patterns across Bellamy's chest and sides like he's memorizing every inch.
When his thumb brushes across Bellamy's nipple, Bellamy gasps and arches against him, and Ivah makes that soft sound again, the one that makes Bellamy feel like he's coming apart at the seams.
He gets his hands between them so he can work Ivah’s pants open and off, Ivah tangling their arms together to help them both.
The moment they’re both bare they’re pressing together again, Ivah’s arms around Bellamy’s back, hands on the globes of Bellamy’s ass.
He squeezes once, then twice, then he lifts Bellamy bodily off the ground and Bellamy’s legs instinctively wrap around Ivah’s waist.
“Oh gods,” Bellamy pants, as he kisses over Ivah’s jaw and neck, rubbing his swollen cock over Ivah’s abs. He wants to rub himself all over Ivah until he comes and never stop.
Two hands are prying his cheeks apart, and a large finger brushes over his hole, dry and gentle. Bellamy shivers, trying his best to push back on to that finger, wanting it inside, wanting to be filled up.
“Wait here,” Ivah tells him, pressing a kiss to his clavicle, and Bellamy whines low in his throat.
Ivah sits him back on the ground long enough to grab a bottle from the bedside table, then he’s back in Bellamy’s space, hoisting him back up against him, and Bellamy will never get tired of this.
He’s never been handled like this before, just so easily lifted and placed, and he loves it.
He can’t believe he’s never done this before. He’s so wet already.
With the oil now in hand, Ivah pours a healthy pool into his palm and over three of his fingers. It falls to the ground when he’s done with it. Then those slicked up fingers are circling Bellamy’s rim with more intent, pressing lightly against his hole like Ivah is asking permission to come in.
Bellamy undulates his hips, shifting down to get them where he wants them, but Ivah seems intent, for the moment, to go at his own pace.
He pops one fingertip inside, pressing with aching slowness until he’s up to the second knuckle.
The process is repeated with the second finger, slow and steady, driving Bellamy made with the tease of it all.
He doesn’t know how Ivah can stand it. Bellamy is out of his mind with want, rocking himself up and down, trying to chase the feeling of Ivah’s cut abs against his straining, throbbing cock, and the fingers easing him open.
The first press over the bundle of nerves inside of him has him crying out, arms tightening around Ivah’s shoulders to hold himself up.
Not that he has to worry about going anywhere, secure in Ivah’s arms, his hold steady and powerful and Bellamy weightless in his embrace.
Ivah holds him like he’s nothing, like he could do this all day, and the thought causes a bolt of tingles to sizzle up and down his spine.
There’s another press over that spot, Ivah starting to rub with more purpose now.
It drags a long, drawn out whimper from the back of Bellamy’s throat and he shudders.
He thinks he could come just like this, with Ivah’s fingers thrusting in and out of him, his cock rubbing against Ivah’s stomach, but he doesn’t want that.
He wants Ivah’s cock inside him, filling him up, stretching him open.
He wants him so much it’s all he can think.
“Ivah, please,” he breathes, kissing the corner of Ivah’s mouth, his chin, the mole behind his ear. “Please fuck me.”
Ivah pulls his fingers free and lifts him up just enough to angle his cock and slip it in.
He kisses Bellamy roughly as he lets gravity slide Bellamy down the long, thick length of him, stretching him so wide it almost hurts. He sucks Bellamy’s lower lips into his mouth, curling his tongue at the same time Bellamy’s toes curl, every string in his body going taut.
It’s so good. The feeling of Ivah inside of him, so hot and slick and fucking into his sensitive, clenching ass. They both moan in unison, Bellamy using whatever leverage is available to him to milk Ivah’s cock as Ivah meets him thrust for thrust, their breathing growing heavier around them.
“Look at you. You’re so gorgeous,” Ivah says against his wet, kiss-swollen mouth. His hips continue to piston upward, slamming Bellamy down on his cock, one of his hands on Bellamy’s chest, pinching at his nipples.
Bellamy’s own hands are clawing at Ivah’s back, his thighs beginning to tremble as he rides Ivah the best he can from this position.
It’s becoming more difficult to keep his legs wrapped around Ivah, so he lets them go, knowing Ivah can hold him up, that he won’t let Bellamy fall.
This allows Ivah to then slip his arms beneath Bellamy’s thighs, the door at Bellamy’s back, and fuck him with enough strength that Bellamy is hanging off the end of his cock and still speared on it every time Ivah presses back in.
He’s so close. His fingernails are digging crescents into Ivah’s shoulders, while he bites his lip and tries not to make so much noise that someone might hear them.
It’s impossible to stay quiet though, with the way Ivah is pressing into him.
He’s gasping into the air between them, desperate for breath and unable to find it, and Ivah seems to sense how close he is.
He quickens his thrusts, Bellamy’s dripping dick pressing between them.
Bellamy cries out as he feels Ivah’s thick cock swell even further, drilling into him, and he finally spills onto Ivah’s stomach.
He manages to keep holding on, even as his orgasm leaves him feeling boneless and useless, until he feels Ivah’s hips stutter as he comes, his grip on Bellamy’s thighs so hard it will probably leave bruises.
Ivah is covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily as he lowers Bellamy back onto the floor, but he keeps a hand around his waist to steady him all the same.
Bellamy lets himself be guided to the bed, where he curls up on his side and tries to remember his own name.
Ivah falls onto the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in close.