Sevastyan #3
“Hands and knees,” Sevastyan clarified, tugging at the harness.
Lisa followed the pressure, pushing up on his hands and arching his back.
Sevastyan kept his fingers buried in his body.
He reached between Lisa’s thighs, grasping at the man’s cock.
It was firm, not completely engorged but a solid pillar in his hand.
“Harder, blade of mine,” Sevastyan ordered. “Show me your hunger.”
A sob left Lisa’s throat. His cock twitched in Sevastyan’s grip.
Sevastyan worked his fingers in and out of Lisa’s hole, manipulating his cock to full arousal until Lisa was throbbing in his grip.
Then he pushed him down onto his face in the bed, rearing up over him. Lisa turned his face to the side to breathe. Sevastyan knelt above, gripping the harness. Lisa’s skin gleamed and his shoulders rose up and down. The cold was gone and now his body was warm and shifting, alive and needing.
Sevastyan gripped his own cock, spreading oil over himself. He put one knee down on the bed by Lisa’s hip and drove himself home inside the other man’s loins.
Lisa’s mouth opened in a silent cry. Sevastyan bottomed out and held his place, pinning Lisa down to the comforter by his neck and his hole.
“Promise me they die,” Lisa gasped.
“They die,” Sevastyan swore. “You dance in their blood. You make them remember your name, even when theirs is forgotten.”
Lisa laughed. “Fuck me, use me. Make me their undoing, master.”
Goosebumps broke over Sevastyan’s skin. He bent his back to the task, driving into Lisa’s body. Lisa gritted his teeth, his hands gripping at the sheets.
Sevastyan leaned down and bit the side of Lisa’s neck, just inside the leather of the harness across the shoulder. Oil coated his tongue and his teeth slid against Lisa’s skin.
Lisa screamed into the sheets, his body undulating. He pushed up on his hands, his hips still pinned, and moved back against Sevastyan, fucking himself on Sevastyan’s cock.
“Do it,” Sevastyan growled. “Fuck yourself. Feed.”
Lisa’s breath stuttered. There was sweat on his hairline now, tendrils of shorter locks sticking to his face. His mouth was open, dragging in air.
“More,” Lisa prayed.
Sevastyan pulled them both up on the bed and gripped the headboard for support, driving his hips down against Lisa’s. “Come when it takes you.” He rolled his hips.
Lisa gritted his teeth—the scabs across the back of his knuckles split as he fisted the sheets—straining back against Sevastyan’s assault. His hole clenched like a vise around Sevastyan’s cock and then he was coming, jerking below Sevastyan, strangled curses escaping from between his teeth.
Sevastyan pressed down into him, pinning him through the spasms, then he withdrew and fucked straight into Lisa’s now sensitive loins.
Lisa screamed. He thrashed. Sevastyan grabbed the back of the harness, gathering the leather in his fist like reins and tightened his thighs around Lisa’s legs, riding him like a furious horse.
“Take it, slave,” Sevastyan spat. “You are my blade.” He pressed Lisa to the bed, fist of leather between his shoulder blades.
Lisa bucked, only driving himself back on Sevastyan’s cock. He screamed into his own arm and pounded his head against the sheets. His feet kicked against the mattress and then, breath by breath, he grew still. Sevastyan drew his cock partially out of Lisa’s hole and sank back inside.
Lisa wailed softly, but his back arched, accepting.
Sevastyan stroked Lisa’s spine in silent praise. “There you are, my beautiful blade. There you are, coming into hand.” A wild weapon was a liability, but a handled one, even yet wild, that he could use.
He fucked down into Lisa’s body until the man beneath him was limp and soft again, then he dragged Lisa up on his knees, his back against Sevastyan’s belly and ran his hands over Lisa’s body, finding his cock and stroking it again.
“Can’t,” Lisa gasped. “Only once, never more than once.”
“You will,” Sevastyan spat. “You will come for me, and you will call me master.”
Lisa shook his head, eyes closed, sweat rolling on his skin.
“I’m not going to use you just once, blade,” Sevastyan said into his ear. “You’re stronger than that. More useful than that. How many times have you killed for me?”
“Thrice,” Lisa gasped. “Thrice. Don’t make me come thrice. Please.”
Sevastyan mouthed the side of Lisa's throat. “I will train you, my wild blade. Today, only twice.”
He swayed, dancing with Lisa’s body against his, caressing his shaft, stroking the man’s balls, massaging his belly.
Lisa’s cock stiffened. His body grew taut and heavy, his weight entirely in Sevastyan’s power.
He pressed Lisa back down to the bed, held Lisa’s thighs together, and ground himself deep as the other man shuddered towards a second eruption in half an hour.
“Master,” Lisa sobbed. Sevastyan bit the back of Lisa’s neck, rolled his hips, his own release exploding deep into Lisa’s body.
He stayed there, holding their positions, keeping Lisa beneath him as the slave shuddered and cried through what was probably as painful as it was pleasurable.
“Good,” Sevastyan murmured against Lisa’s hair. “You flew twice for me.”
Lisa gasped back a wordless reply.
Sevastyan dragged himself from Lisa’s hole and spread his buttocks with his thumbs checking for any signs of blood or swelling. Other than a puffy, well-used gate, it appeared the oil and the slow approach had done their job.
Sevastyan stroked his hand over Lisa’s side in praise. “Stay.”
He needed towels. His wild blade deserved that much for bending and submitting to the taming.
“Master,” Lisa whispered.
“Yes?”
Lisa turned his head, his hand reaching out. Sevastyan grasped him back.
“Master,” Lisa repeated.
Sevastyan stretched out on the bed beside him, holding Lisa’s hand, their faces close together. “I’m here, Lisa.”
“I feel empty. Why do I feel empty?”
Sevastyan’s chest clenched. He moved closer, covering Lisa with his body, still holding his hand. “Do you want me back inside?”
Lisa nodded, tears trickling down his nose.
Sevastyan pressed his forehead against the back of Lisa’s neck. He reached between their bodies and sank two fingers into Lisa’s body. Lisa’s breath hitched once, then deepened, evening out, his shoulders loosening beneath Sevastyan’s chest.
Sevastyan closed his eyes, triumph and despair mixing together inside his chest. He knew the emptiness Lisa described. To receive required a hollowing out for some. When the hollow was filled with another, it was a delicious, painful pleasure.
But when the other withdrew, they were still whole. For the one who had been taken, the chasm remained. The vulnerability, the bending that had been given, the space that had been made, that remained.
“Hold this,” Sevastyan whispered. “Let the sick, the emptiness of it all, fill you up. Keep it in your belly and show it to me in your eyes when you kneel at my feet. That is your submission, your sacrifice.”
Lisa shuddered. “You’ve made me need you.”
Sevastyan pressed his lips against Lisa’s skin. “Yes.” He closed his eyes, feeling the burden of it all.
When the sweat was cool on both their skins, he rose, heated towels under hot water in the bathroom and returned, rubbing Lisa down. Then he held him until sleep took Lisa under. And then a little longer.
He should shower. He should rise and make sure Rei had eaten and drank water. He should check his messages. He did none of it. He was still sitting with his back against the headboard, holding Lisa in his arms when Ellisandre let themselves into the room hours later.