Merrick usually isn't one to obey, especially not as quickly as he climbs off Metaari's lap and gets on his hands and knees right then. He doesn't feel like it's demeaning though, nor does his pride take over. He just feels safe, like he's in a place where he doesn't have to lash out and rail against the world like he usually does. It's strange, alarming, but he doesn't question it, too engaged in the moment.
He's still throbbing between his legs, even worse now that he'd had those brief moments of touch. He pushes against his own hand whenever he's able as he works off his pants, peeling them off his hips and down his thighs.
Then his hands press against the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets. Presenting himself. Utterly vulnerable, a state he has to try not to fight against.
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Date: 2015-12-28 02:27 am (UTC)He's still throbbing between his legs, even worse now that he'd had those brief moments of touch. He pushes against his own hand whenever he's able as he works off his pants, peeling them off his hips and down his thighs.
Then his hands press against the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets. Presenting himself. Utterly vulnerable, a state he has to try not to fight against.