Merrick is shaking from head to toe, clinging to Metaari almost desperately, breaths shuddering as they leave his lungs. He's overwhelmed, just like last time-- so, so incredibly full, like he can feel it in his belly, his throat. The ache of it goes all the way up his spine, and he feels like his bones might shatter, like he might break in Metaari's arms.
He opens his mouth and a whimper comes out, followed by another when he tries something else. It's all he can articulate right now, so he just presses his nails into Metaari's back, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, and just--holds on.
Metaari doesn't move, doesn't even twitch. He can feel Merrick trembling against him, can feel how he quakes through his entire body, and it's--startling. An overwhemling need to protect suddenly hits him, which is absurd, really. Merrick is fully capable of taking care of himself, but Metaari still feels the desire to stand in front of him against anything that might come his way.
So he holds him back, one hand soothingly moving up and down his back. He tips his head back a little and nudges at Merrick's face with his nose until he can find the elf's mouth and cover it with his own again, swallowing the whimpers.
The sudden tenderness is unexpected, but exactly what Merrick needs right now, and he cants his head up so he can meet that gentle kiss. He answers it with slow, sweet movements of his lips, his spine curving in tandem with the stroking along his back.
Slowly his body begins to relax around Metaari, some of the tension uncoiling from his muscles, though he continues to tremble with pure need. His hands crawl up to the back of Metaari's neck and his kisses get more erratic, more desperate. He bites on his partner's lower lip, follows it with a short, breathy laugh.
The shaking is a subtle change, less tense and pained, but the moment he gets that little nip to his lips Metaari can feel the shift and he grins at the laugh, stealing one more kiss. It's an unspoken got it and Metaari shifts his hold so he has both of his hands under Merrick's body.
Slowly, so slowly, he starts to pull his hips back, bringing himself out halfway before he presses back in again. A groan rumbles through his chest at the sensation, hot and tight and good, and he repeats the motion. Slowly out, slowly in. And again, until he can start to feel Merrick opening up around him.
Merrick sucks in a gasp, releasing the tension in his hips as he sinks down. He clutches Metaari around the shoulders, keeping close, breathing deeply. The slide of Metaari's cock in and out of his body is all he can feel, all he can think about, and he closes his eyes and just allows himself to be taken.
He isn't a passive partner, though--his hands moving up and down Metaari's back, nails occasionally scratching at the back of his neck, thighs tightening and trembling around him, heels pressing into his back.
His cock, having gone soft from the shock of the penetration, begins to stiffen again as Metaari starts to move inside his body. He lets out a shuddering breath.
"Fuck me," he whispers, his voice ragged. "I need you to..."
The words cause a wave of desire to crash through Metaari's body and he groans at them, his eyes falling closed as he internalizes it, files the phrasing and the sound of Merrick's voice away. It isn't the first time he's heard the words, not by a long shot, but it isn't very often that they're so honest. This isn't lip service, this is true need.
His stance shifts, widens just a bit so he's sturdier, and he grips Merrick's thighs with a grin. "Fuck you, huh?" He pulls himself almost all the way out and taunts, holds the position for just a moment. "Ask and you shall receive," he rumbles before snapping his hips up, burying himself fast and deep inside of Merrick's body, the start of a steady, pounding rhythm.
Just like last time, Merrick has no choice but to hang on and just ride it, to release his tight control on his own body and just take, just feel. He can't think anymore, can't speak, can barely move. He grips Metaari, both arms around his neck now, squeezing him tight.
The whimpers that leave his lips are the qunari's alone to hear. The vulnerability he's showing is such that no one else can see, that will stay in this wine cellar between the two of them forever.
There's a rhythm to his gasps and cries, a steady "ah--ah--ah--" as he's pounded into.
It's... fantastic. He's been anticipating this since their run-in at Redcliffe and it's everything he could have possibly wanted out of it. From the heat wrapped around him, clinging to him like he doesn't want to let go.
He plants his lips against Merrick's neck again, his breath hot ghosting across his skin in panted breaths. "Amazing," he mutters, his voice low and thick with his desire. "You feel amazing, Merrick. You sound amazing."
A faint smile is hidden against Merrick's neck as he picks the pace up a little more, an urgency starting to spike his system. "Let me hear it..."
"Fuck," Merrick responds in between his cries. "It's so--much..."
His fingers dig into Metaari's biceps then crawl up to his chest and collarbone, scratching at the skin. Then he holds onto the back of Metaari's neck, his body curling around him, heels pressing hard into the qunari's back.
"D-don't--" he huffs out. "Don't let me--fall..."
It's a stupid request, and makes no sense in the context of what they're doing, but it still comes out as Merrick turns his head and buries his face in the hollow of Metaari's throat.
Metaari is almost certain that someone, somewhere, has heard what's going on down here. There's no way they couldn't, not with the festivities still going on outside: someone will want wine sooner or later. The thought that someone may have already stumbled on them and left just as quickly spurs him on faster.
The words make him tighten his grip and hot breath ghosts across Merrick's skin as his hips piston just that much faster. "You're not," he manages to huff out between breaths, body tensing as the pressure builds within him. "Fuck, I'm so close...!"
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He opens his mouth and a whimper comes out, followed by another when he tries something else. It's all he can articulate right now, so he just presses his nails into Metaari's back, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, and just--holds on.
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So he holds him back, one hand soothingly moving up and down his back. He tips his head back a little and nudges at Merrick's face with his nose until he can find the elf's mouth and cover it with his own again, swallowing the whimpers.
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Slowly his body begins to relax around Metaari, some of the tension uncoiling from his muscles, though he continues to tremble with pure need. His hands crawl up to the back of Metaari's neck and his kisses get more erratic, more desperate. He bites on his partner's lower lip, follows it with a short, breathy laugh.
He's okay.
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Slowly, so slowly, he starts to pull his hips back, bringing himself out halfway before he presses back in again. A groan rumbles through his chest at the sensation, hot and tight and good, and he repeats the motion. Slowly out, slowly in. And again, until he can start to feel Merrick opening up around him.
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He isn't a passive partner, though--his hands moving up and down Metaari's back, nails occasionally scratching at the back of his neck, thighs tightening and trembling around him, heels pressing into his back.
His cock, having gone soft from the shock of the penetration, begins to stiffen again as Metaari starts to move inside his body. He lets out a shuddering breath.
"Fuck me," he whispers, his voice ragged. "I need you to..."
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His stance shifts, widens just a bit so he's sturdier, and he grips Merrick's thighs with a grin. "Fuck you, huh?" He pulls himself almost all the way out and taunts, holds the position for just a moment. "Ask and you shall receive," he rumbles before snapping his hips up, burying himself fast and deep inside of Merrick's body, the start of a steady, pounding rhythm.
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The whimpers that leave his lips are the qunari's alone to hear. The vulnerability he's showing is such that no one else can see, that will stay in this wine cellar between the two of them forever.
There's a rhythm to his gasps and cries, a steady "ah--ah--ah--" as he's pounded into.
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He plants his lips against Merrick's neck again, his breath hot ghosting across his skin in panted breaths. "Amazing," he mutters, his voice low and thick with his desire. "You feel amazing, Merrick. You sound amazing."
A faint smile is hidden against Merrick's neck as he picks the pace up a little more, an urgency starting to spike his system. "Let me hear it..."
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His fingers dig into Metaari's biceps then crawl up to his chest and collarbone, scratching at the skin. Then he holds onto the back of Metaari's neck, his body curling around him, heels pressing hard into the qunari's back.
"D-don't--" he huffs out. "Don't let me--fall..."
It's a stupid request, and makes no sense in the context of what they're doing, but it still comes out as Merrick turns his head and buries his face in the hollow of Metaari's throat.
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The words make him tighten his grip and hot breath ghosts across Merrick's skin as his hips piston just that much faster. "You're not," he manages to huff out between breaths, body tensing as the pressure builds within him. "Fuck, I'm so close...!"