Merrick sinks into the kiss easily, shifting his body so he's lying against Metaari's side, curled against his shoulder. He kisses hard, drinking in every second of it, never wasting one.
He has no idea what came over him. Just minutes ago he'd been plotting the best way to kill Metaari, and now he's pressed against him, hand resting on his chest above his heart, kissing him desperately. His whole body feels hot, aches with the desire he's never felt for any other person.
It's probably dangerous. Right now, he doesn't care.
Merrick will feel a faint flutter, if he pays enough attention to where his hand is placed, as Metaari's heart beats a few extra times faster than normal. His fingers curl into Merrick's hair, his body following the shifts and movements that the elf makes as easily as though he's anticipating every one.
"So eager," he murmurs against parted lips, his tongue dancing along them before dipping inside Merrick's mouth. His fingers pull at the strands of hair tangled around them, his teeth nip at lips, and still he seeks to find ways to get more. More heat, more touches, more anything.
A small smirk, just touching the edge of his lips, is Merrick's reply. He crawls back on top of Metaari, so he can move his hands over the broad chest again. He barely separates their lips for even a moment, answering each nip with a growl and a bite of his own.
Metaari has made a mess of his hair, and it springs loose from the scant amount of product he uses to tame it, curls falling over his face. He doesn't seem to mind, his own fingers coming to rest on Metaari's cheek.
"I want your hands all over me," he whispers, and his voice sounds low and heavy and surprising to his own ears.
It's strange; feral and tender, consuming and soft. It's an interesting chemistry that they have, and Metaari thinks that he could get addicted to it rather quickly, that maybe he already has. He tips his head a little toward the fingers against his cheek with a faint smile, practically nuzzling them. "It's a good thing you're irresistible, then."
His hands move, finally untangling from Merrick's hair, to spread across his body like asked. They touch every bare expanse they can find before one hand finally searches for access under his shirt so calloused fingertips can caress his back. "I want you squirming on top of me, Merrick."
"I'm not squirming that much," Merrick argues weakly, but once Metaari's huge hands start caressing him there's no stopping it. His spine stretches out like a cat's, and there's a low rumble of contentment in the base of his throat that sounds very much like a purr. He practically undulates, chest falling low against Metaari until he flattens himself against him.
He buries his face against the other's neck, then, breath shuddering against the skin as his body trembles slightly in the qunari's hands. As usual his small frame can't handle the force of his emotions, and the want he feels is overwhelming him.
"Not yet you aren't," Metaari counters with a cocksure grin. The way he shifts and stretches and actually trembles against him is intoxicating in ways he can't quite pinpoint, but knows he wants more of. Maybe it has something to do with being able to bring someone with so much ferocity boiling inside of them to this point. It's a power trip, yes, but more than that, it makes Metaari feel wanted in ways he hasn't in some time.
Metaari tips his head to the side to open his throat up some more before gripping Merrick's hips and pushing up against him, letting him get a feel for just how much this is already starting to get to him. He grunts a little at the friction and wets his lips, gazing up toward the ceiling. "Too many clothes," he finally mutters, tugging a bit at the fabric between them.
Metaari's hands on his hips just reminds Merrick of how small he is in comparison to the man below him, and the desire pressing up against him just emphasizes that even more. He shivers despite the heat coursing through him, and turns his head slightly to bite at Metaari's thick neck.
He straightens up once he feels he managed to leave a decent enough bruise, and quickly unbuttons his shirt. He doesn't push it off, but it does reveal quite a bit of skin. It glows in the flickering light of the fire, and he slips his shirt a little off his shoulder to show more.
Then he sits back, pointedly pressing his ass against Metaari's dick, smirking and playfully biting his lip a little.
Metaari watches him, his eyes partially lidded, shimmering with want and desire, and he grins a little as skin is bared to him. He runs his fingers up the length of Merrick's torso with a low rumble, watching the contrast of skin, the way his hand almost seems like it could reach across the elf's entire body.
Once he starts pressing down Metaari surges upward, sitting up to wrap his arms around Merrick's body, enveloping him. Both of his hands hold Merrick's slim waist and he pulls him down, increasing the pressure, as he leans in to snag another heated kiss.
"I want you," he finally mutters, voice low and rumbling and full of heat. "Maker, do I want you."
Bare skin presses together with a shock of electricity that stings Merrick and makes him gasp. He lets himself go for a moment, just riding out the sensations, twining his arms around Metaari's neck as he continues to grind against him. He surges upward for kiss after kiss, gasping between each one as arousal spreads hot and wild through his entire body.
"Fuck," he breathes, startled by the jut of his own erection pressing against Metaari's stomach, wet and increasingly uncomfortable in his trousers. He wants Metaari to fuck him so badly, he can barely breathe with want of it, but he also has to be able to walk in the morning.
So--a compromise.
"Fuck my thighs," he proposes, the words breathy and wet against the skin of Metaari's neck.
There's a faint noise of protest--he wants inside, to feel heat and warmth and tightness, to have it fresh in his memory again--but he stifles it a moment later. No, Merrick is right. They aren't exactly in a place for either of them to deal with the aftermath of going so far; if this was his own bed, maybe, he would insist. But he's going to have to do enough cleaning up for the old woman by way of apology already. No sense in making it worse.
He slips a hand down between their bodies to grasp at the front of Merrick's trousers, groping him through the fabric with a sigh. A moment of teasing and his hand moves up a bit to slip under the waistband, slipping it down just a bit, before he grunts. "On your knees, then," he mutters, gently pushing Merrick off of his lap (though he'd rather do anything but). "I want to see you. Better, this time."
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.
A moan escapes Metaari as he watches, groping himself now as Merrick shifts and gets himself settled. The trust and willingness shown alone is enough to get him going, and he has to resist the urge to just pounce right as the opportunity presents itself.
He moves to stand instead, hastily undoing the ties to his own trousers so that they can pool on the floor at his feet. Once he's undressed he gets to his knees on the bed behind Merrick and leans over him, a large, warm presence above him. He bends down and places a kiss against the back of Merrick's neck before starting to trail downward, placing hot kisses through the fabric of the shirt that still remains. When he gets to the base of Merrick's spine he pulls back so that he can move down further, bypassing what he wants to get to what he needs.
Metaari lays himself on his back and pulls Merrick down a little toward him, keeping the elf's legs splayed open on either side of his head, so that he can place hot, wet kisses to his inner thighs--and maybe, maybe, occasionally flicking a teasing tongue up to caress the balls and heated erection dangling above him.
The kisses, warm and lavished over his body, are met with low purrs rolling in Merrick's throat. It's wonderful to be kissed in such a way, that makes him feel cherished, secure in his own skin in a way he never feels otherwise. And then--
"Creators!"
Just like last time, Metaari stuns Merrick by doing things that have never even occurred to him before. He grits his teeth and stifles a whimper, one hand darting up to clutch the headboard as Metaari's mouth moves over his skin. His hips move, trying to feel more, get more, as he squirms above Metaari.
Metaari chuckles at the noise, the sound vibrating low in his chest, and he brings his hands up to hold Merrick's hips firmly in place while he lavishes his attention. He places kiss after kiss against soft thighs, occasionally opening his mouth just a little bit wider to lightly bite at them, until he's certain that they're sufficiently wet for what he needs. With one last kiss he crawls out from underneath Merrick and rises again, this time positioning himself behind him.
He can't help himself; he has to take a moment to lightly tease Merrick's entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing the tip against his opening. Remember this? A faint grin spreads across Metaari's face before he finally aims himself lower, pressing on the outside of Merrick's thighs to push them together and around his warm girth. He sighs at the contact, glad for some sort of pressure finally, and he gives an experimental little thrust forward.
It feels--strange. Metaari's cock is hot and thick between his thighs, its girth pushing them apart, and Merrick still feels the gentle push of the tip against his entrance even when it's gone. He almost says 'fuck it' and lets Metaari push inside him, but he abstains, focusing instead on the new sensations he's experiencing.
He holds still for the time being, allowing Metaari to manipulate his body to find just the right fit. One hand idly strokes his cock, smearing pre-cum over its tip, and he hums softly in contentment.
His hands push Merrick's thighs together just a little bit more, for as much tightness as he's going to get from the soft skin, before he lets his hands move a little more. One goes to Merrick's hip to hold on to him and the other slides under the elf's body and slides up over his torso, calloused fingertips teasing his nipples.
Metaari hums low in his throat as he gives another slow thrust, pressing his hips forward and flush against Merrick's body before he pulls back. Another, and one more, and finally Metaari settles into a slow but steady rhythm. It feels better than he thought it would and he chuckles quietly. He bends his body over Merrick's back in order to place a kiss against his neck again before murmuring, "You're beautiful, you know? Absolutely beautiful."
The compliment actually makes Merrick let out the softest of gasps, as he stiffens even more inside his hand. His body responds, but he himself can't quite handle it. It feels so confoundingly good to be the recipient of those words-- not Cyril. Him. It makes him start to move his hips a little, really get into what they're doing.
His vocal response, however, is full of doubt. "He says with a full view of my ass," he snarks back.
Metaari laughs at that and slips his hand from Merrick's hip to grasp the ass in question, giving it a good squeeze under his hand. "Well, it'd be a lie if I disagreed." His hips snap forward harder, once, before settling back into their rhythm again. "But it takes more than a nice ass to get me to remember someone night after night."
He sits back up again, staring down at the body beneath him, and he reaches forward to bunch the fabric of Merrick's top under his hand, using it as something close to a handle. His other grips the elf's hip, hard enough he'll probably be bruised in the morning, skin patterned with finger-shaped purple marks, before he starts to lay in to him harder.
Merrick just straight up groans in response to that, his own fingers clutching the bedsheets even harder. His other hand starts jerking himself faster, no longer able to hold back, his climax beginning to build.
He's more vocal than last time. They don't have to be quiet now, so Merrick lets himself pant and whine as he squirms on the bed, as his body is held and maneuvered and positioned just so.
"I want--" He has to struggle to find words. "I wish you could fuck me..."
The words make him groan, make him want to slip out from between Merrick's legs so that he can bury himself in what he really wants. The restraint he shows in the moment surprises even him, and his grip on Merrick's hips grows ever tighter as he continues to fight down the urge to give in. "Don't tell me that," he growls out, his voice strained. "Don't tease me with what I so desperately want."
He pushed a hand against the space between Merrick's shoulder blades and pushed down, wanting to get him to rest his upper body against the bed. Maybe this way--well, it'd be easier to pretend. "The next time I see you," he said, his hips starting to move in earnest, sliding in and out between Merrick's thighs, "you won't move for a week, prior engagements be damned."
It only takes the barest bit of force for the huge hand to push Merrick face down, and he offers no resistance. His eyes close and his mouth falls open, sweaty curls of unkempt hair falling over his face, and he can't remember the last time he's been so fucking turned on. It's just his hand pleasuring him, but it's as if the words themselves are what's really getting him off.
It's those last ones--the idea that they'll see one another again, and what Metaari promised if they do--end up bringing him off. He comes hard, and it's a short and brutal thing, causing a sharp gasp and staggering breaths as he spills on the sheet below.
He's a bit more pliant now, but he can keep his thighs tight, can try to bring Metaari to at least as satisfying a climax as his own.
It's the tension, the sensation of Merrick losing himself to the moment, that makes Metaari come undone. He snarls low and deep and practically lifts Merrick off of the bed with the force of his movements. A few more wild snaps of his hips and his own orgasm breaks like a twig, the pleasure crashing over him in powerful waves. His own release joins Merrick's, makes the bed beneath them a mess (he'll have to launder it in the morning for the old woman; he wouldn't wish this on her) and he hangs still in the moment before his body finally releases.
He's careful to shift to the side before he collapses back down onto the bed on his side, his back pressed against the wall once more, and his breath coming in quick, short gasps. One hand rests lightly on Merrick's back, drawing lazy circles on fabric, as he tries to still the thrumming in his chest.
It takes a little while for Merrick's brain to resume functioning, and for him to regain control of his limbs-- but once he does, he makes a noise of disgust and rolls over so he can press himself against Metaari.
A faint, sleepy grumble rumbles through Metaari at the complaint and he lets out a faint breath. He wraps his arms around Merrick's body and rolls until he's flat on his back with the elf laid on top of him. There's some awkward shifting after that as Metaari works the top layer of bedding is out of the way from under his body, and he finally settles down once it's on the floor.
His hands rest lightly on Merrick's back, eyes closed as his body starts to give in to rest. "Better?"
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no subject
Date: 2015-12-20 06:59 am (UTC)He has no idea what came over him. Just minutes ago he'd been plotting the best way to kill Metaari, and now he's pressed against him, hand resting on his chest above his heart, kissing him desperately. His whole body feels hot, aches with the desire he's never felt for any other person.
It's probably dangerous. Right now, he doesn't care.
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Date: 2015-12-20 07:43 am (UTC)"So eager," he murmurs against parted lips, his tongue dancing along them before dipping inside Merrick's mouth. His fingers pull at the strands of hair tangled around them, his teeth nip at lips, and still he seeks to find ways to get more. More heat, more touches, more anything.
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Date: 2015-12-20 07:52 am (UTC)Metaari has made a mess of his hair, and it springs loose from the scant amount of product he uses to tame it, curls falling over his face. He doesn't seem to mind, his own fingers coming to rest on Metaari's cheek.
"I want your hands all over me," he whispers, and his voice sounds low and heavy and surprising to his own ears.
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Date: 2015-12-20 06:22 pm (UTC)His hands move, finally untangling from Merrick's hair, to spread across his body like asked. They touch every bare expanse they can find before one hand finally searches for access under his shirt so calloused fingertips can caress his back. "I want you squirming on top of me, Merrick."
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Date: 2015-12-20 10:31 pm (UTC)He buries his face against the other's neck, then, breath shuddering against the skin as his body trembles slightly in the qunari's hands. As usual his small frame can't handle the force of his emotions, and the want he feels is overwhelming him.
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Date: 2015-12-27 05:47 am (UTC)Metaari tips his head to the side to open his throat up some more before gripping Merrick's hips and pushing up against him, letting him get a feel for just how much this is already starting to get to him. He grunts a little at the friction and wets his lips, gazing up toward the ceiling. "Too many clothes," he finally mutters, tugging a bit at the fabric between them.
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Date: 2015-12-27 06:18 am (UTC)He straightens up once he feels he managed to leave a decent enough bruise, and quickly unbuttons his shirt. He doesn't push it off, but it does reveal quite a bit of skin. It glows in the flickering light of the fire, and he slips his shirt a little off his shoulder to show more.
Then he sits back, pointedly pressing his ass against Metaari's dick, smirking and playfully biting his lip a little.
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Date: 2015-12-27 06:38 am (UTC)Once he starts pressing down Metaari surges upward, sitting up to wrap his arms around Merrick's body, enveloping him. Both of his hands hold Merrick's slim waist and he pulls him down, increasing the pressure, as he leans in to snag another heated kiss.
"I want you," he finally mutters, voice low and rumbling and full of heat. "Maker, do I want you."
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Date: 2015-12-27 07:27 am (UTC)"Fuck," he breathes, startled by the jut of his own erection pressing against Metaari's stomach, wet and increasingly uncomfortable in his trousers. He wants Metaari to fuck him so badly, he can barely breathe with want of it, but he also has to be able to walk in the morning.
So--a compromise.
"Fuck my thighs," he proposes, the words breathy and wet against the skin of Metaari's neck.
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Date: 2015-12-28 01:47 am (UTC)He slips a hand down between their bodies to grasp at the front of Merrick's trousers, groping him through the fabric with a sigh. A moment of teasing and his hand moves up a bit to slip under the waistband, slipping it down just a bit, before he grunts. "On your knees, then," he mutters, gently pushing Merrick off of his lap (though he'd rather do anything but). "I want to see you. Better, this time."
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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.
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Date: 2015-12-28 02:40 am (UTC)He moves to stand instead, hastily undoing the ties to his own trousers so that they can pool on the floor at his feet. Once he's undressed he gets to his knees on the bed behind Merrick and leans over him, a large, warm presence above him. He bends down and places a kiss against the back of Merrick's neck before starting to trail downward, placing hot kisses through the fabric of the shirt that still remains. When he gets to the base of Merrick's spine he pulls back so that he can move down further, bypassing what he wants to get to what he needs.
Metaari lays himself on his back and pulls Merrick down a little toward him, keeping the elf's legs splayed open on either side of his head, so that he can place hot, wet kisses to his inner thighs--and maybe, maybe, occasionally flicking a teasing tongue up to caress the balls and heated erection dangling above him.
no subject
Date: 2015-12-28 03:20 am (UTC)"Creators!"
Just like last time, Metaari stuns Merrick by doing things that have never even occurred to him before. He grits his teeth and stifles a whimper, one hand darting up to clutch the headboard as Metaari's mouth moves over his skin. His hips move, trying to feel more, get more, as he squirms above Metaari.
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Date: 2015-12-28 03:59 am (UTC)He can't help himself; he has to take a moment to lightly tease Merrick's entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing the tip against his opening. Remember this? A faint grin spreads across Metaari's face before he finally aims himself lower, pressing on the outside of Merrick's thighs to push them together and around his warm girth. He sighs at the contact, glad for some sort of pressure finally, and he gives an experimental little thrust forward.
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Date: 2015-12-29 06:39 am (UTC)He holds still for the time being, allowing Metaari to manipulate his body to find just the right fit. One hand idly strokes his cock, smearing pre-cum over its tip, and he hums softly in contentment.
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Date: 2015-12-31 11:10 pm (UTC)Metaari hums low in his throat as he gives another slow thrust, pressing his hips forward and flush against Merrick's body before he pulls back. Another, and one more, and finally Metaari settles into a slow but steady rhythm. It feels better than he thought it would and he chuckles quietly. He bends his body over Merrick's back in order to place a kiss against his neck again before murmuring, "You're beautiful, you know? Absolutely beautiful."
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Date: 2015-12-31 11:41 pm (UTC)His vocal response, however, is full of doubt. "He says with a full view of my ass," he snarks back.
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Date: 2016-01-01 12:36 am (UTC)He sits back up again, staring down at the body beneath him, and he reaches forward to bunch the fabric of Merrick's top under his hand, using it as something close to a handle. His other grips the elf's hip, hard enough he'll probably be bruised in the morning, skin patterned with finger-shaped purple marks, before he starts to lay in to him harder.
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Date: 2016-01-01 01:53 am (UTC)He's more vocal than last time. They don't have to be quiet now, so Merrick lets himself pant and whine as he squirms on the bed, as his body is held and maneuvered and positioned just so.
"I want--" He has to struggle to find words. "I wish you could fuck me..."
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Date: 2016-01-01 04:29 am (UTC)He pushed a hand against the space between Merrick's shoulder blades and pushed down, wanting to get him to rest his upper body against the bed. Maybe this way--well, it'd be easier to pretend. "The next time I see you," he said, his hips starting to move in earnest, sliding in and out between Merrick's thighs, "you won't move for a week, prior engagements be damned."
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Date: 2016-01-01 05:08 am (UTC)It's those last ones--the idea that they'll see one another again, and what Metaari promised if they do--end up bringing him off. He comes hard, and it's a short and brutal thing, causing a sharp gasp and staggering breaths as he spills on the sheet below.
He's a bit more pliant now, but he can keep his thighs tight, can try to bring Metaari to at least as satisfying a climax as his own.
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Date: 2016-01-01 05:26 am (UTC)He's careful to shift to the side before he collapses back down onto the bed on his side, his back pressed against the wall once more, and his breath coming in quick, short gasps. One hand rests lightly on Merrick's back, drawing lazy circles on fabric, as he tries to still the thrumming in his chest.
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Date: 2016-01-04 03:23 am (UTC)"I am not sleeping in all of that," he grumbles.
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Date: 2016-01-13 04:48 am (UTC)His hands rest lightly on Merrick's back, eyes closed as his body starts to give in to rest. "Better?"