dalishstorm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dalishstorm) wrote2010-06-23 01:03 am
dalishstorm) wrote2010-06-23 01:03 am
The Contest
Original prompt: In camp, they compete to see who makes the other scream first.
---------------------------
How delightful, that moment of shared release—Zevran clawed at the blankets beneath him, head thrown back in a silent cry, as Cadryn roughly thrust in and stilled, hands clutching the elf's hips in a bruising grip, filling him, coming hard with a throaty gasp. Spent, Cadryn lowered his head to Zevran's shoulder with an moan, somewhere between satisfied and exasperated.
“Ah, do not despair, my dear Warden. That was much nearer than your previous attempts.” Zevran settled a hand at the base of Cadryn's spine, ran fingertips lightly up to the nape of his neck, twining them lightly in auburn hair.
“Its impossible,” Cadryn muttered into Zevran's shoulder. “Not that I don't enjoy trying.” Chuckling, Zevran drew his other hand up to give Cadryn's shoulder a squeeze.
They'd been at this for two weeks now, this contest, and one of them would inevitably fold. Zevran had the advantage, of course, confident that he could tease the most lascivious cries from his Warden at his leisure. He drew the contest out for selfish reasons: Cadryn, a healer by nature despite the intensity of his rare emotional outbursts, was a gentle lover. And this was novel, unique, and honestly Zevran liked it. He'd experienced all manner of fetishes and kinks in his life as a Crow, but never this sweetness, this emotional depth in lovemaking. It frightened him, this near transcendental connection to the Warden during their intimate entanglements, but drew him back, craving more as if some irresistible drug. That didn't mean that he wanted to abandon any of his old preferences, no, and this contest of theirs drew a harshness from the Warden that he missed and sometimes craved. And he had plans, after all.
Plans he decided to enact at Eamon's estate in Denerim just before the Landsmeet. When not plagued by taint-induced nightmares Cadryn was a deep sleeper, and Zevran very quiet and gentle in his preparations. He only worried about the plan for a moment, and braced himself to face a moment of genuine panic from the Warden. That would pass, of course, and would be worth it in the end.
So Cadryn woke in the night to soft kisses trailing up his jaw, a nip at one earlobe, trailing back down to the hollow of his collarbone. With a moan he stretched, hands moving down to trail across Zevran's back--
Cadryn's green eyes opened wide and starkly awake as his wrists met resistance, and he tried to move them again to be certain. Arms outstretched above him, hands very nearly tied together, just enough slack that he could tug in resistance before the ropes started to creak against the wooden backboard. He craned his head to get a look at the knots, but slender fingers gripped him on either cheek and forced his gaze in a certain direction, familiar lips claiming his. Cadryn very nearly responded in kind, but the pressure on his wrists and a spike of fear stilled him. Neither resisting the kiss nor participating, Cadryn just let that tongue slide past his lips, exploring. Past that initial forcefulness it faded into passion, and Cadryn felt himself responding in spite of the circumstances, in spite of the fear.
When Zevran drew away Cadryn tugged at the ropes again, panicking. “Zevran--”
Zevran hushed him with a less involved kiss. “My dear Warden, you are always in control of everything around you. You deprive yourself of so much in this. Submitting to another's whims, relinquishing that control, can be a release in itself.”
“Fine,” Cadryn said, tone clipped. Tugging at the ropes for emphasis, he continued, “Then untie me. I'll submit. Whatever you want.”
Zevran tutted at Cadryn, shaking his head. “You misunderstand. I have removed that choice for you. What do you expect?” Green eyes still regarded him with fear, wide and following his every move in a twitchy fashion. Leaning over Cadryn, stretching his own nude body to give Cadryn a better view—green eyes flicked down and back up briefly—Zevran tested the ropes. “So many associate these bindings with pain,” Zevran mused. “I expect you to find no pleasure in pain, and so I will not offer you that. What I want is to still your roaming hands, to force you to experience. You will have no distraction from any sensation as I am free to do what I please to you.” In spite of himself, Cadryn shuddered, Zevran's tone felt in the base of his spine, and Zevran's smirk broke into a genuine smile. “Ah, yes, that is a nice start.”
Zevran started in with the kisses again, moving down his neck, almost unconsciously brushing his length against Cadryn's with each motion, light touches, never quite satisfying. By the time Zevran gripped Cadryn's erection in one hand, running his tongue down the side and looking up with half-lidded eyes for Cadryn's reaction, Cadryn was already quivering, partly still in fear from having so little control, partly....
“Trust me,” Zevran murmured, and Cadryn did his best to relax. He felt so utterly helpless, and it felt wrong. He was a leader now, a hero, and being at anyone's mercy tore violently at his self-expectations. Closing his eyes, Cadryn took a deep breath, then another, trying to remind himself that this was his lover. And when a familiar warmth enveloped him Cadryn jerked against the restraints, sucked in a surprised breath as that wicked tongue began teasing. Unable to tangle his hands in Zevran's hair, Cadryn grit his teeth against the urge to thrust up, but eventually couldn't help himself. Anticipating this, Zevran used the motion to swallow his length.
Cadryn came embarrassingly fast, finally opening his eyes in time to meet Zevran's, briefly, before their lips met once more. With a flash of hope he realized that he could taste himself on Zevran's tongue, and so returned the kiss with ardent fervor, eliciting a little moan from his lover. Some modicum of control returned with the ability to invoke such a reaction in spite of his helplessness. Zevran broke the kiss off before Cadryn could do much with this new-found control, but the damage was already done. It wasn't about domination, but about Cadryn relinquishing control, if only for a moment. With Zevran's weight off him briefly Cadryn inched up on the bed, trying to get a little slack in the ropes.
“You look amazing like this.” Leaning back, Zevran's tongue flitted out to lick his lips before one hand trailed down across taut muscles and golden skin to fondle himself. And that was the greatest turn-on of all, the thought that in such a state he was a spectacle. It was one thing to make love to someone and know that they found you attractive, but another entirely to see this sort of response. It drove Cadryn to try and imagine himself from Zevran's perspective, how he must look here, flushed and panting from his orgasm, still half-erect, clutching at the ropes—he knew what response seeing Zevran in such a state would pull from him.
Leaning forward, Zevran rubbed their sexes together, and Cadryn couldn't help himself, wanting to be a spectacle, grinding up against him when the opportunity came. And he just let go, carried away on a tide of sensation as Zevran had his way with him, all manner of incoherent cries issuing from him. He surfaced to a shattering climax, jerking at the ropes, Zevran buried inside of him, ”Zev!” tearing itself from his throat, fully voiced with all the volume he could muster. Zevran followed an instant later, leaning forward, grinding his teeth and then biting Cadryn's shoulder to stifle a similar cry.
He surfaced again to Zevran untying the ropes, laying soft kisses on the heels of his hands as if in apology. “That doesn't count,” Cadryn croaked, voice broken from yelling.
Looking down at him, Zevran made a curious noise, so Cadryn repeated, “That doesn't count. We're not in camp.”
Zevran laughed heartily, throwing back his head, laid another kiss against Cadryn's temple. “A technicality, my dear Warden.”
Grinning, Cadryn just said, “I can't win otherwise.”
Still chuckling, Zevran slid down to lie next to him, propping himself up on one elbow. “I propose this: we put it to a vote. I am confident our companions will declare me the winner after that lovely serenade of yours, if only to avoid a repeat performance.”
For the first time in recent memory Cadryn honestly blushed. “You win, then.”
“And I'll be sure to collect my prize in due time.”
---------------------------
How delightful, that moment of shared release—Zevran clawed at the blankets beneath him, head thrown back in a silent cry, as Cadryn roughly thrust in and stilled, hands clutching the elf's hips in a bruising grip, filling him, coming hard with a throaty gasp. Spent, Cadryn lowered his head to Zevran's shoulder with an moan, somewhere between satisfied and exasperated.
“Ah, do not despair, my dear Warden. That was much nearer than your previous attempts.” Zevran settled a hand at the base of Cadryn's spine, ran fingertips lightly up to the nape of his neck, twining them lightly in auburn hair.
“Its impossible,” Cadryn muttered into Zevran's shoulder. “Not that I don't enjoy trying.” Chuckling, Zevran drew his other hand up to give Cadryn's shoulder a squeeze.
They'd been at this for two weeks now, this contest, and one of them would inevitably fold. Zevran had the advantage, of course, confident that he could tease the most lascivious cries from his Warden at his leisure. He drew the contest out for selfish reasons: Cadryn, a healer by nature despite the intensity of his rare emotional outbursts, was a gentle lover. And this was novel, unique, and honestly Zevran liked it. He'd experienced all manner of fetishes and kinks in his life as a Crow, but never this sweetness, this emotional depth in lovemaking. It frightened him, this near transcendental connection to the Warden during their intimate entanglements, but drew him back, craving more as if some irresistible drug. That didn't mean that he wanted to abandon any of his old preferences, no, and this contest of theirs drew a harshness from the Warden that he missed and sometimes craved. And he had plans, after all.
Plans he decided to enact at Eamon's estate in Denerim just before the Landsmeet. When not plagued by taint-induced nightmares Cadryn was a deep sleeper, and Zevran very quiet and gentle in his preparations. He only worried about the plan for a moment, and braced himself to face a moment of genuine panic from the Warden. That would pass, of course, and would be worth it in the end.
So Cadryn woke in the night to soft kisses trailing up his jaw, a nip at one earlobe, trailing back down to the hollow of his collarbone. With a moan he stretched, hands moving down to trail across Zevran's back--
Cadryn's green eyes opened wide and starkly awake as his wrists met resistance, and he tried to move them again to be certain. Arms outstretched above him, hands very nearly tied together, just enough slack that he could tug in resistance before the ropes started to creak against the wooden backboard. He craned his head to get a look at the knots, but slender fingers gripped him on either cheek and forced his gaze in a certain direction, familiar lips claiming his. Cadryn very nearly responded in kind, but the pressure on his wrists and a spike of fear stilled him. Neither resisting the kiss nor participating, Cadryn just let that tongue slide past his lips, exploring. Past that initial forcefulness it faded into passion, and Cadryn felt himself responding in spite of the circumstances, in spite of the fear.
When Zevran drew away Cadryn tugged at the ropes again, panicking. “Zevran--”
Zevran hushed him with a less involved kiss. “My dear Warden, you are always in control of everything around you. You deprive yourself of so much in this. Submitting to another's whims, relinquishing that control, can be a release in itself.”
“Fine,” Cadryn said, tone clipped. Tugging at the ropes for emphasis, he continued, “Then untie me. I'll submit. Whatever you want.”
Zevran tutted at Cadryn, shaking his head. “You misunderstand. I have removed that choice for you. What do you expect?” Green eyes still regarded him with fear, wide and following his every move in a twitchy fashion. Leaning over Cadryn, stretching his own nude body to give Cadryn a better view—green eyes flicked down and back up briefly—Zevran tested the ropes. “So many associate these bindings with pain,” Zevran mused. “I expect you to find no pleasure in pain, and so I will not offer you that. What I want is to still your roaming hands, to force you to experience. You will have no distraction from any sensation as I am free to do what I please to you.” In spite of himself, Cadryn shuddered, Zevran's tone felt in the base of his spine, and Zevran's smirk broke into a genuine smile. “Ah, yes, that is a nice start.”
Zevran started in with the kisses again, moving down his neck, almost unconsciously brushing his length against Cadryn's with each motion, light touches, never quite satisfying. By the time Zevran gripped Cadryn's erection in one hand, running his tongue down the side and looking up with half-lidded eyes for Cadryn's reaction, Cadryn was already quivering, partly still in fear from having so little control, partly....
“Trust me,” Zevran murmured, and Cadryn did his best to relax. He felt so utterly helpless, and it felt wrong. He was a leader now, a hero, and being at anyone's mercy tore violently at his self-expectations. Closing his eyes, Cadryn took a deep breath, then another, trying to remind himself that this was his lover. And when a familiar warmth enveloped him Cadryn jerked against the restraints, sucked in a surprised breath as that wicked tongue began teasing. Unable to tangle his hands in Zevran's hair, Cadryn grit his teeth against the urge to thrust up, but eventually couldn't help himself. Anticipating this, Zevran used the motion to swallow his length.
Cadryn came embarrassingly fast, finally opening his eyes in time to meet Zevran's, briefly, before their lips met once more. With a flash of hope he realized that he could taste himself on Zevran's tongue, and so returned the kiss with ardent fervor, eliciting a little moan from his lover. Some modicum of control returned with the ability to invoke such a reaction in spite of his helplessness. Zevran broke the kiss off before Cadryn could do much with this new-found control, but the damage was already done. It wasn't about domination, but about Cadryn relinquishing control, if only for a moment. With Zevran's weight off him briefly Cadryn inched up on the bed, trying to get a little slack in the ropes.
“You look amazing like this.” Leaning back, Zevran's tongue flitted out to lick his lips before one hand trailed down across taut muscles and golden skin to fondle himself. And that was the greatest turn-on of all, the thought that in such a state he was a spectacle. It was one thing to make love to someone and know that they found you attractive, but another entirely to see this sort of response. It drove Cadryn to try and imagine himself from Zevran's perspective, how he must look here, flushed and panting from his orgasm, still half-erect, clutching at the ropes—he knew what response seeing Zevran in such a state would pull from him.
Leaning forward, Zevran rubbed their sexes together, and Cadryn couldn't help himself, wanting to be a spectacle, grinding up against him when the opportunity came. And he just let go, carried away on a tide of sensation as Zevran had his way with him, all manner of incoherent cries issuing from him. He surfaced to a shattering climax, jerking at the ropes, Zevran buried inside of him, ”Zev!” tearing itself from his throat, fully voiced with all the volume he could muster. Zevran followed an instant later, leaning forward, grinding his teeth and then biting Cadryn's shoulder to stifle a similar cry.
He surfaced again to Zevran untying the ropes, laying soft kisses on the heels of his hands as if in apology. “That doesn't count,” Cadryn croaked, voice broken from yelling.
Looking down at him, Zevran made a curious noise, so Cadryn repeated, “That doesn't count. We're not in camp.”
Zevran laughed heartily, throwing back his head, laid another kiss against Cadryn's temple. “A technicality, my dear Warden.”
Grinning, Cadryn just said, “I can't win otherwise.”
Still chuckling, Zevran slid down to lie next to him, propping himself up on one elbow. “I propose this: we put it to a vote. I am confident our companions will declare me the winner after that lovely serenade of yours, if only to avoid a repeat performance.”
For the first time in recent memory Cadryn honestly blushed. “You win, then.”
“And I'll be sure to collect my prize in due time.”