dalishstorm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dalishstorm) wrote2010-06-23 01:08 am
dalishstorm) wrote2010-06-23 01:08 am
Control Issues
Original prompt: The Warden is always in charge, always in control, and always giving orders. And s/he just wants (or is convinced), for one night, to give that up and let his/her lover take command... in bed of course! Zevran should be ordering the Warden to do things, but nothing humiliating/embarrassing. How much you play up the dom/sub aspect is up to you. Bonus points if the Warden is not too keen on the idea at first but really gets into it after being convinced to try it.
Warden choice is up to the filler, but anon has a preference for M!Mahariel and Amell of either gender. Also, no dwarves or Cousland please.
-------------------------------
At any other time, Zevran slipping into his study and sneaking up to trail a line of kisses down the back of Cadryn's neck would be welcome, the elf draping his arms over Cadryn's shoulders to caress through the fine fabric of his robes, warm breath on his ear, “Time for a break, my dear Warden,” a teasing nip at the top of his ear.
At any other time. His seneschal had come down with some awful illness not a week prior, and so all the work of maintaining Amaranthine fell to Cadryn once again. He reached up with one hand to cup Zevran's cheek, but didn't look away from the ledgers he was comparing. “Not now,” Cadryn muttered. “I'll be lucky to get this done in time to sleep tonight.”
But Zevran wasn't satisfied with that answer, leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek and traced the very edge of one half of his tattoos. “Must it be done now?”
“No.” Sighing in exasperation, Cadryn drew away, shaking off Zevran's embrace with a little less care than intended. “But I'm meeting with some of the Banns tomorrow and having it done would be useful. Being able to offer financial figures for how much it costs to maintain the Wardens versus the--” Zevran kissed him, or tried to, fingers trailing up his chin and tongue seeking entrance, but Cadryn wouldn't have any of it, jerking away again and pushing Zevran back with a hand on his chest. “Are you listening? I don't have time for this.”
Zevran withdrew, and so Cadryn went back to his work, assuming the not-quite-argument over, at least until Zevran stopped directly opposite the desk from him, arms akimbo, hips canted in a very haughty but alluring posture. “My friend,” he began, head tilted forward ever so slightly, amber eyes deathly serious, maybe even a little angry. “I think perhaps in all your time alone you have forgotten a valuable lesson learned during the Blight.” Cadryn only glanced up to take in Zevran's posture, his expression, and while it always upset him to see Zevran angry he was somehow even more attractive, a smoldering fire, a snake about to strike, handsome in a terrifying way, and it stirred more than a little lust in the mage.
Focus, and Cadryn went back to his work, but Zevran would have none of it, starting at one end of the desk and sweeping everything off it in one swift motion. Of course, Cadryn bolted to his feet, drawing to his full height to look down on the elf, shouted, “Andraste's ass, Zevran! What was that? Do I pick the locks on your doors and sneak into your rooms and wreck your poisons lab when you don't immediately go bottoms-up for a hard fucking?”
Before Cadryn even registered that Zevran was moving, the Antivan had a fistful of his robes, jerked him forward so forcefully that Cadryn's thighs banged hard against the edge of the desk, kissed him. In his surprise Cadryn responded, too shocked to do much more than gape at Zevran's behavior. Zevran somehow got enough leverage to drag him down onto the desk, twisting as they fell, and when Zevran swung a leg over to straddle him Cadryn started fighting back again, bucking to throw Zevran off.
Laughing, Zevran drew away. “You see? I know what's good for you. You should listen to me more often.”
“Zevran,” Cadryn snarled. “I don't want to hurt you. But--”
Leaning in again, Zevran fisted a hand in Cadryn's hair, jerked his head down so it banged against the desk just hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to bruise. “Do you remember the night in Eamon's estate when I tied you down?” Zevran kept perfect eye contact, pinning Cadryn with his intensity as much as with his body. “How you begged for me to stop, to keep going, to do anything? How I had my way with you?” Cadryn shuddered beneath him, eyes drifting closed for an instant, so Zevran applied just a little pressure with his hips, just a taste, a promise. “I think perhaps you have forgotten what I can do to you, do for you.”
Mouth suddenly dry, Cadryn tried to speak, for a moment couldn't find his voice, but eventually managed, “When you put it that way, I suppose--”
A dark chuckle cut him off. “You suppose?” Zevran straightened, sitting up properly, but it shifted his weight against Cadryn's growing hardness and the mage just managed to bite back a groan. “You rebuffed me so firmly earlier, mi amore, I think perhaps I will require some demonstration of your desire.”
“Please,” Cadryn groaned, rolling his head to the side. “Don't play--”
A single finger to his lips silenced Cadryn, and the other hand brought his gaze back up. “You were about to say something foolish, my dear Warden. But that was a good start. Shall we begin again?”
“Please.”
“Good,” Zevran said, face schooled in careful thought but mirth betrayed by his eyes. “That is a good start, again. But please what? What is it your are begging for?”
“I want you.”
Shaking his head, Zevran tsked. “While I am certain I know what you mean, there is still some doubt. Could you perhaps spell it out for me?”
Cadryn made a noise of frustration, one that reverberated in his chest, so strong that Zevran even felt it where he straddled the mage's hips. “Fuck me.”
“Hm, that sounded like an order. And is just a little too to the point, I think. No, I need some more sincere demonstration, I believe.”
Finally, Cadryn sighed in exasperation, relaxed against the desk. “What do you want me to do?”
Gesturing down to the lacing on his leathers, Zevran said, “Firstly, this will have to go.” So Cadryn dutifully unlaced them, laying careless caresses as he did so. He peeled everything back and down just far enough to expose Zevran, to pull him out half-hard, wrapped one hand around the shaft. “Now, what was it you said to me in the hall a few days ago, when you were so eager to have me in your mouth? Ah, I believe it was, 'I'm Arl, I'll do what I please.' Well, Arl, it would please me to see a repeat performance.”
Zevran moved up until he was straddling Cadryn's chest just beneath the shoulders, and Cadryn reached around to work his off hand under the back of Zevran's shirt, to urge the elf forward. It was a slightly awkward position, Cadryn craning his neck up to bring first just the head to his mouth, laying sucking kisses and teasing licks in the most sensitive places. Zevran offered some support by digging his fingers into Cadryn's hair, grabbing a handful around back and applying a gentle pressure. “You should not have cut this.” Zevran ran his other hand through auburn hair, a tender gesture. “It looks good, but I can't get a sure hold.”
Cadryn glanced up at him, but said nothing, instead finally taking Zevran into his mouth, removing his hand from Zevran's shaft to grip the Antivan's left hip, pulling him a little closer still, until Zevran had to hunch over and plant his free hand against the desk. Awkward as the position was, it was good, somehow more intimate. This wasn't about controlling Cadryn, after all, not about domination or power play, but seeing him willingly surrender, setting aside his self control for a moment. It was the trust implied in the act, something Zevran had never hoped to gain after his assassination attempt and during his awkward face-first tumble into love with this man. That, and having Cadryn so senseless that he didn't know which way was up, just that he wanted more, those were the goals.
Cadryn took him in as far as possible with the awkward angle, still teasing with his tongue as he went, and with an appreciative moan Zevran said, “This is one thing you have not forgotten, at least.”
Zevran felt the amused hum in response all along his length, and Cadryn began to work him in earnest. The human was a little too eager, though, and Zevran feared he might not last long, all this build up leaving him as ready as Cadryn clearly was. Zevran drew away just as Cadryn reached the peak of his momentum, leaving a trail of moisture across the Warden's lips. “Zev?” He looked confused, perhaps even a little hurt.
Carefully, Zevran dismounted the table, keeping himself firmly in hand, and said, “Off with your robes.”
Much as Zevran wanted to unlace them himself, watching Cadryn do it while under the strain of anticipation, skin flushed and eyes locked on where Zevran had himself firmly in hand was somehow more tantilizing. For Cadryn it was that sensation of being a spectacle again, of being enough in sight alone to stir Zevran's desire, and he was shrugging out of his robes in short order, leaving them draped across the desk. Hands went to his smallclothes, but didn't remove them until Zevran nodded his assent.
“Touch yourself,” Zevran ordered, and Cadryn complied, keeping his eyes on Zevran the entire time, strong fingers wrapping around his girth and starting in on long, slow strokes, making a show of the motion and skin gliding across skin. This he had missed, the sight of Cadryn in such a state, and now that he had it again he didn't think he could ever drink in enough, all these little physical cues of their mutual desire and affection. “Harder.” A little twitch from Cadryn as he obeyed, and Zevran wasn't sure if it was the command or hearing the loss of control in Zevran's voice, that it was turning husky.
Approaching again, Zevran kissed the mage, let his hands wander, even briefly putting a hand over Cadryn's as he worked himself, controlling the pace and grip a little more directly. When Cadryn reached out with his free hand to touch Zevran in kind, the elf stopped him, muttered, “Not yet,” against Cadryn's skin.
Zevran got the mage uncomfortably close to release, then pulled Cadryn's hands away, out to the sides, gripped at the wrists. “Zev,” he begged, pleading just as emphatically with his eyes. Zevran just kissed him softly on one cheek, barely missing the bottom curl of the man's tattoos.
“Wait for me,” Zevran whispered, and then left Cadryn lying there for a moment, the man whimpering involuntarily at the loss of contact and even thrusting up a little, hands clenching to keep from reaching out for a caress of flesh.
Zevran shucked off his shirt on the way out of Cadryn's study, every motion calculated to tantilize, as he could feel the man's eyes on him, hungry and wanting. There was only one other room of consequence in the Warden's apartments: his bedroom. And Zevran found what he sought with ease, the little bottle of oil easily accessible (the Warden had learned his lesson early on). Zevran found a stray sash from a set of mage's robes as well, and on a whim took it, carefully folding it as he went.
Cadryn was laying exactly as Zevran had left him, arms outstretched and fists clenched, body just drawing back from the edge, but now his eyes were tightly shut—likely trying to not touch himself in Zevran's absence. So Zevran started in kissing him gently, touching him insistently again, and Cadryn moaned into his mouth, which was a sure sign the man was ready.
Pulling him up into a sitting position, Zevran set about slowly shuffling them around until they were both standing, Cadryn leaning against the desk while Zevran continued his slow attentions, using them as a distraction as he tied the man's wrists together with the folded sash. When the elf ran his lips along a heavy collarbone, Cadryn gasped, “Please,” voice almost pained.
Zevran jerked on the sash like a leash, finally drawing Cadryn's attention to it, then moved nimbly across the desk, giving just enough slack so Cadryn could follow his command of, “Down,” before the leash pulled truly taught. Zevran ducked briefly to tie off the free end underneath the desk, tethering him in place.
“Zev?” Always with that worried tone in his voice when something like this happened, always making Zevran doubt for a moment.
“Amore,” Zevran murmured, stroking his hair soothingly, looking up into green eyes for a moment. “You need only say the word, and I will stop.”
“Never stop.”
Zevran took those words from his lips with a kiss, tangling both hands in what remained of the man's hair (there was just enough to grip now), and when they drew apart stood, presenting himself to the mage's mouth again. “Zev,” he groaned. “Please. Just--”
“I could leave you here like this,” Zevran said, looking down at the Warden with a wicked gleam in his eyes, just the faintest hint of a smile. “Stretched so lewdly across the desk, left wanting, for someone to discover in the morning.”
“You wouldn't.”
Quirking an eyebrow down at him, as Cadryn strained to look up and make eye contact, Zevran's smile only widened. “I wouldn't?” When Cadryn didn't rise to the bait, Zevran said, “You are very right. But I might simply take my pleasure of you and leave you to take matters into your own hands, as it were.”
“No. Whatever you want.” Cadryn strained against the bonds, trying to reach out for Zevran. “I need you.”
And from the way he sucked when presented with Zevran's hardness again Zevran believed it--need was the only word that could describe such a state, the dedication there, the complete attention in his ministrations. And the sight of him stretched so lasciviously across the desk—Zevran grew too near too soon, pulled Cadryn away a little more roughly than intended.
He was not as gentle in his preparations as usual, and wondered briefly which of them was really in control here, for the man who was tied up to have him fumbling and harsh and far too eager to be inside of him, to find a shared release. Cadryn's response to Zevran's rough manner in slicking and stretching him was to simply lean into the treatment, biting back a sound half-pain/half-pleasure.
Zevran slid himself fully in with one stroke, and Cadryn managed a breathy, “Finally,” full of sarcasm, almost as if he'd been saving up the will and energy for it. So Zevran made sure to set a quick pace and aim true, to keep Cadryn breathless and moaning instead of snarking. When Zevran finally came, too soon for his liking but at the same time not soon enough, it was intense, near to blinding, but he rode it out, trying to bring Cadryn to climax before before he finished, reaching around and taking the other man's hardness in hand to jerk him to completion. Cadryn joined him with a cry, sagging against the desk as his knees gave out, and Zevran pressed himself to the larger man's back, strangely exhausted, seeking strength in that contact.
There were a handful of moments Zevran treasured between them, moments he felt embodied their relationship in a single phrase or gesture. The needful look and sound around, ”Never stop.” was surely one of them—Cadryn had meant more than this physical thing between them.
Once he had some presence of mind Cadryn mumbled beneath him, “Zevran?”
“Si, amore?”
“These were some of my best robes.”
And now the fine silk beneath them was surely covered in the mage's release, ruined without careful work that Cadryn would surely leave no other to—Zevran laughed softly, cheek pressed against his back. “I have a reputation to keep, yes?”
Warden choice is up to the filler, but anon has a preference for M!Mahariel and Amell of either gender. Also, no dwarves or Cousland please.
-------------------------------
At any other time, Zevran slipping into his study and sneaking up to trail a line of kisses down the back of Cadryn's neck would be welcome, the elf draping his arms over Cadryn's shoulders to caress through the fine fabric of his robes, warm breath on his ear, “Time for a break, my dear Warden,” a teasing nip at the top of his ear.
At any other time. His seneschal had come down with some awful illness not a week prior, and so all the work of maintaining Amaranthine fell to Cadryn once again. He reached up with one hand to cup Zevran's cheek, but didn't look away from the ledgers he was comparing. “Not now,” Cadryn muttered. “I'll be lucky to get this done in time to sleep tonight.”
But Zevran wasn't satisfied with that answer, leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek and traced the very edge of one half of his tattoos. “Must it be done now?”
“No.” Sighing in exasperation, Cadryn drew away, shaking off Zevran's embrace with a little less care than intended. “But I'm meeting with some of the Banns tomorrow and having it done would be useful. Being able to offer financial figures for how much it costs to maintain the Wardens versus the--” Zevran kissed him, or tried to, fingers trailing up his chin and tongue seeking entrance, but Cadryn wouldn't have any of it, jerking away again and pushing Zevran back with a hand on his chest. “Are you listening? I don't have time for this.”
Zevran withdrew, and so Cadryn went back to his work, assuming the not-quite-argument over, at least until Zevran stopped directly opposite the desk from him, arms akimbo, hips canted in a very haughty but alluring posture. “My friend,” he began, head tilted forward ever so slightly, amber eyes deathly serious, maybe even a little angry. “I think perhaps in all your time alone you have forgotten a valuable lesson learned during the Blight.” Cadryn only glanced up to take in Zevran's posture, his expression, and while it always upset him to see Zevran angry he was somehow even more attractive, a smoldering fire, a snake about to strike, handsome in a terrifying way, and it stirred more than a little lust in the mage.
Focus, and Cadryn went back to his work, but Zevran would have none of it, starting at one end of the desk and sweeping everything off it in one swift motion. Of course, Cadryn bolted to his feet, drawing to his full height to look down on the elf, shouted, “Andraste's ass, Zevran! What was that? Do I pick the locks on your doors and sneak into your rooms and wreck your poisons lab when you don't immediately go bottoms-up for a hard fucking?”
Before Cadryn even registered that Zevran was moving, the Antivan had a fistful of his robes, jerked him forward so forcefully that Cadryn's thighs banged hard against the edge of the desk, kissed him. In his surprise Cadryn responded, too shocked to do much more than gape at Zevran's behavior. Zevran somehow got enough leverage to drag him down onto the desk, twisting as they fell, and when Zevran swung a leg over to straddle him Cadryn started fighting back again, bucking to throw Zevran off.
Laughing, Zevran drew away. “You see? I know what's good for you. You should listen to me more often.”
“Zevran,” Cadryn snarled. “I don't want to hurt you. But--”
Leaning in again, Zevran fisted a hand in Cadryn's hair, jerked his head down so it banged against the desk just hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to bruise. “Do you remember the night in Eamon's estate when I tied you down?” Zevran kept perfect eye contact, pinning Cadryn with his intensity as much as with his body. “How you begged for me to stop, to keep going, to do anything? How I had my way with you?” Cadryn shuddered beneath him, eyes drifting closed for an instant, so Zevran applied just a little pressure with his hips, just a taste, a promise. “I think perhaps you have forgotten what I can do to you, do for you.”
Mouth suddenly dry, Cadryn tried to speak, for a moment couldn't find his voice, but eventually managed, “When you put it that way, I suppose--”
A dark chuckle cut him off. “You suppose?” Zevran straightened, sitting up properly, but it shifted his weight against Cadryn's growing hardness and the mage just managed to bite back a groan. “You rebuffed me so firmly earlier, mi amore, I think perhaps I will require some demonstration of your desire.”
“Please,” Cadryn groaned, rolling his head to the side. “Don't play--”
A single finger to his lips silenced Cadryn, and the other hand brought his gaze back up. “You were about to say something foolish, my dear Warden. But that was a good start. Shall we begin again?”
“Please.”
“Good,” Zevran said, face schooled in careful thought but mirth betrayed by his eyes. “That is a good start, again. But please what? What is it your are begging for?”
“I want you.”
Shaking his head, Zevran tsked. “While I am certain I know what you mean, there is still some doubt. Could you perhaps spell it out for me?”
Cadryn made a noise of frustration, one that reverberated in his chest, so strong that Zevran even felt it where he straddled the mage's hips. “Fuck me.”
“Hm, that sounded like an order. And is just a little too to the point, I think. No, I need some more sincere demonstration, I believe.”
Finally, Cadryn sighed in exasperation, relaxed against the desk. “What do you want me to do?”
Gesturing down to the lacing on his leathers, Zevran said, “Firstly, this will have to go.” So Cadryn dutifully unlaced them, laying careless caresses as he did so. He peeled everything back and down just far enough to expose Zevran, to pull him out half-hard, wrapped one hand around the shaft. “Now, what was it you said to me in the hall a few days ago, when you were so eager to have me in your mouth? Ah, I believe it was, 'I'm Arl, I'll do what I please.' Well, Arl, it would please me to see a repeat performance.”
Zevran moved up until he was straddling Cadryn's chest just beneath the shoulders, and Cadryn reached around to work his off hand under the back of Zevran's shirt, to urge the elf forward. It was a slightly awkward position, Cadryn craning his neck up to bring first just the head to his mouth, laying sucking kisses and teasing licks in the most sensitive places. Zevran offered some support by digging his fingers into Cadryn's hair, grabbing a handful around back and applying a gentle pressure. “You should not have cut this.” Zevran ran his other hand through auburn hair, a tender gesture. “It looks good, but I can't get a sure hold.”
Cadryn glanced up at him, but said nothing, instead finally taking Zevran into his mouth, removing his hand from Zevran's shaft to grip the Antivan's left hip, pulling him a little closer still, until Zevran had to hunch over and plant his free hand against the desk. Awkward as the position was, it was good, somehow more intimate. This wasn't about controlling Cadryn, after all, not about domination or power play, but seeing him willingly surrender, setting aside his self control for a moment. It was the trust implied in the act, something Zevran had never hoped to gain after his assassination attempt and during his awkward face-first tumble into love with this man. That, and having Cadryn so senseless that he didn't know which way was up, just that he wanted more, those were the goals.
Cadryn took him in as far as possible with the awkward angle, still teasing with his tongue as he went, and with an appreciative moan Zevran said, “This is one thing you have not forgotten, at least.”
Zevran felt the amused hum in response all along his length, and Cadryn began to work him in earnest. The human was a little too eager, though, and Zevran feared he might not last long, all this build up leaving him as ready as Cadryn clearly was. Zevran drew away just as Cadryn reached the peak of his momentum, leaving a trail of moisture across the Warden's lips. “Zev?” He looked confused, perhaps even a little hurt.
Carefully, Zevran dismounted the table, keeping himself firmly in hand, and said, “Off with your robes.”
Much as Zevran wanted to unlace them himself, watching Cadryn do it while under the strain of anticipation, skin flushed and eyes locked on where Zevran had himself firmly in hand was somehow more tantilizing. For Cadryn it was that sensation of being a spectacle again, of being enough in sight alone to stir Zevran's desire, and he was shrugging out of his robes in short order, leaving them draped across the desk. Hands went to his smallclothes, but didn't remove them until Zevran nodded his assent.
“Touch yourself,” Zevran ordered, and Cadryn complied, keeping his eyes on Zevran the entire time, strong fingers wrapping around his girth and starting in on long, slow strokes, making a show of the motion and skin gliding across skin. This he had missed, the sight of Cadryn in such a state, and now that he had it again he didn't think he could ever drink in enough, all these little physical cues of their mutual desire and affection. “Harder.” A little twitch from Cadryn as he obeyed, and Zevran wasn't sure if it was the command or hearing the loss of control in Zevran's voice, that it was turning husky.
Approaching again, Zevran kissed the mage, let his hands wander, even briefly putting a hand over Cadryn's as he worked himself, controlling the pace and grip a little more directly. When Cadryn reached out with his free hand to touch Zevran in kind, the elf stopped him, muttered, “Not yet,” against Cadryn's skin.
Zevran got the mage uncomfortably close to release, then pulled Cadryn's hands away, out to the sides, gripped at the wrists. “Zev,” he begged, pleading just as emphatically with his eyes. Zevran just kissed him softly on one cheek, barely missing the bottom curl of the man's tattoos.
“Wait for me,” Zevran whispered, and then left Cadryn lying there for a moment, the man whimpering involuntarily at the loss of contact and even thrusting up a little, hands clenching to keep from reaching out for a caress of flesh.
Zevran shucked off his shirt on the way out of Cadryn's study, every motion calculated to tantilize, as he could feel the man's eyes on him, hungry and wanting. There was only one other room of consequence in the Warden's apartments: his bedroom. And Zevran found what he sought with ease, the little bottle of oil easily accessible (the Warden had learned his lesson early on). Zevran found a stray sash from a set of mage's robes as well, and on a whim took it, carefully folding it as he went.
Cadryn was laying exactly as Zevran had left him, arms outstretched and fists clenched, body just drawing back from the edge, but now his eyes were tightly shut—likely trying to not touch himself in Zevran's absence. So Zevran started in kissing him gently, touching him insistently again, and Cadryn moaned into his mouth, which was a sure sign the man was ready.
Pulling him up into a sitting position, Zevran set about slowly shuffling them around until they were both standing, Cadryn leaning against the desk while Zevran continued his slow attentions, using them as a distraction as he tied the man's wrists together with the folded sash. When the elf ran his lips along a heavy collarbone, Cadryn gasped, “Please,” voice almost pained.
Zevran jerked on the sash like a leash, finally drawing Cadryn's attention to it, then moved nimbly across the desk, giving just enough slack so Cadryn could follow his command of, “Down,” before the leash pulled truly taught. Zevran ducked briefly to tie off the free end underneath the desk, tethering him in place.
“Zev?” Always with that worried tone in his voice when something like this happened, always making Zevran doubt for a moment.
“Amore,” Zevran murmured, stroking his hair soothingly, looking up into green eyes for a moment. “You need only say the word, and I will stop.”
“Never stop.”
Zevran took those words from his lips with a kiss, tangling both hands in what remained of the man's hair (there was just enough to grip now), and when they drew apart stood, presenting himself to the mage's mouth again. “Zev,” he groaned. “Please. Just--”
“I could leave you here like this,” Zevran said, looking down at the Warden with a wicked gleam in his eyes, just the faintest hint of a smile. “Stretched so lewdly across the desk, left wanting, for someone to discover in the morning.”
“You wouldn't.”
Quirking an eyebrow down at him, as Cadryn strained to look up and make eye contact, Zevran's smile only widened. “I wouldn't?” When Cadryn didn't rise to the bait, Zevran said, “You are very right. But I might simply take my pleasure of you and leave you to take matters into your own hands, as it were.”
“No. Whatever you want.” Cadryn strained against the bonds, trying to reach out for Zevran. “I need you.”
And from the way he sucked when presented with Zevran's hardness again Zevran believed it--need was the only word that could describe such a state, the dedication there, the complete attention in his ministrations. And the sight of him stretched so lasciviously across the desk—Zevran grew too near too soon, pulled Cadryn away a little more roughly than intended.
He was not as gentle in his preparations as usual, and wondered briefly which of them was really in control here, for the man who was tied up to have him fumbling and harsh and far too eager to be inside of him, to find a shared release. Cadryn's response to Zevran's rough manner in slicking and stretching him was to simply lean into the treatment, biting back a sound half-pain/half-pleasure.
Zevran slid himself fully in with one stroke, and Cadryn managed a breathy, “Finally,” full of sarcasm, almost as if he'd been saving up the will and energy for it. So Zevran made sure to set a quick pace and aim true, to keep Cadryn breathless and moaning instead of snarking. When Zevran finally came, too soon for his liking but at the same time not soon enough, it was intense, near to blinding, but he rode it out, trying to bring Cadryn to climax before before he finished, reaching around and taking the other man's hardness in hand to jerk him to completion. Cadryn joined him with a cry, sagging against the desk as his knees gave out, and Zevran pressed himself to the larger man's back, strangely exhausted, seeking strength in that contact.
There were a handful of moments Zevran treasured between them, moments he felt embodied their relationship in a single phrase or gesture. The needful look and sound around, ”Never stop.” was surely one of them—Cadryn had meant more than this physical thing between them.
Once he had some presence of mind Cadryn mumbled beneath him, “Zevran?”
“Si, amore?”
“These were some of my best robes.”
And now the fine silk beneath them was surely covered in the mage's release, ruined without careful work that Cadryn would surely leave no other to—Zevran laughed softly, cheek pressed against his back. “I have a reputation to keep, yes?”