[John's free hand snakes down over Poe's chest, his belly, between his legs. He wraps his fingers around Poe's dick, squeezing, then goes lower. Uncoils the knot around Poe's balls, which gives him so slack to free the shaft of Poe's dick from its rope sheath.]
You're welcome.
[He kisses Poe's ear, soft, punctuated by the roll of his hips. Poe's everything, right now. There's nothing beyond the sound of his voice, warmth of his body, scent of his skin, or taste of his sweat. If a world exists outside of this room, it can wait. For once, John's focus isn't on the future, or the past. Only what's now, and who he's with.
John sees Poe's necklace from the corner of his eye, pressing his cheek against Poe's shoulder, rocking into him, slower, deeper, in time to the stroke of his hand. He doesn't just want Poe to come. He's already came, at least three times, by John's count. He wants him to fly. He doesn't know if he's skilled enough to make that happen, if he was strong enough, with the ropes, or himself, for Poe to really let go, but if he even gets close? John will consider it a win.
Poe always holds out for John to come first. Not this time. John rubs his thumb over the tip of Poe's dick, twisting the ropes in his other hand, pulling Poe harder, closer, against himself, adding pressure to every twist and knot.
Poe's trapped in John's web, on John's terms. His surrender is unconditional.]
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Date: 2018-04-01 01:58 am (UTC)You're welcome.
[He kisses Poe's ear, soft, punctuated by the roll of his hips. Poe's everything, right now. There's nothing beyond the sound of his voice, warmth of his body, scent of his skin, or taste of his sweat. If a world exists outside of this room, it can wait. For once, John's focus isn't on the future, or the past. Only what's now, and who he's with.
John sees Poe's necklace from the corner of his eye, pressing his cheek against Poe's shoulder, rocking into him, slower, deeper, in time to the stroke of his hand. He doesn't just want Poe to come. He's already came, at least three times, by John's count. He wants him to fly. He doesn't know if he's skilled enough to make that happen, if he was strong enough, with the ropes, or himself, for Poe to really let go, but if he even gets close? John will consider it a win.
Poe always holds out for John to come first. Not this time. John rubs his thumb over the tip of Poe's dick, twisting the ropes in his other hand, pulling Poe harder, closer, against himself, adding pressure to every twist and knot.
Poe's trapped in John's web, on John's terms. His surrender is unconditional.]
Come for me.