Rated: M for yaoi sechz
Yeah...I've been slacking terribly...so here's a little present.
This always happens. Always.
Considering his point of view, though, I guess it can't be helped. I'm always one step ahead, always better. He tries so hard, but he can't catch up. Although I know his failure is best for me, i can't help but feel bad. That's why this happens.
A man needs dignity. Mello needs dignity. He needs to feel in control.
I repeat this over and over again in my head as I sit in the middle of his dark brown sheets. 'It's for Mello. For his dignity. For his pride. For Mello. Just Mello.'
I can feel his presence as he walks into the room. He looks at me. I look away. My fingers raise to unbutton my shirt. This is our normal routine. I undress, 'it' happens, and then we're done. But, today he stops me. . .
"No, let me do it." He moves to sit in front of me, uncrosses my legs, and pulls me into his lap. He places his hands on my shoulders, then on the collar of my shirt. He begins to pull down.
Not again. He's going to rip my shirt off. He's going to be rough, sadistic. I hate when he gets like this. I turn my head to the side, once again, in case any buttons choose to pop off in my face when my shirt gets ripped away. I'm ready, but it never comes. I'm confused and I let one eye slide partially open.
He pulls my collar a little lower and stops. He pushes his lips to my collarbone, then runs his tongue up my neck. He's never done this. It's. . . different, wierd even. My eyes open fully. I can see him from the corner of my vision. He starts to unbutton my shirt, like he said he would do, as he sucks at the pulse in my neck. My shirt falls open and his hands are instantly all over me. They runs down my chest, to my stomach, then wrap themselves around the elastic band of my pajama pants. Usually, we're already half way done. I don't know why he's acting so different. Still, it's for Mello, so I must do it.
I can feel his palm against me as he drops it into my pants. He knows I'm not aroused. I don't do this for love. I do it so he can feel a pretense of control. His hands is now sliding, stroking me, as if I were his lover.
There's a bulge in his pants. I can feel it against my thigh. He keeps stroking me. I'm starting to get hard, but only a little. I don't like that at all. I want to grab his arms, and make him start before a reaction actually does occur, but I can't touch him. He'd like that too much. I force my mind to wonder to other things rather than the hand that's in my pants. I think about the Kira case. it doesn't work. Sexual stimulation works on anyone, no matter who it's done by. It's just the fact that I'm being touched. So tenderly. I can't help it. i gasp, and i feel him smirk. I grip the sheets behind me hard, and my shirt falls off my shoulders. He's quick to react.
His tongue works every inch of my chest, dashing from nipple to nipple until they're both hard. Hard. I'm almost 100 hard because of that stupid hand. He never touches me there. I hate the way my body's responding.
I glare at him. He stares right back. I know he can see through the false iciness. I know because of the stupid smile he has on him face, and the way he pushes me playfully off of his lap. I fall onto my back, my head propped up slightly by a beige pillow. He grabs the leg of my pants, and pulls them off of me. I'm looking down at him now.
He smiles at me again then pulls at the string holding his pants closed. His pants immediately open, and I realize that he's even harder than me.
He then reaches over me for the night stand and pulls a bottle of lotion from it. Once again, I'm ready for him to be his regular self, where he enters me without preperation. I'm used to the painful stretching feeling. But, instead of pushing his arousal into me, there's something smaller. Something slick. I look down again. It's his finger.
I can feel him stroking my inner walls, so delicately. I clench around his finger as he pushes it in farther, before pulling it out. My body's sweaty. It's really hot in here, even though I'm naked. The air around me is thick, and it makes my breathing hard.
I feel a little empty for a second, and I know that he's pulled his finger out of me. I watch him for his next move. He coats another finger in lotion, then pushes it, and the previous finger into me.
I know he wants me to touch him. i can tell by the way he's looking at me. I refuse to. I don't love him like that.
I can't help but jerk when he adds a third finger. I hope he didn't notice. He soothingly pats the inside of my leg. He noticed.
I seriously hate this. He's being so tender, not like his usual self. I actually sort of. . . l-like it. Not because it's Mello, but because it feels better than his usual sadist act. Yes, i know it's my fault. I let him do it. B-but not because I want it, it's because a-ah you know.
His fingers continue to move slowly in and out of me. It's not that comfortable, but it's not that painful either. I accidently let a groan out as he pushes him finger deep, hitting a certain spot.
My erection is throbbing hard now. I look at it, then to him. "M-Mello," My throat is dry and I can't believe I'm actually speaking out to him. He understands and pulls his fingers out. He laces them around me, and pumped softly as he fills my loosened entrance. He's thick than three fingers, but it doesn't hurt that bad. His body, along with the hand that's touching me stills when he's fully inside of me.
My thigh muscles twitch as he begins to move in and out of me slowly. He's almost barely moving compared to his normal breakneck speed. I'm so entranced by the feeling of his slower sex that I almost don't feel him start to touch me again.
He sits up on his knees and quickens his pace. I can't breathe. It's too hot. My body's too hot. He hits that spot in me once more, and it becomes impossibly hotter.
Aah, I've never felt like this before. At least, not with this intensity. My stomach, it feels like it's going to explode. my body's covered in sweat. It's painful, but for some reason. . . i want more.
A small whine escapes my throat as I look at Mello. He's panting harsly, much like myself. If he feels like me, he must be burning up in that leather vest.. I go against my morals, and grip hard on his biceps, and pull myself up, his thick heat still buried within me. I shakily unzip his vest, and he momentarily removes his hand from it's activities.
His vest is thrown somewhere across the room. I find myself staring at him, his face red and flustered, tiny beads of sweat rolling off the angles of his jaw. He's staring back. He's not moving at all at the moment. I fall back onto the bed again, too sweaty and hot to keep myself up. He's still staring. For a second, I wonder what he's thinking. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to catch my breath. When i open them again, his face is mere inches from mine.
His breath smells like chocolate. Chocolate. A natural aphrodisiac. I breathe it in. It smells so good.
He pushes his lips gently against mine. It's soft, almost like he's afraid he's going to hurt me, or something. That's right. This is me truly in control here. I do this for his dignity. He doesn't do this for me. I guess he becomes braver and he pushes against my lips harder. This is the first time he's ever kissed me. Well, during our 'routine', at least. There were always those small little pecks and brushes of lips in the orphanage, but that doesn't matter now.
He begins to move within me again, with a fierce speed. I try to breathe, but it's hard to. i open my mouth to attempt bring in much needed air, but his mouth is in my way. His tongue wriggles into my mouth, and rubs against my own tongue. I get small breaths of air as he slants his head between kisses.
You can hear the slapping of skin against skin as he pounds into me with ruthless abandon. An embarassing squeal sounds. Oh God. Was that me?
He's stopped kissing me. Probably because I wasn't kissing back. Now his lips are only pressed against mine. My mouth is dry from all of my panting, and i unconsciously lick my lips. My tongue moves across his bottom lip and he executes a particularly hard thrust. I can't help but like the way it feels, as he hits my prostate dead on. I push my tongue out again, hoping for the desired effect. This time, his mouth opens, and his toongue meets mine.
Now we're kissing. Not only is he kissing me, but for once, I'm kissing back. His mouth is so hot. I grab the back of his head, my fingers tangling in golden hair, and force it down, so i can kiss him harder, deeper, so good. He's moving impossibly fast, and it feels like my belly's on finre. I want to come. No I NEED to come.
I grip his shoulders and push him back until he's leaning back against the wall, and I'm on top, inpaled upon his cock. My legs automatically spread wider as I move by myself. I steady my body, my hands on his chest. With every movement down, his hips jut up to meet mine, with an amazing feeling.
His long slender fingers wrap around me again. His other hand travels around me, and is suddenly groping my backside. I feel his fingers force their way into me, as I come back down on him. I'm filled to the bursting point, it seems, and my brows furrow amidst the pain. His tongue slides up the side of my neck, and into my ear. He thrusts his tongue into with my downward driving, and it all becomes too much.
My hand flies down to wrap around his, quickening the pace. Out of nowhere, he squeezes he hard and groans deeply. Burning liquid sorches my insides, and slides down my thighs, making a squelching sound on every thrust. He kisses me hard. his teeth clanking against mine, and I scream in him mouth as I reach orgasm, the heat in my abdomen slowly receding.
His fingers slip out of me, and he wraps his arms around me as I lay on his chest, attempting to recover my breath. he brushes his lips across my forehead.
. . .and at times like this, I wonder is he really is in control.
Yay. Done. I know, I know. It kinda sucked. But OH WELLZ, i can deal.
So Chyeah, See Ya Laters!
Mello de Lioncourt