[ it feels good to have no other social barriers between them, not even ones of Louis' own making, instead they have the full pleasure of each other's company. Will rides him like he always seemed like he wanted to in their brief meetings and partings on the Charadrius, held back by both Louis' position and his own (rightful) caution. there's nothing holding the king back now – he has Louis fully, he's now anointed and crowned, and the danger has long passed. Louis finds his breath matching Will's pace as he bounces above him, finding the right rhythm to pleasure them both.
to anchor him, Louis takes his wrists gently, firmly, and holds him steady with one hand. if Will wishes to lose himself in abandon, Louis is inclined to help, as there is a beauty in Will's wilds. it's something Louis always found himself waiting for: Will to cut lose, to drown in pleasure. ]
Can you be good a little longer?
[ his voice is a quiet purr, low in the room around them. ]
Just a little longer. Good ...
[ the heat is rising, and he can feel the warmth pool in his belly, along the wet friction of where they're meeting. Will isn't the only one holding back, as Louis makes an attempt to starve off his orgasm for a little longer to see the way Will's face shifts with pleasure: low eyelids and parted lips, and small, desperate gasps.
he runs his palm from his hip to his rear, as if a sort of gentle coaxing will somehow give him what he wants. ]
[ It's so much. Almost too much. The overload of sensations, Louis's thick cock hilting again and again and again inside of Will, their wild, mingled breaths, the delicious, mad pleasure of claiming his consort — Louis's voice saying, over and over again, that he's good, intoning soft directions that are easy to follow... yes, the more he moves his hips, the more Louis will say he's good.
What could be better than this? There is nothing, nothing about Will that is not bared before Louis in this moment: his nude body, the unabashed pleasure on his face, his half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust, lips parted, heedless of how he looks. His little gasps, his desperate moans — this bounty of little treasures is all for Louis, and now they can both bask in the thrill of losing themselves to glorious ecstasy — ]
[ His consort's voice only heightens Will's pleasure, the grip around his wrists only heightens Will's pleasure, but — it's that single touch, that damnably gentle stroke from his hip to his rear that really sends Will crashing over the edge. He gives in, coming harder than before, seized by an orgasm so potent that it's almost dizzying; he has to collapse against Louis's chest as his body seizes up while he comes, twitching and shuddering richly, with even more intensity than before. He's shaking all through the come-down, panting against Louis's skin, trembling through his thighs.
Oh... if the sex they have is this good every time, Will might be well and truly ruined. ]
[ each breath is paced with Will's movements, steady to make certain he does not release before his king is finished. there's really something lovely about seeing Will like this, unhinged and drowning in his own pleasure, extending the soft curves of his body as if he was swept up in passionate dance. the friction is sweet in contrast to the sting of his neck, both sending a swell of pleasure each time Will drops his hips. there's a little bounce in his hair as it frames his cheeks, soft silver threads that are prone to waves as they get longer, in a mesmerizing movement.
Will loses himself a little further, and Louis feels the hitch in his loins, and the warmth that spreads over his thighs. the wait was worth it, all to see Will shudder and moan and ride him until he's exhausted. through his desire-fueled haze, Louis thinks that he may be able to stay hard for the next round he knows Will is going to want after this. that is, until Will comes, and his insides tighten around him, and in an instant that blindsides him, he releases with an uncharacteristic gasp, filling up his king again with a few pumps. ]
Hah ...
[ he sucks in a breath, steadying Will as he steadies himself. the hand that had cupped his rear slides down to his trembling thighs, either to still him or even enjoy the byproduct of his own making. ]
I don't believe I've ever exhausted you this much. A new victory, perhaps.
[ he talks as if he's testing if he can still speak, to his surprise he can. ]
[ It's so, so satisfying — the rush, the sheer ecstasy, the explosion of feelings that Will could mistake for love if he did not already know in his heart that he is already in love, he's deeply in love, he's lost in the throes of it, a love so deep and overwhelming and all-encompassing that it can erase the countless sins and flaws of his beloved. His beloved, now his husband, wedded in the eyes of god and state. What could be better than this?
Will loses himself to pleasure and he feels Louis lose himself to pleasure and it's impossibly satisfying, impossibly good. He has a sudden and overwhelming suspicion that this is what he's going to chase for the rest of his life, the high of this, the adrenaline, the hit. Louis underneath him, looking so impossibly beautiful, goading him on. He feels the slick wetness between his legs and shudders, moving just slightly, as if his furtive movements could draw it out, give him more, give him more and more and more — ]
I... could say... the same for you...
[ Breathless, Will places one delicate hand on Louis's cheek, framing his face lovingly, the same way Louis's careful fingers are resting on his plush thigh. He feels so triumphant. Like he's finally won. Even on the evening of his coronation, he didn't feel this glorious, this free. What he'd felt then was the solemn knowledge that his country was his birthright and that he would do right by his people. But this, this is for him. That Louis is still alive at all is the product of his own selfishness. This journey was his coming-of-age, and Louis, Louis is his prize for the taking — ]
That was so good...
[ Sultry and breathless, like some succubus from the legends of the ancients, Will giggles, half-drunk on the satisfaction of his orgasm. He's surprised he can still talk, too. He feels dizzy, heady, almost sick with love. ]
I want to see you like this... over and over and over again...
[ they'd both been waiting long enough that Louis almost thought that Will would explode from the tension. in some ways he would've liked to see that, but Will had shown admirable will power throughout their courting, that Louis had to respect it. he gets his prize now, though, all of his prize as much as he wants to indulge, and if anyone deserves the full extent of that sort of indulgence, it's Will. he worked long and hard for this: saved the world, brought Louis back, then allowed him the space to make a decision for himself. at any point it could have gone to an unsalvageable point, but Will earnestly kept his hopes.
and here they were.
it was infectious in some way, Will's bright personality, and being around him so much has made Louis notice that his more nihilistic tendencies didn't feel so heavy. his mood didn't feel so dark. the prospect of affection, the willingness to give it, and Will's non-judgement made him more comfortable with himself in the world than he ever thought he'd be. ]
You've plenty of years to do so, in light of the ceremony.
[ a joke, kind of, and Louis seems to find himself amusing. ]
I'll have to be certain to train myself to maintain some level of victory, 'less you win all the time.
[ and Louis can't have that.
one of his arms loops under Will's elbow and around his waist, resting there for his king to catch his breath. after a moment of his chest rising and falling, he centers himself and pushes himself up on an arm, taking Will upright with him. ]
[ Louis does think he's very amusing, doesn't he? But Will sort of likes that about him; he likes the sense of humor, the boyishness still lingering around the man who often seems as though he had to grow up too quickly. He likes the way that Louis, despite everything, cradles him so gently as he sits up, taking them both with him.
The movement jostles Will, who seems sleepy (temporarily) in the wake of his orgasm; he laughs without the energy or breath to do it, humming faintly against Louis's chest as his body is moved. He has the wherewithal, at least, to trace the shape of a heart with his finger against Louis's chest, right to the side of where his blackened heart still sits. ]
Mmhmhm... where are we going?
[ We, he says, because like hell he'll even let Louis out of this bed for even a moment without also going with him. Well, maybe if it's just to grab some water to drink... ]
[ with the cum and sweat between them, Will kind of sticks to him. it reminds him of the light adhesive meant to stick the top page of a book into the cover, especially when the corners curl up slightly. Will even sticks a little bit when he sits up, pressed up against his chest and at ready to coax Louis back into bed if he must. ]
You're quite demanding, and I'm feeling parched.
[ he did give quite a lot of his fluids to Will, and he's certain Will will want more by the end of the night. ]
For a brief moment, you'll have to allow me some freedom to quench it, hm? 'Less you plan to fall into slumber before our nuptials are adequately consummated.
[ Will is looking droopy, his body recovering from a few good bouts of play certainly has sunk into his bones. they have quite a bit to make up for in their time apart (Will moreso, who had months without him before he brought him back).
yet Louis does not rise, not yet, giving Will a bit more time to stick to him before he gets up. ]
[ Will is droopy, and he greatly enjoyed his dose of Louis's fluids. At the same time, he is still a reasonable young man, and he will relent if it means allowing his sticky, sexy husband a moment to get some water.
Well. "Relent." What Will actually does is this: he lolls against Louis's chest a moment longer, happily sticky — then he lolls down to his husband's breast and gives it a good lick.
Mmm... Louis salts.
Summarily satisfied (?) (...what was that?) (???), Will rolls off of Louis's body and into the bed, a little giggly and silly for it. ]
Delicious Louis...
[ Evidently, the great Count Louis Guiabern has been satisfactorily marinated to the king's pleasure. ]
[ it's a small reprieve, as he's certain Will get his next wind shortly, but enough for him to get some much needed water. the king — the King of Euchronia – licks his tit and then rolls over in boyish giggles. Louis rests a hand on his head and smooths back his messy hair, suddenly, and oddly, realizing that he's never had many moments like this. when was the last time when he was buried in affection enough to leave someone drunk in his company?
Louis slides toward the end of the bed, getting to his feet and giving Will an eyeful of what he never got when they coupled on the Charadrius (but did get in their last battle together). no matter how much of a mess Louis is, he never looks anything but elegant, even the red little marks look good on his collar, a contrast to his pale skin. he wears them like jewelry that hangs just above his black heart as he reaches for the closest robe at the bedside, tying it around his waist and stepping across the room to where a thoughtful servant has placed a pitcher and goblets. there's discarded clothing all over that he carelessly steps over, as if they'll never need them again.
he can observe Will from the table placement, the king stretched out over the sheets, tousled as if he's been in a good fight, slim and nude and slightly shiny from fluids. certainly, he could get used to this. sometimes he feels like a feral animal within a cage of a grand castle, but in this bedroom Will is his – all his, and the two of them are as equal as they are on the battlefield. instead of heading back right away, he admires his new husband and drinks his water as if it were fine wine.
gently, he says: ]
Turn over.
[ it's not exactly a command, but a sort of quiet curiosity, just to see what every side of Will may look like as he is now. ]
[ An eyeful, indeed. Will relishes that eyeful of Louis's assets, leering openly at his new husband as he walks away to fetch some water; in return, Louis turns around and enjoys Will's assets in turn, sipping at his water with the heady confidence of a man more accustomed to harder spirits. The king likes the way he's being admired. He likes knowing that Louis is taking in the way he's rested cutely atop his pillow, belly down on the bed, his plush and shapely rear facing the ceiling, all soft curves open to his touch.
Apparently, though, those curves alone aren't enough. Evidently craving more, Louis tells him to turn over, and Will obeys without a second thought, rolling languidly onto his back, revealing his chest, his slender waist, his hips — his cock, flaccid for the moment. His hair is tousled, flyaways catching the light and curling silver in every wild direction. Feeling very, very pleased with himself, Will goes so far as to pose even more boldly, throwing one arm up over his brow to push his hair back, the other clutching his thigh for visual interest as he parts his legs to reveal his soft hole, still flushed and now leaking some of Louis's spend.
If he had taken Louis up on his offer all those months ago, so far above the reddened skies, his limbs would be blackened, and he would wear a crown of thorns. His serene blue eyes would have turned a dark, anxiety-ridden amber. And he would have still been beautiful like that, too — but there is something exceptionally lovely about the way he bats his lashes now, smooth and soft against the velvet blue cloak of night outside.
Will smiles sweetly, but from his husband's vantage point, and the moonlight illuminating his gentle blue eyes, it might look more like a smirk. If nothing else, he'll seduce his feral Louis back to bed like this. ]
Do you like the view...?
[ His skin gleams faintly with sweat, but even after all they've done, Will still smells sweet — even refreshing, like his bath salts. ]
[ while Louis' plan of becoming king did not pan out, there is a nobility in him that will never shake out. in this moment, he likes knowing the king is his, and that the king will listen to the gentle command to show him his body. there's some primal satisfaction in him that comes from it – that comes from this, really – watching. perhaps losing to Will was not a bad thing, knowing that this was where he was now, knowing that he got this.
Will puts on a show for him, rolling onto his back, stretching the shape of his body and accentuating all of his curves while Louis sips his water. there's a sense of power in this. with a twist of his wrist, Louis rolls the water in the goblet, deliberately resisting the urge to join Will once again in bed. ]
Enough to see more.
[ despite the easy words, it's obvious where his eyes are, half-lidded and sharp with lust. it won't take much to get him back to bed, but he's feeling playful, and he wants a little more of a show.
with one hand he leans back against the table, not quite matching Will's show of seduction, but not leaving much to the imagination as to the curves that are beneath his robes. he may mean to distract Will as much as Will means to seduce him. ]
[ There is something deeply heady, even downright intoxicating, about the electrifying distance between the two of them in this moment. Will gazes at his new husband as if caught in a trance, deep in the throes of young love and madly desirous for it; there's a tension in him that throbs and twitches, hooked on the thought that Louis wants to fuck him right now, too. It feels outrageously thrilling to know that Louis feels the same way — that they are each admiring the other and both are equally eager to devour the other, despite the fact that they were fucking only minutes ago.
Will rests his eyes on Louis's body — on each graceful curve of muscle, with some of the best parts now hidden by the robe loosely wrapped around Louis's waist. He licks his lips, openly salivating over his husband's chest, his waist, his legs, his thighs. In times past, the attraction he felt to Louis was always something shameful which he had to deny in himself; now he can lose himself in it fully, let himself loose to satisfy his wild desires.
Will touches himself slowly, indulgently. He slides one slim hand down between his pecs towards his groin, and his cock, which is by now stirring with interest. His other hand cups one of his peaked nipples, simply caressing them at first, and then pinching them as he begins to stroke himself in earnest.
He lets his gaze rest on Louis's body the whole time, his lips faintly parted, hips shifting and thrusting into his own hand. What is he thinking of? Only of Louis, of course. How Louis will touch him, ravish him, abandon that goblet of water and fuck him the way he wants, if he just gives enough of a show.
He's very pretty. Slim lithe body bent back against the sheets, gorgeous silver hair curling around his sweet features. Sinking deeper into his fantasies, some of which were happening only scant minutes ago, Will tips his head back against his pillow and strokes himself a little faster, teeth biting into his soft lip as he suppresses a moan from deep in his chest. ]
[ it's something just for him, a moment not meant for anyone else. he had crawled, been corrupted and died for this, but it seems far enough away that it all feels worth it. Will is soft and supple, arching like an animal in the throes of passion, dancing with the shadows. Louis thinks he could get used to this, days of politics (perhaps of battle), and nights of coming back to Will's open arms to bury himself between his legs. he had been trying to find a place in Will's new world, but even if it's his first time within the walls of this bedroom, he feels like he can finally grasp it.
beneath his dark lashes, he keeps his gaze on the young king who's dancing in the sheets, hand between his legs like a picture painted in colors so vivid it could be touched. Louis can feel himself stir again, somewhere in the folds of his robe, brushing up against his thighs. ]
Just like that ...
[ he says lowly with his lips to the goblet, his breath labored. certainly, can Will so easily keep his attention from across the room? it seems as if that's the case. after all, he does not need to divert his infatuation with Will anymore. there's no need to protect himself from it.
as Will wishes, he seems to summon Louis from across the room, who despite feeling quite brimming with desire, strides at an easy pace as if he's enjoying the show far too much for it to end (he is). the goblet clinks against the night table as its set down, and Louis sits on the corner of the bed. he cups his hand along Will's cheek, thumb tracing down his chin and tangling in the loops of silver hair that frame his face. ]
[ Maybe they've finally found it: Louis's place in Will's life. Perhaps it's always been his destiny to be Will's lover. The man certainly seems to thrive on this, patiently taking in the show he requested with a simmering heat, a primal hunger, like that of a beast about to strike. His judgmental, distant gaze, with its brilliant blue-green eyes and dark, thick lashes — it's enough to make Will nervous, like he's a young boy with a crush, aroused and nervous and jumpy, eager to perform for his lover. (Well, he's not all that far from being a young boy with a crush, truthfully, but it is a little funny that he's still nervous when they've already done... what they've done.)
He's leaking pre-cum again by the time Louis comes closer; a trickle of it beads against the king's fingers and slicks up his palm. The wet movements of his hand make soft, sloppy sounds, as if to tempt Louis further towards depravity. Will tilts his head as his face is caressed and his bottom lip is brushed; his hand doesn't stop moving. If anything, it moves faster as he takes in his consort's stunningly beautiful face. The poetry they'll write about him... the poetry he'll write about him... ]
You look even better.
[ It's breathed out, ragged; not wanting to disturb the vision Louis has set up for himself, Will doesn't reach out to his consort, but he allows himself to be touched. His parted lips, the love in his eyes... these are all things for Louis and Louis alone to enjoy. ]
[ gently, he runs his thumb along the curve from his ear to his cheek, over the king's bottom lip to feel his breath against it. Louis takes in Will's body from where he's sitting, allowing his eyes to wander along the swell of his chest and down between his legs, to where he's pleasuring himself. the sight mingled with his scent from their rounds of play. like a dream, he slides closer, the weight on the bed shifting until he's leaning down over his new husband, his blond hair falling like a curtain above him. ]
This close...?
[ he says, letting his words drawl as he presses his thumb between Will's lips and into the warmth of his mouth. ]
Or closer still, perhaps ...
[ his thumb presses down on Will's tongue, into the wet slope he drags it down and back again. that mouth always feels good, pretty when he talks, soft and wet when Louis puts a finger there. there's no move to touch him, not yet, there's something enjoyable about this that Louis finds that he likes, something satisfying in watching the king pant and twist in the sheets. the wetness of his mouth makes him rise beneath his robe, the swell of his cock pleasant and hot against his thigh.
Louis will have him again, but he quite likes him like this, first. ]
Somehow, Louis always knows what to do with him. Knows what he needs, what his body craves, even through things that Will himself can't articulate — through his haze of arousal, he watches his beautiful husband come closer, that pale robe slipping open some few tantalizing inches as he bends low enough for his blond hair to tickle Will's chest.
Then he opens his mouth, and lets Louis's thumb press down on his tongue.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful — so beautiful, so intense, the way they each desire the other. Will feels dizzy with lust, mad with it. His cock twitches in his grasp as he pumps it still faster and faster, and he surrenders to the delicious tension of having Louis do nothing — absolutely nothing with him but hold his tongue down and enjoy the heat of his mouth while gazing into his eyes.
It's enough to make Will whimper. To make him shiver, to make him drool and writhe, even more excited than he was before, and all — only — because his new husband is looking at him, touching him. It's as if that's all he really needs to come: just Louis looking at him, just Louis touching him. ]
Hnh — Louith...
[ His breath is coming hot and fast now; he's hazy, hips bucking off the mattress now, perched on the delicious edge of pleasure. What will Louis do? Encourage him, tip him over the edge and let him come? Or punish him — make him beg? ]
[ there are soft, secret parts of Will that are privy only to him now, a former enemy turned partner. there is a trust here that disquiets him, but he craves it all the same that makes him want more of it – what else is he to do with this existence, now? in this, perhaps pleasure is an answer. Will shifts beneath his tough, love drunk and free, allowing himself to drown in it. there's so much to unlearn, but small steps. one at a time. ]
Good ...
[ Will liked that word before, and there is something beautiful about watching the king writhe on the bed, slim limbs and tousled hair. slowly, Louis drags a palm down the center of his chest and presses down just above his stomach, stilling the movement of his hips. ]
Slow down. You look good like this, it would be a shame if it ended so quickly.
[ he tilts Will's chin back, not breaking eye contact. ]
Why don't you turn over for me?
[ there's a smooth, soft tone to his voice, as if he knows just how to say something to make it sound good. ]
[ Good, Louis says, and that one bit of praise alone is enough to make Will tremble. Ah, it's really not right, is it, for one single world to hold such power over him? And yet — Will can't help but adore it all the same, how good it makes him feel, how something inside of him quails and quivers and melts at the thought of Louis whispering soft encouragement into his ear.
His consort really does sound so lovely. So convincing in that soft, smooth voice, the one that positively drips charisma, slides like liquid into Will's ears.
The young king is on the very cusp of coming when Louis stills him. He whines softly around the warm digit in his mouth, protesting, but Will complies with it all the same, held on the edge of pleasure, letting it take over all of his senses. Bereft of other ways to express how urgently he wants to come, the young king finds himself sucking sweetly on the thumb in his mouth instead; he's still holding Louis's thumb in his mouth even as he turns over again, hips raised and on his knees this time, exposing his soft hole and the red-hot engorgement of his cock and balls as he does so.
The anticipation is killing him. The promise of more pleasure has him hooked. Reverently, Will nibbles on Louis's thumb, as if he might convince Louis to let him come if he's just cute enough, if he begs sweetly enough. ]
Like thith...?
[ He's still stroking himself, because he's so hooked on it, but slower this time. Like Louis wanted. Will pulls himself off of Louis's thumb, but only so that he can plant a kiss on it, Everything, everything to please him... ]
You always want it slower...
[ There's a hint of a whine to it, though not an overly petulant one. Always is only a few times so far, and Will always gets pulled into Louis's patient pace anyway. For the young king who always charges headlong at the country's problems, it may suit him more than he thinks to be collared and held and told to slow down. ]
[ there's a moment of soft control that makes him shudder, his breath drawing in through his lips and then out his nose as he contains the sudden swell of desire inside. Will's wet mouth on his thumb, nibbling and whining around it; the king obediently pausing his touching to heed the request.
the king with a glaze of pleasure in his eyes, so full that he looks as if he'd overflow.
Louis smudges some saliva across his lips, wetting his cheek. for as long as he had sat on the politics of power and domination between him and Will, he finds that it's comfortable to fall into a pattern of both: the bruises from Will's mouth still red on his chest, and now the king hanging by a thread as Louis tells him gently to wait.
a hand cups Will's cheek. ]
It certainly seems like long enough to be "always." There are things in this life meant to be savored, Will, and you are one of them.
[ Louis lets the robe fall from his shoulders, discarding it on the bed. he tips Will's chin up for a kiss before he rearranges himself to settle behind him, pulling his hips closer. there are more favored positions, but there is something inside him that stirs at the image of the king on his knees. he's already hard, rubbing the length of his cock up against Will's sweet hole. ]
You look beyond the point of waiting, but you're being so good.
[ before long, he's pressing inside of him again as if it's second nature, with a long, slow thrust. ]
He is a wise king, a gentle king, and he knows that his reign is one that will be marked by his wisdom and his love of peace. But even wise kings have their vices, and he is beginning to realize that his may be an addiction to the pleasures of the flesh. He's already so damn hard — so close to the edge that when he sees Louis disrobe he almost comes from the sight of him alone. His husband's beauty seizes him in a way that makes him lock up with desire, so obviously overflowing with need that he's deliciously submissive to all of Louis's requests.
So small, so soft, so pliant, so greedy... how can one man be this sweet? Will lets his husband kiss him, lets his husband take up position behind him — lets everything happen to him because he's so incredibly excited that he can't think of anything else but how badly he wants this. He's so obviously in need, nearly shaking with anticipation as that thick cock takes up position at his entrance, outright trembling as it begins to breach him. He moans loudly as it pushes in in in all the way to the place where he wants it to be, and — ]
A-Ah — Louis, L-Louis...
[ He's far beyond the point of waiting, but he looks so, so damn good — Will comes as soon as Louis pushes into him, and in a way that he didn't come before. He's trembling from head to toe as his orgasm rushes through him, as his cum stains the sheets beneath him and his slick, warm insides tighten around Louis's cock as if welcoming him in.
Such a sweet, sensuous body, deliciously and subtly curvaceous, all Louis's for the claiming, Louis's alone to conquer...
So good, Louis says, and the delicate thrill of praise makes Will feel as if he's coming all over again. ]
[ it is quite impressive how disciplined Will can be – keeping himself from knocking on Louis' chamber door for months, holding himself back from self-pleasure and simmering in anticipation. it's also quite lovely to watch him fall apart, to reap the greedy benefit of his own desires that had come to a head after so many careful steps. they've come a long way since Louis had beckoned Will into the office of the Charadrius with his own lewd intentions, back when they had to keep the secret between them.
it's satisfying to watch Will give into those desires, breathless and quivering, breaking apart on the sheets. they were careful, for so long, not to show weakness in front of one another, always playing a quiet power game. there's nothing left to do anymore than bask in the affection, and allow Will to fall apart without consequence.
there are other positions that are more favorable to the two of them, but Louis can't help but enjoy the view from where he is. the king kneeling in front of him, trembling in the thighs, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he comes. there's a fine curve in his back, and the shadow of his spine, the way he twists his pretty limbs against the bed, and the tangle of silver hair, softly matted, much like the rest of him.
Louis does offer him a moment of reprieve, but not much of one. ]
Is there enough for one more?
[ he asks slyly, dragging his hands from Will's waist to his hips, settling there to hold him still, allow him the freedom to fall apart as much as he'd like.
Louis starts slow, with long, deep thrusts. selfishly, he wants to enjoy Will like this, after a full night of pleasure, both their bodies sweaty after so many claims. it feels good with each squeeze, keeping his breath paced to the roll of his hips. ]
[ Will half-expects Louis to take him by the hair, as he's done on several occasions before, and not always with the best of intentions. Instead, those large, sturdy palms slide down his body towards his narrow waist, holding him by the hips, anchoring him in lust.
Louis is moving. It takes Will's breath away in the best possible way, the slick churning feeling of his husband's thick cock gliding back and forth inside him; he moves from pleasure to pleasure, coming out of the aftershocks of his orgasm into new thrills of ecstasy each time Louis's cock hilts deep or slides across a particular spot that makes him feel improbable pleasure thrilling through his cock and his belly through to the very tip of his tongue. ]
Yes — yes, always, for you...
[ They've been joined like this before, in different positions. One time, when their trysts were more guilty and they both knew that they had to kill the other eventually, Louis had had Will standing up, braced against his bookshelf, taking short slow thrusts that had Will trembling and falling apart. Another time, he'd tumbled Will into the couch in his office, spread him out there, pressed into him with a hunger that could have conquered him. Those were idyllic days, for them — and then Louis had grown cold, and sent Will away to Virga Island, as if he himself realized that the call of his own lust had become a liability to him.
(Perhaps he simply feared what would become of his black heart if he learned to love.)
But this, now — this position is exquisite. Will succumbs to Louis's cock, tensing and twitching around it and welcoming him deeper and deeper, falling apart completely, his expression lost to lust. He's drooling a little, but he doesn't care; the more he's fucked, the more heavily he sinks into the sheets, relaxing fully, lost in how good it feels to have sex with Louis Guiabern. ]
[ Will is light enough for him to keep hold of him, gripping his hips even if his knees slip, or his thighs threaten to give out. his new husband is tall enough that when Louis leans over him, lifts him to get a new angle, that tendrils of his long, blond hair brush against his back. as he leans in, he gets closer, leaning over Will in a haze, his breathes coming out at long pants that measure his thrusts.
there's no need to hold back anymore; those feelings of affection that bubble to the surface can be sharpened like a knife, much like his other emotions. the two of them had put each other through various types of hell already, and Will had already proven that he was strong enough not to die, no matter how they tried to kill each other. ]
Good ...
[ he says it as if he meant to add to it, but he can't, the words lose themselves in the breath of his throat. the king twitches around his cock, urging him deeper, soft and slick, and drunk on the desire. the pleasure pools in his belly, somewhere in his groin and feels hot. this isn't something he finds he wants to hold, even as his thrusts slow, he runs his fingers along Will's cock, up the shaft and along the shape of the head. with a deep breath he releases, holding his king up with one hand, pleasuring him with the other.
he had tried so hard to become the king through violence, but now he was the king through love. ]
[ It's as if the whole of Will's world has narrowed down to the cock pushed deep inside of him — how warm and slick it feels, thrusting in and out of him with livewire persistence. Will's knees have given out completely, but that doesn't matter when Louis's strong arms are holding him up. He's so consumed by pleasure that he can't think of anything else but how good it feels to be at his new husband's mercy; when Louis's long blond hair tickles his back, he shivers, tightening further, plunging them both into delirious ecstasy. Nothing could feel better —
— except for the rush, the addictive spark of euphoria he feels when Louis's hand snakes around his waist and starts tugging on his sweet little prick. He feels positively triumphant when he hears Louis exhale from behind him, long and deep and exhilarating in a way he normally never allows himself. The pleasure of feeling his lover come inside of his body, fill him up completely — the sheer euphoria of feeling something hot and slick around the rim of his hole, knowing that it's Louis's, all Louis's, and Louis is his husband now...
Even sex feels like a battle between the two of them, and Will loves the satisfaction of having Louis Guiabern on his back foot. It doesn't take long for Will to spill, once he knows that Louis has found release, too, and those insistent fingers between his legs have worked his own cock to bursting again — he grips Louis's wrist, tips his head back, moans his lover's name, and then he's surrendered again. ]
Louis — oh, Louis...
[ He's just so very pretty. Slim and nude in Louis's arms, holding Louis's cock between his legs so nicely. Hair tousled, a fine mist of sweat over his back, smelling sweet despite the tang of salt and exertion. All slim curves and yielding body, dripping wet and still ready for more. A king to be conquered, still kingly in his desecration.
He feels so, so good. Such perfection. So addictive, and it's only their wedding night. ]
I...
[ He shudders, tasting pleasure through all of his senses, leaning limp against Louis's arms. ]
[ when they had met in secret trysts before their nuptials, it was a secret based on timing: when Will could wander from his friends, when Louis could part himself from his ambition for pleasure, and when those two events crossed they came together for as long as they could before parting. there wasn't time to linger in each other's company when they were enemies, as the world outside their own demanded their attention. what happened between them was easy to push back, cover with the ongoing events of an increasingly chaotic world.
now that they have time for one another, Louis is finding that the new king is absolutely insatiable. while this is their wedding night, they've already coupled several times, and Louis still has the fresh bruises on his collar to show for it. there's a moment where he wonders, absently, how he's going to keep up.
it's still surprising to learn Will can talk and muttering soft affections that Louis still not used to hearing. he has to pull out before he can rearrange a limp Will in his arms, allowing gravity to press their sticky bodies together for the king to enjoy. ]
I'm still more used to having your blade to my throat than hearing you utter those words.
[ he's somewhat amused, but still self-aware to some extent. that loneliness is still hollow inside of him, but it will become faraway soon enough, it will just take time.
Louis Guiabern is not the sort of man who's used to being loved. ]
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to anchor him, Louis takes his wrists gently, firmly, and holds him steady with one hand. if Will wishes to lose himself in abandon, Louis is inclined to help, as there is a beauty in Will's wilds. it's something Louis always found himself waiting for: Will to cut lose, to drown in pleasure. ]
Can you be good a little longer?
[ his voice is a quiet purr, low in the room around them. ]
Just a little longer. Good ...
[ the heat is rising, and he can feel the warmth pool in his belly, along the wet friction of where they're meeting. Will isn't the only one holding back, as Louis makes an attempt to starve off his orgasm for a little longer to see the way Will's face shifts with pleasure: low eyelids and parted lips, and small, desperate gasps.
he runs his palm from his hip to his rear, as if a sort of gentle coaxing will somehow give him what he wants. ]
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What could be better than this? There is nothing, nothing about Will that is not bared before Louis in this moment: his nude body, the unabashed pleasure on his face, his half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust, lips parted, heedless of how he looks. His little gasps, his desperate moans — this bounty of little treasures is all for Louis, and now they can both bask in the thrill of losing themselves to glorious ecstasy — ]
Mmmnh — ah, ah — oh, mmnh, Louis, Louis, Louis... ah —
[ His consort's voice only heightens Will's pleasure, the grip around his wrists only heightens Will's pleasure, but — it's that single touch, that damnably gentle stroke from his hip to his rear that really sends Will crashing over the edge. He gives in, coming harder than before, seized by an orgasm so potent that it's almost dizzying; he has to collapse against Louis's chest as his body seizes up while he comes, twitching and shuddering richly, with even more intensity than before. He's shaking all through the come-down, panting against Louis's skin, trembling through his thighs.
Oh... if the sex they have is this good every time, Will might be well and truly ruined. ]
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Will loses himself a little further, and Louis feels the hitch in his loins, and the warmth that spreads over his thighs. the wait was worth it, all to see Will shudder and moan and ride him until he's exhausted. through his desire-fueled haze, Louis thinks that he may be able to stay hard for the next round he knows Will is going to want after this. that is, until Will comes, and his insides tighten around him, and in an instant that blindsides him, he releases with an uncharacteristic gasp, filling up his king again with a few pumps. ]
Hah ...
[ he sucks in a breath, steadying Will as he steadies himself. the hand that had cupped his rear slides down to his trembling thighs, either to still him or even enjoy the byproduct of his own making. ]
I don't believe I've ever exhausted you this much. A new victory, perhaps.
[ he talks as if he's testing if he can still speak, to his surprise he can. ]
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Will loses himself to pleasure and he feels Louis lose himself to pleasure and it's impossibly satisfying, impossibly good. He has a sudden and overwhelming suspicion that this is what he's going to chase for the rest of his life, the high of this, the adrenaline, the hit. Louis underneath him, looking so impossibly beautiful, goading him on. He feels the slick wetness between his legs and shudders, moving just slightly, as if his furtive movements could draw it out, give him more, give him more and more and more — ]
I... could say... the same for you...
[ Breathless, Will places one delicate hand on Louis's cheek, framing his face lovingly, the same way Louis's careful fingers are resting on his plush thigh. He feels so triumphant. Like he's finally won. Even on the evening of his coronation, he didn't feel this glorious, this free. What he'd felt then was the solemn knowledge that his country was his birthright and that he would do right by his people. But this, this is for him. That Louis is still alive at all is the product of his own selfishness. This journey was his coming-of-age, and Louis, Louis is his prize for the taking — ]
That was so good...
[ Sultry and breathless, like some succubus from the legends of the ancients, Will giggles, half-drunk on the satisfaction of his orgasm. He's surprised he can still talk, too. He feels dizzy, heady, almost sick with love. ]
I want to see you like this... over and over and over again...
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and here they were.
it was infectious in some way, Will's bright personality, and being around him so much has made Louis notice that his more nihilistic tendencies didn't feel so heavy. his mood didn't feel so dark. the prospect of affection, the willingness to give it, and Will's non-judgement made him more comfortable with himself in the world than he ever thought he'd be. ]
You've plenty of years to do so, in light of the ceremony.
[ a joke, kind of, and Louis seems to find himself amusing. ]
I'll have to be certain to train myself to maintain some level of victory, 'less you win all the time.
[ and Louis can't have that.
one of his arms loops under Will's elbow and around his waist, resting there for his king to catch his breath. after a moment of his chest rising and falling, he centers himself and pushes himself up on an arm, taking Will upright with him. ]
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The movement jostles Will, who seems sleepy (temporarily) in the wake of his orgasm; he laughs without the energy or breath to do it, humming faintly against Louis's chest as his body is moved. He has the wherewithal, at least, to trace the shape of a heart with his finger against Louis's chest, right to the side of where his blackened heart still sits. ]
Mmhmhm... where are we going?
[ We, he says, because like hell he'll even let Louis out of this bed for even a moment without also going with him. Well, maybe if it's just to grab some water to drink... ]
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You're quite demanding, and I'm feeling parched.
[ he did give quite a lot of his fluids to Will, and he's certain Will will want more by the end of the night. ]
For a brief moment, you'll have to allow me some freedom to quench it, hm? 'Less you plan to fall into slumber before our nuptials are adequately consummated.
[ Will is looking droopy, his body recovering from a few good bouts of play certainly has sunk into his bones. they have quite a bit to make up for in their time apart (Will moreso, who had months without him before he brought him back).
yet Louis does not rise, not yet, giving Will a bit more time to stick to him before he gets up. ]
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Well. "Relent." What Will actually does is this: he lolls against Louis's chest a moment longer, happily sticky — then he lolls down to his husband's breast and gives it a good lick.
Mmm... Louis salts.
Summarily satisfied (?) (...what was that?) (???), Will rolls off of Louis's body and into the bed, a little giggly and silly for it. ]
Delicious Louis...
[ Evidently, the great Count Louis Guiabern has been satisfactorily marinated to the king's pleasure. ]
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Louis slides toward the end of the bed, getting to his feet and giving Will an eyeful of what he never got when they coupled on the Charadrius (but did get in their last battle together). no matter how much of a mess Louis is, he never looks anything but elegant, even the red little marks look good on his collar, a contrast to his pale skin. he wears them like jewelry that hangs just above his black heart as he reaches for the closest robe at the bedside, tying it around his waist and stepping across the room to where a thoughtful servant has placed a pitcher and goblets. there's discarded clothing all over that he carelessly steps over, as if they'll never need them again.
he can observe Will from the table placement, the king stretched out over the sheets, tousled as if he's been in a good fight, slim and nude and slightly shiny from fluids. certainly, he could get used to this. sometimes he feels like a feral animal within a cage of a grand castle, but in this bedroom Will is his – all his, and the two of them are as equal as they are on the battlefield. instead of heading back right away, he admires his new husband and drinks his water as if it were fine wine.
gently, he says: ]
Turn over.
[ it's not exactly a command, but a sort of quiet curiosity, just to see what every side of Will may look like as he is now. ]
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Apparently, though, those curves alone aren't enough. Evidently craving more, Louis tells him to turn over, and Will obeys without a second thought, rolling languidly onto his back, revealing his chest, his slender waist, his hips — his cock, flaccid for the moment. His hair is tousled, flyaways catching the light and curling silver in every wild direction. Feeling very, very pleased with himself, Will goes so far as to pose even more boldly, throwing one arm up over his brow to push his hair back, the other clutching his thigh for visual interest as he parts his legs to reveal his soft hole, still flushed and now leaking some of Louis's spend.
If he had taken Louis up on his offer all those months ago, so far above the reddened skies, his limbs would be blackened, and he would wear a crown of thorns. His serene blue eyes would have turned a dark, anxiety-ridden amber. And he would have still been beautiful like that, too — but there is something exceptionally lovely about the way he bats his lashes now, smooth and soft against the velvet blue cloak of night outside.
Will smiles sweetly, but from his husband's vantage point, and the moonlight illuminating his gentle blue eyes, it might look more like a smirk. If nothing else, he'll seduce his feral Louis back to bed like this. ]
Do you like the view...?
[ His skin gleams faintly with sweat, but even after all they've done, Will still smells sweet — even refreshing, like his bath salts. ]
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Will puts on a show for him, rolling onto his back, stretching the shape of his body and accentuating all of his curves while Louis sips his water. there's a sense of power in this. with a twist of his wrist, Louis rolls the water in the goblet, deliberately resisting the urge to join Will once again in bed. ]
Enough to see more.
[ despite the easy words, it's obvious where his eyes are, half-lidded and sharp with lust. it won't take much to get him back to bed, but he's feeling playful, and he wants a little more of a show.
with one hand he leans back against the table, not quite matching Will's show of seduction, but not leaving much to the imagination as to the curves that are beneath his robes. he may mean to distract Will as much as Will means to seduce him. ]
Go on, show me.
[ he smiles when he puts his lips to his cup. ]
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Will rests his eyes on Louis's body — on each graceful curve of muscle, with some of the best parts now hidden by the robe loosely wrapped around Louis's waist. He licks his lips, openly salivating over his husband's chest, his waist, his legs, his thighs. In times past, the attraction he felt to Louis was always something shameful which he had to deny in himself; now he can lose himself in it fully, let himself loose to satisfy his wild desires.
Will touches himself slowly, indulgently. He slides one slim hand down between his pecs towards his groin, and his cock, which is by now stirring with interest. His other hand cups one of his peaked nipples, simply caressing them at first, and then pinching them as he begins to stroke himself in earnest.
He lets his gaze rest on Louis's body the whole time, his lips faintly parted, hips shifting and thrusting into his own hand. What is he thinking of? Only of Louis, of course. How Louis will touch him, ravish him, abandon that goblet of water and fuck him the way he wants, if he just gives enough of a show.
He's very pretty. Slim lithe body bent back against the sheets, gorgeous silver hair curling around his sweet features. Sinking deeper into his fantasies, some of which were happening only scant minutes ago, Will tips his head back against his pillow and strokes himself a little faster, teeth biting into his soft lip as he suppresses a moan from deep in his chest. ]
Mmm... like this...?
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beneath his dark lashes, he keeps his gaze on the young king who's dancing in the sheets, hand between his legs like a picture painted in colors so vivid it could be touched. Louis can feel himself stir again, somewhere in the folds of his robe, brushing up against his thighs. ]
Just like that ...
[ he says lowly with his lips to the goblet, his breath labored. certainly, can Will so easily keep his attention from across the room? it seems as if that's the case. after all, he does not need to divert his infatuation with Will anymore. there's no need to protect himself from it.
as Will wishes, he seems to summon Louis from across the room, who despite feeling quite brimming with desire, strides at an easy pace as if he's enjoying the show far too much for it to end (he is). the goblet clinks against the night table as its set down, and Louis sits on the corner of the bed. he cups his hand along Will's cheek, thumb tracing down his chin and tangling in the loops of silver hair that frame his face. ]
You look good ...
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He's leaking pre-cum again by the time Louis comes closer; a trickle of it beads against the king's fingers and slicks up his palm. The wet movements of his hand make soft, sloppy sounds, as if to tempt Louis further towards depravity. Will tilts his head as his face is caressed and his bottom lip is brushed; his hand doesn't stop moving. If anything, it moves faster as he takes in his consort's stunningly beautiful face. The poetry they'll write about him... the poetry he'll write about him... ]
You look even better.
[ It's breathed out, ragged; not wanting to disturb the vision Louis has set up for himself, Will doesn't reach out to his consort, but he allows himself to be touched. His parted lips, the love in his eyes... these are all things for Louis and Louis alone to enjoy. ]
Come closer, Louis...
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This close...?
[ he says, letting his words drawl as he presses his thumb between Will's lips and into the warmth of his mouth. ]
Or closer still, perhaps ...
[ his thumb presses down on Will's tongue, into the wet slope he drags it down and back again. that mouth always feels good, pretty when he talks, soft and wet when Louis puts a finger there. there's no move to touch him, not yet, there's something enjoyable about this that Louis finds that he likes, something satisfying in watching the king pant and twist in the sheets. the wetness of his mouth makes him rise beneath his robe, the swell of his cock pleasant and hot against his thigh.
Louis will have him again, but he quite likes him like this, first. ]
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Somehow, Louis always knows what to do with him. Knows what he needs, what his body craves, even through things that Will himself can't articulate — through his haze of arousal, he watches his beautiful husband come closer, that pale robe slipping open some few tantalizing inches as he bends low enough for his blond hair to tickle Will's chest.
Then he opens his mouth, and lets Louis's thumb press down on his tongue.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful — so beautiful, so intense, the way they each desire the other. Will feels dizzy with lust, mad with it. His cock twitches in his grasp as he pumps it still faster and faster, and he surrenders to the delicious tension of having Louis do nothing — absolutely nothing with him but hold his tongue down and enjoy the heat of his mouth while gazing into his eyes.
It's enough to make Will whimper. To make him shiver, to make him drool and writhe, even more excited than he was before, and all — only — because his new husband is looking at him, touching him. It's as if that's all he really needs to come: just Louis looking at him, just Louis touching him. ]
Hnh — Louith...
[ His breath is coming hot and fast now; he's hazy, hips bucking off the mattress now, perched on the delicious edge of pleasure. What will Louis do? Encourage him, tip him over the edge and let him come? Or punish him — make him beg? ]
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Good ...
[ Will liked that word before, and there is something beautiful about watching the king writhe on the bed, slim limbs and tousled hair. slowly, Louis drags a palm down the center of his chest and presses down just above his stomach, stilling the movement of his hips. ]
Slow down. You look good like this, it would be a shame if it ended so quickly.
[ he tilts Will's chin back, not breaking eye contact. ]
Why don't you turn over for me?
[ there's a smooth, soft tone to his voice, as if he knows just how to say something to make it sound good. ]
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His consort really does sound so lovely. So convincing in that soft, smooth voice, the one that positively drips charisma, slides like liquid into Will's ears.
The young king is on the very cusp of coming when Louis stills him. He whines softly around the warm digit in his mouth, protesting, but Will complies with it all the same, held on the edge of pleasure, letting it take over all of his senses. Bereft of other ways to express how urgently he wants to come, the young king finds himself sucking sweetly on the thumb in his mouth instead; he's still holding Louis's thumb in his mouth even as he turns over again, hips raised and on his knees this time, exposing his soft hole and the red-hot engorgement of his cock and balls as he does so.
The anticipation is killing him. The promise of more pleasure has him hooked. Reverently, Will nibbles on Louis's thumb, as if he might convince Louis to let him come if he's just cute enough, if he begs sweetly enough. ]
Like thith...?
[ He's still stroking himself, because he's so hooked on it, but slower this time. Like Louis wanted. Will pulls himself off of Louis's thumb, but only so that he can plant a kiss on it, Everything, everything to please him... ]
You always want it slower...
[ There's a hint of a whine to it, though not an overly petulant one. Always is only a few times so far, and Will always gets pulled into Louis's patient pace anyway. For the young king who always charges headlong at the country's problems, it may suit him more than he thinks to be collared and held and told to slow down. ]
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the king with a glaze of pleasure in his eyes, so full that he looks as if he'd overflow.
Louis smudges some saliva across his lips, wetting his cheek. for as long as he had sat on the politics of power and domination between him and Will, he finds that it's comfortable to fall into a pattern of both: the bruises from Will's mouth still red on his chest, and now the king hanging by a thread as Louis tells him gently to wait.
a hand cups Will's cheek. ]
It certainly seems like long enough to be "always." There are things in this life meant to be savored, Will, and you are one of them.
[ Louis lets the robe fall from his shoulders, discarding it on the bed. he tips Will's chin up for a kiss before he rearranges himself to settle behind him, pulling his hips closer. there are more favored positions, but there is something inside him that stirs at the image of the king on his knees. he's already hard, rubbing the length of his cock up against Will's sweet hole. ]
You look beyond the point of waiting, but you're being so good.
[ before long, he's pressing inside of him again as if it's second nature, with a long, slow thrust. ]
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He is a wise king, a gentle king, and he knows that his reign is one that will be marked by his wisdom and his love of peace. But even wise kings have their vices, and he is beginning to realize that his may be an addiction to the pleasures of the flesh. He's already so damn hard — so close to the edge that when he sees Louis disrobe he almost comes from the sight of him alone. His husband's beauty seizes him in a way that makes him lock up with desire, so obviously overflowing with need that he's deliciously submissive to all of Louis's requests.
So small, so soft, so pliant, so greedy... how can one man be this sweet? Will lets his husband kiss him, lets his husband take up position behind him — lets everything happen to him because he's so incredibly excited that he can't think of anything else but how badly he wants this. He's so obviously in need, nearly shaking with anticipation as that thick cock takes up position at his entrance, outright trembling as it begins to breach him. He moans loudly as it pushes in in in all the way to the place where he wants it to be, and — ]
A-Ah — Louis, L-Louis...
[ He's far beyond the point of waiting, but he looks so, so damn good — Will comes as soon as Louis pushes into him, and in a way that he didn't come before. He's trembling from head to toe as his orgasm rushes through him, as his cum stains the sheets beneath him and his slick, warm insides tighten around Louis's cock as if welcoming him in.
Such a sweet, sensuous body, deliciously and subtly curvaceous, all Louis's for the claiming, Louis's alone to conquer...
So good, Louis says, and the delicate thrill of praise makes Will feel as if he's coming all over again. ]
Ngh, I — ah, mmn —
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it's satisfying to watch Will give into those desires, breathless and quivering, breaking apart on the sheets. they were careful, for so long, not to show weakness in front of one another, always playing a quiet power game. there's nothing left to do anymore than bask in the affection, and allow Will to fall apart without consequence.
there are other positions that are more favorable to the two of them, but Louis can't help but enjoy the view from where he is. the king kneeling in front of him, trembling in the thighs, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he comes. there's a fine curve in his back, and the shadow of his spine, the way he twists his pretty limbs against the bed, and the tangle of silver hair, softly matted, much like the rest of him.
Louis does offer him a moment of reprieve, but not much of one. ]
Is there enough for one more?
[ he asks slyly, dragging his hands from Will's waist to his hips, settling there to hold him still, allow him the freedom to fall apart as much as he'd like.
Louis starts slow, with long, deep thrusts. selfishly, he wants to enjoy Will like this, after a full night of pleasure, both their bodies sweaty after so many claims. it feels good with each squeeze, keeping his breath paced to the roll of his hips. ]
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Louis is moving. It takes Will's breath away in the best possible way, the slick churning feeling of his husband's thick cock gliding back and forth inside him; he moves from pleasure to pleasure, coming out of the aftershocks of his orgasm into new thrills of ecstasy each time Louis's cock hilts deep or slides across a particular spot that makes him feel improbable pleasure thrilling through his cock and his belly through to the very tip of his tongue. ]
Yes — yes, always, for you...
[ They've been joined like this before, in different positions. One time, when their trysts were more guilty and they both knew that they had to kill the other eventually, Louis had had Will standing up, braced against his bookshelf, taking short slow thrusts that had Will trembling and falling apart. Another time, he'd tumbled Will into the couch in his office, spread him out there, pressed into him with a hunger that could have conquered him. Those were idyllic days, for them — and then Louis had grown cold, and sent Will away to Virga Island, as if he himself realized that the call of his own lust had become a liability to him.
(Perhaps he simply feared what would become of his black heart if he learned to love.)
But this, now — this position is exquisite. Will succumbs to Louis's cock, tensing and twitching around it and welcoming him deeper and deeper, falling apart completely, his expression lost to lust. He's drooling a little, but he doesn't care; the more he's fucked, the more heavily he sinks into the sheets, relaxing fully, lost in how good it feels to have sex with Louis Guiabern. ]
You f-feel... so good — ah —
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there's no need to hold back anymore; those feelings of affection that bubble to the surface can be sharpened like a knife, much like his other emotions. the two of them had put each other through various types of hell already, and Will had already proven that he was strong enough not to die, no matter how they tried to kill each other. ]
Good ...
[ he says it as if he meant to add to it, but he can't, the words lose themselves in the breath of his throat. the king twitches around his cock, urging him deeper, soft and slick, and drunk on the desire. the pleasure pools in his belly, somewhere in his groin and feels hot. this isn't something he finds he wants to hold, even as his thrusts slow, he runs his fingers along Will's cock, up the shaft and along the shape of the head. with a deep breath he releases, holding his king up with one hand, pleasuring him with the other.
he had tried so hard to become the king through violence, but now he was the king through love. ]
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— except for the rush, the addictive spark of euphoria he feels when Louis's hand snakes around his waist and starts tugging on his sweet little prick. He feels positively triumphant when he hears Louis exhale from behind him, long and deep and exhilarating in a way he normally never allows himself. The pleasure of feeling his lover come inside of his body, fill him up completely — the sheer euphoria of feeling something hot and slick around the rim of his hole, knowing that it's Louis's, all Louis's, and Louis is his husband now...
Even sex feels like a battle between the two of them, and Will loves the satisfaction of having Louis Guiabern on his back foot. It doesn't take long for Will to spill, once he knows that Louis has found release, too, and those insistent fingers between his legs have worked his own cock to bursting again — he grips Louis's wrist, tips his head back, moans his lover's name, and then he's surrendered again. ]
Louis — oh, Louis...
[ He's just so very pretty. Slim and nude in Louis's arms, holding Louis's cock between his legs so nicely. Hair tousled, a fine mist of sweat over his back, smelling sweet despite the tang of salt and exertion. All slim curves and yielding body, dripping wet and still ready for more. A king to be conquered, still kingly in his desecration.
He feels so, so good. Such perfection. So addictive, and it's only their wedding night. ]
I...
[ He shudders, tasting pleasure through all of his senses, leaning limp against Louis's arms. ]
I love you so much...
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now that they have time for one another, Louis is finding that the new king is absolutely insatiable. while this is their wedding night, they've already coupled several times, and Louis still has the fresh bruises on his collar to show for it. there's a moment where he wonders, absently, how he's going to keep up.
it's still surprising to learn Will can talk and muttering soft affections that Louis still not used to hearing. he has to pull out before he can rearrange a limp Will in his arms, allowing gravity to press their sticky bodies together for the king to enjoy. ]
I'm still more used to having your blade to my throat than hearing you utter those words.
[ he's somewhat amused, but still self-aware to some extent. that loneliness is still hollow inside of him, but it will become faraway soon enough, it will just take time.
Louis Guiabern is not the sort of man who's used to being loved. ]
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