A/N: Thanks to Deandra for taking over as beta :) She made some useful suggestions, and this is hotter now than it was before ;) Martin had me lying on my front, a pillow under my belly, arse in the air. He'd already given me the most delicious massage with a scented oil, which had relaxed all my muscles, yet turned my cock hard. I wasn't sure how that was possible, except that just being near him made my cock twitch with excitement.
His hands ran down my back in parallel – first softly, then his fingernails dug in. I groaned. "Gods!".
Martin sniggered. "Is there a reason you're taking the Nine in vain?". As he leaned forward to kiss the back of my neck, I could feel his own erection pressing into my arse.
"Yes, and you know perfectly well what it is, Emperor Martin Septim!"
He laughed again, hands continuing their heavenly descent of my back; before his tongue flicked out, and licked a strip of flesh down the very centre of my spine. I moaned and thrashed at the sensation. "Damn you, Martin! Stop teasing me!".
"Okay..." he agreed, moving down the bed to kneel between my legs. His hands stroked down further, and split, one moving onto each of my buttocks. He pulled my cheeks apart, and his damned, maddening tongue licked further down, and circled around my hole. I could do nothing but groan his name – the way the aggravating man was holding me down and himself out of the way, I could only feebly flap at him with my hands; which was no use at all. Eventually, by the time I was cursing him and all the gods individually by name, his tongue slipped inside. The sensation hit all my pleasure centres, and I thrust my hips forward, so my cock rubbed against the pillow.
Slowly, but surely, he moved his tongue in and out; the wet muscle reminding me that there were other parts of his body that were stronger and more suited for the job. I reached around the best I could and pulled his head closer to me, trying to push more of his tongue inside. He giggled, and blew a raspberry on my arse cheek. After – I don't know, minutes? hours? - of the worst kind of teasing, I was reduced to whining. "Martin! Martin, gods, please... stop messing about and fuck me."
Suddenly he was very serious. His tongue wriggled free, and he kissed each of my buttocks in turn. Reverentially, I thought – which reminded me of the way he'd touched the armour of Tiber Septim earlier. He sat upright, taking a sip from a goblet of red wine that was on the bedside table. Red wine, I thought. Sanguine...
"Alix, my love?" he asked, crawling up the bed to spoon with me. "Have you ever done this before?"
I turned to face him, and saw that he was hiding his face behind his curtain of hair. The skin I could see was blushing, which was absolutely adorable.
"Yes," I replied, "But not for a while. You'll need to go slowly."
He nodded, and kissed my head, moving my long hair out of the way to nip affectionately at the back of my neck. Although he'd never explicitly told me, he was oddly attracted to my neck, burying his nose in the soft hair there whenever he could. He reached for a bottle of oil on the bedside table – not the perfumed oil from earlier, but a different version, plainer. Less likely to cause irritation, I supposed. Someone had been anticipating this encounter.
"Alix..." he said, hesitantly. "You will tell me if I hurt you?"
"Yes, love." Martin's youthful experiences as an acolyte of "Uncle" Sanguine had given him some serious consent issues. To me, they seemed more like a fetish, given that he couldn't even enjoy himself unless he knew I was. There's nothing quite like worshipping the Daedric Prince of hedonism to mess with a person's mind. The Empire was lucky he was still functional at all.
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timeasmymeasure
Taking the Nine in Vain - 3/6
Date: 2012-11-07 04:19 am (UTC)Martin had me lying on my front, a pillow under my belly, arse in the air. He'd already given me the most delicious massage with a scented oil, which had relaxed all my muscles, yet turned my cock hard. I wasn't sure how that was possible, except that just being near him made my cock twitch with excitement.
His hands ran down my back in parallel – first softly, then his fingernails dug in. I groaned. "Gods!".
Martin sniggered. "Is there a reason you're taking the Nine in vain?". As he leaned forward to kiss the back of my neck, I could feel his own erection pressing into my arse.
"Yes, and you know perfectly well what it is, Emperor Martin Septim!"
He laughed again, hands continuing their heavenly descent of my back; before his tongue flicked out, and licked a strip of flesh down the very centre of my spine. I moaned and thrashed at the sensation. "Damn you, Martin! Stop teasing me!".
"Okay..." he agreed, moving down the bed to kneel between my legs. His hands stroked down further, and split, one moving onto each of my buttocks. He pulled my cheeks apart, and his damned, maddening tongue licked further down, and circled around my hole. I could do nothing but groan his name – the way the aggravating man was holding me down and himself out of the way, I could only feebly flap at him with my hands; which was no use at all. Eventually, by the time I was cursing him and all the gods individually by name, his tongue slipped inside. The sensation hit all my pleasure centres, and I thrust my hips forward, so my cock rubbed against the pillow.
Slowly, but surely, he moved his tongue in and out; the wet muscle reminding me that there were other parts of his body that were stronger and more suited for the job. I reached around the best I could and pulled his head closer to me, trying to push more of his tongue inside. He giggled, and blew a raspberry on my arse cheek. After – I don't know, minutes? hours? - of the worst kind of teasing, I was reduced to whining. "Martin! Martin, gods, please... stop messing about and fuck me."
Suddenly he was very serious. His tongue wriggled free, and he kissed each of my buttocks in turn. Reverentially, I thought – which reminded me of the way he'd touched the armour of Tiber Septim earlier. He sat upright, taking a sip from a goblet of red wine that was on the bedside table. Red wine, I thought. Sanguine...
"Alix, my love?" he asked, crawling up the bed to spoon with me. "Have you ever done this before?"
I turned to face him, and saw that he was hiding his face behind his curtain of hair. The skin I could see was blushing, which was absolutely adorable.
"Yes," I replied, "But not for a while. You'll need to go slowly."
He nodded, and kissed my head, moving my long hair out of the way to nip affectionately at the back of my neck. Although he'd never explicitly told me, he was oddly attracted to my neck, burying his nose in the soft hair there whenever he could. He reached for a bottle of oil on the bedside table – not the perfumed oil from earlier, but a different version, plainer. Less likely to cause irritation, I supposed. Someone had been anticipating this encounter.
"Alix..." he said, hesitantly. "You will tell me if I hurt you?"
"Yes, love." Martin's youthful experiences as an acolyte of "Uncle" Sanguine had given him some serious consent issues. To me, they seemed more like a fetish, given that he couldn't even enjoy himself unless he knew I was. There's nothing quite like worshipping the Daedric Prince of hedonism to mess with a person's mind. The Empire was lucky he was still functional at all.