skyrimkinkmeme: (dragon)
skyrimkinkmeme ([personal profile] skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2012-02-17 04:29 pm
Entry tags:

Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

  CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,

BUT OPEN FOR FILLS

HELPFUL TIPS
>Please post your prompts with the paired characters and any notable kinks/trigger warnings in the title.
>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.

One Night in Oblivion 7/11

(Anonymous) 2012-12-23 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
Dyce's blue eyes widened, and he took hold of Martin's hand, letting his tongue trace the lines on his palm. He kissed Martin's hand, flicking his tongue along the delicate webbing between his fingers. Then he sucked two of the priest... shit, Emperor's fingers into his mouth, rubbing the rest of the hand against his stubble. Martin groaned, gratifyingly, and Dyce grinned. He pushed Alix out of the way gently, letting him collapse on the ground to get his breath back, while he reached for Martin. He noticed Alix roll over to watch.

Now he could appreciate Martin’s body the way he’d wanted to before. He ran his hands over the Imperial’s furred chest, fingers scrabbling through the hair, tugging and pulling. Martin made a low-pitched noise of desire, almost a grunt, and lifted Dyce onto his lap. “Kiss me, you bastard,” he said.

Dyce was tempted not to kiss him just to show that he didn’t like taking orders from people in authority – only from dominant women with rope. But Martin smelled of soap, and fresh, masculine sweat; and the scent went straight to Dyce’s cock, making it twitch. He leaned forward, taking the Emperor’s chin between both hands, and kissed him very lightly.

Martin grumbled loudly with frustration. Running his fingers upwards through the Breton's red hair, he took hold of his head firmly with one large hand. Wrapping his other arm round Dyce's back, Martin stared into his eyes, making it very clear what he wanted. Dyce smirked, deciding not to make the Emperor beg, in case that was beneath him. The last thing he wanted was His Imperial Majesty taking his lover and leaving in a huff. So he kissed Martin properly, his chapped lips pressed against the Emperor’s softer pair; thrusting his tongue inside when Martin gasped and opened his mouth. Martin was a surprisingly good kisser, attentive and responsive, and they made out for several minutes until they were both breathless.

Still holding Dyce tightly on his lap, Martin shuddered in rapture and closed his eyes. Dyce caught Martin's lower lip between his teeth and pulled back, so that Alix could see. The mage was staring at the two of them, an awestruck expression on his face. He was sitting on the ground, already – or still – half-hard, hugging his knees in delight. “Is that what we look like together?” he whispered.

Martin opened his eyes and smiled. “Probably. He does look a lot like you in some ways.” As if to contradict his statement, his hands stroked Dyce's chest and belly, touching the muscles and fur that his boyfriend didn't have; making a direct comparison between them.

“Wow.” Alix seemed mesmerised. “I'd ask you to make out again, but that sounds creepy.”

The Emperor laughed. “My little pervert,” he said to the mage, affectionately. He made a great show of nuzzling Dyce's neck; licking upwards along the Breton's jawline, and behind his ears. “Dyce – do you come from having your ears sucked?”

“I'm afraid not.” Dyce seemed annoyed, as if the universe was desperately unfair and owed him a favour. Wanting to reclaim his sense of equilibrium, he spat in his hand before reaching down to grasp both erections: his own and Martin's. Holding them together, he stroked roughly upwards, in short, sharp tugs. Martin started to shake; his whole body quivering as he tried to resist the urge to frot against Dyce's hand and cock.

He stilled Dyce's hand. “Wait, stop,” he pleaded weakly.

Dyce did as he was asked, a bit startled. “What's wrong?”

“I... I...” Martin was blushing and stammering. “I don't just want to come. When I was... Before I was a priest, I used to be pretty wild. I... I always liked being between two other men.”

“Oh?” Dyce knew exactly what he was getting at, but he wanted the Emperor to spell it out. How had he never previously realised the aphrodisiac effect of forcing a powerful man to tell him what he wanted sexually? He'd have to do this more often. There were a few Jarls in Skyrim that he wouldn't mind trying it on with.

Martin was bright red with embarrassment, and he flicked his hair into his face to hide it. “I... I don't know if this is going to be possible, but I'd really like you to fuck me while I fuck Alix.”

“I'm sure that can be arranged,” Dyce said. “Why wouldn't it be?”