"Alright." His voice is gentle and low as Dorian makes his confession and offers his plea. Bull works for a moment more, just to make himself certain that Dorian will be safe when he takes him. Then he pulls back, uses more oil to slick his cock - which is aching, and he's been dutifully ignoring it. Bull adjusts Dorian on the bed, finds a pillow to push beneath the mage's hips, and he leans low to give him a kiss as he positions himself.
Bull is still slow as he pushes in, careful not to go too quick despite all the preparation. He murmurs something in low Qunlat, voice edged with relief. After all that work, Dorians body is deliciously yielding and he can't help the low moan that escapes him.
He doesn't speak until their bodies fully meet. Bull huffs a breath and sinks onto his forearms; his fingers tenderly brush through Dorian's hair.
Dorian's body is buzzing, tingling at every point of contact. He kisses Bull with grateful desperation, moans when he feels the thick head of Bull's cock press to his loosened hole. His body opens easily. Heat rolls through him in a steady wave as, with the remarkably gentle press of his hips, Bull fills him. Bull's cock is huge and hot and by the time he's buried to the hilt, heavy balls pressed satisfyingly against his ass, Dorian is utterly wrecked.
Bull has fucked him more times now than Dorian cares to count, but the feeling never stops being completely overwhelming. He's by far the biggest man he'd ever taken, and each and every time it feels like a miracle that his much smaller body can contain him--and seemingly so easily, too. Bull's patience and thorough preparation are always to thank. But Dorian has been specifically teased beforehand this time more than ever before, and he feels everything that much more acutely.
Their faces remain close; Bull covers him completely, appealingly heavy over him without putting too much weight on him. Dorian looks up into his eye, and cradles Bull's face softly in both his hands as he feels the scratch of the Qunari's filed claws through his hair. "Oh, Bull," he breathes in the small space between them. He feels so vulnerable, but so protected. Like it's safe to offer that to Bull. "I'm--better than ever, really." There's a hint of a breathy laugh in his voice, and his lips pull into a soft smile. "Do continue?" he prompts. "And if I get close..." Maker, he can't believe he's requesting this, after everything. "Stop me. I don't want to finish until you do."
Bull nuzzles Dorian's jaw and bites gently there. He can't stay that way when he moves his hips, though; it's difficult to bend quite this much when he's on top of Dorian. He doesn't want to gore Dorian's poor mattress by tipping his head the wrong way.
He reaches down to hold one of Dorian's thighs, using it to pull him closer as he pushes back in. He murmurs soft praise in heavy Qunlat as he pushes himself up. He doesn't want to smother Dorian, either. It's easy to build a rhythm from there, something deep and insistent, slow at first but building. Bull tries to keep in mind Dorian's request and he makes himself focus on Dorian's body more than his own, on every little tremble and arch, on the way he rocks his hips and goes tight beneath him. He's fairly certain he can keep focused enough to catch Dorian before he comes.
"As long as you need," Dorian laughs, only the smallest edge of hysteria to his voice. He's determined to last as long as Bull does, though he'll undoubtedly need help. Every rock of Bull's cock into his body lights up his nerves, filling the well of feeling and sensation inside him so much that it threatens to overflow with each full, careful thrust. He's so lucky to have a man like Bull, who can bring him so much pleasure without even trying--and yet he does try, always, and makes him feel that much better because of it.
As requested, he sighs and moans openly, low and throaty to panting gasps to louder cries, wrung from him with deep, slow, through thrusts. Bull moves away, so better to fuck him, and Dorian looks up at him with nothing short of adoration, the feeling warm and immediate, close to the surface, reflected in the softness of his half-lidded gray eyes.
Dorian's hands move to settle on Bull's chest, somewhere to touch and explore idly as Bull moves inside him, as Dorian shudders and reacts beneath him, wide-spread legs allowing him very little actual movement, but arching and shifting his hips to meet each movement as much as he can.
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Bull is still slow as he pushes in, careful not to go too quick despite all the preparation. He murmurs something in low Qunlat, voice edged with relief. After all that work, Dorians body is deliciously yielding and he can't help the low moan that escapes him.
He doesn't speak until their bodies fully meet. Bull huffs a breath and sinks onto his forearms; his fingers tenderly brush through Dorian's hair.
"Alright?"
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Bull has fucked him more times now than Dorian cares to count, but the feeling never stops being completely overwhelming. He's by far the biggest man he'd ever taken, and each and every time it feels like a miracle that his much smaller body can contain him--and seemingly so easily, too. Bull's patience and thorough preparation are always to thank. But Dorian has been specifically teased beforehand this time more than ever before, and he feels everything that much more acutely.
Their faces remain close; Bull covers him completely, appealingly heavy over him without putting too much weight on him. Dorian looks up into his eye, and cradles Bull's face softly in both his hands as he feels the scratch of the Qunari's filed claws through his hair. "Oh, Bull," he breathes in the small space between them. He feels so vulnerable, but so protected. Like it's safe to offer that to Bull. "I'm--better than ever, really." There's a hint of a breathy laugh in his voice, and his lips pull into a soft smile. "Do continue?" he prompts. "And if I get close..." Maker, he can't believe he's requesting this, after everything. "Stop me. I don't want to finish until you do."
no subject
He reaches down to hold one of Dorian's thighs, using it to pull him closer as he pushes back in. He murmurs soft praise in heavy Qunlat as he pushes himself up. He doesn't want to smother Dorian, either. It's easy to build a rhythm from there, something deep and insistent, slow at first but building. Bull tries to keep in mind Dorian's request and he makes himself focus on Dorian's body more than his own, on every little tremble and arch, on the way he rocks his hips and goes tight beneath him. He's fairly certain he can keep focused enough to catch Dorian before he comes.
"How long do you want to draw this out?"
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As requested, he sighs and moans openly, low and throaty to panting gasps to louder cries, wrung from him with deep, slow, through thrusts. Bull moves away, so better to fuck him, and Dorian looks up at him with nothing short of adoration, the feeling warm and immediate, close to the surface, reflected in the softness of his half-lidded gray eyes.
Dorian's hands move to settle on Bull's chest, somewhere to touch and explore idly as Bull moves inside him, as Dorian shudders and reacts beneath him, wide-spread legs allowing him very little actual movement, but arching and shifting his hips to meet each movement as much as he can.