Bull turns his head to watch as Dorian comes, enjoying the sight of it as he makes a beautiful mess of himself. All of Dorian's squirming makes him sway a bit as he hangs and Bull doesn't try to steady him too much.
When he's certain Dorian has nothing left to give, he stops. He brushes his fingers through the mess on Dorian's stomach and then lifts his fingers to the mage's lips, pressing gently to encourage him.
His mind is already turning toward what else he has to work with here and an idea flickers to life.
Dorian is still shaking, stomach muscles clenching and vision hazy, when Bull's hand releases him. He feels spent, dizzy, unsteady, but the ropes hold him firmly in place. It's comforting, in a way. His softening cock brushes the ropes against his belly, and even that much sensation feels like a brush to an exposed nerve.
A flush rises to Dorian's face as he parts his lips to allow Bull's thick fingers into his mouth, tasting himself strongly as they press against his tongue. This sort of thing might be embarrassing if he were with anyone else, and he feels a hot twist of it in the pit of his stomach anyway, in much the same way that the vulnerability of the ropes makes him feel. But for Bull, he purses his lips and sucks gently, tracing his tongue over the rough pads of his fingers and familiar callouses and the tips of blunted claws.
Bull holds Dorian's head again as he takes his fingers, reveling in the perfect softness of his tongue and cheeks, the brush of his teeth. He can feel his cock throb, but he'll deal with that later. Right now, his focus is Dorian and Dorian alone.
When he's satisfied that his fingers are clean, he slips his fingers free and brushes them tenderly along the line of Dorian's jaw. Bull gives him a kiss before he moves away again. He retrieves the oil from his pocket, warmed now by his body, and carefully slicks his fingers out of Dorian's line of sight. When he returns, he teases his fingers over Dorian's hole while he watches the mage's face. He doesn't press in yet, not deep. He only rubs and lets just the tip of a finger slip in, never for very long.
Bull's fingers slide wetly from his mouth, and Dorian sighs contentedly as Bull replaces them with his lips, kissing him sweetly. He's come back to himself by now, and feels the press and slide of the ropes even more acutely after his orgasm. His body is more sensitive everywhere, which means that even the gentle press of Bull's oiled fingers against his hole sends a tremor along his spine.
Measuring his breaths, Dorian makes himself relax further with each exhale, sinking deeper into the ropes. They've done this before many times, of course. He's taken Bull's cock like this, loose and recently spent and still craving more, and Bull's never failed to work him up to another orgasm in the process. The sensation of Bull teasing his hole with circling touches and gentle penetration is achingly familiar. Dorian lets his eyes fall closed as he murmurs, "Stop teasing and fuck me, if that's what you intend." As though he has any say in what happens now.
"No," Bull says mildly, sounding almost amused by the quiet demand. "I told you, Dorian. I have all night, and right now it's my prerogative if I want to take it."
The mage agreed to this and now he's at Bull's mercy, unless he chooses to use the watchword. Bull brushes a kiss to Dorian's thigh and teases him for another moment before he lets a single finger sink into him, slowly.
"And if I fuck you, it will be when I want to, not when you demand it. You can't even stamp your feet." He grins and bites Dorian's thigh, just hard enough to leave a red mark but not enough to bruise. Not yet. He's going to take his time with that, too.
It takes a moment for Dorian to register that he's actually being refused. He's never bedded a man before who would hesitate to follow that particular directive, let alone deny him entirely. His eyes snap open, and the expression of incredulous shock on his face is probably nearly comical before it melts into a sharp gasp when Bull finally eases his finger inside, followed in short order by teeth grazing his thigh, a sharp and resonating point of pain that thrums through his body like a plucked string.
"Is that not the point of this little exercise? You tie me up and have your way with me?" He asks, voice strained. Something new and strangely exciting threatens to settle within him and rekindle his arousal. He's so used to demanding, as Bull puts it. If is barely a word in Dorian's vocabulary, and yet here he is, entirely helpless. Bull will choose what happens, and Dorian will accept it. Those are the rules of this encounter. Why should being denied appeal to him so?
As if to remind him of this, Bull's finger rocks slowly inside him. It feels unusually big after a month without this sort of touch, and Dorian is tight and slow to adjust.
Bull looks up along the line of Dorian's body and he smirks when he sees the incredulous look on Dorian's face. He wonders if anyone has ever really denied him before. If Dorian has ever been refused by someone he wants. Bull doubts it. He can be very commanding in the bedroom, regardless of what position he takes. Dorian Pavus knows what he wants and demands it.
He can demand it all he likes. Bull isn't nearly there yet.
"What makes you think I'm not having my way with you right now? This is what I want."
With tedious care, Bull pushes another finger into Dorian, coaxing his body to stretch. It's been a long month and he refuses to hurt Dorian by being overzealous. His free hand gently cradles the mage's cock and Bull manages to maintain eye contact as he licks a stripe up the length. It doesn't matter if Dorian's hard or not yet - Bull will get him there.
Dorian's pulse is pounding. The heat in Bull's eye, that attractive smirk on his lips--Maker, he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's doing exactly as he pleases. Bull tells him as much with easy confidence as he eases a second finger inside him. Dorian whimpers, feeling the dull ache as his body stretches to accommodate it, slowly, gradually. Two of the Bull's fingers is a significant step up from one, especially when his body is still so sensitive.
Compounding this, Bull holds his cock in place as he applies his tongue, and Dorian cries out sharply, hips straining up. He isn't hard yet, not so soon, but the potential is there, emphasized by the way it twitches, swelling a little against Bull's tongue. "I can't possibly," Dorian says anyway, shaking his head. One of the few movements he can make freely. "Not so quickly." As sensitive as the rest of his body is, his cock is most of all. Coming twice is par for the course for him when they fuck, but typically Bull lets Dorian get hard again on his own without this sort of deliberate coaxing.
"Sssh," he hushes gently. He leaves Dorian's cock and focuses instead on what his fingers are doing. He fucks Dorian slowly, just like this, and every few strokes he lets his fingers brush over the spot he know will send pleasure jolting straight to Dorian's core.
Bull concerns himself with leaving a bruise on Dorian's thigh while he works. He won't rush Dorian back to arousal, but he has no intention of stopping what he's doing while he waits.
"I've missed you," he murmurs against Dorian's skin. "And now that I have you go, I'm not inclined to let you go."
Dorian is enamored. That's all there is to it. He would never allow this--any of this--from another man. Bull fucks him patiently with his fingers, making Dorian gasp and shudder as he finds his sweet spot and pulls pleasure from him. The bruise he sucks into his thigh is a perfect counterpoint, and Dorian's legs tremble with how much he wants to move them--whether to spread them further or hook them over the Bull's horns. But the rope prevents him, as surely as Bull's care gradually wakes his cock again.
And he realizes all in a rush that what he's enjoying isn't the denial itself, but the lack of control, and the trust involved. He has given everything to Bull, and Bull is taking his pleasure by making Dorian feel good. His words settle in Dorian's chest near his heart. He feels heavy and warm all throughout his body, held safe in the ropes Bull had tied for him, valued and cared for. He can trust Bull with this. With him.
"I don't want you to," he says softly. "I've missed you." Amatus.
Bull rewards the tender confession with a careful thrust of his fingers and a kiss to Dorian's stomach. He goes slow as he adds a third finger, even though Dorian is about as relaxed as Bull has ever seen him.
"It's been a long month. How do you feel?"
He knows Dorian can get impatient, but he has no choice but to take things at Bull's pace right now. Bull stokes a hand down Dorian's cock, as if to remind the mage that he hasn't forgotten any part of him.
Dorian is utterly relaxed, but it takes some careful stretching before Bull's third finger can slide into him without resistance. He gives a low, satisfied hum as it gets easier to take, and looks down at Bull with a lazy grin.
"Full," he replies. "I certainly haven't had the chance to--" To touch himself like this, of course, let alone have Bull's fingers inside him. But he doesn't get the chance to say it, either, as Bull palms his cock again, and Dorian makes a sharp, pleased noise. He's well on his way to fully hard again, and the constant attention to his prostate has him leaking a little already.
"Then I'll make sure you're entirely ready for me before I have you," he promises. That gives him an idea, but he's not in a hurry to get to it. Bull keeps his fingers moving steadily as he guides Dorian's cock into his mouth. He wants a taste, and he wants to get Dorian aroused enough that he can get him off again.
Bull closes his eye and hums his approval as he takes Dorian as deep as he can. It feels good - easy - to do this now that Dorian is at his height. He doesn't have to kneel or bend at all to get to him.
"When do you not?" Dorian returns, unable to resist gently ribbing Bull's tendency to over-prepare him. Bull is so good to him. He proves it now as he swallows Dorian's cock without hesitation, and Dorian throws his head back, tensing around Bull's fingers at the sudden burst of pleasure.
This is good, now--this is very good. With direct stimulation Dorian's cock stiffens quickly, and he watches Bull's lips around him through half-lidded eyes. It's so easy to lose himself in the wet heat of Bull's mouth. Bull makes it easy with way he takes him, the caress of his tongue, the low hum of his voice. "Yes, yes," he finds himself sighing, and quiet praise in Tevene. "Your mouth is so good, Bull," he says appreciatively. It's gratifying in a way he can't quite describe to be able to use his own language like this knowing that his partner understands him. "Venhedis," he adds, cursing as he tries and fails to move his arms. "I want to touch your horns."
Bull lifts his head slowly as Dorian rambles in Tevene. He releases his cock with a final suck. His hand takes over after that and Bull's gaze is warm as he looks at Dorian's face. He answers him in Tevne: "Do you? You'll have to wait, I'm afraid.."
He licks the head of Dorian's cock and switches back to Common.
"I'll let you touch me before the night is entirely over. But you'll have to wait."
Another denial.
"I'm going to make you come again, Dorian. I'm not finished with you."
Waiting again. Dorian groans, disappointed but not displeased. He's so used to getting what he wants, but the anticipation is so sweet.
But Bull is promising to get him off for the second time, apparently, and so soon after he'd said that they have a long night ahead of them.
"Just how many times are you planning to make me come?" He laughs breathlessly as he asks. With Bull's fingers inside him and his hand around his slick cock, it won't take much more effort to achieve, but then, where will the rest of their evening go?
"Until you can't anymore," he answers mildly. That is his goal, in the end: to leave Dorian so wrung out that he can't even conceive of being aroused again. That the mere thought of another orgasm seems unreachable. Until his body can do nothing else but rest, and hopefully his mind, too.
"You are mine tonight, Dorian. And I'm going to have you until you have nothing left to give."
He punctuates that with a firmer thrust of his fingers.
In short, Dorian is equal parts intimidated and aroused. "Oh," he breathes, looking at Bull with a mix of wonder and trepidation. He isn't certain how much his body can take, but Bull seems very determined to find out. "Do continue, then."
There's no reason to hold back. He is Bull's tonight, and he thrills at the almost possessive quality of those words. He would gladly be Bull's every night, if he wished it. He'd give him everything.
There's no reason to restrain his noises of pleasure as Bull's fingers move inside him, edging him further toward his inevitable peak. He's hot and flushed all over, and he wishes he could just push back against Bull's thrusts, or grind his cock into his hand, or do anything but just take only what Bull wants to give him. But this is his gift, in a way. Bull had wanted to see him like this, completely handing over his control on his own pleasure, and Dorian is glad to give it to him.
Bull is relatively gentle this time as he coaxes Dorian through another orgasm. His fingers press and he strokes until Dorian is shaking, until he tries to jerk away.
"Easy," he murmurs. He gives Dorian's cock a quick suck just to clean him off, then takes his time licking and kissing the come from Dorian's stomach. He draws his fingers out slowly and walks away to dig through his trunk again. When Bull comes back, he's oiling up a toy.
"Relax," he urges, voice still low and even - soothing - as he slowly works the cock into Dorian. It's not as big as he is, but it is a bit of a stretch. It's been a month, after all. He wants to work Dorian back up to him.
His second orgasm of the night leaves him hollow and shaking. He barely makes a sound beyond a low whine, so breathy it's barely audible. The sensitivity he feels in the aftermath as Bull continues well after he's finished is overwhelming. It's impossible to keep his body from twitching away, and he's quivering by the time Bull withdraws his fingers.
"Kaffas," Dorian curses softly, weary and drained. The Bull's voice is soothing, and he lets his eyes close as he tries to catch his breath. His chest is heaving, and tremors still shake him when he feels the oiled tip of the cock in Bull's hand pressing into his loosened hole. His eyes snap open. "You can't be serious," he gasps, but it isn't a protest, and it certainly isn't the watchword. Perhaps he's curious about how much his body can take, how much pleasure Bull can wring from him before he stops feeling it. Just now it's so much sensation as to verge on pain, but his body takes it, even if he feels on edge and jittery rather than relaxed.
"I am very serious," he murmurs, sounding downright tender. Bull presses a kiss to Dorian's thigh as he gently fucks the toy into him. He takes his time, knowing Dorian is a little overworked.
"Easy, easy." His free hand slides over Dorian's stomach and chest, offering a soothing touch. "You can make it stop whenever you want to," he reminds, just in case Dorian needs to hear it. Bull will never push him past what he can take, but he's willing to get fairly close to the edge.
When the cock is as deep as it can go, Bull leaves it there and moves toward Dorian's head so he can give the mage a lingering kiss.
A little is an understatement. Dorian is reeling, nerves rubbed raw from his second orgasm forced to take more stimulation without any time to recover. His spent cock twitches against the ropes crossed over his stomach as the cock slowly filling him grinds hard over his prostate. It feels like an electric current runs through him, bright and sharp, and he strains against his bonds as his body bucks.
"Bull," he pants, his only response to that reminder. He knows, but he won't. This is what Bull wants, and it makes him happy to give himself to Bull this way. There is a part of him, too, that loves to be pushed this way, his cup of pleasure filled to overflowing without his say. So he'll endure. He kisses Bull with desperation. His lips feel tender like the rest of his body, but he seeks more anyway, straining up for it.
"I know," he murmurs. He kisses Dorian again, and again, until both of them are breathless. "Do you want to move to the bed?"
He doesn't know how long Dorian can stay suspended, but with the current set up, Bull's had someone up for at least an hour. But that's a lot for someone that's new to the experience. His hands stroke over Dorian's sides and his arms, gently checking in all over just to make sure that he's doing alright.
Bull's kisses draw him in until he loses himself. He concentrates on that: the shape of Bull's lips against his, the taste of him, the way his tongue slides against his own, the rasp of stubble. By the time he pulls away, Dorian's head is spinning, and he nearly forgets that he can't reach for Bull, because he certainly tries.
"I--" He isn't sure, doesn't know whether laying down or being untied will release some of this pent-up feeling, or make him fall apart. Being untethered might be worse. "Leave me a little longer," he decides, though he sounds far from certain.
Bull nods and gives Dorian another kiss. It's easy to get lost in just this: they haven't kissed for a month before today and Bull--Bull is content to do just that now that he has Dorian where he wants him.
He moves away and returns with a cup of water; he helps Dorian drink, though inevitably some spills. He gives Dorian time to rest and murmurs soft praise, but eventually his attention turns back to the cock buried inside the mage. With one arm cradling Dorian's head, the other hand reaches to grip the base. He draws the toy out slowly and pushes it back in again at the same pace. Just to get Dorian used to the idea that it'll be moving.
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When he's certain Dorian has nothing left to give, he stops. He brushes his fingers through the mess on Dorian's stomach and then lifts his fingers to the mage's lips, pressing gently to encourage him.
His mind is already turning toward what else he has to work with here and an idea flickers to life.
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A flush rises to Dorian's face as he parts his lips to allow Bull's thick fingers into his mouth, tasting himself strongly as they press against his tongue. This sort of thing might be embarrassing if he were with anyone else, and he feels a hot twist of it in the pit of his stomach anyway, in much the same way that the vulnerability of the ropes makes him feel. But for Bull, he purses his lips and sucks gently, tracing his tongue over the rough pads of his fingers and familiar callouses and the tips of blunted claws.
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When he's satisfied that his fingers are clean, he slips his fingers free and brushes them tenderly along the line of Dorian's jaw. Bull gives him a kiss before he moves away again. He retrieves the oil from his pocket, warmed now by his body, and carefully slicks his fingers out of Dorian's line of sight. When he returns, he teases his fingers over Dorian's hole while he watches the mage's face. He doesn't press in yet, not deep. He only rubs and lets just the tip of a finger slip in, never for very long.
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Measuring his breaths, Dorian makes himself relax further with each exhale, sinking deeper into the ropes. They've done this before many times, of course. He's taken Bull's cock like this, loose and recently spent and still craving more, and Bull's never failed to work him up to another orgasm in the process. The sensation of Bull teasing his hole with circling touches and gentle penetration is achingly familiar. Dorian lets his eyes fall closed as he murmurs, "Stop teasing and fuck me, if that's what you intend." As though he has any say in what happens now.
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The mage agreed to this and now he's at Bull's mercy, unless he chooses to use the watchword. Bull brushes a kiss to Dorian's thigh and teases him for another moment before he lets a single finger sink into him, slowly.
"And if I fuck you, it will be when I want to, not when you demand it. You can't even stamp your feet." He grins and bites Dorian's thigh, just hard enough to leave a red mark but not enough to bruise. Not yet. He's going to take his time with that, too.
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It takes a moment for Dorian to register that he's actually being refused. He's never bedded a man before who would hesitate to follow that particular directive, let alone deny him entirely. His eyes snap open, and the expression of incredulous shock on his face is probably nearly comical before it melts into a sharp gasp when Bull finally eases his finger inside, followed in short order by teeth grazing his thigh, a sharp and resonating point of pain that thrums through his body like a plucked string.
"Is that not the point of this little exercise? You tie me up and have your way with me?" He asks, voice strained. Something new and strangely exciting threatens to settle within him and rekindle his arousal. He's so used to demanding, as Bull puts it. If is barely a word in Dorian's vocabulary, and yet here he is, entirely helpless. Bull will choose what happens, and Dorian will accept it. Those are the rules of this encounter. Why should being denied appeal to him so?
As if to remind him of this, Bull's finger rocks slowly inside him. It feels unusually big after a month without this sort of touch, and Dorian is tight and slow to adjust.
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He can demand it all he likes. Bull isn't nearly there yet.
"What makes you think I'm not having my way with you right now? This is what I want."
With tedious care, Bull pushes another finger into Dorian, coaxing his body to stretch. It's been a long month and he refuses to hurt Dorian by being overzealous. His free hand gently cradles the mage's cock and Bull manages to maintain eye contact as he licks a stripe up the length. It doesn't matter if Dorian's hard or not yet - Bull will get him there.
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Compounding this, Bull holds his cock in place as he applies his tongue, and Dorian cries out sharply, hips straining up. He isn't hard yet, not so soon, but the potential is there, emphasized by the way it twitches, swelling a little against Bull's tongue. "I can't possibly," Dorian says anyway, shaking his head. One of the few movements he can make freely. "Not so quickly." As sensitive as the rest of his body is, his cock is most of all. Coming twice is par for the course for him when they fuck, but typically Bull lets Dorian get hard again on his own without this sort of deliberate coaxing.
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Bull concerns himself with leaving a bruise on Dorian's thigh while he works. He won't rush Dorian back to arousal, but he has no intention of stopping what he's doing while he waits.
"I've missed you," he murmurs against Dorian's skin. "And now that I have you go, I'm not inclined to let you go."
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And he realizes all in a rush that what he's enjoying isn't the denial itself, but the lack of control, and the trust involved. He has given everything to Bull, and Bull is taking his pleasure by making Dorian feel good. His words settle in Dorian's chest near his heart. He feels heavy and warm all throughout his body, held safe in the ropes Bull had tied for him, valued and cared for. He can trust Bull with this. With him.
"I don't want you to," he says softly. "I've missed you." Amatus.
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"It's been a long month. How do you feel?"
He knows Dorian can get impatient, but he has no choice but to take things at Bull's pace right now. Bull stokes a hand down Dorian's cock, as if to remind the mage that he hasn't forgotten any part of him.
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"Full," he replies. "I certainly haven't had the chance to--" To touch himself like this, of course, let alone have Bull's fingers inside him. But he doesn't get the chance to say it, either, as Bull palms his cock again, and Dorian makes a sharp, pleased noise. He's well on his way to fully hard again, and the constant attention to his prostate has him leaking a little already.
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Bull closes his eye and hums his approval as he takes Dorian as deep as he can. It feels good - easy - to do this now that Dorian is at his height. He doesn't have to kneel or bend at all to get to him.
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This is good, now--this is very good. With direct stimulation Dorian's cock stiffens quickly, and he watches Bull's lips around him through half-lidded eyes. It's so easy to lose himself in the wet heat of Bull's mouth. Bull makes it easy with way he takes him, the caress of his tongue, the low hum of his voice. "Yes, yes," he finds himself sighing, and quiet praise in Tevene. "Your mouth is so good, Bull," he says appreciatively. It's gratifying in a way he can't quite describe to be able to use his own language like this knowing that his partner understands him. "Venhedis," he adds, cursing as he tries and fails to move his arms. "I want to touch your horns."
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He licks the head of Dorian's cock and switches back to Common.
"I'll let you touch me before the night is entirely over. But you'll have to wait."
Another denial.
"I'm going to make you come again, Dorian. I'm not finished with you."
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But Bull is promising to get him off for the second time, apparently, and so soon after he'd said that they have a long night ahead of them.
"Just how many times are you planning to make me come?" He laughs breathlessly as he asks. With Bull's fingers inside him and his hand around his slick cock, it won't take much more effort to achieve, but then, where will the rest of their evening go?
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"You are mine tonight, Dorian. And I'm going to have you until you have nothing left to give."
He punctuates that with a firmer thrust of his fingers.
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There's no reason to hold back. He is Bull's tonight, and he thrills at the almost possessive quality of those words. He would gladly be Bull's every night, if he wished it. He'd give him everything.
There's no reason to restrain his noises of pleasure as Bull's fingers move inside him, edging him further toward his inevitable peak. He's hot and flushed all over, and he wishes he could just push back against Bull's thrusts, or grind his cock into his hand, or do anything but just take only what Bull wants to give him. But this is his gift, in a way. Bull had wanted to see him like this, completely handing over his control on his own pleasure, and Dorian is glad to give it to him.
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"Easy," he murmurs. He gives Dorian's cock a quick suck just to clean him off, then takes his time licking and kissing the come from Dorian's stomach. He draws his fingers out slowly and walks away to dig through his trunk again. When Bull comes back, he's oiling up a toy.
"Relax," he urges, voice still low and even - soothing - as he slowly works the cock into Dorian. It's not as big as he is, but it is a bit of a stretch. It's been a month, after all. He wants to work Dorian back up to him.
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"Kaffas," Dorian curses softly, weary and drained. The Bull's voice is soothing, and he lets his eyes close as he tries to catch his breath. His chest is heaving, and tremors still shake him when he feels the oiled tip of the cock in Bull's hand pressing into his loosened hole. His eyes snap open. "You can't be serious," he gasps, but it isn't a protest, and it certainly isn't the watchword. Perhaps he's curious about how much his body can take, how much pleasure Bull can wring from him before he stops feeling it. Just now it's so much sensation as to verge on pain, but his body takes it, even if he feels on edge and jittery rather than relaxed.
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"Easy, easy." His free hand slides over Dorian's stomach and chest, offering a soothing touch. "You can make it stop whenever you want to," he reminds, just in case Dorian needs to hear it. Bull will never push him past what he can take, but he's willing to get fairly close to the edge.
When the cock is as deep as it can go, Bull leaves it there and moves toward Dorian's head so he can give the mage a lingering kiss.
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"Bull," he pants, his only response to that reminder. He knows, but he won't. This is what Bull wants, and it makes him happy to give himself to Bull this way. There is a part of him, too, that loves to be pushed this way, his cup of pleasure filled to overflowing without his say. So he'll endure. He kisses Bull with desperation. His lips feel tender like the rest of his body, but he seeks more anyway, straining up for it.
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He doesn't know how long Dorian can stay suspended, but with the current set up, Bull's had someone up for at least an hour. But that's a lot for someone that's new to the experience. His hands stroke over Dorian's sides and his arms, gently checking in all over just to make sure that he's doing alright.
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"I--" He isn't sure, doesn't know whether laying down or being untied will release some of this pent-up feeling, or make him fall apart. Being untethered might be worse. "Leave me a little longer," he decides, though he sounds far from certain.
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He moves away and returns with a cup of water; he helps Dorian drink, though inevitably some spills. He gives Dorian time to rest and murmurs soft praise, but eventually his attention turns back to the cock buried inside the mage. With one arm cradling Dorian's head, the other hand reaches to grip the base. He draws the toy out slowly and pushes it back in again at the same pace. Just to get Dorian used to the idea that it'll be moving.
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