goodfellow | for Thomas (NSFW)

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thomas

for Thomas (NSFW)

[continued from here]

When the man's pants fell to the floor, Robin's eyes slid downward as his tongue skated over his lips. "Oh is that what I'm saying?" he teased in response to the comment about eating him.

And with a little swivel of his hips, his own pants dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear, which wasn't unusual.

He looked back up with an expression that clearly read: Please, no applause.

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Thomas wasn't usually into domination. The kine were helpless enough under the influence of Thomas' demon, he didn't need to do anything to further that. But this...in a way, this was safer. The chance of him losing control and killing Robin was slim.

So he let himself play with his food a little, running the pinwheel down Robin's arm first, just to judge the other's reaction, tightening his knees against Robin's hips to keep him nice and pinned, his fingers continuing to toy with him, brushing teasing touches along his length, letting his demon out just a little more.

The sensation of the pin pricks sent a visible shiver through Robin. It didn't hurt; it simply felt. It felt like that very edge of pain, the just-before. Which in a way was much more erotic, and right now, infinitely maddening. Especially when Thomas was just barely touching his cock, feather-light not-quite-there fingers.

He felt an even stronger spark of lust, the kind he could tell was coming more from Thomas than himself. And it felt like a fucking orgasm on wheels.

"Can I keep you?" he moaned.

Thomas chuckled breathlessly, circling one of Robin's nipples with the wheel, then the other before drawing it in a line down the center of Robin's chest, his fingers finally doing more than teasing, curling around his cock and stroking loosely. "Funny, I was just wondering the same thing about you," he purred, licking his lips.

"I have a collar or two in there," Robin breathed, arching his body a little, straining against his bonds. "I'll wear one if you do."

"Maybe next time." Right now Thomas had more important things to focus on. Like moving the wheel lower, stopping just above Robin's cock and leaning in to drag his tongue slowly along the underside. "...What, do you bathe in honey?" he asked before circling his tongue over the head.

Robin let out a low groan, squirming a little. "I've never seen the likes of you before," he finally said, "and you've never seen the likes of me. That's how I taste. I'm a puck, darling boy. I was banging dryads while your ancestors were still swinging in trees."

Thomas wasn't sure his ancestors had ever swung in trees, at least on the demon side, but now wasn't the time to dissect the concept. He rolled the wheel across Robin's hips and then sat up, eyes luminescent white almost. "Lube." It was a demand, and it would be better for both of them if it was closer than the wardrobe. For Thomas because then he wouldn't have to get up and stop touching Robin, and for Robin because...well, if he was inconvenienced like that maybe he'd just have to start over.

Robin whimpered and strained at his bonds once more, as if he were itching to reach out and touch Thomas. "Nightstand," he said breathlessly. Of course he always had some in reach. There were at least a couple of bottles in there, probably a vibrator, and an obscene number of condoms.

"Good." Thomas slapped Robin's hip lightly and leaned over to pull the drawer open, smirking at what he found and utterly unsurprised. Robin was almost too perfect for him; later he might even take the time to be suspicious. When he was less consumed with other things.

He grabbed one of the bottles and rubbed it generously on both hands, one curling around Robin's cock again, squeezing and slowly stroking as he pressed a finger on the other hand inside him, panting a little.

Robin had watched him with heavy lidded eyes, and when that finger slid inside him, with what was clearly expert precision, his eyes went a touch wider and he gasped out, "Zeus' great hairy balls, oh fuck me."

His body arched a little. "You can feel it, can't you? My desire? Fuck. Tell me, what do I taste like?"

"Aside from honey?" Thomas murmured playfully. Then he tried to answer more seriously, considering the energy even as he drank it up, eyes growing ever-brighter. "Sunlight. Green and yellow, and wild and bright..." He added a second finger, trying to be patient, and added, "And there's just so much...it's a flood instead of a trickle."

"That sounds... delicious," Robin breathed, moving his body encouragingly. "I'm glad. I should be. I should be the best thing you've ever tasted. Now fuck me before I expire of desire."

"It is delicious," Thomas agreed, though he didn't respond to the second comment. Robin tasted amazing, but not the best. That spot was taken, probably always would be.

He curled his fingers slightly, teasing as he smirked down at the handcuffed puck. "I really don't think you're in any position to make demands, pretty boy," he observed, letting his fingers still inside Robin--just to remind him who was in charge right then.

Robin let out a sharp little cry of protest, his body straining a little. "Oh, come on," he whined. "If you think I taste good now, just wait until you feel me come." He licked his lips. "And we pucks have alarmingly low refractory periods."

"I already have, remember?" And not too long ago, though it was nothing as enjoyable and sinful as this, the quick handjob in the dressing room.

But either he took pity on Robin, or more likely just grew impatient himself, and pulled his fingers free, grabbing the lube to rub some on his cock before positioning himself over Robin and pressing slowly, as excruciatingly slowly as he could bear, inside, wanting to bask in every fucking moment of this.

Having given up on the English language for the time being, Robin swore loudly in Greek and jerked so hard that the handcuffs rattled against the metal headboard. All meant to convey: yes, yes, yes.

It was a sentiment Thomas agreed with wholeheartedly. He pressed himself in deep, deeper, and finally when he was buried inside Robin, he gripped Robin's cock tightly in his hand, stroking slowly as he started to thrust. He would be speeding up soon enough, he knew. His fight for dominance against his demon was already straining his control.

Robin was so overwhelmed with pleasure, he could hardly think. Underneath Thomas he became a wild, whimpering creature of desire, jerking against his bonds and growling obscenities in a dozen different languages

Thomas only vaguely recognized most of what Robin was saying, but the sentiment was easy enough to pick up on. It even inspired him, and he switched over to ancient Etruscan before whispering a steady stream of encouraging words about how how this was, how amazing Robin felt, how gorgeous he was like that, squirming and helpless, how good he tasted. He started thrusting faster, his hand matching the pace on Robin's cock.

Hera's tits, you have got to be kidding.

Some of the most amazing sex he'd ever had, ego stroking, and dead languages all at the same time? Robin was pretty much in heaven. And helpless to resist anything Thomas was giving him - not that he'd want to.

When he came, it was like a fucking tsunami.

Thomas groaned as the energy of Robin's orgasm hit him, his demon gleefully drinking it in as the waves of ecstasy pushed him over the edge as well. He thrust deep and shuddered as he came, half-collapsing on top of Robin as he panted for breath. Empty Night, it had been a long damn time since he'd had anything even approaching sex this satisfying.

Robin too was panting for breath after that, great gulping breaths. "By the goddess," he groaned, the words actually slurring a little, "you can snack on me any day, sunshine."

And then his head lolled to the side and he was out. Chest rising and falling gently.

"I may take you up on that," Thomas breathed, shifting and pulling out carefully to collapse next to Robin, not realizing right away that he was no longer conscious. When Robin was silent for more than a minute, though, Thomas hoisted himself up to look at him, his eyes slowly fading back to grey as the demon settled, more sated than it had been in a long time.

"Hells bells," he muttered, not even realizing he'd picked up the curse from Harry. At least he could see Robin breathing, even and normal, and a quick check of his pulse showed it to be slow but steady. He laid there for a few more minutes, sprawled next to Robin, then pushed up to a sitting position, leaning over Robin's prone form as he untied the scarves, carefully lowering the puck's arms to rest at his sides. He considered him once more, then sighed and yanked a blanket partway up over them, stretching out near Robin on the huge bed and closing his eyes. He had nowhere to be, and he wasn't going to leave until he made sure Robin was going to wake up and recover from this.

Besides, after sex that amazing who wouldn't want to just relax and get some sleep?

Time passed. The room grew dim, then dark, and finally just when sunlight began to peek in through the blinds, Robin woke.

He felt as if he'd just slept for a week. Hell, he might have been afraid he had, if it weren't for the fact that a gorgeous specimen of a vampire was still in the bed next to him.

He propped himself up on one arm. "You made me miss a whole afternoon of work," he said.

Thomas was not, as a rule, a morning person. But amazing sex and a good, solid block of sleep was enough to leave him at least coherent. His eyes slowly opened and he gave Robin a somewhat incredulous look. "...You'll live." He turned onto his back with a sigh and a luxurious stretch. The morning after wasn't exactly his forte, but at least the bed was huge and comfortable.

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