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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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.

Robin's eyes drifted over Thomas' rather magnificent form, which looked even better by early morning sunlight. He licked his lips and then said, "Hey, a man's got to make a living. Virgins don't just grow on trees anymore, you've got to wine and dine them." He sat up and stretched, then rubbed at his wrists, which were very slightly red from his straining against the ropes. "Though you're right, I'll live. Even after you did your worst."

Thomas watched Robin as he sat up. "Oh, it's been so long since I've had a virgin," he groaned. Of course, that was mostly by choice; virgins made it even more difficult to keep control.

He sat up and rubbed his face, glancing around the room. "Yeah, you seem fine. I should get going."

"What, no breakfast?" Robin yawned as he slid out of the bed, liquid and cat-like and utterly unconcerned with his own nudity.

But then he glanced at the clock and said, "Oh. Well, you did take a lot out of me, didn't you, kitten. All right, off you go. I need to get to work and my housekeeper gets very cranky about naked houseguests."

"You need to find a new housekeeper," Thomas suggested, rising just as fluidly as Robin and searching for his pants.

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