(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

Sinric tumbles through a door. Not his own nor Hannibal's but near and open. He pulls Hannibal with him, pushing the door closed without a backwards glance. The room is dark and richly furnished, finished in oxblood and gilt. All of which Sinric ignores as he pulls at Hannibal's clothes, eager for skin between passionate kisses.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

He whimpers into the kiss, moving rhythmic and lithe to Hannibal's touch.

Dappled light glints of the gilt of the bedframe, the ivory of his skin and is drunk by the deep red of the bedding. It makes everything seem visceral and surreal.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's other hand lifts to touch Sinric's breasts. "I should have more mouths," he murmurs into the kiss.

[thewidewideworld]

"You have enough hands." Sinric moans, flexing and clenching. "Skilled hands."

[cook_the_rude]

"Mouths are better," Hannibal says, dipping his head again to Sinric's breasts to prove his point with a long and intense suckle.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gasps brightly, throwing his head back. His movement become frantic and urgent. "Hannibal! Oh yes!"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal intensifies the suckling, and his hand moves faster. His own hips move as if on instinct, seeking friction.

[thewidewideworld]

"Please!" Sinric moans, his voice breaking. "Take me!"

[cook_the_rude]

"Sit on me," Hannibal says.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric doesn't hesitate a moment but shifts to straddle Hannibal, impairing himself on Hannibal's manhood with a groan that perfectly rides the line between pleasure and pain.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans loudly, thrusting upward into the welcoming heat.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's body opens to him, hot and joyous. He cries out, moving to meet Hannibal's thrust with a desire driven abandon that will no doubt leave him bruised. But he does care. All that matters right now is their pleasure.

He looks down at Hannibal, wild eyes and panting. His expression hungry for more.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends his head to suckle on Sinric's breasts again while he keeps thrusting.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric buries his hands in Hannibal's hair, pulling a little just for the joy of it as he ride Hannibal hard.

Latin and Greek and Chinese and Japanese fall from his lips, all begging, demanding more.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal slides one hand around to touch the tip of that little snail while aiming for that sweet spot inside Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

It doesn't take much to make him gasp sharply, already hard and on edge. He throws his head back, feeling bolts of pleasure rip down his spine. There is nothing he can do but let the feeling overcome him, already so close to the joyous violence of orgasm.

[cook_the_rude]

"Sinric!" Hannibal exclaims. "Oh yes, like that! Let yourself go!"

He keeps moving faster.

[thewidewideworld]

Hannibal's words, his thrusts striking Sinric's seat of pleasure, it's too much.

He arches back, his nails raking Hannibal's chest as HR gives over to a bright scream of ecstasy.

That frozen moment of blinding pleasure is almost too much to bear and his vision swims, half faint with the force of it.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans loudly, and spills his seed inside Sinric just moments afterwards, filling him with new, added heat.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lolls, hands falling to the bed in an effort to catch himself. Overcome with the wave that has broken over him, he trembles weakly.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal catches him, and holds him, and kisses him.

[thewidewideworld]

He returns the kisses as best he can, kittenish in Hannibal's strong arms.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal holds him and says nothing for a moment, except the little noises he makes while kissing.

[thewidewideworld]

It takes Sinric a while, and many shared kisses to fully come back to himself. "You bring out such wildness in me." He laughs warmly.

[cook_the_rude]

"I am proud that I can," Hannibal says, still holding him warmly.

[thewidewideworld]

He draws back a little to smile into Hannibal's eyes. And then gasps as he sees the smears of blood on Hannibal's broad chest. "Oh my! Hannibal, forgive me. I have hurt you."