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hannibal

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Sinric squeezes Hannibal's hand. "May I came up to your room tonight? I...I don't want to go to mine just yet." He doesn't want Ragnar to see. And he doesn't want to bring any risk to either Ragnar or Athelstan.

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"You can have that," Hannibal says, putting his arms around Sinric, "as soon as I can wake the required part of myself."

Sinric's eyes glitter with a smile. "May I?" He slides a hand down to stroke Hannibal's inner thigh.

"Of course," Hannibal says, smiling back a challenge.

Sinric grins and kisses his way down Hannibal's chest. Slowly. Pausing to take in every patch of pleasure and inch of sensitivity, lingering over Hannibal's nipples with clever little twists of his tongue.

Hannibal throws back his head an moans -- yes, this is very effective.

"You know me so well, Sinric..."

"I have made a study of you, just as you have of me." Sinric smiles, blowing cool air over a freshly licked patch of Hannibal's hip. "The better to make this music together.

"You very much have," Hannibal moans, already rising up to meet Sinric.

As he works his way down to Hannibal, it's to rub his silken cheek against it, smooth as any part of him. He brushes his lips softly over his head, warm and damp with kissing.

"Oh yes!" Hannibal moans. "You know me so well."

Sinric smiles up at him, his little tongue darting out to tease Hannibal's slit.

"You have me," Hannibal pants, "at your mercy again!"

Sinric purrs, teasing the warm bundle of nerves just at the base of Hannibal's head. "I think I like you at my mercy." He teases a finger down to graze Hannibal's still slick hole. "Shall I ride you?" He muses.

"Whatever," Hannibal says, "gives you the most pleasure, the most power, the loveliest ride to fulfilment!"

He smiles and takes Hannibal deep, making him slick and wet.

It seems really hard for Hannibal to not thrust up into Sinric's skilful mouth.

Sinric groans warmly, taking Hannibal to the root, moving with him with ease.

He draws back to kiss the tip of his manhood, moving to straddle him, not yet taking him in but pressing against him, feeling the heft of him in a moment of delayed gratification.

"What are you..." Hannibal groans, still trying not to thrust, but failing.

"Teasing myself." He sighs, moving with the thrusts so only the tip of Hannibal's manhood enter him. "Teasing both of us. One day I would love to tease and torment you until that iron composure breaks, till you take me with all the force of your passion."

"You want -- the monster breaking free?"

"I doubt your passion would be-" he groans, taking Hannibal in slowly, "monstrous!"

"You don't -- ahhhhh!"

Hannibal is lost for words.

Sinric grinds down slowly, inner muscles tight as he rises, flexing his dancer's thighs. He hums contentedly, losing himself in the feeling.

Despite his best efforts, Hannibal's hips thrust up.

Sinric leans in to kiss Hannibal, changing the angle so Hannibal's aborted thrusts hit him just right. He purrs deeply, nuzzling Hannibal's throat.

"Sinric!" Hannibal moans, his hips thrusting up more strongly now, despite himself.