into the bath with Athelstan

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

Sinric gets up slowly, stretching all of his finely toned dancer's body. He's not doing it on purpose, to excite or tease. It's just the way he is, almost careless in his sensuality.

He offers Athelstan a hand and a kiss before leading him to the bathroom.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes." He purrs, deep and dark as his hand sweeps closer to his hole. He grips Athelstan's head, turning him the other way so he can molest the other side of his neck.

He lets out that needy groan of Ragnar's. The one he growls when he's deeply horny and barely able to hold himself back. "I want you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Touch me", Athelstan whispers. "In any way you wish, I am yours."

(The part of him still in reality knows there's one thing Sinric can't give, but there's still all the rest.)

[thewidewideworld]

He lets out another lush-roughened growl and reaches for the oil.

Without much preamble, he pushes two slick fingers into Athelstan, knowing there will be an edge of pain but knowing too that Athelstan needs and wants it.

He works his fingers deep, his other hand finding Athelstan's nipples; squeezing, teasing. "Mine."

[athelstanthescribe]

He gasps and moans, moving against Sinric's hands, pleasure awakening in him the way only Sinric has managed, and that rarely, since his torture.

"Yours", he says again.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's fingers find the root of pleasure, stroking and teasing it between short, blunt thrusts as Ragnar would take him in haste and need.

His other hands drifts down after a rough twist of Athelstan's nipples, leaving them aching and hot, bereft of touch. He slips it below the waterline to cup Athelstan's manhood, stroking slowly.

"Always mine. And I will always come for you. No-one will take you from me." Ragnar's voice grows rough, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

[athelstanthescribe]

Sinric is good at this, though it helps that Athelstan desperately wants Ragnar to be there with him.

"Just - let them - try."

[thewidewideworld]

"I would tear the world apart." Ragnar's voice strains in Athelstan's ear, strong hands working his every pleasure. "If they dare try." He thrusts his fingers hard, adding a third to find Ragnar's width and force. He growls breathlessly as if drawing near to his peak but fighting not to fall to it. "Athelstan! My Athelstan!"

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan thrusts back against him, making small sounds in his desperation to find pleasure.

"My lord..."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric tightens his grip on the base of Athelstan's manhood, working him tight and rough as every thrust of his fingers finds Athelstan's prostate.

Ragnar would never back down, not until Athelstan came apart in his arms. "For me." He growls roughly. "I want your pleasure. Give it to me."

[athelstanthescribe]

He's half-hard, and rising higher, trembling in Sinric's arms.

"I would give you anything."

[thewidewideworld]

"You are everything." Ragnar growls in his neck, kissing up to suck on his earlobe.

Sinric works his thumb against the knot at the base Athelstan's manhood, before stroking his way up to the head. He slows down and works through each point of pleasure he knows to bring someone to full hardness without letting the illusion slip.

"You're my everything."

[athelstanthescribe]

Between Sinric's skilful hands, finding every stimulating nerve, and the illusion of the thing he's wanted so badly for the last few months, Athelstan at last begins to respond.

"As you are mine. I love you."

[thewidewideworld]

"Love you." It's Ragnar's voice, Ragnar's intensity. Ragnar's lust. "Need you. Always yours."

He starts to amp up his thrusts, his strokes. He know more than anything, this release will be cathartic for Athelstan. Something he needs.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan comes slowly to his peak, but he does get there, crying out more loudly than he ever has before.

[thewidewideworld]

And Sinric is patient, willing to hold the illusion for as long as Athelstan needs, as long as it takes.

When his peak comes, Sinric holds him and holds him tight, knowing how powerful and shattering it will be. He leans against the edge of the bath, arms around Athelstan for support. As long as he needs, as long as it takes.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan shakes and tremors in his arms, enough to make waves in the bath water, almost sobbing as it passes through him again and again.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric holds him close, stroking his hair and whispering soft words of care and calm in his own voice again. "Beloved. Let it happen, let it roll over you. You're safe. You're loved. I have you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Thank you", he whispers, and it's for all of it. "Thank you."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric hushes him softly and kisses Athelstan's forehead, still holding and rocking him gently.

When Athelstan has strength enough to stand, Sinric will help him back to the bed but only when Athelstan is ready. No doubt this will have taken quite a toll on Athelstan and has in it's own way been draining for Sinric too.

[athelstanthescribe]

It takes a while, but eventually he does start to move weakly.

"The water is going cold..."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and helps him out of the water, towelling him down with care. He keeps his arms supportively around Athelstan, turning back the covers so they can snuggle in comfort and warmth.

He kisses Athelstan's brow, stroking his hair and holding him close. "Beloved Athelstan."

[athelstanthescribe]

"My Sinric." He moves close to his arms. "You are a wonder-worker."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric holds him tight and shakes his head with a half smile, unwilling to take praise. "No, just fortunate to have help to offer you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"How did you learn to mimic so well?"

[thewidewideworld]

He shrugs softly, "All sound is music in its own way, even the music of someone's voice." His own voice is a little rough, his throat sore from pitching it so far below his natural frequency.

And Ragnar has given Sinric more than enough opportunities to learn his sounds.