OOM: Farewell to Sinric

[cook_the_rude]

 Hannibal leads the way upstairs and to his private room -- which is as it was. Mostly.

"Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" is gone from the walls; instead, there are archaeological drawing of Scythian tattoos, with the merest hint at the bodies they used to be applied to, the stark black art dominating the pencilled outline of a neck, a shoulder, a thigh, a pair of buttocks.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"You still have me in your power," Hannibal says, "so very effectively -- OH!"

[thewidewideworld]

He starts to move, rolling his hips more pronounced now. He leans in to nuzzle Hannibal's throat, still holding his wrists. "How long could I hold you like this? How long could I edge you forward before your passion became too much to bear and you took what you wanted most?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Do you want to try?" Hannibal says, and then moans again.

[thewidewideworld]

"I am tempted." Sinric purrs, nipping Hannibal's earlobe. "But it would be to pit your control against my patience. And I'm not sure I could win that wager, not now I've taken the edge off you."

[cook_the_rude]

"Then let's do this in cooperation," Hannibal says, "rather than in competition."

[thewidewideworld]

"Cooperative cruelty?" He teases, kissing down to nibble on Hannibal's neck with a brush of teeth. "Tell me?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal gasps, "like that -- just like that!"

[thewidewideworld]

"You want me to be rough with you?" He growls sweetly, sucking a little this time as his nips.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes!" Hannibal says. "Do whatever comes to mind, it's amazingly great!"

[thewidewideworld]

"Do you object to me leaving my mark on you?" Sinric ask, licking reddened skin.

[cook_the_rude]

"Not at all," Hannibal says. "It's likely to be gone before I return to my captors."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lets out something between a growl and a purr and bites down, sucking to leave a red mark on Hannibal's throat as he tightens and rocks.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal arches his back and cries out with pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Hmm, Sinric likes that sound. A lot. A few more bite follow down the curve of Hannibal's collarbone. Confident of Hannibal's hardness now, Sinric starts to fuck himself in earnest.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans with helpless abandon, putty in Sinric's hands.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moves in perfect control, changing the speed and firmness of his thrusts like the movements of a concerto. He varies kisses with bites, little licks with scrapping teeth.

[cook_the_rude]

The only words that Hannibal gets in between his moans are 'Yes!' and 'Oh yes!'.

[thewidewideworld]

Just what Sinric wants. He reaches back a hand to brush over Hannibal's stones, feeling for how close to the edge he is.

[cook_the_rude]

He is very closed, moaning at the touch with renewed abandon.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs, skillfully tugging Hannibal's jewels just so to bring him back from the edge a little. He slows himself, clenching his inner muscles tightly to hold Hannibal where he is. "Tell me what you desire?"

[cook_the_rude]

"You!"

[thewidewideworld]

"How?" He demands, fingers teasing the rear of Hannibal's jewels.

[cook_the_rude]

"Just so!"

His hips thrust up, pushing against Sinric's finger.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moves with him, not letting the thrust enter him any deeper. He does however rub his fingers in circles over Hannibal's hole. "Just so?"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal groans loudly, thrusting in helpless greed for more.