| Power Game (1/2) (sequel to Rules of the Game) delica |
Date: May 22, 2003 Pairing: VM/SB Rating: NC-17 Warning: strong words; kink; dom!Sean Summary: Sean had his own rules. Archive: RugbyTackle, Green Opals, Enigma Disclaimer: NOT true. Absobloodylutely fictional. Feedback: Yes, please. Beta: English is not my first language, utmost thanks to Jennandanica for her wonderful beta. Note: Special thanks to my dearest friend dd2 for the valuable views exchanged. Rules of the Game was written for LJ community contrelamontre's "open-ending" challenge. * * * * * "Pants off, you can suck me. Boxers off, you can fuck me." "Damn you, Vig. Kill me with your sword, why don't you?" "Which one are you referring to?" Viggo pulled the hand under his fly out, holding his hard cock upright stroking leisurely up and down. Sean nearly choked at the sight, almost blacking out. Think, old boy. Think. He was convinced that he was about to have a heart attack or something-along-that-line. getthehelloutofyourpants But how? He couldn't think, nor could he look at Viggo, so he glanced down, staring hard at the floor right in front of him, his own shoes, the end of seam of his pants, his crotch. Shit He had no bloody idea in the whole world how. Too hard to trust his brain. And he couldn't wait, because he didn't know how long he could hang on. He was aching, leaking, crying for release. He needed one two maybe nine more shots of whisky, or whatever, to muster the strength to step out of this entrapment, to turn his back on Viggo. "Aren't you coming to me?" Viggo's voice wafted across the stillness. "Sean." Tasting his lust. "Come." Caressing his desire. "Now." Piercing his soul. Fuck it Fuck it Fuck it Suddenly Sean was very awake, very sure, and very determined. He was pushed over and had crossed that invisible line, when the alcohol that hazed his reasoning dissolved, when the feeling of disorientation subsided, when he felt matters were back in his own hands again. He took a long deep breath and removed his shoes and socks, unbuttoning his shirt as he approached Viggo, each step resonated by one heartbeat. He straddled Viggo's legs, leaning over him, and flung his shirt behind his back. "I don't care." Sean asserted, peering down at the man beneath him. "I can strip you," ripping Viggo's half-lifted shirt open, peeling down from the shoulder, stopping halfway at the elbows binding Viggo's arms. "Touch you," leaning in a bit to put his hands on Viggo's torso, moving slowly up and down the sides, thumbs brushing slightly across the nipples. "Kiss you," inclining deeper to force the parted lips opened, sucking and ravaging everything within. "Take you the way I want." One hand enclosing Viggo's hard cock, the other hand slipping into his cleft. Viggo stiffened. His gaze was unyielding, almost stern. "Not like this. Rules applied. My call tonight." Sean held his gaze, his lean face taut as sculpture. "Very well, I play to win." "We'll see." "I'll see you strip first," which was a statement for action. Sean backed away, and quickly grasped the waistband of Viggo's unbuttoned jeans to tug them down. Viggo slid off the armchair, ending up half sitting half sprawling on the floor: his jeans and boxers down around his ankles, his shirt peeled halfway to his elbows, totally aroused, with his erection popping up helplessly in the very middle. Sean backed away further, grabbed a chair and sat on the wrong side in front of Viggo, spreading his legs, resting both arms on the back of the chair. "That's a sight, mate." Sean chuckled, rubbing against the back of the chair, flushing and sweating all over. Viggo had to close his eyes, but there was no way to shut off from Sean's voice. "I'd come just seeing you like that." Sean's voice was husky with arousal, heavy accent blurring like being drowned in a wet dream. Viggo found himself very very close to the edge. He suddenly remembered: when Sean was firm and intense like this, the effect on him was absolutely devastating. "Would you come for me?" The hot-as-fuck intonation attacked Viggo swift and hard. Viggo shivered, his groin convulsing with a sensation both pleasurable and painful. He reached down for his needy cock. "Go head, Vig." Damn "But if you come without me sucking and fucking you, I win." What the Hell Since when had the tables turned against him. |
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