Earning a Name
9
Hi all, Just wanted to wish you all the best, no matter what it is you celebrate at this time of the year.
What else did he want
His breath was coming in quick, shallow huffs, his erection
pointing skyward for all to see. He couldn’t see; couldn’t hear past the voice
that seemed to be everywhere, his moaning and the occasional rustle of the
sheets beneath him.
He could feel. Merlin, could he feel! He knew that he must
make quite the sight, arching and moaning like a wanton streetwitch…
but he couldn’t bring himself to rightly care. The hands seemed to be
everywhere at once, now reduced to a few fingers and a palm making patterns along
his chest and stomach.
The pressure on the fingers was lessening though, each circuit
seemingly harder to sense and enjoy. They were leaving. No!
They suddenly stopped altogether, leaving Draco fully
sense-deprived except for the pungent smell of his desire that seemed to permeate
the room.
“No?” the voice finally asked,
sounding slightly surprised but vastly amused and not a little husky. Merlin,
had he said that out loud?
“Don’t stop.” he protested weakly, only partly embarrassed at
the way his voice still carried a moaning quality.
“Don’t stop what?” the voice continued, only adding to his
frustration.
“The touch… your hands; don’t stop.”
“Now, why would you care if I was touching my hands?”
He groaned, his head falling away from the voice.
“Touch
he amended, pining for their return, needing this lack of… everything to
change. He could not feel the other at all, he suddenly realized, having been
pulled from his half-lean to a fully flat position oh his back on the bed
sometime during the wandering fingers’ trek.
“Well, aren’t
we demanding,” the voice teased, running a handful of poised fingernails
lightly against his scalp before stopping once more.
“More" he begged, trailing his own hand down the center
of his chest from neck to pelvis; “here.”
The hand was captured before it moved past his navel, both
arms swiftly held above his head. “None of that now… only I get to touch.” the voice scolded seductively into his ear.
Draco realized the brunette must be leaning over most of his
body, the presence of nearby heat warming his entire torso. The shell of his
ear was licked and he couldn’t have suppressed the answering moan had he tried.
“Now,” the voice continued, a nose
nuzzling his neck and jaw, “where do you want to be touched?”
Merlin, where didn’t he
want to be touched! He just…
“Everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
“Anywhere!”
“Anywhere?”
“Merlin! Please, anywhere!” he
begged, wanting the teasing to stop; the want.
The twist
at his nipple caught him by total surprise, yelping as his body surged. A
lapping tongue soothed the nub, making him groan and arch. Yes. Don’t stop.
The tongue traveled downwards, zigzagging over his pecks and
stomach, dipping into his navel as the finger had done before, this action
swear that he arched impossibly high to meet the sinfully wet and malleable
muscle, his nerve endings dancing merrily. It left again.
“Now where?” the voice asked once more, eliciting from the
blonde a groan of frustration.
He tried to
reach out and grab hold of the other’s head, forcing the tongue to stay
were quickly caught once more, this time the grip just a fraction tighter.
“Come now, do I really have to bind them to the headboard before
you keep them where they belong?”
He struggled against the grip, electing a chuckle from above
him.
“Guess I’ll have to, after all.”
The touches
stopped and his wrists were freed. But a slight rustle and movement on the bed
told him the voice had left. He moaned at the loss.
Merlin… was he really going to tie Draco up? He suddenly
wondered, pictures of thick, rough ropes cutting into his thin wrists assaulting
his unseeing eyes. Would he bind the arms, as well? Make Draco suffer for
fighting against the hold? Would he-
A soft lick at his earlobe startled him, a hand running down
each arm the moment after. He let his hands be pulled slightly above him, still
mostly bent, the sucking on his earlobe Draco’s
makeshift reward.
“Entwine your fingers for me,” the voice told him gently,
Draco obliging. “Other way, so your nails touch your palms.”
Huh? The foreign hands guided his own, gently pushing the
fingers down instead of up. Oh.
A silky sash ran the valley created
on the back of his hand and up the row of fingers, then around the length of
his fingers after the other hand had brought the tips in line. A pull away from
Draco’s head locked the backs of his wrists flush
with each other, the sash encircling them several times before being tied off.
Another pull and his elbows locked and a second sash was pulled between them
and up towards the wrists.
The blonde tested the binding once
he felt the hands run down his arms sensually, proving the bindings held.
Another lick at his earlobe, this one accompanied with a
fingernail grazing his nipple.
“Now, where were we?”