Sugar, Secrets and Upheaval
Chapter 81 - A Single Kiss (TW) ⚣
We went back to our house.
Levi, however, seemed unable to find solace even in familiar surroundings. He moved with a singular focus, heading straight for his study. I watched as he grabbed the largest bottle of scotch he could find, his movements almost frantic, and then disappeared inside, the door closing behind him with a heavy click, the lock turning. The quest for answers had begun, but Levi was clearly choosing to face it alone.
A part of me was indeed relieved that he had found a new focus, a puzzle to occupy his brilliant mind and perhaps pull him away from the edge of his usual ennui. The ancient book, a tangible link to his father and a potential key to understanding their fractured family history, was something he could immerse himself in.
Yet, the events of the past two days in that isolated cabin weighed heavily on me. The brutal reality of the Conqueror, and the chilling moment when Levi had offered him oblivion… it all replayed in my mind, a disturbing loop of violence and grief.
A week passed in a quiet haze. The days bled into nights, marked only by the occasional clinking of glass from behind the closed study door and the infrequent sounds of Levi pacing within. The ancient book had become his sole focus, an obsession that consumed his waking hours. Meals went untouched, conversations unanswered.
The study door creaked open, and Levi emerged, blinking slightly in the relative brightness of the hallway. A week of isolation had left its mark; his eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled, and the faint scent of scotch clung to him. He held the ancient book carefully in his hands.
"I barely found anything," he said, his voice raspy from disuse. "It's impossible to retrieve every relevant document from the mansion. My father's notes… they're written in a way that seems deliberately obscure, a shorthand or code that only he and Ragnar could truly decipher. But… yes." He ran a tired hand over the worn leather of the book. "It was about astronomy. Stars, constellations, ancient tales… So, your initial assessment was correct, Raphael. The book belonged to my father. He was likely teaching him about the stars."
A faint shadow of a sad smile touched his lips. "Imagine that, the brutal Conqueror learning about celestial wonders from my gentle father."
The revelation, though incomplete, seemed to have brought him a measure of peace.
"Yeah… Did you think… Do you… The Conqueror killed your father because of his teachings?"
Levi shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he admitted. "The possibility is low. My father's notes… they hint at a deeper connection, a strange sort of respect, even. But with Ragnar, who truly knows what could have triggered his violence?"
He then looked at me. "But… thank you, Raphael. I would have given him the shot myself. And possibly felt nothing but oblivion in its aftermath. Instead, you gave me this…" He gestured to the ancient book in his hands. "You gave me a connection to my father, a mystery to unravel."
"You already know how to say thank you," I said, tapping my cheek pointedly.
Levi chuckled softly, a genuine sound that had been absent for days. He leaned in and placed a quick peck on my cheek. "Accept my apologies," he murmured, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I haven't showered in a really long while."
"Yeah, you smell faintly of scotch and old paper," I teased, wrinkling my nose playfully. "But it's a definite improvement. C'mon. Explain the contents of your father's astronomical insights while we finally get some breakfast. I'm starving, and frankly, so are you." I gestured towards the kitchen, eager to steer the conversation towards the mysteries of the book and away from the darkness of the past week.
…
A gentle rhythm settled back into our lives. The oppressive silence that had filled the house after our return from cabin gradually dissipated, replaced by the comforting cadence of Levi's voice. The ancient book still held his fascination, but it no longer consumed him entirely.
He eased back into his work, his sharp mind once again engaged with the complexities of his projects, but there was a noticeable shift. The frantic energy was gone, replaced by a quiet focus, and a newfound eagerness to return home each evening.
Our evenings became a tapestry woven with conversation. We delved into the vastness of the cosmos, his deep, measured tones painting vivid pictures of distant galaxies and the elegant dance of celestial bodies. His knowledge of astronomy, now intertwined with the personal connection to his father's studies, held a new depth and resonance.
In return, I spun outlandish tales from the chaotic world of entertainment, injecting levity and absurdity into our discussions, watching a rare smile touch his lips. Our culinary adventures continued, transforming our kitchen into a laboratory of flour and sugar. Levi discovered a genuine talent for baking, filling our home, with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and intricate pastries. A sense of normalcy, fragile but welcome, had begun to bloom midst the lingering shadows.
Levi emerged from the kitchen, a slightly exasperated look on his face, holding a tray of what were clearly intended to be muffins. "Raphael… I attempted to bake muffins, but it seems I inadvertently mixed chocolate chips with… ah… raisins. Utterly disgusting." He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
I raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on my lips. "You don't like raisins?"
He looked at me as if I had suggested a truly heinous act. "Does anyone like raisins? They are an abomination. Dehydrated, shriveled grapes masquerading as something palatable. They ruin perfectly good baked goods with their chewy presence."
“Calm down, Levi. If you don’t want them we can take them to Finn and Maya, yes?”
"Calm down?" Levi repeated, his voice still laced with mock outrage. "Raphael, we are talking about the culinary equivalent of finding a spider in your shoe. This is not a matter to be taken lightly." He held up a muffin with a visible raisin embedded within its otherwise chocolate-flecked surface, as if presenting evidence of a grave injustice.
Despite his dramatic pronouncements, a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "However," he conceded, a thoughtful expression replacing the theatrical disgust, "your suggestion regarding Finn and Maya… that might be a solution. They possess a peculiar fondness for… questionable food choices." He shuddered dramatically. "Yes. Let us inflict these raisin-laden abominations upon their unsuspecting palates."
“Ah, Levi. You are so cute when you act a tiny bit menacing. Were you thinking about pranking Finn and Maya?”
A slow smile spread across Levi's face, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Cute, am I?" he purred, a playful edge to his voice. "Perhaps there is still some of the old monster lurking beneath this veneer of domesticity and astronomical study." He leaned closer, a conspiratorial whisper in the warm air. “On the topic of, menacing, my dearest. The said paraphernalia have arrived. Wish to take look?” Levi asked.
“Yes. Immediately.”
It was kinda bizarre how he couldn't just say sex toys but, the word has it’s edge.
"Yes. Immediately," he echoed my reply, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He took my hand, his touch sending a familiar thrill through me. "Come. Let's explore the… darker possibilities of domestic bliss." He led me away from the kitchen and the abandoned tray of raisin-infused muffins.
…
He unzipped the heavy leather bag. His eyes held a glint of anticipation, a playful darkness that always sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. The contents he revealed were a carefully curated collection: supple leather cuffs that whispered of control, a set of paddles in varying weights and textures promising delightful sting, the sleek, coiled menace of cattle whips hinting at thrilling sensations, soft velvet blindfolds to heighten other senses, lengths of black rope suggesting intricate possibilities, and the breathtaking complexity of full-body cuffs that spoke of complete surrender.
"Dearest," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth through me. "Today, we chart new territories of sensation. Consider this," he picked up a particularly elegant paddle with a flourish, "a cartographer's tool for the landscape of pleasure. And these," he held up the intricate body cuffs, their design almost architectural, "a framework for exquisite exploration."
He moved with a deliberate grace, laying out the instruments of our exploration on the large bed, each piece catching the soft light filtering through the curtains.
“Now, my dear. The question of the century is here. Do you wish to take control?”
Levi's voice was a low, suggestive purr. He watched me, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, as if he already knew the answer that trembled on the edge of my tongue.
"W-What?" I stammered, the unexpected directness of his question catching me slightly off guard. A flush crept up my neck.
He chuckled softly. "Oh, no need to be shy, my dear," he said, his voice laced with a playful knowingness. "Do not lie to yourself. Not to me, not now." His eyes held mine, unwavering. "Don't you wish to make me beg for you? To hear that sharp intellect reduced to pleasured pleas? Don't you wish me to surrender completely, to relinquish all control into your hands?"
He took a slow step closer. "And be honest now, Raphael," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, a husky whisper that seemed to caress my skin. "How many times, in the quiet corners of your mind, have you fantasized about me knelt down between your legs, my dear? Imagined the power, the exquisite vulnerability?"
"I...I..." The admission caught in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, the sudden shift in the dynamic leaving me momentarily breathless. My gaze flickered from his intensely focused eyes to the heavy black leather collar he now held, the silver chain gleaming in the light.
"I am sure this will make you think once again, my dear," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive drawl. He didn't fasten the collar around his neck, but held it close.
Ah, this seductive devil. Of course I had thought about it. Multiple times? Countless times. The image of Levi, the ever-composed, the master of his own restraint, finally losing that control, surrendering completely... it was a recurring fantasy.
“Tell me, dear,” he said, his gaze holding mine captive, “don’t you harbor the exquisite wish to use this body – every plane, every curve, every nerve ending – entirely for your own pleasure? To explore its depths, to command its responses, to mold its sensations to your precise desires?”
A wry smile touched my lips, a flicker of amusement dancing in my eyes despite the quickening pulse in my veins. "N-No... not today," I managed, the denial laced with a playful hint of future possibilities. "But the option... oh, it will certainly reside in the forefront of my mind. The image of you bound, kneeling... consider it a delicious bookmark for another chapter."
My gaze flickered back to the leather bag. "Today, however," I continued, a genuine curiosity now overriding the initial surprise, "my interest lies more in the instruments of sensation themselves."
"Precisely, my dear," Levi purred, a knowing glint in his eyes. "As I said, today is about exploration. And the most exquisite explorations begin with understanding one's own desires."
He took my hand, his touch sending a familiar thrill through me, and gently guided it towards the collection laid out on the bed. "Start slow," he suggested, his voice a soothing murmur. "Take a moment to truly consider what excites you. Is it the sharp crack of the paddle against skin? The slick slide of leather? The weighty thud of the flogger? Or perhaps it's something more abstract... the sound of a whispered command, the sensation of utter helplessness, the knowledge of being completely at my mercy?"
A slow smile spread across my face as I truly considered his question. "Let me think..." I murmured, my fingers tracing the cool surface of a paddle.
Is it the sensation of pain? Yes. I didn't even know that part of me existed before Levi. But he... he so expertly navigated the hidden pathways of my body and brain, coaxing out that delicious ache.
Is it being ordered? I considered the times Levi's sharp commands had sent a thrill through me. Sometimes, yes. But there's a certain pleasure in the push and pull, isn't there? A little defiance, a touch of the bratty resistance before yielding... that's part of the game.
Is it the fear? My gaze flickered to Levi, a genuine respect for his formidable presence coloring my thoughts. Definitely. There's always that edge with him, that knowledge of his capacity. He knows how to keep me teetering on the precipice, always aware of the potential intensity.
Is it complete obedience? Only if I get to be a little defiant first.
My gaze returned to Levi. But most definitely... it's the unexpectedness. The anticipation of how he'll introduce something new, the ingenious ways he'll find to push me further, to make me reach heights I hadn't even imagined.
I looked at the toys again, my fingers now lingering on the sleek coil of a cattle whip. It's the trust, isn't it? The knowledge that even in the most intense moments, I am safe.
He was always careful, always knew how to yield touch of pain and deviance with complete control.
Levi held out a sleek, dark wood paddle.
"Now, my dear," he said, his voice a low invitation, "if the realm of imagination has offered its initial delights, let us move to the more... tangible aspects of our exploration." He gestured with the paddle. "Take this. Apply it to yourself. Tell me precisely what you can tolerate, what sparks that particular thrill within you."
His gaze then swept across the array of toys laid out on the bed. "And then," he continued, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, "do the same with the others. Experiment. Discover what resonates within you."
I took the offered paddle, the smooth wood cool against my palm. With a deliberate breath, I raised it and brought it down against the flesh of my thigh. A sharp thwack echoed in the room.
"Hmm," I mused, rubbing the slight tingle that followed. "This one doesn't really hurt, not in a truly unpleasant way. But Gods, the sound it makes... it's quite something, isn't it?" A flicker of intrigue sparked within me.
Next, my fingers gravitated towards the cattle whip. A sense of anticipation, mixed with a touch of apprehension, filled me. I unfurled a short length and with a flick of my wrist, let it land across my other thigh. A sharp, distinct crack sliced through the air.
"Ouch!" I exclaimed, a gasp escaping my lips. My hand went to the reddening welt. "The sound is definitely... nice. Sharper, more visceral than the paddle. And this one hurts," I admitted, a strange thrill coiling within me. "But... it's a nice hurt. A clean, sharp sensation that... wakes things up." A curious smile touched my lips.
"Intriguing," Levi murmured, his gaze intent as he observed the subtle shifts in my expression. I could almost see the data points being meticulously cataloged in his sharp mind. "And what about the extremes, my dear? The caress of cold, the insistent warmth of heat?"
He paused, allowing the questions to settle. "Like the sharp bite of ice against your skin... or the slow, deliberate drip of warm wax?"
“Your hands are always cold so, no ice, but something hot, maybe?”
A slow, knowing smile spread across Levi's face, a spark of anticipation lighting his eyes. "Ah, a discerning palate," he purred, his gaze tracing the line of my jaw. "Yes, my hands often possess a certain... chill. Not ideal for cultivating warmth."
He turned towards a small table beside the bed, where a few intriguing items lay waiting. "But 'something hot'... that offers a multitude of possibilities, doesn't it?" He picked up a smooth, polished stone, dark and heavy in his hand. "Heated to the right temperature, this can offer a deep, penetrating warmth, easing tension, awakening nerve endings in a most... persuasive manner."
“Levi… I think I found what intrigues me the most,” I began, the confession tumbling out before I could stop it. "It is you, actually."
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but the words continued to flow, a sudden, unstoppable current.
“It’s you making the choices for me. You thinking for me, studying me.” My gaze flickered over his chiseled face, cataloging the subtle shifts in his expression—the slight furrow of his brow, the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. "Yeah. It is not about surrendering to you." I let out a soft, shaky breath. "It's about forgetting everything."
A slow smile, genuine and touched with a hint of possessiveness, spread across Levi's face. He placed the heated stone back on the table, his gaze now solely focused on me. "Ah, Raphael," he murmured, his voice softening, losing its playful edge and gaining a deeper resonance. "You cut to the very heart of it, don't you?"
His hands reached out, cupping my face gently, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "It was never truly about blind surrender, was it? Not for you. It's about that exquisite relinquishing of the mental clutter, that delicious freedom from the constant hum of thought."
His hands slid down my neck, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of my collarbone. "Here, with me, in this moment... there is only sensation, only the dance between us." His gaze dropped to my lips. "And I, my dearest, find an unparalleled pleasure in being your architect of bliss."
His lips, as always, were impossibly soft, a velvety caress against mine. It was a texture I had grown accustomed to, yet each time, it held a subtle surprise.
As the kiss deepened, it became more than just a familiar gesture. There was a gentle pressure, a subtle yielding, a silent invitation to delve further. It was in that moment that I realized the true depth of our connection. Even in the simplest of acts, there were always new nuances to discover.
Levi leaned back just a fraction. "My dearest," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing the curve of my jaw, "you must understand, a man navigating the complexities of my... life... did not often have the luxury, nor frankly, the inherent interest, in cultivating these..." He gestured with a slight inclination of his head towards the toys. "...these particular desires. So, if my exploration in this realm seems a touch...clumsy... I beg your indulgence."
A playful smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Oh," I teased softly, a hint of disbelief in my voice, "is this... your first time?"
A wry smile touched his lips, a familiar glint returning to his eyes. "Indeed, my dearest," he confirmed, his voice regaining its characteristic confidence. "But do not fret. As I have demonstrated in countless other endeavors, I am a rather quick study. Consider this another fascinating puzzle to be solved... with your expert guidance, of course."
Ah, this manipulative, utterly alluring devil. Just as my mind was adrift in the comforting currents of our shared intimacy, reveling in the profound connection forged over time, he casually dropped this unexpected truth.
“You are also cute when you are menacing Levi, so a little mischief would be nice.”
His fingers tightened their gentle grip on my hand. "Consider it incorporated into the curriculum. A dash of your delightful defiance, met with my... persuasive guidance. A beautiful balance, wouldn't you agree?"
He had burrowed his way into the deepest recesses of my being, a slow, deliberate corruption that I had ultimately welcomed.
Just months ago, a tremor of fear would run through me at his presence. Now, a different kind of tremor coursed through my veins – a yearning for that controlled edge, a desire for him to be just a touch... menacing. In my own way, I had been trying to domesticate a monster, to understand the beautiful darkness that resided within him.
But the irony, delicious and undeniable, was that in trying to understand him, I had become willingly captive to his allure. The monster hadn't been tamed; instead, he had expertly ensnared me, his captivating darkness now holding me in its irresistible embrace.
It struck me then, too, how my own thresholds had been irrevocably altered by my life intertwined with his. Just a year prior, I was simply Raphael Everett, Skye, an actor navigating the predictable currents of that world. Then came the impulsive marriage, a transaction initially driven by the pragmatic allure of money and influence.
But Levi... he was so much more than a means to an end. His intricate mind, the sheer weight of his power, and the unexpected loneliness that clung to him like a shadow – they had drawn me in, sparked a genuine curiosity that transcended the initial arrangement. At first, he was an enigma, a breathtakingly handsome puzzle begging to be solved.
Then came the glimpses into the darker corners of his world, the encounters with figures like his formidable mother and the terrifying Conqueror. Standing beside those monstrous entities, Levi seemed almost... normal.
He was still Levi Blake, of course – the man who had crushed a nation's crown to dust in a single, decisive day. That raw power was always a tangible presence. But unlike his other family, there was a crucial difference: restraint. My experiences by his side – navigating the treacherous currents of noble society, the sting of gunfire, the brutal force of being hurled across a room, the sharp agony of broken ribs... yes, all of it. It had forged within me a resilience, a tolerance for fear that had risen to a point where Levi's intensity no longer held the same paralyzing terror it once did. And in that newfound courage, understanding and a genuine connection had finally taken root.
My thoughts, a tangled web of reflection and realization, must have lingered too long. Levi with that subtle possessiveness that flared whenever his attention wasn't fully captured, and that endearingly petty grudge he held against anything that stole my focus, clearly noticed my mental drift.
His hands shot out, gripping my shoulders with a sudden, decisive strength that brooked no argument. The next moment happened in a rush – a swift, controlled motion – and I found myself deposited unceremoniously onto the plush surface of the bed.
He loomed over me, a shadow against the soft light, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Attention, my dearest," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, thrilling register. "Tonight's lesson, if you will: pain, pleasure... with a touch of menace."
Ah, yes. In that moment, with his dominant stance and that predatory gleam in his eyes. I could almost see the horns and tail of the magnificent monster I had come to crave.
"Close your eyes, Raphael," Levi commanded, his voice a low, resonant thrum that seemed to vibrate through the very air. "And make no sound. Not a whimper, not a gasp."
His breath, warm against my ear, sent a shiver down my spine. "If you open your eyes..."
It was a masterful stroke, a touch of menace that sent a thrill of delicious fear coursing through me, even as I willingly obeyed, my eyelids fluttering shut.
A faint clattering sound reached my ears, close enough to make the hairs on my temple prickle. He was retrieving something from the bedside table, the subtle friction of wood against metal or glass a tantalizing prelude to whatever came next. Then, the unmistakable little squish of a lube bottle… a familiar sound that usually heralded a specific kind of intimate exploration with his long, slender fingers. My body instinctively tensed in anticipation.
But no. The coldness that followed wasn't the smooth, chill of his hands. This was different. It was a more uniform cold, a distinct lack of the subtle give and texture of skin. My brow furrowed beneath my closed eyelids. Oval? The shape registered in my mind, smooth and unbroken. Perhaps... a small vibrator, its surface cool against my skin.
A cool, smooth pressure bloomed against my entrance, the unexpected shape – that enigmatic egg – being gently urged inward. The initial sensation was startling, a distinct and unfamiliar coldness that stole my breath and triggered an involuntary gasp.
"What did I say about sounds, Raphael?" Levi's voice was a low, firm reprimand.
I gave a slow, deliberate nod, the muscles in my neck protesting slightly against the enforced stillness. Then, with another gentle but insistent push, the cool, smooth object slid fully inside me. The mystery of its nature lingered. Was it a vibrator? The persistent coldness argued against it, a chill that felt almost like it had been submerged in ice.
Then came the telltale squish of the lube bottle once more, followed by the distinct pressure of another object being introduced. They weren't large, perhaps the width of two of his slender fingers. He began to ease the second one inside, the unfamiliar fullness stretching me in a novel way. A wave of sensation, a strange mix of cold and expanding pressure, threatened to erupt in a gasp, but I clenched my jaw with fierce determination.
"One more, my dear?" Levi murmured, his voice low. His gaze, though I couldn't see it, felt intensely focused, gauging my reaction to the unusual fullness. "Are you alright?"
The sensation, while strange and undeniably intense, wasn't truly painful. The eggs were small enough, and the lubrication generous. A slow, deliberate nod was my only permissible response.
He seemed to take that minimal movement as his cue. The familiar squish of the lube echoed once more, followed by the distinct pressure of a third intrusion. Slowly he began to ease the third egg inside, the internal stretching now becoming quite significant. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple as I fought to maintain the rigid silence, my jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
As he pushed the third egg fully inside, his cold palm settled against my abdomen. It wasn't a probing pressure, not yet. It was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers splayed across my skin, mapping the contours of my body. At first, it was almost soothing.
Then, gradually, the pressure increased. Not enough to cause pain, but enough to make the internal objects shift and press against my inner walls. Fuck. I could feel every smooth curve, every subtle indentation of those alien shapes moving within me. And with each incremental increase in his external pressure, they seemed to explore new territory inside.
A strangled gasp threatened to escape, but I bit down hard on my lip. My hands clenched into fists, digging into the crisp cotton of the sheets.
"The clock has started, my dearest," Levi murmured, his voice a thrilling pronouncement. His cold hand remained pressed against my abdomen, a subtle pressure. "And now, for your commendable restraint, for being such a good boy while we waited... you have permission to make a sound. Better make it loud, Raphael. As loud as you possibly can."
A raw, guttural cry tore from my throat, a sound born of the pent-up tension, the strange fullness within, and the sheer relief of finally being allowed to vocalize the intense sensations.
"What... clock?"
Levi's smirk widened, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "Ah, pulla," he murmured. "Do not inquire into the intricacies of time in this moment. Isn't the prickling anticipation, the delicious fear of the unknown... infinitely more stimulating?"
He leaned closer, his breath ghosting across my lips. "Trust me, my dearest. The ticking has begun. And what it heralds... well, that is a pleasure best savored in its unfolding."
Yes. Gods, yes. The unknown, especially when orchestrated by him, was so fucking delicious.
"I have always found it particularly... amusing," Levi murmured, his gaze dropping to my chest, "how your nipples bloom with such delicate color as you approach your release. A subtle blush of anticipation. Tonight, my dearest Raphael, let us see if we can coax that blush into a more... vibrant hue. Perhaps even a rich, crimson red."
The anticipation alone sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.
His hand moved again, reaching for the bedside drawer. He retrieved a pair of nipple clamps. These were not the simple metal kind I had encountered before. These had small, intricate fastenings and, trailing from each, a delicate silver chain that linked them together.
"These," he explained, his voice a low purr as he held them aloft, "are a little different. The inner surfaces are not metal, so do not be alarmed by the initial touch. Today, as I promised, we will begin slowly, with sensation rather than outright pain."
His cool fingers gently cupped each of my nipples, positioning the clamps with meticulous precision. The initial contact was a strange mix of pressure and a faint coolness. Another involuntary gasp escaped my lips.
"They are adjustable, you see," he continued, his gaze locking with mine. "For now, it is merely a firm pressure. But," his smirk widened, a hint of the promised menace returning, "should you prove to be a recalcitrant pulla, that pressure can be... easily intensified. And the chain? Well, that offers possibilities for further... connection."
The exquisite torture was escalating perfectly. The subtle, insistent pressure on my nipples, Levi's delicious brand of controlled mischief, the bizarre and undeniably arousing presence of those cold, smooth eggs shifting within me, and the ever-present, enigmatic ticking clock. Every single nerve ending in my body felt heightened, the fine hairs on the nape of my neck standing on end in a delicious anticipation.
"Fine. You have my undivided, and thoroughly prickled, attention," I conceded, a playful edge creeping into my voice despite the knot of anticipation tightening in my stomach. "Just don't keep me in suspense for too long. My capacity for 'good boy' behavior has its limits, you know."
A slow, predatory smile stretched across Levi's features, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "Ah, pulla," he purred. "What, pray tell, about my capacity for being a 'bad boy'?"
"Oh, I haven't forgotten, Levi," I replied, my gaze locking with his, a spark of defiance flickering within me. "In fact, it's that capacity that makes this so... engaging. Let's see whose limits we reach first, shall we?"
"Is that a bet?" he murmured, his eyes gleaming with challenge.
"Maybe?" I echoed, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.
His smile widened, a flash of white teeth. "A bet with me? Ah, my pulla. This means war." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, his gaze intense. "And you should know, my dear, that I always play to win... especially when there's a crown involved."
Fuck. What had I just done? I had just thrown down the gauntlet with Levi, the man who had casually dismantled five centuries-old monarchy as if it were a particularly bothersome chess game.
"It is a bet, Levi," I declared, a wide, reckless grin stretching across my face. Yes. This precarious balance, teetering on the edge of a knife, the exhilarating dance between control and surrender with a man like him... it was undeniably, exquisitely arousing.
"Ah, my pulla," Levi purred, his smile widening into something truly predatory. "Always so eager for the dance, always with that delightful spark of fire in your eyes. Thank you kindly for this... enthusiastic offer."
He reached for the sleek wooden paddle. "Now, before we begin this... engagement," he continued, his voice taking on a more measured tone, "let us establish the parameters. I am not a brute, Raphael. While the edge is enticing, I have no desire to push you to a point where you feel the need to invoke a safe word. However," his gaze sharpened, "should you utter 'stop, no more,' the bet is concluded. Are these rules perfectly clear?"
"Perfectly clear, Levi," I affirmed, meeting his intense gaze. "'Stop, no more' ends the game. But rest assured, those words are not yet in my vocabulary." A beat of silence passed, then I tilted my head, a curious glint in my eyes. "But... what about the spoils of war, Levi? What is the prize for the victor in this... delightful wager?"
"If I am so... unfortunate... as to lose, my dear Raphael," he murmured, his voice a low, thrilling promise, "you may do anything you desire. Utterly anything. My limits in your hands are... nonexistent. You could carve your initials into my skin if the whim struck you. My surrender will be absolute."
He paused, his eyes locking back onto mine. "But what, my audacious pulla, will you offer me when you inevitably find yourself on the losing end of this little conflict?"
“Ah, Levi. I know exactly what to give you. If, I mean if, you win, I will not call you by your name anymore. I will call you with endearment, of your choosing.”
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Levi's face, the predatory gleam in his eyes softening into something akin to genuine amusement. "A clever wager, pulla. A subtle shift in the very fabric of our dynamic. You would forsake the crisp precision of my name for the warmth of endearment... a constant reminder of your... defeat."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Consider the stakes well and truly set, my dear Raphael. For the privilege of hearing those carefully chosen words fall from your lips... I find myself even more... motivated to win."
“I am also curious about the endearment you will choose.”
“Do not worry my dear, you will find out, in… 40 minutes.”
A chill, far more potent than the cold eggs within me, snaked down my spine. Forty minutes. A deadline.
"Forty minutes," I echoed, the words barely a whisper. Was it a limit? A countdown to something specific he had planned?
Levi's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Indeed, my dear. Forty minutes to explore the exquisite landscape of sensation, to push our boundaries, to determine the victor of our little war. And then," his gaze dropped meaningfully to my lips, "you will have the distinct honor of christening me with your chosen endearment. Unless, of course," his voice lowered even further, a dangerous caress, "you find yourself... otherwise occupied at the forty-minute mark."
A gasp hitched in my throat as I saw the generous amount of lubricant slicking Levi's already impressive erection. His eyes, dark and intent, locked with mine, a silent declaration of intent. Then, his grip on my legs tightened with a sudden, brutal strength, his nails digging sharply into the delicate skin of my thighs. He effortlessly maneuvered my body, my knees draped over his shoulders, opening me completely to his gaze and his intentions.
"The bet is on, my dear," he growled, his voice thick with arousal and a hint of the promised menace. "Be ready."
A reflexive inhale filled my lungs, bracing myself for the inevitable. He released his hold on my legs, his hands now gripping my hips with the same fierce intensity, his fingernails once again digging into the flesh of my waist.
The presence of the eggs had indeed created a pathway, a strange and slick invitation. Yet, the sheer size and insistent pressure of Levi's entry was a different beast entirely. He slid inside with a deceptive ease, but the stretch was immediate and profound, a searing expansion that made me gasp despite myself. He was so much larger than the smooth, cold intrusions already residing within me. With every inch he claimed, I could feel the eggs being displaced, jostled, rolling against his shaft and my inner walls. It was a sensation unlike anything I had experienced before.
"You are allowed to make sounds, dearest," Levi murmured, his voice a low, husky invitation as he slid deeper within me, filling me completely. "They are a beautiful symphony."
Ah, fuck. This magnificent devil. Praise. It was my undoing. With that single, permissive utterance, my muscles instinctively clenched around him, a tight, involuntary embrace that mirrored the sudden spike in my arousal.
"My, my..." Levi purred, a satisfied amusement lacing his voice as he felt my immediate response. "Just one word, is it? Such exquisite sensitivity. Allow me to continue, then, and see what other melodies we can coax from you."
He laid me down, but my legs, still draped high over his shoulders. It arched my back, thrusting my hips upward. Bent double, I could now see the subtle protrusions beneath the skin of my abdomen, the faint outline of the eggs pressing outwards. A jolt of something akin to horrified fascination, mixed with a potent wave of arousal, shot through me.
Levi crawled up my body until his lips were close to my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "What a good boy you are, Raphael," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that both praised and possessed. "Taking it all so beautifully."
I could feel the muscles around Levi tightening involuntarily. Fuck. Twenty-five minutes, he had been inside me for twenty-five minutes without a single thrust, and I was already teetering on the edge. A flush, hot and undeniable, spread across my chest and up my neck.
"Crimson suits you so well," Levi's voice, a low purr, confirmed what I already suspected. He had been watching, observing the telltale signs of my surrender. And then, he added another layer to the sensory overload. He reached down and gently tugged on the chain connecting the nipple clamps.
Now I understood the purpose of those seemingly decorative chains. The pull was subtle at first, a gentle stretching sensation that intensified the pressure on my nipples, drawing them taut. It was a sharp, focused sting. The pain was undeniable, a raw, electrifying jolt that shot through my chest.
"Pulla," Levi commanded, his voice a low growl as he shifted onto his knees, positioning himself for the first thrust. "Watch carefully. Do not let your gaze linger anywhere else."
The slow, deliberate thrusting began. Fuck. Each movement was agonizingly deep, stretching me in ways that made me gasp. With every push and pull, the alien shapes beneath my skin danced across my abdomen, a bizarre and mesmerizing spectacle. Moans, involuntary and raw, escaped my lips with each deep penetration, the pleasure bordering on pain. And I obeyed his command. My eyes were glued to the fascinating, disturbing ballet unfolding on my own body.
Moans, raw and guttural, tore from my throat, each one a testament to the exquisite torment he was inflicting. My hips bucked instinctively against his slow, powerful thrusts, desperate for more of that stretching, consuming sensation.
"Moving on your own accord, pulla?" Levi purred, his voice laced with a dangerous amusement. "It appears my generosity has been... misinterpreted."
His hand reached down, his fingers deftly adjusting the nipple clamps. The tightening was immediate, undeniable. The clamps, which had been a firm pressure before, now bit into my sensitive flesh with a sharp, insistent agony.
A raw cry tore from my throat, a sound I couldn't suppress. It was louder, more visceral than any sound I had made before. The stretching within, the throbbing fullness, and now the sharp, biting pain... it was almost too much, yet unbearably arousing.
"Generosity?" I gasped, the word catching in my throat as the sharp tug on the chain sent a searing jolt through my nipples. "You... ah!"
Levi's gaze flickered down at me. "Do not forget the bet." He then glanced at his phone. "Now, we have precisely twenty-five minutes remaining."
The slow, deliberate thrusts were replaced by a relentless tempo, each movement deep, so impossibly deep, and undeniably forceful. The eggs within me were tossed and turned with each powerful penetration. Just as I thought I was beginning to acclimate to the intense sensation, Levi shifted his angle, his thick cock slamming directly into my most sensitive spot. Fuck.
It was a sensory overload. The sharp, insistent pull on my nipples had them throbbing, the skin beneath the clamps burning a furious red. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring Levi's dark silhouette above me, each breath a shallow, ragged gasp. The relentless pounding, the alien movement within, the focused pressure on my sweet spot... it was pushing me relentlessly towards the precipice.
And then, it hit. A violent, all-consuming orgasm ripped through me, unlike anything I had ever experienced. The release was explosive, shattering, so powerful that the thick, hot spurt of my seed erupted with surprising force, spraying not just my abdomen but arcing upwards to dampen my entire torso and even soak a patch of the pillowcase beneath my head.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
What in the seven hells was that? It felt like being caught in the epicenter of an earthquake, a violent tremor that shook me from the inside out. Not a single muscle in my body escaped its relentless grip, each fiber clenching and spasming. My limbs trembled, my chest heaved with ragged breaths.
"Levi..." I whispered, my voice still thick with the aftershocks of that incredible release. "I... I think my soul just left my body for a moment there."
Levi's expression, which had held a flicker of satisfaction, hardened at my words. "While I am... gratified that you experienced such a profound release, pulla," he said, his voice taking on a cooler edge, "the mischievous part of me feels somewhat... neglected. A little recalibration, I believe, is in order. A touch of punishment, perhaps?"
"W-What... Punishment?" I stammered, the lingering euphoria abruptly replaced by a knot of apprehension.
"Indeed, my dear," Levi confirmed, his gaze unwavering. He withdrew completely from my body. He reached for the leather bag and extracted a slender metal rod. My breath hitched. Ah, shit. Was he truly going to... slide that inside my dick?
"Shit, no," I blurted out, a wave of panic washing over me. "I am not ready for that, Levi. Please. Are you really going to... push that inside my dick?"
The thought alone was enough to make me recoil.
Levi's expression remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the metal rod in his hand. "Yes, Raphael," he stated, his voice devoid of the earlier warmth. "You always seem to leave me behind in the throes of your pleasure. Consider this... retribution. A reminder that your pleasure and mine are intertwined, and that leaving me wanting has consequences."
"No, no, Levi," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "Please, choose something else. I am not ready to go that far. Not yet."
Levi paused, his gaze softening slightly as he considered my plea. "Understood, my dearest," he conceded, placing the metal rod back in the bag. He reached into the bag once more, the rustle of leather filling the silence. "Cattle whip it is then."
"Yeah," I agreed quickly, a wave of relief washing over me, albeit tinged with a fresh dose of anxiety. "Whip is... fine. Definitely preferable to pushing steel inside my dick."
The mere thought of that metal invading such a sensitive part of me made my whole body shudder involuntarily.
Levi returned, the supple leather of the cattle whip snaking through his fingers. "All fours, my dear," he commanded, his voice regaining its earlier authoritative edge.
I obeyed, shifting onto my hands and knees, my back arched, presenting him with a vulnerable canvas. He followed, crawling onto the bed behind me and, with a single, forceful thrust, buried himself deep within me once more. This position was far more intense. The angle shifted the pressure of the eggs, now pressing directly and uncomfortably against my lower abdomen with every thrust, a constant, dull ache beneath the sharper sensations. And then, the bastard that he was, Levi reached forward and pressed my neck firmly against the pillow, immobilizing my upper body. This subtle shift caused the chain connecting the nipple clamps to pull taut with each of his movements, sending sharp, jolting stabs of pain through my already tender nipples.
The crack of the cattle whip sliced through the air, a sharp, violent sound that immediately tightened every muscle in my body. Then came the searing sting as the leather landed squarely on my ass, a sudden, burning line of agony that made me gasp. It was undeniably painful, a raw, immediate fire, yet there was a control to it, a clear indication that Levi was holding back his full force.
The second crack followed swiftly, the anticipation almost as agonizing as the impact. This time, the burning line traced its way across my back, a wider, more diffuse pain that radiated outwards, making my shoulders tense and my breath hitch. It was deeper, more resonant than the first strike.
"Faster or slower?" Levi's voice was a low, dangerous purr.
"Faster," I gasped, the word torn from my throat, a desperate plea for more sensation, even if it meant more pain.
Levi didn't hesitate. The rhythm of his deep thrusts intensified, and with each powerful lunge, the cattle whip found a new target on my exposed flesh. A sharp sting across my ass with one thrust, followed by a burning line across my waist with the next. Then the snap and fire on my thighs, then the searing kiss on my back. Sometimes the leather curled around the sides of my rib cage, a shocking, breath-stealing impact.
The wet, rhythmic sounds of our slick bodies grinding together formed the bassline of our brutal symphony. Above it, the sharp, violent crack of the whip punctuated each of Levi's forceful thrusts, a percussive beat of controlled agony against my skin. And then there was my own contribution: ragged, desperate breaths that hitched and sobbed, punctuated by involuntary moans that grew louder, more primal with each searing lash and deep penetration.
This brutal symphony of sensation; it was a tidal wave threatening to pull me under. Every nerve ending screamed, a chaotic chorus of pleasure and agony that blurred the edges of my control. My breath hitched and shuddered, my muscles clenched and spasmed involuntarily, and the intoxicating pull of the approaching precipice was almost irresistible. Just one more push, one more lash, one more deep, stretching thrust, and I knew I would shatter completely.
"Time is over," Levi's voice cut through the haze of sensation, a sharp, commanding tone that jolted me back to a sliver of awareness.
For a disoriented moment, his words didn't register. Then, I felt him release the grip on the whip, the absence of the stinging lashes a sudden, disorienting void. And then I understood. A strange, internal shift began to occur. A subtle pressure built within me, a stretching, a giving way.
"What... What the fuck is happening?" I gasped, the words ripped from my throat, raw with confusion and the sheer intensity of the internal event. The sensation was overwhelming, unlike anything I could have conceived. It wasn't pain, not exactly, but the sheer volume of liquid flooding my insides was unbelievable, a warm, slick tide rising with each of Levi's relentless thrusts. More and more of the strange substance poured out, coating his cock, filling me with an alien fullness.
It felt... good. In a deeply unsettling way. The strangeness of it was undeniable, yet it was also undeniably arousing.
My body was a battleground of conflicting signals. It was too much, too new, too intense.
"Levi..." I choked out, my voice thick with confusion and a growing sense of alarm. "What... what is happening?"
"Ah, do not be scared," Levi purred, his voice soothing midst the chaos of our joined bodies. "It is merely more water-based lubricant."
But that wasn't it. That clinical explanation did nothing to quell the rising tide of disorientation. It wasn't the slickness; it was the feeling of my focus dissolving, the edges of my vision softening.
"You... need to... stop," I gasped, the words barely a coherent whisper. My vision swam, the edges blurring into indistinct shapes. "I am gonna... faint."
The overwhelming sensations, the alien internal flood, the relentless physical exertion – it was all too much. My body was shutting down.
"What?" Levi's voice, moments before a low growl of dominance, now held a sharp note of alarm. In a swift, almost frantic movement, he slid out of me and was instantly at my side.
"Shit..." I mumbled, my voice weak and distant, a wave of nausea washing over me. "I lost the bet... and my consciousness..."
"Raphael, are you alright?" Levi's voice cut through the fog in my mind. I felt the cool touch of his hand against my cheek, a gentle pat that grounded me slightly.
Just as the darkness threatened to claim me, my eyelids heavy and fluttering closed, Levi, ever the ruthlessly efficient bastard, gave a brutal yank on the chain connecting the nipple clamps. The searing, white-hot agony that shot through my chest was so immediate and intense it slammed my consciousness back into my body.
"Fuck! Ouch!" I gasped, my eyes snapping open, the hazy darkness instantly banished. It hurt like hell, a vicious agony that made me arch off the bed, but gods damn it, it worked.
"Accept my apologies for the... abruptness of the method. But... I thought it might prove effective in restoring your awareness."
"Yeah," I croaked, my chest still throbbing from the brutal yank. "It did. It definitely worked. And yeah... it hurt like hell. You couldn't have just splashed water on my face?"
"Time was of the essence, Raphael," Levi explained, his gaze direct. "You were teetering on the precipice of unconsciousness. Water would have been too gradual, too uncertain. This," he gestured vaguely towards the still-taut chain, "was immediate. Effective. Though I concede, rather... forceful."
"What the actual fuck was that, Levi?" I demanded, my voice still shaky. "That was way too much. The sensation was so intense it made me faint! Faint, Levi!"
"Ah, my dear Raphael," Levi said, a hint of contrition in his tone. "I apologize if the experience was... overwhelming. They were I mentioned, merely a generous quantity of water-based lubricant. I intended it to enhance the experience, not to... incapacitate you."
"So, frozen lube that melts inside me," I repeated slowly, still trying to wrap my head around the sheer oddity of it all. "You truly do have a mind that wanders down the most... unconventional paths, Levi. Was there a particular purpose behind this icy invasion?"
Levi's gaze softened slightly, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his intense eyes. "I recalled how... intensely pleasurable you found it when I... release within you, Raphael," he admitted, his voice a low murmur. "So... yes. I chose this method to provide a... familiar sensation, albeit in a novel way. A constant filling, as it were. However I appear to have been a tad too... enthusiastic in its execution."
I could have laughed, or cried, at the sheer, tragicomic elegance of it all.
"Ah..." I purred, a genuine smile finally breaking through the lingering haze of the intense experience. "You cute devil. I have to admit, the idea behind your frozen surprise was rather inspired, and the sensation... well, it was certainly unique. Intensely so. Just a tad overwhelming there for a moment." I took a deep breath, the adrenaline still thrumming beneath my skin. "But yes," I confirmed, meeting his gaze with a renewed spark of challenge, "if you're game, I'm ready to keep going."
"Spoken like a true masochist, Raphael. Very well. The game continues."
Without a moment's hesitation, he punctuated his statement with a sharp, brutal yank on the chain connecting the nipple clamps.
"Ouch! Fuck! I wasn't prepared for that!"
The unexpected jolt of pain shot through my chest. My breath hitched, and a fresh wave of heat flushed my skin.
A knowing smirk played on Levi's lips. "You liked it anyway." It wasn't a question, but a statement, laced with a certainty that both infuriated and, truth be told, aroused me.
"Yeah..." I conceded, the admission grudging. "Shit."
"Indeed," Levi purred, his fingers tracing the line of the chain between the clamps. "The terms were clear. The inability to maintain silence, the near loss of consciousness... the victory is mine, Raphael." A hint of triumph colored his voice, but it was tempered with a continued undercurrent of desire. "Now, my dear. Shall we delve deeper into the exquisite landscape of your sensitivities, exploring new territories? Or would you prefer we focus on refining the sensations we've already... unearthed?"
“I actually have another idea… You are not exactly a sadist right? You enjoy being dominant but… not inflicting the pain itself.”
"Intriguing observation, Raphael," Levi replied, his brow slightly furrowed. He released the chain, his gaze fixed on mine, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "And what leads you to that... hypothesis?"
“I mean… I thought it was kinda clear,” I said, my voice dropping, the words laced with a soft, knowing certainty. "If you enjoyed inflicting pain, you would have done it already, countless times." My eyes held his, a silent acknowledgment of the months we had spent together, the countless opportunities for him to indulge a darker side if it truly existed. "But you always focus on my pleasure, my desire. Never yours entirely."
"You are a perceptive creature, Raphael," he conceded, his voice losing some of its sharp edge. "The act of dominance, the ability to elicit such intense reactions from you... that is where my enjoyment lies. The pain, at times, is a tool. It is not the sole end."
He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw. "Your pleasure, your exquisite unraveling... that is the symphony I truly conduct."
“But I want to see what you wished to do,” I said, my voice soft but filled with a genuine curiosity that I knew would captivate his meticulous mind. "Without my input. You should also be the one that experimenting, learning, exploring." I gestured vaguely at the toys on the bed, a playful smirk on my face. "Otherwise, Levi," I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "it feels like you are just serving me."
A thoughtful silence descended between us, the only sounds the soft rustle of the sheets and our mingled breaths. Levi's fingers stilled on my jawline, his gaze searching mine, a new intensity replacing the earlier playfulness.
"An interesting proposition, Raphael," he finally said, his voice lower, more contemplative. "A reversal of roles, of sorts. It is... a novel idea within our dynamic." He paused, considering the implications. "You wish to be the canvas, then?"
“Yeah… I mean we already have the toys, the bed… Why not now?”
"You're right, Raphael," he murmured, his gaze distant as if peering into uncharted territories within himself. "The physicality... the control, the eliciting of your intense reactions... that has always been a clear source of... satisfaction. But the more nuanced aspects, the abstract desires that fuel that drive... I confess, they have remained largely unexamined."
“So… You are basically a virgin now, aren’t you, Levi?” I teased, my voice thick with laughter and a genuine, playful disbelief.
A wry smile touched Levi's lips, a hint of his usual playful dominance returning. "A virgin in the abstract realms of my own desires, perhaps," he conceded, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "But fear not, my dear. Even a 'virgin' can be eager to learn... especially with such a willing and insightful guide." He reached out, his fingers trailing lightly across my collarbone. "Where do you suggest we begin this... voyage of self-discovery?"
“I don’t know, really,” I began, my voice a soft murmur. "But you have really sensitive ears and nipples. We've already established that." My hand reached out, my fingertips lightly brushing against his. "Maybe you might also enjoy feather touches, or warm things."
He stepped back slightly, his gaze sweeping over my body. "Feather touches... warmth..." he mused aloud, a thoughtful expression on his face. He picked up a soft feather from the bedside table, its delicate barbs brushing lightly against his own fingertips. "Very well, Raphael. Let us begin. Show me... guide me... towards these uncharted territories of my own desires." He held out the feather, a silent invitation. "Where do we start?"
"No, no." I corrected, the words a soft. "Without my input. You order, Levi. And I will obey..." My voice dropped to a low, seductive purr, my eyes still holding his. "...with a little defiance."
"Ah, I see," he murmured, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Then let us begin this... experiment in earnest. No guidance, no suggestions from you. Only your reactions to my... explorations. And your promise of obedience, however grudging." He paused, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Turn over."
I turned over slowly, presenting my back to Levi. A thrill of anticipation, mixed with a sliver of delicious uncertainty, coiled in my gut.
Then, I felt it – the lightest touch, a mere whisper of sensation against the nape of my neck. Something cool and smooth, gliding slowly downwards. It sent a shiver racing down my spine, raising goosebumps along my arms. My breath hitched, and a low moan escaped my lips before I could suppress it. Whatever Levi was using, it was eliciting an immediate and visceral response.
The cool sensation continued its languid descent, tracing the curve of my spine. It felt like polished stone, or perhaps cool metal, smooth and surprisingly weighty. It pressed gently into the small of my back, a subtle pressure that made my hips arch slightly against the mattress.
Without a word, the cool object was lifted, and I braced myself for its return. But instead, I felt something entirely different – the delicate brush of soft feathers against my skin. They danced across my shoulders, light as a butterfly's wing, yet sending surprisingly potent jolts of sensation through me. My breath grew shallow, and I could feel my nipples tightening in response, a familiar ache blooming in my chest. Levi was exploring, and every touch, every sensation, was a revelation, not just for him, but for me as well.
The feathers continued their teasing dance, drifting lower, tracing the curve of my waist, the delicate strokes igniting a fire in their wake. My hips began to rock subtly against the bed.
The feathery lightness was gone, replaced by a new sensation – warmth. A slow, deliberate drag of something warm and slightly slick across my buttocks. My breath hitched, and a low moan escaped my lips, the sound amplified in the quiet room. I could feel the tension coiling tighter within me, a desperate need for more, for something deeper.
Then, the warmth was gone, and a new texture replaced it – something rougher, yet still surprisingly gentle. It felt like the soft nap of leather, dragged slowly across the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. The leather traced its way upwards, closer to the juncture of my legs, and a desperate ache began to build within me. My hands clenched the sheets, the cotton bunching beneath my fingers.
It paused at the apex of my thighs. A desperate throb began to pulse between my legs, a raw, insistent ache that demanded release. My hips lifted further, a silent plea for deeper contact.
Then, the leather was lifted, and a new sensation bloomed – the cool, smooth weight from before, now pressed firmly against the cleft of my buttocks.
Levi leaned close, his warm breath ghosting across the sensitive skin of my lower back, and he kissed me. A soft, lingering press of his lips against my skin...
Levi lifted his head, the warmth of his breath still ghosting across my skin, and the cool weight shifted slightly. The kiss, the gentle touch, the contrasting sensations… it was all building to something, a crescendo of feeling that threatened to shatter the last vestiges of my control.
This was a sensory masterpiece, a carefully crafted symphony of arousal that was pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My body was singing with a raw, vulnerable longing, and I knew, with a certainty that thrilled and terrified me, that the crescendo was imminent. A shudder ran through my body, and a low, guttural moan escaped my lips, raw and unrestrained.
I felt his fingers, cool and gentle, slide beneath me. His touch was tentative at first, exploring my rigid flesh, and a shuddering breath escaped my lips.
The combination was devastating. The cool pressure was grounding, but now his direct, tender touch was too much, exquisitely so.
Levi's gentle exploration intensified, his fingers now stroking and teasing me. Each touch was deliberate, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my body.
My breath came in short, ragged gasps, and involuntary moans escaped my lips. With a final, exquisite stroke, the dam broke. A wave of intense pleasure washed over me, a shuddering release that wracked my entire body. My back arched, my muscles clenched, and a strangled cry tore from my throat. The intense sensations pulsed and throbbed, slowly receding, leaving me weak and trembling, my body slick with sweat.
Levi remained still for a long moment, his fingers continuing their gentle caress until the last tremors subsided. Finally, he withdrew his hand, and the cool pressure beneath me was lifted. I lay there, panting, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my orgasm.
The experiment, it seemed, had been a resounding success.
What... what was that? Just sensations... light touches, cold, warm... not even being inside me. What the hell just made me lose control like that? Shit...
It was the kiss... that small kiss on my back. He... never did something like that before. That... that felt different. Intimate. Vulnerable. And Gods... it broke me.
A whimpering, gasping puddle. From a single, soft press of his lips against my back. Just a kiss. Fuck. How utterly, irrevocably in love am I with this man? It was him. That unexpected tenderness, that fleeting glimpse behind the dominant mask... it had unlocked something so profound, so raw, that my body had surrendered completely.
I am so fucked.
Levi leaned in, his lips brushing against my back once more, a soft, lingering pressure that echoed the earlier kiss. His hand now traced the curve of my hip, a slow, deliberate exploration.
He shifted, his body moving closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him against my back. One hand slid around my waist, pulling me gently closer, while the other continued its languid exploration, his fingers now tracing the delicate curve of my side, just beneath my ribs.
Then, he did something unexpected. He nuzzled the back of my neck, his breath warm and soft against my skin, and whispered, his voice low and husky, "Tell me what feels good, Raphael."
My mind raced, trying to reconcile this unexpected tenderness with the dominant figure who had just had me whimpering from a single kiss. "My... my sides," I managed, my voice still shaky. "Light touches there..."
His fingers followed my direction, the light, feather-like strokes sending shivers of pleasure dancing across my skin. He continued to nuzzle my neck, his breath warm and intoxicating, the simple intimacy of the act sending a fresh wave of arousal washing over me. This was different. This was new. And it was utterly captivating.
“Like that?” he murmured against my ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my body.
“Yes,” I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.
His fingers then drifted lower, tracing the curve of my hipbone, and a new wave of anticipation washed over me. He lingered there for a moment, his touch sending a delicious ache blooming in my groin. Then, with agonizing slowness, his hand slipped lower, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
He continued his slow exploration, his fingers inching closer to the juncture of my thighs, each delicate stroke sending sparks of pure sensation through me. Each touch was a carefully crafted torment, a delicate dance between pleasure and anticipation. My breath hitched and shuddered, and a low moan escaped my lips, a sound that was both a plea and a surrender.
Then, his fingers finally reached their destination, gently closing around my shaft. A gasp escaped my lips, and a wave of pure sensation washed over me. He simply caressed, his touch light yet insistent. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through me, making my muscles clench and release in a desperate rhythm. A shuddering wave of pleasure washed over me, a release so intense it stole my breath. My body arched against him, my muscles clenching and spasming, and a strangled cry tore from my throat.
The aftershocks of my orgasm continued to ripple through me, leaving my limbs heavy and my skin flushed. Levi held me close, his arms wrapped around my waist, his warm breath ghosting against my neck.
He shifted slightly, his hand gently stroking my hip. "Are you alright, Raphael?" His voice was low, husky with lingering arousal, the dominant edge softened by a newfound tenderness.
I managed a weak nod. "Yeah," I murmured, my voice still shaky. The unexpected gentleness of his exploration, the intimacy of that kiss... it had unlocked a different kind of surrender within me.
Fuck... fuck... The realization hit me again, a wave of disbelief washing over the lingering haze of pleasure. Twice. Two earth-shattering orgasms. And all from... touches. Simple, deliberate touches. No deep thrusts, no grinding friction. Just his hands, his breath, that unexpected kiss... and I had come undone, twice.
How? How could such simple acts elicit such profound, shattering responses?
And that kiss... gods, that small, tender press of his lips against my back. It replayed in my mind, a key unlocking a floodgate of emotion and sensation. That single act had resonated deeper than any brutal act of dominance ever could.
Twice...
Levi shifted, propping himself up on an elbow, his gaze intent on my still-flushed face. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "It seems," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, "that there are pathways to your pleasure, to your surrender, that lie beyond the obvious."
His eyes searched mine, a flicker of genuine curiosity in their depths. "Twice, you found release without... direct stimulation. Tell me, Raphael," he continued, his thumb gently stroking my cheekbone, "what was it about those sensations, that particular combination, that resonated so deeply within you?"
"It wasn't the sensations..." I managed, my voice barely a whisper. Gods, how could I admit this? The embarrassment was a physical heat rising up my neck, staining my cheeks. Fuck. "It was... that kiss on my back." My gaze flickered away from Levi's, focusing on a nonexistent point on the ceiling. "It felt really... different. Yeah."
"Is that so?" Levi murmured, his voice softer now, a hint of intrigued understanding in his tone. He watched the blush creep up my neck, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Not the physicality, but the tenderness... fascinating."
"As for what I uncovered... It seems... I possess a capacity for gentleness that I rarely allow myself to explore. And," his eyes met mine again, a newfound intensity in their depths, "it appears to be... remarkably potent."
Yeah, it was fucking potent. God damn. I am 25 year old man. Who finishes from light touches, twice, back to back?
"If... if you found that tenderness... agreeable," I began, my voice still carrying a hint of lingering embarrassment but laced with a newfound curiosity, "then I have... something else in mind. Something you might... enjoy, Levi."
His dark eyebrows lifted, a silent question in their arch. Emboldened by this unexpected shift in our dynamic, I moved closer, reaching for his hand. My fingers intertwined with his.
Holding his hand, my thumb gently stroked the back of his. "Remember when you mentioned wanting to try absolute surrender?" I asked softly, my gaze meeting his, a newfound confidence blooming within me. "What if... what if you were the one surrendering?"
"And what would that entail, Raphael?" he asked, his voice low and carefully neutral.
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You, yielding completely to my touch, my pace, my desires. No control, no dominance. Just... allowing yourself to be cared for."
“I do find the idea intriguing. But my mind is a little twisted my dear. I would find that proposal another hint at my dominance. But, Raphael, you are smart. I think you would find a way.”
A slow smile spread across my face, a spark of challenge igniting within me. "Oh, I am quite certain I will, Levi," I purred, my grip tightening on his hand. "Your mind may be 'twisted,' but I find it... wonderfully complex."
"Alright, Levi," I said softly, releasing his hand but keeping my gaze locked on his. "No commands, no expectations. Just... allow me." I reached out slowly, my fingertips barely grazing the hair at his temples. I lingered there for a moment, letting him adjust to the simple touch.
Then, with excruciating slowness, I began to massage his scalp, my fingertips pressing gently, circling with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. I focused on the areas I knew held tension – the base of his skull, the curve behind his ears. I watched his face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort or resistance. His eyes were closed now, his expression unreadable.
I continued the gentle massage, my touch feather-light yet firm, exploring the contours of his head. After a few moments, I moved lower, my fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, the stubble there a slight rasp against my skin. I lingered there, my thumb gently stroking his cheekbone, mirroring the gesture he had offered me earlier.
My hands continued their slow exploration, drifting down his neck, my thumbs pressing gently into the tense muscles there. I could feel a subtle shift in his posture, a slight relaxation as the tension began to ease. I continued the massage moving down his shoulders, kneading the knots I often felt beneath my fingers.
After a while, I moved to his arms, stroking them with long, languid movements, paying attention to the feel of his muscles beneath my palms. I turned his hands over, tracing the lines on his palms with the same gentle curiosity I had used on my own.
I moved closer, my hands now tracing the strong lines of his chest, the coolness of his skin radiating beneath my touch.
Then, I shifted my focus, my fingers drifting lower, towards his nipples. I hesitated for a moment, remembering the intensity of his reaction. This was a sensitive area, a potential minefield of pleasure and pain. I decided on a slow, deliberate approach, my fingertips barely grazing the skin around his nipples, circling with a feather-light touch. I watched his face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, any flinch or tightening of his muscles. But his expression remained serene, his breathing even and controlled.
My fingertips continued their incredibly light exploration around his nipples, the delicate friction against his skin sending subtle tremors through his chest. I watched his face intently, and this time, I saw it – a barely perceptible tightening of the muscles around his mouth, a slight deepening of his breath. A reaction.
Emboldened by this small sign, I allowed my touch to become infinitesimally more direct, the very tips of my fingers now brushing across the sensitive areola. His breath hitched audibly this time, and a low, involuntary sound rumbled in his throat. His eyelids fluttered slightly, but he still didn't open them, maintaining his silent surrender.
I continued the teasing caress, my fingers now tracing small circles directly over his nipples, the soft abrasion against the ultrasensitive nerve endings clearly eliciting a powerful response. His chest rose and fell more rapidly, and a flush began to creep up his neck and a small arch of his back.
My touch grew slightly more insistent, the pads of my fingers now gently kneading his nipples, the subtle friction causing them to tighten and protrude beneath my touch. A low groan escaped Levi's lips, a sound that vibrated against my own fingertips. His hands, which had been resting passively at his sides, now clenched into fists against the sheets.
I continued the slow, deliberate stimulation, varying the pressure and rhythm, exploring the exquisite sensitivity of the area. I used the back of my fingers to lightly stroke the surrounding skin, creating a tantalizing contrast in sensation. His breathing became more ragged, and his head began to turn restlessly against the pillow.
My fingers continued their focused exploration, the gentle kneading of his nipples now interspersed with light flicks and teasing pinches. Each variation in touch elicited a distinct response from Levi – a sharp intake of breath, a low growl, a subtle shift in his hips against the mattress.
I leaned closer, my breath warm against his ear. "Does that feel good, Levi?" I whispered, breaking the heavy silence.
A moment passed before he finally responded, his voice thick with suppressed sensation. "Yes," he managed.
I used my thumb and forefinger to gently tug on his nipples, the slight pull eliciting a sharp intake of breath. His body tensed beneath my hands.
With his verbal confirmation, I shifted my focus, leaning closer to his ear. Remembering his sensitivity there, I began with the lightest of touches, my breath ghosting across the delicate shell. A visible shiver ran through his body.
Leaning closer still, I gently blew a soft puff of air into his ear canal. The reaction was immediate – his body tensed, and a sharp intake of breath hissed through his teeth. I continued my exploration, my lips now hovering just above his ear, my warm breath a constant tease.
I pressed a soft kiss just behind his earlobe. A tremor ran through his body, and his grip on the sheets tightened. I could feel the accelerated rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest as I leaned closer.
My tongue flicked out, tracing the delicate curve of his ear, a slow, deliberate caress.
I varied my ministrations, sometimes gently sucking on his earlobe, sometimes whispering soft, nonsensical words. I gently nibbled on his earlobe, the soft pressure and slight friction eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Then, I traced the inner contours of his ear with the tip of my tongue, the moist warmth sending shivers through his body.
His hands, still clenched into fists, now began to tremble slightly. His head moved restlessly against the pillow, seeking more of the intense sensations I was creating. Soft moans escaped his lips, no longer suppressed, but raw and involuntary. The complete abandon in his surrender was incredible...
I whispered softly against his ear, my breath warm and moist, "Do you like that, Levi?"
A choked sound escaped his lips, a raw plea that vibrated against my own. "Raphael... I can not... control myself. Please..." His words, though directed at me, held a desperate edge. And in that moment, I felt it too – a subtle but distinct shift in the energy between us. Something within him had finally snapped.
"I... may not be able to restrain... myself..." Levi rasped, another involuntary moan escaping his lips, his body tensing beneath my touch. His words were fragmented, a desperate plea "...you need..."
But I was caught in the intoxicating thrill of watching his control unravel. His reactions, so raw and unfiltered, were a captivating spectacle. A small, selfish part of me reveled in this moment.
"But you always tell me to be patient, Levi," I purred, a playful edge entering my voice, "and you certainly don't hesitate to punish me when I'm not, do you?"
The irony of the situation was delicious.
Without waiting for a response, I nipped gently at his earlobe, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Another involuntary moan escaped his lips, a raw sound that vibrated against my own.
"It is not... about... dominance..." Levi ground out, his muscles tightening beneath my touch, a visible struggle against the tide of sensation washing over him. "...I am talking about... actual... control..." His words were punctuated by shallow breaths. He was fighting, I could feel it in the rigidness of his jaw, the clenching of his fists.
Was that a warning? A desperate plea signaling he was teetering on the precipice of his control, about to shatter the delicate trance of submission we had created? Or was it something else entirely, a primal urge to reclaim his dominant role, to snap back to the familiar dynamic? His mind, usually so sharp and calculating, was a turbulent enigma in this moment.
Intrigued by the tension coiling within Levi, I continued my exploration, my touch now drifting lower. I traced the line of his collarbone, the smooth skin taut beneath my fingertips, before moving down his chest, my palms gliding over his still-rapidly beating heart.
I lingered there for a moment, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath my hand. Then, with deliberate slowness, I moved downwards, my fingers trailing across his abdomen, the muscles there tight and corded.
I shifted my position, deliberately cradling my hips right against his burgeoning erection. The hard ridge pressed insistently against my lower abdomen, a potent reminder of his undeniable arousal. It wasn't a gentle pressure; it was a firm, almost aggressive thrust against my waist. The heat radiating from his body mingled with my own, creating a charged friction that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly.
"Raphael... don't..." Levi's voice was a strained rasp, the words laced with a tension that mirrored the rigidness of his body beneath mine. Was that a genuine plea for me to cease this tantalizing dance? Or was it yet another veiled warning, a final stand against the tide of sensation threatening to overwhelm his control?
I positioned myself to settle down onto his rigid erection, a deliberate act of taking control. As I lifted my gaze to meet his, the air in the room seemed to crackle with a sudden, violent energy. The earlier tension, the internal struggle, had vanished, replaced by something stark and terrifying. His eyes, moments before clouded with arousal, were now glacial pools of cold fury.
He had completely snapped.
"Why did you not heed any of my warnings, Raphael?" Levi's voice was a low, guttural snarl.
His hands clamped onto my hips with brutal force, his fingers digging into my flesh as he surged upwards, thrusting himself fully and deeply inside me in one violent motion. The sudden invasion stole my breath, a sharp gasp escaping my lips.
Thank gods for those slippery egg things from before.
They had created a slickness that, while doing little to ease the forceful entry, at least prevented the tearing pain that would have otherwise accompanied this.
His pace was merciless, each deep thrust stealing the air from my lungs, a brutal rhythm that left me gasping and breathless. A beast unleashed, indeed. And a dangerous thrill coursed through me, a perverse satisfaction in knowing that I had been the catalyst, the one who had finally pushed him past his breaking point. Eight months... eight long months of subtle provocations, of pushing boundaries, of trying to glimpse this unrestrained fury. And now, here it was, in all its potent glory.
But even in the face of this unleashed intensity, my body, already weary from the lash's brutal caress, was beginning to protest. Each forceful thrust, while undeniably arousing in its raw power, was also a reminder of my physical limits. My breath hitched from the growing ache in my muscles. And Levi... Gods, the man possessed an almost inhuman stamina, his tempo showing no signs of abating, threatening to push me beyond my breaking point in a completely different way.
Each forceful thrust driving deeper, faster, ripping ragged moans from my throat that echoed through the room, likely the entire house. My body was a taut string vibrating with the brutal rhythm he dictated. He showed no signs of slowing, no indication that he was anywhere near the precipice of his own release.
Midst the storm, I saw a subtle shift in his eyes. The cold fury that had gripped him began to recede, the glacial intensity melting away. But what replaced it was unsettling. His gaze became unfocused, distant, as if he were no longer truly seeing me. It was a vacant look.
A single word escaped his lips, barely a whisper, almost lost in the intensity of the moment. "Lucent."
Lucent.
A chill snaked down my spine. His safe word. But his tone... it wasn't a command, not in the way he usually used it. It was soft, almost a sigh, uttered with that distant, unfocused gaze. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Without hesitation, I pushed myself up, the sudden movement jarring my already tender muscles. Ignoring the protests of my body, I scrambled away from him, throwing myself onto the far side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as the small space allowed. I did as he had, in his own detached way, asked. I stopped. Immediately.
Levi remained on the bed, his body still radiating a residual heat from the recent intensity, but his eyes were vacant, unfocused on anything in the room.
Panic clawed at my throat. I had to break through this. He was lost, adrift. How did he pull me back? The sharp, sudden pain… yes. Just like what he did to me.
My hands shot out, grabbing his nipples with a brutal grip. Ignoring the instinctive tremor of hesitation, I twisted them as hard as I could, the sensation ripping a strangled cry from my own throat in sympathetic pain.
His eyes snapped into focus, the vacant detachment abruptly replaced by a flicker of confusion, then a dawning horror as his gaze locked onto mine.
"Raphael... gods, I am so sorry," he gasped, his voice thick with distress. "For my... animalistic behavior... I..." He let out a deep, shuddering breath, as if expelling the last vestiges of that terrifying trance.
"Why did you not listen to me, Raphael?" Levi's voice was ragged with self-reproach, his gaze fixed on his trembling hands as if they belonged to a stranger. "I warned you... I told you I was losing control... Gods, I can't believe what I did." He shook his head slowly, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.
"Levi, please, calm down," I urged, my voice softer now, trying to soothe the raw distress etched on his face. "You didn't... you didn't do anything irreparable. This... this was partly my fault too."
"No," he insisted, his voice a low, vehement whisper, shaking his head again. "That was unacceptable behavior, Raphael. Utterly unacceptable. Gods..."
"I could have... I could have really hurt you," Levi repeated, his gaze still fixated on the trembling of his own hand as if it were a foreign entity capable of inflicting unimaginable harm. "I... I don't know what came over me."
"Levi," I said firmly, reaching out to take his trembling hands in mine. His grip was surprisingly weak. "Please. Just breathe with me for a moment. In... and out..." I demonstrated, taking a slow, deliberate breath. "And look at me. You stopped, Levi. You recognized something was wrong, and you stopped. And no, you did not do any irreversible damage. Okay? I am not blaming you for this."
He squeezed my hands tightly. "No, Raphael," he insisted. "I am disgusted by my own actions. I let that... that feeling consume me." He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to shut out the memory.
As Levi repeated his self-reproaching mantra, a wave of understanding washed over me, illuminating the patterns of our past.
I remembered times when his immense strength had been subtly displayed, always contained, never unleashed. The clearest memory was carrying Conqueror. Finn and I had been groaning under the weight, our muscles screaming in protest, while Levi had simply breathed a little heavier, bearing the brunt of the load with seemingly effortless ease. That controlled power, always present but never dominant, was the very essence of him. And I had just witnessed what happened when that control finally shattered.
"Levi," I said, my voice firm but gentle, reaching out to cup his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Just stop this. Look at me. I'm alright. A little tender, maybe, and I definitely need some of that soothing ointment for my backside, but I'm okay. And let's be honest here, I pushed you, Levi. I kept pushing even when you gave me warnings. You're right, you lost control, but I instigated it. And you used your safe word. I saw it in your eyes – the initial anger, then that strange, hazy unfocusing, like you weren't even seeing me. I think... I think that trance, that blankness in your eyes, was your control trying to reassert itself, but in a way you weren't consciously directing. It was weird, terrifying even, to witness it happening in real life. Your eyes just... went blank. But you still signaled for me to stop, even in that state."
"Even in that state... I still said the word?" Levi murmured, his brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze drifting inward as he tried to recall the experience.
"Yeah, you did," I confirmed gently, squeezing his hands. "It was... weird to witness. You dissociated. It was like your mind wasn't fully here. It's happened before, remember? When you got really drunk that one time?"
The same pattern of escalating agitation followed by a strange detachment.
"Levi," I said, a newfound understanding dawning on me. "I think... I think your brain kind of rebooted or something. When that happened last time you also went through cycles of anger and fury, and then that haziness, that blankness. Yeah... That dissociation... it wasn't a complete loss of control, but your control manifesting in a different, almost involuntary way."
"So the 'Lucent'... that was still me, trying to pull myself back?" Levi asked, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I assume so, yeah," I replied gently. "It was similar to the last time you were really drunk. It seemed like your mind's way of trying to find an anchor."
A wave of disgust washed over Levi's face. "That is even more... pathetic to think. To lose control over... what? An erection. Gods, I cannot believe myself." He shook his head.
"You are holding yourself to such a high standard, Levi," I said softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. His skin was still flushed. "How many times have I basically pounced on you, driven by the heat of the moment? It happens, Levi. We're both... passionate individuals. It doesn't diminish your control in general. This was an extreme circumstance, and even then, your subconscious still tried to pull you back." I gently stroked his jawline, trying to convey understanding and reassurance. "Don't let this one instance overshadow all the times you have maintained that incredible control, even when I was being... less than patient."
"Raphael... Please, allow me to apologize once again. That was an intolerable action on my part. But... alright. I will endeavor to be more mindful, more careful in the future. We will, as you said, discuss this later, when we both have had time to process." He let out a deep, steadying breath.
"It's okay, Levi," I replied softly, placing my hand gently on his still-hard erection, the heat radiating through my palm. "I'm sorry too. Let me apologize as well. I was pushing you, and I didn't fully respect your boundaries."
"Apology accepted and returned," Levi echoed, a small, genuine smile finally gracing his lips. His hand tightened briefly over mine on his still-firm erection. "And yes, please. We did begin this... endeavor hours ago. It is becoming rather... persistently distracting."
I chuckled softly, shifting slightly. "The issue Levi, is your frankly insane stamina. I mean, you basically exist on a diet of pure sugar. What unholy alchemy is at play here that fuels this relentless energy?" I gestured vaguely towards his lower half, a playful smirk on my face.
Levi simply shrugged, a lazy, self-satisfied smile spreading across his face. He offered no explanation for his seemingly inexhaustible energy, clearly enjoying the mystery and perhaps a little bit of my mild exasperation. The smile, however, was a welcome sign.
We had just navigated a turbulent storm. Now, wanting to bridge that gap and rekindle the earlier intimacy, I slowly crawled over to where his impressive erection still stood proud. With deliberate gentleness, I leaned in, ready to place a soft kiss on its tip, but Levi stopped me.
"We have already blurred the lines between pain and pleasure; let us not blur the lines of hygiene as well."
Gods.
This man and his safe sex practices.
Instead of my mouth, I used my hands. With a gentle, deliberate touch, I began to stroke him, my fingers moving with a slow, confident rhythm. He was still hard, still wanting, and the tenderness of my touch seemed to be a balm to the earlier intensity. He tangled his fingers in my hair, his grip firm, guiding the rhythm of my hands. I continued my slow, deliberate ministrations, savoring the way his body reacted – the subtle tremors, the quickening of his breath, the involuntary arch of his back.
My other hand moved higher, tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling the tautness of his muscles. I teased the skin there with my fingertips, occasionally flicking my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were half-closed, focused entirely on the sensations I was creating.
As I continued to pleasure him, I could feel the growing intensity in his body, the subtle shifts that signaled he was nearing the edge. His breathing became more ragged, his grip on my hair tightened, and a low moan escaped his lips, his safe word thankfully absent.
His hips bucked, a series of sharp, involuntary thrusts against my palms. Then, with a final, shuddering cry, he went still. His body remained tense for a long moment, then slowly, gradually, began to relax. His grip on my shoulders loosened, his fingers trailing softly down my arms.
He opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused for a moment before slowly settling on mine. They were still glazed with the aftermath of his release, a sated pleasure swirling within their depths. A small, shaky smile touched his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the raw, unrestrained pleasure he had just experienced. The storm within him had finally broken, leaving behind a sense of exhausted satisfaction.
I slowly drew back, my palms slick and glistening with the evidence of his release. Reaching over to the bedside table, he retrieved a tissue and gently offered it to me.
"Wanna go for more, Levi?" I asked, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of my lips, already feeling the familiar stirrings of desire within me once again.
Levi chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from my face. "Raphael, you truly possess a remarkable resilience for pulling yourself together after such... enthusiastic exertion. But let me pose a question in return. The first exhilarating ride took quite some time to reach its peak. Now, considering our current... somewhat depleted states, do you have even the faintest notion of how much longer the second ascent might take?" His eyes held a teasing glint.
"Long enough to make it even more exquisite," I purred, leaning in to trail a kiss along his jawline. "Besides, isn't the anticipation half the fun, Levi?" I nipped gently at his earlobe, feeling the familiar shiver run through him. "And who knows? Maybe this time, we'll find some delightful shortcuts."
"Surely, my dear."
And so we began anew, our earlier intensity tempered by a languid exploration, a dance of touch and sensation that stretched through the long hours of the night. We rediscovered familiar territories and charted new, uncharted waters of pleasure. I found myself reaching for him, teasing and tantalizing, while he responded with a controlled passion, his earlier loss of restraint now replaced by a deliberate exploration of my body.
The night deepened, and so did our exploration of dominance and submission. The lines blurred and shifted, sometimes I yielded to his subtle commands, reveling in the exquisite surrender, and other times I took the lead, reveling in the power of his intense reactions. Yet, through it all, Levi remained on the precipice, his control a taut wire stretched almost to its breaking point. He continued his relentless pace, his stamina seemingly inexhaustible, driving me to the edge again and again while holding himself back.
It wasn't until the first rays of dawn began to paint the sky that the dam finally broke. A primal cry tore from his throat, his body arching and shuddering as wave after wave of release finally claimed him. The sheer length of his control only amplified the intensity of his climax, leaving him panting and gloriously spent.
…
"You know, seeing you finally let go like that... after holding back for so long... it was incredibly intense, Levi. Almost as intense as the first time you... lost control." I reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Despite the... initial turbulence, it brought us closer, didn't it? A deeper understanding of our desires, our limits... and perhaps, a greater trust." He reached out and gently traced the line of my jaw, his touch surprisingly tender after the intensity of the night. "Thank you, Raphael. For... everything."
"Yeah..." I murmured, leaning into his touch, a comfortable weariness settling over me. "You know exactly how to thank me. With a mountain of painkillers and that soothing ointment, applied with excruciating care. And maybe a thorough scrubbing in the shower? It was insane, Levi. You barely broke a sweat while I felt like I ran a marathon... several times."
"You can close your eyes now, Raphael. Let go. I will take care of the aftermath. Rest."
I drifted off, enveloped in a comforting weariness, the last thing I registered was the gentle touch of Levi's hand on my forehead.
The next sensation was one of being weightless, drifting in a secure embrace. A faint scent of Levi surrounded me, and the steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby. I was being carried, cradled against his chest. Through the haze of sleep, I vaguely registered the shift in surroundings, the softer mattress beneath me, the familiar scent of my own room.
Levi carefully laid me down on my bed. I could feel the gentle tug as he adjusted the covers around me, tucking me in. A soft kiss brushed my forehead.