Owain watches Poe with just-- open vulnerability, masked by his need to rebel and his need to connect. He would beg, if Poe asked. Beg and cry and scream just to feel him. When he doesn't have to, when Poe shows him mercy, he kisses him again, softer. Somewhere between grateful and blatantly affectionate.
He rushes things, at first. Pins himself down on the first few inches of Poe's cock all at once, taking more than he should and biting his lip when it stings. He's impatient, he's young, he wants to handle this better - wants to get taken care of like he was in his dream. He hisses and he adjusts, leaning his weight into Poe's hands as he slowly, slowly lets himself sink, forcing himself to relax and open up to Poe in the way he's being taught.
It takes a while, but Owain is fucking determined to see this through, and he sinks lower and lower until Poe's balls are right against his ass and every mind-shattering inch of him is stretching him apart. He still has that instinct to just tighten, to wring each nerve in Poe's cock, but the way he looks at him, the way he whispers - it's enough to keep Owain relaxed, enough to keep him in check.
"I'm gonna..."
He's sweating, looking almost dazed when he meets Poe's eyes, half-lidded and darkened by lust. He takes a long breath, chest rising, abs tightening.
He talks him though it, or at least tries to - his whispers far less like actually sentences than they are murmurs of encouragement or single words of warning ("Easy--"). He resists the urge to push up into Owain's body, keeping his own hips still, even though the heat and the pressure are intense. But whatever this started as - Owain grinding against him with an angry determination - it has changed into something else. Something that keeps feeding the butterflies in his chest and sending them into a frenzy.
He's almost nervous in a weird sort of way, which surprises him. Maybe it's because Owain keeps wincing, but he doesn't think so. It's something else. He can't put his finger on it.
When Owain bottoms out, Poe groans, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows of Owain's hips.
There's a moment before he actually moves where Owain just looks at Poe. Takes in his eyes, his lips. He drapes his arms over Poe's shoulders and loosely locks them against his neck, keeping Poe looking up at him so he can watch every expression Owain makes, feel every breath.
He starts to rise, and he can feel himself stretching and making way for Poe. He tries to keep eye contact the whole time, but once he starts hitting a rhythm he just-- clouds over, focused on the feeling of tight pressure filling him from the inside. His dick twitches and leaks fresh lines of precum every time the flared ridge of Poe's head brushes hard over that spot that just keeps fucking ruining him, and he's not moaning, not yet, he's going too achingly, achingly slow for that, but his lips part in voiceless need.
He fucks himself down on Poe about half a dozen times before he has to stop, skin red and flushed from exhaustion, knees shaking. He almost acts like he's waking up when his eyes drift back into focus, and he grins, dopey and kind of stupid, laughing easily from within his chest. Completely relaxed. No more anger.
"Fffffuck." He arches his neck down, finds Poe's ear, breathes against it. Bites the shell of it, right at the top, laughing again.
It's almost tortuously slow - ever fibre of Poe's being fighting the urge to shallowing thrust up into Owain's body. His grip on the man's hip tightens, fingers driving into flesh, but that's the only outward sign of his restraint. His lips are parted, his breath slow and low - a heavy pant each time Owain lowers himself onto him and Poe's cock pulses with frustrated need.
Owain's grin draws an immediate one in reply from Poe, his eyes crinkling with warm. He pushes himself up a little more upright, but still can't quite meet Owain's lips, so he presses a few clumsy, warm kisses to his chest.
"... You're going to... drive me completely insane," Poe murmured, almost a complaint, if there wasn't a deep well of fondness to the words.
"Yeah, well." He's too fogged out by all this to string two thoughts together, let alone something hot enough to drive Poe as wild as he wants him to, so he just slowly, slowly tries to move again, whispering good just under his breath, another grin slapped stupidly to his face.
Again, he rides Poe's cock for about four long, perfect seconds, and then he's back down, resting entirely on Poe's waist and breathing hard through his mouth. He's panting, labored and unsteady, and he raises both of his arms back from Poe,resting his hands on top of his own head and laughing out again. Fuck.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to-- just--"
He scratches through his hair and then rests his hands on Poe's shoulders, one hand drifting down enough to stroke slow, gentle motions against his collarbone. He'd been talking a big game, up until a moment ago, but this is Poe. This is what Poe does. Fucking ruins him, resets him to happy instead of subservient like Kes.
"Can you-- I want-- I want you to fuck me," he finally spits out. "I want-- you-- to fuck me. Please."
"I think... I might be able to do that," Poe replied, the grin turning a little smug, all thoughts from earlier in the evening having completely left him. This had nothing to do with father, with pledges or masters, just - being with Owain. Being with a man who he - well, to put it blunty, if not eloquently - really fucking liked. He chuckled, low and rough, as he pressed another kiss to Owain's chest.
He considered telling him to move, but- decided against it. Instead, he moved the hand on Owain's hip to the small of his back - spreading warm fingers over his spine - and used his other hand to brace hard against the bed below. Keeping his hand firm on Owain's back, pressing him down against him, he rolled his own hips up, thrusting firmly deep into the man straddling him with a soft grunt.
Fuck, yeah, that was just fine. At least for a few thrusts. Each was slow and a little too spaced out, withdrawing only half way before thrusting deep again, and Poe was working his bottom lip between his own teeth, gazing up at him.
"You tell me exactly how you want it, and I'll give it to you," he whispered, thrusting up to make a point. "Any way you want it--"
He falls apart, almost immediately. Hyper sensitive, wrecked by every stretch and every nerve, every fucking inch that fills his hole. He knows what he wants, knows he wants to either pound his ass down against Poe until the man's back is arching off the bed and he's all but drowning in sweat as he cums. Knows he wants it the other way around, too - just like in his dream. Fucked into a writhing mess of limbs and cum as Poe calls him a good boy and takes him in every possible way.
But this is already too much, and he doesn't think he could handle that, not yet. He stays uncomfortably still as Poe fucks him, just-- adjusting-- until he can put a boundary between what he's feeling and what he wants. He shuts his eyes, tries to will down everything he's feeling to something more manageable, then carefully starts rocking his hips back into each thrust. It's slow, miniscule, but it's an attempt and that alone is a huge god damn sign of his agency in this.
When Poe thrusts up to make that point, he buckles down, already feeling his load boiling at his base.
"Just--" He takes a breath, looks down at Poe, open and vulnerable and trusting and ready. "Just-- if you make me cum-- don't stop? Keep going-- until I-- again. Okay?"
"Keep going, huh?" He arched an eyebrow, amused, but it was a request that he was all too happy to promise to grant. It might be hard in this position, exactly, but if he could get Owain to cum like this, then flip him down onto the bed--
He started to roll his hips with a far less staggered rythym - each stroke leading into the next with a smooth thrust, deep, a little harder and a little sharper with each stroke. He could feel the strain in his arm where it braced the bed - the muscles clearly delineating, sharp under his skin, the veins running down to his wrist clear and taut. It took more focus than another position might have done, but that was just find by him. He didn't want to lose himself in this - not yet. Now that Owain had mentioned it, all he wanted was to make the man come while riding him, and only then give in.
So he kept a careful eye on Owain's face, panting as he fucked up into him, the pace getting a little faster and a little harder with every thrust despite himself.
It's building faster and faster already, Owain's mouth lolling open as he just-- experiences. He's making noises again, distant scratchy moans that force themselves out of him and make his chest ache, and he lets it happen. He's pretty sure he says Poe's name, somewhere in there, but it doesn't come out clearly, not with how hard it is to concentrate on anything but what he's feeling.
He doesn't notice he's cumming at first. His eyelids flutter shut rather than squeeze tight as they always do when he unloads. That boiling, aching buildup in his balls doesn't quiet leave him, doesn't quite give way to an explosion of wracked fire and heavy panting - but he can feel it, he can feel the jets of cum leaving him, he can feel waves of static bult through his legs and he looks down as he watches himself shoot, handsfree, over Poe's stomach and chest. It doesn't feel like he's hit his climax, not really, even though he's steadily softening and cooling down, but if he was barely able to contain himself before--
His refractory period, however fucking short, overwhelms him with sensitivity. He grunts and bucks hard against Poe's cock, coming alive, arching back and breathing hard, muscles shifting under skin as he tightens, clenches hard, squeezes Poe's cock for everything it's worth. He's moaning and writhing and pinning Poe down but he wants-- he wants--
"Fucking-- fuck me-- fuck me, fuck me," He's barely breathing, cock already back to full mast, jutting through the air and desperate for contact. "Fucking-- hard? Hard, hard, come on--"
Any restraint Poe had left in himself broke completely when Owain started to demand it harder. He snapped his hips up almost violently hard, a few times, and then couldn't take this angle anymore. He pulled a knee up next to Owain, before in one very sudden movement he was pulling the man's knees out from under him and flipping him onto the bed. He'd slipped out, of course, but he didn't waste time as he shuffled in between Owain's legs, looking down at the beautiful fucking vision lying there on his back, meeting his eyes.
He pulled Owain's hips up roughly toward him, encouraging him to put a leg up over his shoulder as he grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up once more.
He pushed into Owain like a hot knife through butter, taking him balls deep in one, smooth thrust. He gave him maybe half a second to adjust before he was drawing out and the snapping his hips forward again, punishingly hard. He had a stupid smug half smile on his lips as he gazed down at Owain, fully planning on giving him exactly what he asked for.
"Oh, I'll fuck you," he promised huskily as he began to thrust, all of his weight behind every thrust deep into Owain's body, not sparing a damn care in the world for how hard he took him. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll see stars and yet not be able to remember how to scream--"
There's a brief, brief flare of something at the back of Owain's mind when Poe throws him down onto the bed. He's wanted this for a fucking-- achingly long time-- and--
It hits him, with so much fucking clarity, how much he still just wants this on his own terms. None of this is about being a Pledge, or about fighting his role as a Pledge, or-- anything. He just wants Poe to fucking ruin him.
When he thuds back against the bed he moans, and he can feel it vibrate in his lungs with how loud it is. He reaches one hand back to grip the back frame of the bed and he holds on tight as Poe fucks him, each piercing thrust making him gasp. He doesn't have time to adjust after he pulls out for the first time, so when Poe fucks him he curves his spine off the bed and screams loud enough that he's pretty sure someone's gonna come knock on the door to make sure he's okay.
But he still wants control, even like this. Even as he listens to Poe's promises, half-lidded and needy, cock jerking and flexing hard, squeezing so, so tight around Poe, he still wants control. Equal control.
So it takes a minute for the desperation to pass, for the pure fucking lust to get wiped off his face, but when it does, he's smiling, hazy and well-fucked and happy. He reaches his hand out to Poe, drawing his nails back over the mark he left there, raking his fingers through the edge of his own cum. He acts like he's soothing Poe, suddenly, whispering shhh as if Poe needs to be fucking eased into this, eased into it as Owain was, as if he's the one who just screamed, and through all of this, he still finds it in him to laugh. Low. Challenging. Tightly, tightly wound, like it could snap into a wave of screams and begging at any moment.
"Yeah," he whispers, bringing his hand down to his own cock. He strokes it once, runs his head over the too-sensitive head and bucks back against Poe, hard, hard. "Nngh-- yeah. You're a good boy, Dameron. Fuck me so hard I'll be feeling it for a god damn month."
No one knocks on the door. Maybe they are just lucky and the room closest to them is empty. Or maybe everyone instinctively knows that if Poe makes Owain scream, he's well within his rights to do so. Whether out of pleasure or pain. The outside, however, is the last thing on Poe's mind right now. Though there really isn't a hell of a lot on his mind at all, other than the vice grip of Owain's body around his cock, his husky laugh, the way his nails rake over Poe's skin.
He'd felt mostly in control of himself, even when his restraint had snapped. Still felt like he was making decisions for his body, not the other way around.
But then Owain called him a good boy.
He flushed, darkly, and instantly - hadn't even known he could, with so much blood in his cock, but he did - his skin suddenly flamingly hot - his hips bucking hard to meet Owain's hips. He began to drive into him with a reckless abandon, each punishing thrust causing his balls to smack against Owain's ass with a dull slapping sound, pinning him hard into the sheets and then pulling almost the entire length out before slamming it back in again. It was very clear he was following orders.
He had absolutely no control at all, despite the position, and he had lost any ability to tell what his mouth was doing - cursing and grunting with every thrust. His impending orgasm came on extremely suddenly, his bucking hips turning a little more frantic, but he wasn't done--
"Hurt me--" he blurted out, far less of a promise and far far more of a plea. This was begging. "Hurt me, Owain, or I'm going to come right n-- fucking-- hurt me--"
Again, he screams when Poe bucks into him. There's a second before he does it, a second before he's snapping his neck back until his tendons are straining visibly against his skin as he cries out, where he fucking notices. He sees the flush in Poe's skin, sees the way he reacts to being called a good boy, and he's excited. A flutter of joy in his stomach that mixes with an aching, fucking terrible arousal, his dick grinding hard against Poe's stomach as he finds some semblance of composure and looks up at him from below.
He brings his fingertips to Poe's back, eyes all but rolling into the back of his head with each slap against his ass. He scratches up Poe's spine with one hand, finds his master's hair, holds tight in black curls and pulls him closer with an almost angry sounding ffffffffuck hissed through his teeth.
He pants, right up against Poe's ear, as he tries to find his voice.
"Do you really think... that'll stop you?" His voice is a whisper, and it's fucking drowning in barely contained restraint. It's wavering, tremoring, but his intentions are hard and solid, and he rakes his nails on his free hand down Poe's back, tearing at skin. "I... I c-- I could bruise you. Choke you. Make you bleed-- make you cry-- and... and all I'd have to do is tell you what a good boy you are-- tell you how much I fucking need this, need you, need you to fuck me, how much you're fucking helping me, how much you mean to me, how fucking-- insanely-- insanely, perfect your cock is-- and you'll be filling my ass with cum."
He curls his fingernails in, digging hard, as much for grip and stability as an intent to hurt. He snaps his neck back again, twisting his hips in weak miniscule fractions to get more friction against his cock, clenching his ass as tight as he can to keep Poe inside of him longer.
"You're-- you're a good boy, Captain Dameron," he says, rolling the words over his tongue, tasting the complete fucking breakdown of power, stripping the word Captain of any its authority. "So fucking good. Behaving for me. Being a good, good boy. Good boys deserve a reward, Captain. And I-- I wanna make you come."
The pain was supposed to be a distraction - something hard and sharp to keep him off the edge. And it worked. Sort of. It broke his concentration enough that he didn't immediately come, but it felt - well - really fucking good, especially in conjunction with what he was already doing.
A line of sweat was tracing from the base of his skull, trailing down his spine as he fucked into Owain, grunting with the effort, the sweat sliding into torn flesh and making it sting even more sharply than the cuts itself had, and his head was absolutely full of visions of Owain's hands on his throat, bruising his flesh--
He hissed as Owain's nails bit in again, and instead of keeping him from the edge, this time it pushed him right onto it, his thrusts staggering as he tried not to come right that second, Owain's muscles tightening even harder around him.
And then he lost it.
It was the words, more than anything else. The words and the sting of his sweat in the fresh marks on his back and intense pressure of Owain around his cock and the man's stupid whispered voice and that fucking grin and all of it, very suddenly, was too much. He roared, thrusting hard and deep and pinning Owain there - surging forward to take a crashing, clumsy kiss, as his climax hit with the force of a tsunami. He came harder than he could remember ever doing - wave after wave crashing through him as he unloaded deep inside of Owain, the cum coating his cock and sliding out, trailing down his balls. His muscles were all taut as a bow string - the effort making them shake and tremble, but he held himself tight and deep for as long as he could hold out.
Part of it is just because his body fucking forgets how to work, every part of him focused on each shot of cum blasting into him, each thick and heavy pulse of Poe's cock pressing right up against him and overloading his senses. Part of it is the weight of Poe, crushing his ribs, making him ache and feel trapped in a way he fucking loves, in a way that has his toes curling and his legs squirming as he locks one knee behind Poe's waist to keep him down, keep him there. He doesn't cum, but he's still so fucking hard, his cock leaving a bridge of precum from his tip to Poe's stomach.
He tries, just once, to keep up the teasing. To whisper good boy, to smooth this over, to hush gently into Poe's ear. But he breaks, and he writhes, and he does everything he can to sink lower on Poe's cock, screaming his name at the top of his lungs until he bites down hard into the line of muscle linking his neck to his shoulder. He pierces the skin, drawing fresh dots of blood, the taste of iron blooming on his tongue. He's almost crying as he moans into the wound, digging further scratches into Poe's back, leaving marks of red and pink.
When Poe's done he's fucking exhausted, riddled with pain, and he lets himself just fucking drop. Feeling the rush of cum drain out of him past Poe, sticky and warm and fucking perfect, cock twitching and begging for release between the both of them.
Poe shudders and slumps the rest of his weight against Owain - the only thing he's capable of doing is breathing. Everything else is too damn much. He just breathes, chest heaving, his back raw and everything hurting but he is in a state of pure bliss.
Eventually he can't ignore Owain's cock pressing into his stomach, and with a low groan he shifts his weight only enough that he can lean on one side, the opposite hand sliding between them to grasp Owain's length and slowly begin to pump him.
That it was the bandaged hand was certainly not thought out - it was all instinct.
He's not sure what Poe's doing at first, until he feels the scratch of pre-soaked bandages hitting his length, and then he's moaning with the last noisy scratch his throat can handle, biting his lip, keeping his eyes open against every instinct to shut them because he wants to see Poe like this. Exhausted but giving.
He fucks up into the hand a few times, but then he breathes out, resting his fingers over the man's wrist to still him. He rolls over to kiss Poe, slow and measured and anything but clumsy, and then collapses back into the sheets.
"I can-- do it. Just--"
He swallows, raising one hand, smooths a trace of blood and saliva off of Poe's lips with his thumb. Fuck. Uses that hand to grip his cock.
"Just-- watch me? And then we can-- sleep. Holding each other. If you want."
He makes a low sound of dissent when his wrist gets slapped, but he lets go obediently, meet the kiss with a hazy laziness. He leans a little forward when Owain pulls away again, as he was quite happy to keep kissing, thanks.
His lips part at the touch, a very sleepy smile flickering at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pad of Owain's thumb before he pulls it away. He has to move, in order to see, so with a low grunt he rolls off of Owain - his now flaccid cock slipping free - and slumps against his side.
He feels empty, without Poe, and that takes longer to adjust to than he thought it would. He lets the feel of cum roll down his thighs, out of the well-fucked and probably bruised hole Poe's left him with, and onto the sheets without giving even the smallest of fucks about the mess. He breathes hard and leans back against the pillow, shifting back an inch or two so Poe can see him better, and he jerks off with one shaking hand.
He watches Poe's expression the whole time, staying quiet other than shallow pants and the broken moans that come from erratic thrusts into his fist. It only takes a few minutes before his whole body tenses and his eyebrows pinch in the middle - he struggles to keep his eyes open so he can look at Poe's face, his perfect fucking face, because this is what he's cumming to, this is the reason why he's shooting his load, this man, this perfect fucking man -
His climax hits harder than the last one, spasms of twitching muscle and groans as he shoots thick ropes onto his own chest. He whispers Poe's name, like he's begging for something as he comes, and when he cools down he just... collapses, softening and easing, red and sweaty and messy and completely and utterly claimed.
"F..."
His eyelids are already starting to flutter shut, into sleep, but he pushes through it, rolling forward to steal a weak, energyless kiss.
Even utterly spent, it was hard not to be stirred by the sight - Poe wouldn't have been able to look away even if he'd wanted to. (He didn't.)
He shifted into the kiss, a little more energy than Owain had (as he'd had a few minutes to recover), but not a hell of a lot more. He raised a hand to Owain's cheek, however, holding him loosely in place, lingering on the kiss as long as the other man would let him.
When he finally let go he reached blindly for one of the sheets, scrubbing himself off haphazardly and then doing the same for Owain before curling in up against him.
He had the sudden, stupid urge to tell Owain that he loved him.
Owain curls up against Poe, chest to chest, eyes shut tight. It's that perfect blend of being warmed by another's body without it being oppressive, and he's drifting away, holding Poe as tightly as his spent and tired limbs will allow.
That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He rushes things, at first. Pins himself down on the first few inches of Poe's cock all at once, taking more than he should and biting his lip when it stings. He's impatient, he's young, he wants to handle this better - wants to get taken care of like he was in his dream. He hisses and he adjusts, leaning his weight into Poe's hands as he slowly, slowly lets himself sink, forcing himself to relax and open up to Poe in the way he's being taught.
It takes a while, but Owain is fucking determined to see this through, and he sinks lower and lower until Poe's balls are right against his ass and every mind-shattering inch of him is stretching him apart. He still has that instinct to just tighten, to wring each nerve in Poe's cock, but the way he looks at him, the way he whispers - it's enough to keep Owain relaxed, enough to keep him in check.
"I'm gonna..."
He's sweating, looking almost dazed when he meets Poe's eyes, half-lidded and darkened by lust. He takes a long breath, chest rising, abs tightening.
"I'm gonna... move. I'm gonna try to move."
no subject
He's almost nervous in a weird sort of way, which surprises him. Maybe it's because Owain keeps wincing, but he doesn't think so. It's something else. He can't put his finger on it.
When Owain bottoms out, Poe groans, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows of Owain's hips.
"... Yeah... Yeah, alright."
no subject
He starts to rise, and he can feel himself stretching and making way for Poe. He tries to keep eye contact the whole time, but once he starts hitting a rhythm he just-- clouds over, focused on the feeling of tight pressure filling him from the inside. His dick twitches and leaks fresh lines of precum every time the flared ridge of Poe's head brushes hard over that spot that just keeps fucking ruining him, and he's not moaning, not yet, he's going too achingly, achingly slow for that, but his lips part in voiceless need.
He fucks himself down on Poe about half a dozen times before he has to stop, skin red and flushed from exhaustion, knees shaking. He almost acts like he's waking up when his eyes drift back into focus, and he grins, dopey and kind of stupid, laughing easily from within his chest. Completely relaxed. No more anger.
"Fffffuck." He arches his neck down, finds Poe's ear, breathes against it. Bites the shell of it, right at the top, laughing again.
no subject
Owain's grin draws an immediate one in reply from Poe, his eyes crinkling with warm. He pushes himself up a little more upright, but still can't quite meet Owain's lips, so he presses a few clumsy, warm kisses to his chest.
"... You're going to... drive me completely insane," Poe murmured, almost a complaint, if there wasn't a deep well of fondness to the words.
no subject
Again, he rides Poe's cock for about four long, perfect seconds, and then he's back down, resting entirely on Poe's waist and breathing hard through his mouth. He's panting, labored and unsteady, and he raises both of his arms back from Poe,resting his hands on top of his own head and laughing out again. Fuck.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to-- just--"
He scratches through his hair and then rests his hands on Poe's shoulders, one hand drifting down enough to stroke slow, gentle motions against his collarbone. He'd been talking a big game, up until a moment ago, but this is Poe. This is what Poe does. Fucking ruins him, resets him to happy instead of subservient like Kes.
"Can you-- I want-- I want you to fuck me," he finally spits out. "I want-- you-- to fuck me. Please."
no subject
He considered telling him to move, but- decided against it. Instead, he moved the hand on Owain's hip to the small of his back - spreading warm fingers over his spine - and used his other hand to brace hard against the bed below. Keeping his hand firm on Owain's back, pressing him down against him, he rolled his own hips up, thrusting firmly deep into the man straddling him with a soft grunt.
Fuck, yeah, that was just fine. At least for a few thrusts. Each was slow and a little too spaced out, withdrawing only half way before thrusting deep again, and Poe was working his bottom lip between his own teeth, gazing up at him.
"You tell me exactly how you want it, and I'll give it to you," he whispered, thrusting up to make a point. "Any way you want it--"
no subject
But this is already too much, and he doesn't think he could handle that, not yet. He stays uncomfortably still as Poe fucks him, just-- adjusting-- until he can put a boundary between what he's feeling and what he wants. He shuts his eyes, tries to will down everything he's feeling to something more manageable, then carefully starts rocking his hips back into each thrust. It's slow, miniscule, but it's an attempt and that alone is a huge god damn sign of his agency in this.
When Poe thrusts up to make that point, he buckles down, already feeling his load boiling at his base.
"Just--" He takes a breath, looks down at Poe, open and vulnerable and trusting and ready. "Just-- if you make me cum-- don't stop? Keep going-- until I-- again. Okay?"
no subject
He started to roll his hips with a far less staggered rythym - each stroke leading into the next with a smooth thrust, deep, a little harder and a little sharper with each stroke. He could feel the strain in his arm where it braced the bed - the muscles clearly delineating, sharp under his skin, the veins running down to his wrist clear and taut. It took more focus than another position might have done, but that was just find by him. He didn't want to lose himself in this - not yet. Now that Owain had mentioned it, all he wanted was to make the man come while riding him, and only then give in.
So he kept a careful eye on Owain's face, panting as he fucked up into him, the pace getting a little faster and a little harder with every thrust despite himself.
no subject
He doesn't notice he's cumming at first. His eyelids flutter shut rather than squeeze tight as they always do when he unloads. That boiling, aching buildup in his balls doesn't quiet leave him, doesn't quite give way to an explosion of wracked fire and heavy panting - but he can feel it, he can feel the jets of cum leaving him, he can feel waves of static bult through his legs and he looks down as he watches himself shoot, handsfree, over Poe's stomach and chest. It doesn't feel like he's hit his climax, not really, even though he's steadily softening and cooling down, but if he was barely able to contain himself before--
His refractory period, however fucking short, overwhelms him with sensitivity. He grunts and bucks hard against Poe's cock, coming alive, arching back and breathing hard, muscles shifting under skin as he tightens, clenches hard, squeezes Poe's cock for everything it's worth. He's moaning and writhing and pinning Poe down but he wants-- he wants--
"Fucking-- fuck me-- fuck me, fuck me," He's barely breathing, cock already back to full mast, jutting through the air and desperate for contact. "Fucking-- hard? Hard, hard, come on--"
no subject
He pulled Owain's hips up roughly toward him, encouraging him to put a leg up over his shoulder as he grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up once more.
He pushed into Owain like a hot knife through butter, taking him balls deep in one, smooth thrust. He gave him maybe half a second to adjust before he was drawing out and the snapping his hips forward again, punishingly hard. He had a stupid smug half smile on his lips as he gazed down at Owain, fully planning on giving him exactly what he asked for.
"Oh, I'll fuck you," he promised huskily as he began to thrust, all of his weight behind every thrust deep into Owain's body, not sparing a damn care in the world for how hard he took him. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll see stars and yet not be able to remember how to scream--"
no subject
It hits him, with so much fucking clarity, how much he still just wants this on his own terms. None of this is about being a Pledge, or about fighting his role as a Pledge, or-- anything. He just wants Poe to fucking ruin him.
When he thuds back against the bed he moans, and he can feel it vibrate in his lungs with how loud it is. He reaches one hand back to grip the back frame of the bed and he holds on tight as Poe fucks him, each piercing thrust making him gasp. He doesn't have time to adjust after he pulls out for the first time, so when Poe fucks him he curves his spine off the bed and screams loud enough that he's pretty sure someone's gonna come knock on the door to make sure he's okay.
But he still wants control, even like this. Even as he listens to Poe's promises, half-lidded and needy, cock jerking and flexing hard, squeezing so, so tight around Poe, he still wants control. Equal control.
So it takes a minute for the desperation to pass, for the pure fucking lust to get wiped off his face, but when it does, he's smiling, hazy and well-fucked and happy. He reaches his hand out to Poe, drawing his nails back over the mark he left there, raking his fingers through the edge of his own cum. He acts like he's soothing Poe, suddenly, whispering shhh as if Poe needs to be fucking eased into this, eased into it as Owain was, as if he's the one who just screamed, and through all of this, he still finds it in him to laugh. Low. Challenging. Tightly, tightly wound, like it could snap into a wave of screams and begging at any moment.
"Yeah," he whispers, bringing his hand down to his own cock. He strokes it once, runs his head over the too-sensitive head and bucks back against Poe, hard, hard. "Nngh-- yeah. You're a good boy, Dameron. Fuck me so hard I'll be feeling it for a god damn month."
no subject
He'd felt mostly in control of himself, even when his restraint had snapped. Still felt like he was making decisions for his body, not the other way around.
But then Owain called him a good boy.
He flushed, darkly, and instantly - hadn't even known he could, with so much blood in his cock, but he did - his skin suddenly flamingly hot - his hips bucking hard to meet Owain's hips. He began to drive into him with a reckless abandon, each punishing thrust causing his balls to smack against Owain's ass with a dull slapping sound, pinning him hard into the sheets and then pulling almost the entire length out before slamming it back in again. It was very clear he was following orders.
He had absolutely no control at all, despite the position, and he had lost any ability to tell what his mouth was doing - cursing and grunting with every thrust. His impending orgasm came on extremely suddenly, his bucking hips turning a little more frantic, but he wasn't done--
"Hurt me--" he blurted out, far less of a promise and far far more of a plea. This was begging. "Hurt me, Owain, or I'm going to come right n-- fucking-- hurt me--"
no subject
He brings his fingertips to Poe's back, eyes all but rolling into the back of his head with each slap against his ass. He scratches up Poe's spine with one hand, finds his master's hair, holds tight in black curls and pulls him closer with an almost angry sounding ffffffffuck hissed through his teeth.
He pants, right up against Poe's ear, as he tries to find his voice.
"Do you really think... that'll stop you?" His voice is a whisper, and it's fucking drowning in barely contained restraint. It's wavering, tremoring, but his intentions are hard and solid, and he rakes his nails on his free hand down Poe's back, tearing at skin. "I... I c-- I could bruise you. Choke you. Make you bleed-- make you cry-- and... and all I'd have to do is tell you what a good boy you are-- tell you how much I fucking need this, need you, need you to fuck me, how much you're fucking helping me, how much you mean to me, how fucking-- insanely-- insanely, perfect your cock is-- and you'll be filling my ass with cum."
He curls his fingernails in, digging hard, as much for grip and stability as an intent to hurt. He snaps his neck back again, twisting his hips in weak miniscule fractions to get more friction against his cock, clenching his ass as tight as he can to keep Poe inside of him longer.
"You're-- you're a good boy, Captain Dameron," he says, rolling the words over his tongue, tasting the complete fucking breakdown of power, stripping the word Captain of any its authority. "So fucking good. Behaving for me. Being a good, good boy. Good boys deserve a reward, Captain. And I-- I wanna make you come."
no subject
A line of sweat was tracing from the base of his skull, trailing down his spine as he fucked into Owain, grunting with the effort, the sweat sliding into torn flesh and making it sting even more sharply than the cuts itself had, and his head was absolutely full of visions of Owain's hands on his throat, bruising his flesh--
He hissed as Owain's nails bit in again, and instead of keeping him from the edge, this time it pushed him right onto it, his thrusts staggering as he tried not to come right that second, Owain's muscles tightening even harder around him.
And then he lost it.
It was the words, more than anything else. The words and the sting of his sweat in the fresh marks on his back and intense pressure of Owain around his cock and the man's stupid whispered voice and that fucking grin and all of it, very suddenly, was too much. He roared, thrusting hard and deep and pinning Owain there - surging forward to take a crashing, clumsy kiss, as his climax hit with the force of a tsunami. He came harder than he could remember ever doing - wave after wave crashing through him as he unloaded deep inside of Owain, the cum coating his cock and sliding out, trailing down his balls. His muscles were all taut as a bow string - the effort making them shake and tremble, but he held himself tight and deep for as long as he could hold out.
no subject
Part of it is just because his body fucking forgets how to work, every part of him focused on each shot of cum blasting into him, each thick and heavy pulse of Poe's cock pressing right up against him and overloading his senses. Part of it is the weight of Poe, crushing his ribs, making him ache and feel trapped in a way he fucking loves, in a way that has his toes curling and his legs squirming as he locks one knee behind Poe's waist to keep him down, keep him there. He doesn't cum, but he's still so fucking hard, his cock leaving a bridge of precum from his tip to Poe's stomach.
He tries, just once, to keep up the teasing. To whisper good boy, to smooth this over, to hush gently into Poe's ear. But he breaks, and he writhes, and he does everything he can to sink lower on Poe's cock, screaming his name at the top of his lungs until he bites down hard into the line of muscle linking his neck to his shoulder. He pierces the skin, drawing fresh dots of blood, the taste of iron blooming on his tongue. He's almost crying as he moans into the wound, digging further scratches into Poe's back, leaving marks of red and pink.
When Poe's done he's fucking exhausted, riddled with pain, and he lets himself just fucking drop. Feeling the rush of cum drain out of him past Poe, sticky and warm and fucking perfect, cock twitching and begging for release between the both of them.
"Th... hh... hnnnghhgng."
Eloquent.
no subject
Eventually he can't ignore Owain's cock pressing into his stomach, and with a low groan he shifts his weight only enough that he can lean on one side, the opposite hand sliding between them to grasp Owain's length and slowly begin to pump him.
That it was the bandaged hand was certainly not thought out - it was all instinct.
"... Didn't... Get you a second time..."
no subject
He fucks up into the hand a few times, but then he breathes out, resting his fingers over the man's wrist to still him. He rolls over to kiss Poe, slow and measured and anything but clumsy, and then collapses back into the sheets.
"I can-- do it. Just--"
He swallows, raising one hand, smooths a trace of blood and saliva off of Poe's lips with his thumb. Fuck. Uses that hand to grip his cock.
"Just-- watch me? And then we can-- sleep. Holding each other. If you want."
no subject
His lips part at the touch, a very sleepy smile flickering at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pad of Owain's thumb before he pulls it away. He has to move, in order to see, so with a low grunt he rolls off of Owain - his now flaccid cock slipping free - and slumps against his side.
"... Yeah. Alright. Sounds like a plan."
no subject
He watches Poe's expression the whole time, staying quiet other than shallow pants and the broken moans that come from erratic thrusts into his fist. It only takes a few minutes before his whole body tenses and his eyebrows pinch in the middle - he struggles to keep his eyes open so he can look at Poe's face, his perfect fucking face, because this is what he's cumming to, this is the reason why he's shooting his load, this man, this perfect fucking man -
His climax hits harder than the last one, spasms of twitching muscle and groans as he shoots thick ropes onto his own chest. He whispers Poe's name, like he's begging for something as he comes, and when he cools down he just... collapses, softening and easing, red and sweaty and messy and completely and utterly claimed.
"F..."
His eyelids are already starting to flutter shut, into sleep, but he pushes through it, rolling forward to steal a weak, energyless kiss.
"F... fuck."
no subject
He shifted into the kiss, a little more energy than Owain had (as he'd had a few minutes to recover), but not a hell of a lot more. He raised a hand to Owain's cheek, however, holding him loosely in place, lingering on the kiss as long as the other man would let him.
When he finally let go he reached blindly for one of the sheets, scrubbing himself off haphazardly and then doing the same for Owain before curling in up against him.
He had the sudden, stupid urge to tell Owain that he loved him.
But he didn't.
no subject
That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
He falls asleep before he can act on it.