[ so it isn’t enough for him, huh? so goddamn greedy. the thing is – shiro is, too. he thought, for a moment there, that this would be enough for himself: keith face down in the bedding, making wet spots with his mouth and his cock, so delirious with pleasure that the sounds coming out of him are beyond description. beautiful falls short. sinful is close. before, shiro said sex with anonymous was the best he’d ever had; this is better. so much better. there is no coming back from this. this is it. he’s ruined for anyone else. there’s never going to be a someone else who opens for him like this, takes him like this, begs for him like this…
yeah. begs. keith is wailing for daddy now, pleading to see his face and – fuck. suddenly, it’s not enough. not the sweat beneath his palm, not the clench of those fingers in the sheets, not the curve of that spine angling hips up to meet for a delicious slap… none of it is worth anything when that gorgeous face is buried in the bedding, obscured by tangles of hair.
shiro ruts into that tight heat once, twice more and then slides free. weight lifts off of keith in the same movement, giving him one, precious tick to breathe some stability into that empty body… and then that tick is spent and shiro’s hands are on keith again, flipping him onto his back. that movement is rather unceremonious; too rushed, too rough. but afterwards… there’s a shift in shiro’s demeanor. yes, he’s still brazen with desire, overtly confident in his domineering persona, but this time, when he takes himself in hand to butt his cockhead to keith’s wet hole, he takes a pause.
suspended in that position, shiro doesn’t push forward with his hips, only his torso. he gets both elbows to the mattress and frames keith’s head, hands coming in to smooth across keith’s face, pulling back the hair. gently, sweetly, like he actually has patience to let keith focus on his face before he gets back inside him. hands resting on either side of keith’s head now with wisps of hair caught between his fingers, shiro smiles down at his boy and lets the patience run out. with that, he pushes deep inside, in one, solid thrust.
it takes no time at all for the fervor to reach the same level as before. he forces keith’s legs wider through his thrusts alone, pelvis hitting hard and own thighs wide for leverage, everything bumping together in a messy race for the finish. keith said he’s almost there. shiro isn’t too far off, either. keith has to get there first. ]
Time to let go, sweet boy.
[ breath heavy as he pants above keith’s face, shiro somehow manages to keep his voice steady and unbroken. his floof is sticking to his forehead, strands sweat curled and scattered, but he’s still got that cock-sure smile, the pleasure making it tight. throughout, he keeps his gaze firmly on keith, no fluttering lashes, no closing eyes. he wants to see the moment the pleasure crests. he wants – ]
c:
yeah. begs. keith is wailing for daddy now, pleading to see his face and – fuck. suddenly, it’s not enough. not the sweat beneath his palm, not the clench of those fingers in the sheets, not the curve of that spine angling hips up to meet for a delicious slap… none of it is worth anything when that gorgeous face is buried in the bedding, obscured by tangles of hair.
shiro ruts into that tight heat once, twice more and then slides free. weight lifts off of keith in the same movement, giving him one, precious tick to breathe some stability into that empty body… and then that tick is spent and shiro’s hands are on keith again, flipping him onto his back. that movement is rather unceremonious; too rushed, too rough. but afterwards… there’s a shift in shiro’s demeanor. yes, he’s still brazen with desire, overtly confident in his domineering persona, but this time, when he takes himself in hand to butt his cockhead to keith’s wet hole, he takes a pause.
suspended in that position, shiro doesn’t push forward with his hips, only his torso. he gets both elbows to the mattress and frames keith’s head, hands coming in to smooth across keith’s face, pulling back the hair. gently, sweetly, like he actually has patience to let keith focus on his face before he gets back inside him. hands resting on either side of keith’s head now with wisps of hair caught between his fingers, shiro smiles down at his boy and lets the patience run out. with that, he pushes deep inside, in one, solid thrust.
it takes no time at all for the fervor to reach the same level as before. he forces keith’s legs wider through his thrusts alone, pelvis hitting hard and own thighs wide for leverage, everything bumping together in a messy race for the finish. keith said he’s almost there. shiro isn’t too far off, either. keith has to get there first. ]
Time to let go, sweet boy.
[ breath heavy as he pants above keith’s face, shiro somehow manages to keep his voice steady and unbroken. his floof is sticking to his forehead, strands sweat curled and scattered, but he’s still got that cock-sure smile, the pleasure making it tight. throughout, he keeps his gaze firmly on keith, no fluttering lashes, no closing eyes. he wants to see the moment the pleasure crests. he wants – ]
Show daddy.