[Sex had always more or less walked the fine line between pain and pleasure to Richard. Damnation and salvation, death and rebirth. Buckingham had always known how to pick him apart, melt the hard and cold exterior, cutting down the suffocating thorns. All so that what lied underneath the layers of self-doubt, hatred and resignation could be free. And while it was truly unfair to all parties to compare the two men to each other, but there was no denying that there was something similar. Both Buckingham and Silco were able to disarm him fully, make his body bend along theirs while dragging something deep and hidden out from within him.
Richard's body spasmed on all of it's own, seeking for the release that was dangling right in front of him. It knew what it wanted and was ready to reach for it without any shame. It is the moment like these when Richard felt like he was in the brink of the death, only to be reborn from the ashes of the husk left behind by the old him.
The feverish lips against his neck, repeating his name like a prayer and hand returning to stroke him while he still was being filled to the brink were almost too much for him. He peeked beneath wet bangs, sticking to his forehead, and he could swear he saw the room spin a bit. But the threatening trees with their threatening claws stayed away. No, this was wholly different kind of madness.
But it was lips returning against his own, demanding and controlling his attention that truly did him in. As the praise was whispered Richard could feel his throat tighten uncomfortably and stinging sensation burning his eyes. He closed his eyes tightly shut, bringing his injured hand to cover his face. And then with a stifled sound, one reminding a held back sob, he couldn't hold it together, spilling for the second time during the night.
It seems like tonight he was finishing with a whimper, not a bang.]
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branchandroot
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Date: 2024-07-27 12:59 pm (UTC)Richard's body spasmed on all of it's own, seeking for the release that was dangling right in front of him. It knew what it wanted and was ready to reach for it without any shame. It is the moment like these when Richard felt like he was in the brink of the death, only to be reborn from the ashes of the husk left behind by the old him.
The feverish lips against his neck, repeating his name like a prayer and hand returning to stroke him while he still was being filled to the brink were almost too much for him. He peeked beneath wet bangs, sticking to his forehead, and he could swear he saw the room spin a bit. But the threatening trees with their threatening claws stayed away. No, this was wholly different kind of madness.
But it was lips returning against his own, demanding and controlling his attention that truly did him in. As the praise was whispered Richard could feel his throat tighten uncomfortably and stinging sensation burning his eyes. He closed his eyes tightly shut, bringing his injured hand to cover his face. And then with a stifled sound, one reminding a held back sob, he couldn't hold it together, spilling for the second time during the night.
It seems like tonight he was finishing with a whimper, not a bang.]