Chapter 192 - 186. To Reap Your Reward (M)
"Make love to me properly,"
It sounded like a command, like a siren call. Bassena bowed his head, letting his hair down and covering his trembling eyes, the clenched of his jaw, the gritting of his teeth. He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his heartbeat and maintain his self-restraint.
Or so he tried.
"Bas--"
Bassena raised his head and claimed the calling lips, hard, harder than before, while reaching out to the nightstand drawer. When Zein gasped for air, the esper pulled away; back straightened, a foil packet between his teeth, and a flame blazing in his eyes.
Looking at the older man keenly--his guide, his light, his desire--Bassena took his shirt off with heat coiling through his nerves. The heat was perfectly captured by Zein, whose breath grew shallow and stomach twitched in bared excitement as the esper unzipped his pants and tore the foil wrap with his mouth.
There, laying with bated breath in leftover sensation from his first orgasm, Zein scoured every expanse of the dark, bronze skin glistening in the last light of the day with his eyes. And all he could think was how beautiful this man was, and how foolish he was, for dragging things for too long. Wasn’t it adorable, how that handsome face was hardened with suppressed desire?
Zein propped himself on his elbow and raised his upper body, reaching up with his other hand to caress the clenched jaw. He pulled the esper down, on him, letting his vision be bathed in the liquid fire of the dancing ambers. He lifted his hips, fingers stroking the furrowed brows as he welcomed the pressure on his entrance, breaching his ring, and filling him full. The sting, the pressure, the pleasure--everything was a delight he had denied for himself, for them, for far too long.
He moaned, and he realized he only ever moaned for Bassena. It was a testament to how unburdened he could be when he was with the younger man. He felt safe making noise, feeling safe from getting lost in contentment. Even without his mask, even without his clothes. He was bare, and he felt safe all the same.
This man, who was groaning and frantically moving his hips like he was getting chased by something, was his security blanket.
But it was getting uncomfortable for him, so Zein grabbed the esper’s head, stopping him from moving. He lifted the face that had been hidden by the falling hair, which somehow looked as if the man was in anguish.