"Not yet," Landen said. He waited. Stroked his thigh gently, soothingly, until Adriel's breathing slowed and the desperate edge of his arousal faded to something manageable.
Then he lowered his head again.
This time he took him deeper. His tongue worked him with that same devastating patience, bringing him up and up until Adriel was right there again, right on the edge, his whole body tensed and waiting.
And then he pulled off again.
Adriel sobbed.
"Again," Landen said.
The third time, Landen used his hands.
His grip was perfect, tight and slow, his thumb circling the head with each upward stroke. Adriel was shaking uncontrollably, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, his wrists pulling uselessly against the silk tie. He was babbling, he knew he was babbling, words that weren't really words anymore, just sounds, just pleading.
"Pleasepleaseplease… I can't… please…"
Landen's voice was low against his ear. "You can. You're doing so well. Such a good boy."
Adriel sobbed again. The praise undid him more than anything. More than the touches, more than the teasing, more than the relentless building of need.
Good boy.
No one had ever called him that. No one had ever looked at him like this and said those words and meant them.
Landen's hand slowed. Stopped.
"Please," he gasped. "Please, Landen, I'll do anything… just please let me…"
Landen kissed his forehead. Soft. Tender. Completely at odds with the cruelty of what he was doing.
"I know," he murmured. "Soon."
The fourth time, Landen turned him over. Face pressed into the pillow, hips raised. Landen's mouth found the back of his neck, his shoulders, his spine. Kissed down each vertebra, slow and deliberate. His hands spread over the curve of Adriel's ass, squeezing gently, and Adriel pressed his face into the pillow and moaned.
Then Landen's tongue found him. Wet and hot and impossibly good. It traced over the rim, circled it, pressed inside just slightly before retreating. Adriel's whole body shook with it, his cock leaking against the sheets, his hips pushing back without permission.
"Please," he begged. "Fuck…"
Landen's tongue kept working him. Slow and thorough and devastating. His hands held him open, kept him exactly where he wanted him, and Adriel had never felt so exposed and so wanted in his entire life.
"So good for me," Landen murmured against his skin. "Taking everything I give you. So perfect."
Adriel couldn't speak anymore. Could only shake and wait and want.
Finally, Landen moved.
Adriel heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of a condom wrapper, and nearly wept with relief. Then Landen was behind him, his hands on his hips, the blunt pressure of him pushing slowly inside.
The relief was overwhelming.
Adriel cried out as Landen filled him; slow and steady, seating himself fully and then stilling, letting Adriel feel every inch of him.
"Okay?" Landen asked.
"Yes," Adriel gasped. "God, yes."
Landen pulled back and thrust forward. Hard. Urgent. Less gentle than before but no less attentive. The first stroke drove deep, hitting that spot inside Adriel that made stars burst behind his eyes. Adriel's moan was punched out of him, loud and helpless.
