[ The concept of time is currently somewhat lost on Prompto; it can't be more than a few seconds, but the moments that stretch between his desperate begging and Noctis pushing a third finger in beside the other two feel like an eternity. An eternity in which he's almost certain he's going to burn away, nothing left behind but dust and embers; his begging becomes less and less coherent, until he gives up on words entirely and just presses his boiling-hot face against Noctis' abdomen, almost crying with need. Nothing has ever felt like this, ever-- the intensity of each stab of arousal in his gut, the way his body clenches around those two fingers even still, like they're trying to suck them in deeper. This void, this ache.
The half-cry that breaks from his throat as the third finger glides in, however-- it (ridiculously) borders on grateful, and his hips roll back in a stuttered rhythm against the intrusion in a slow pantomime of sex. The burn of being stretched wider like this-- he had, of course, been easily fucking himself on three fingers before Noctis had made it here, but his digits are more slender, and he couldn't ever get the angle right, and this, this... fuck. If he could just-- get them a little deeper--
Prompto almost doesn't hear Noct say anything over the rush of blood in his ears, but he doubles back on it when those fingers start pulling slowly out of him again; he can't help the frustrated sob at the loss, but the tease connects, just as Noctis claps his hand against the underside of his thigh. The sudden sting, the flash of warm half-pain makes him nearly jump, a little yelp catching in his throat as he scrambles to get to where Noct needs him. Ready? He's so ready it hurts; Prompto manages to untangle their bodies enough to turn in place, bouncing slightly on his heels as he kneels there-- for just a moment, the purely dirty thought of straddling one of Noctis' legs and rutting against it crosses his mind, but. Soon. Soon. The alpha is reorienting himself now, pushing up to sit more properly back against the pillows, and... oh. The shine of slick, the spattered strings of white decorating his chest. (He'd made a hell of a mess, hadn't he...?) The thick, angry-red cock almost visibly throbbing by now, knot already noticeably wider than the shaft, Noctis' hand stroking firmly along the length of it. Not fair, not fair, he wants to whine, why do that when his body is so, so eager to do it for him? Vaguely, he's aware he's open-mouthed panting, and he must look every bit as desperate as he feels.
Which may or may not have an effect on Noctis' response: reaching over and snaring him by the wrist, tugging him in closer, and... softly praising him. Telling him he's good. Oh... oh. That shouldn't... make a flare of heat twist through the turbulent waves of lust inside him like it does, it probably shouldn't make him harder, make another little pulse of wet leak out into Noctis' lap, but. It does. (He'll have to figure out exactly why later, when he's not so distracted.) And it puts a particularly desperate edge onto his need; Noctis pushes in to raze his teeth over Prompto's scent gland, and Prompto presses closer, tangling his fingers into Noct's hair and throwing a leg over his hips to straddle him again. Which, of course, lines that throbbing cock right up with the cleft of his ass.
Prompto whimpers a little, nodding, clinging closer as he almost shyly shifts his hips, gently gliding back and forth with an unsure rhythm against the length of Noctis' cock, wetting it thoroughly, making goosebumps peak all over his body as the sparks of sensation rush up his spine. This has to feel good, right...? Gods, he wants Noctis to feel good too. ]
I'll-- be good... I'll be good. For you. Want it... nn, I'll be-- [ It's nearly mindless, whispered against Noctis' ear before a soft little keen at a particularly good rub makes his face drop against his alpha's neck instead, where he pants and mouths at his scent gland as well. ] Please, Noct, I wanna feel it...
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Date: 2018-04-05 07:00 am (UTC)The half-cry that breaks from his throat as the third finger glides in, however-- it (ridiculously) borders on grateful, and his hips roll back in a stuttered rhythm against the intrusion in a slow pantomime of sex. The burn of being stretched wider like this-- he had, of course, been easily fucking himself on three fingers before Noctis had made it here, but his digits are more slender, and he couldn't ever get the angle right, and this, this... fuck. If he could just-- get them a little deeper--
Prompto almost doesn't hear Noct say anything over the rush of blood in his ears, but he doubles back on it when those fingers start pulling slowly out of him again; he can't help the frustrated sob at the loss, but the tease connects, just as Noctis claps his hand against the underside of his thigh. The sudden sting, the flash of warm half-pain makes him nearly jump, a little yelp catching in his throat as he scrambles to get to where Noct needs him. Ready? He's so ready it hurts; Prompto manages to untangle their bodies enough to turn in place, bouncing slightly on his heels as he kneels there-- for just a moment, the purely dirty thought of straddling one of Noctis' legs and rutting against it crosses his mind, but. Soon. Soon. The alpha is reorienting himself now, pushing up to sit more properly back against the pillows, and... oh. The shine of slick, the spattered strings of white decorating his chest. (He'd made a hell of a mess, hadn't he...?) The thick, angry-red cock almost visibly throbbing by now, knot already noticeably wider than the shaft, Noctis' hand stroking firmly along the length of it. Not fair, not fair, he wants to whine, why do that when his body is so, so eager to do it for him? Vaguely, he's aware he's open-mouthed panting, and he must look every bit as desperate as he feels.
Which may or may not have an effect on Noctis' response: reaching over and snaring him by the wrist, tugging him in closer, and... softly praising him. Telling him he's good. Oh... oh. That shouldn't... make a flare of heat twist through the turbulent waves of lust inside him like it does, it probably shouldn't make him harder, make another little pulse of wet leak out into Noctis' lap, but. It does. (He'll have to figure out exactly why later, when he's not so distracted.) And it puts a particularly desperate edge onto his need; Noctis pushes in to raze his teeth over Prompto's scent gland, and Prompto presses closer, tangling his fingers into Noct's hair and throwing a leg over his hips to straddle him again. Which, of course, lines that throbbing cock right up with the cleft of his ass.
Prompto whimpers a little, nodding, clinging closer as he almost shyly shifts his hips, gently gliding back and forth with an unsure rhythm against the length of Noctis' cock, wetting it thoroughly, making goosebumps peak all over his body as the sparks of sensation rush up his spine. This has to feel good, right...? Gods, he wants Noctis to feel good too. ]
I'll-- be good... I'll be good. For you. Want it... nn, I'll be-- [ It's nearly mindless, whispered against Noctis' ear before a soft little keen at a particularly good rub makes his face drop against his alpha's neck instead, where he pants and mouths at his scent gland as well. ] Please, Noct, I wanna feel it...