[ That kiss comes somewhat unexpectedly; of course, Prompto doesn't exactly have a lot of prior experience to draw from, but having that soft mouth suddenly up against his own again even as he pants into it, having that talented tongue gently gliding and curling around his own makes a brand new flush of heat push up into his face. It's bliss and agony all at once; the little threads of pleasure that tingle in the base of his skull and weave slowly down his spine tangle up in the tightly knotted cords of electric need between his legs, igniting them.
(And oh, he can taste himself on Noctis' tongue-- the lingering notes of his own sweetness mingling entirely too well with the faint smoke-spice of Noctis' scent, and it all translates directly down to where he's rubbing himself against his alpha's cock, filling the room with this melted-together scent of them. Prompto's always been anywhere from ambivalent to outright disgusted with his own scent, but this... this feels like filling in the gaps. This feels like what it's supposed to be. And oh gods he loves it.)
Noctis snaps him out of his rose-colored reverie somewhat with a wet pop as their mouths break apart, murmuring reassurance, and-- oh. Gripping tightly at Prompto's hips, taking over the pace, grinding the omega down against him firmer, faster. Prompto's head snaps briefly back with the pulse of static that rushes up his spine; those hands feel good digging into his skin (there might be marks, gods he hopes there's marks), and the harder rubbing over his sensitive entrance is an entirely different pleasure than the soft overlapping waves his own pace had been giving him-- yes, yes. This is heavier, pleasure like a low drumbeat, reverberating through him.
Before Prompto can really build up any good peaks from it, though-- Noctis is gripping in tighter, pulling him up, ducking a hand down between them to line himself up, and-- Prompto shivers, face hotter than ever as he presses it against Noctis' shoulder. Finally, finally, this is happening. Something in his chest feels like it's about to cave in on itself, even amidst all the panted breath, the throbbing and the wet-- to be this close to Noctis, finally, truly his even if just for now...
The blunt head of Noctis' cock presses against his entrance, rubs slowly, sinking in. Even with all of the enthusiastic preparation, there's a low burn to the stretch, something that drags Prompto deliciously back into his own body; it's bigger than he's at all used to, but slowly, slowly-- he hears Noctis' soft encouragement against his ear, and he nods a little bit, nonverbal but quietly whimpering through the sensation, arms thrown around Noct's shoulders and fingers digging slightly into his back.
More. More. Every instinct in his body clamors to simply let gravity do its job and sink down entirely in one slick thrust, but Noctis' voice keeps him steady-- and there's something every bit as exquisite as feeling every. Single. Inch of it as it slowly fills him up. Noctis is so... hard, so hot inside of him, rubbing slowly up against sensitive inner walls and spreading him more and more open until Prompto feels like he's splitting in half, on fire, absolutely shaking with the burning pleasure running through him like a current.
He makes it as far as the knot rubbing up against his stretched-wide entrance, lightly pushing, before his strength seems to give out on him and he goes a bit limp in Noctis' arms, biting softly at his shoulder and moaning through hitched breaths. ]
Please... want your... knot... [ He sounds ruined already, needy and sensitized-- and an undercurrent of emotion that he can't even begin to tap down. ]
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Date: 2018-04-06 07:09 pm (UTC)(And oh, he can taste himself on Noctis' tongue-- the lingering notes of his own sweetness mingling entirely too well with the faint smoke-spice of Noctis' scent, and it all translates directly down to where he's rubbing himself against his alpha's cock, filling the room with this melted-together scent of them. Prompto's always been anywhere from ambivalent to outright disgusted with his own scent, but this... this feels like filling in the gaps. This feels like what it's supposed to be. And oh gods he loves it.)
Noctis snaps him out of his rose-colored reverie somewhat with a wet pop as their mouths break apart, murmuring reassurance, and-- oh. Gripping tightly at Prompto's hips, taking over the pace, grinding the omega down against him firmer, faster. Prompto's head snaps briefly back with the pulse of static that rushes up his spine; those hands feel good digging into his skin (there might be marks, gods he hopes there's marks), and the harder rubbing over his sensitive entrance is an entirely different pleasure than the soft overlapping waves his own pace had been giving him-- yes, yes. This is heavier, pleasure like a low drumbeat, reverberating through him.
Before Prompto can really build up any good peaks from it, though-- Noctis is gripping in tighter, pulling him up, ducking a hand down between them to line himself up, and-- Prompto shivers, face hotter than ever as he presses it against Noctis' shoulder. Finally, finally, this is happening. Something in his chest feels like it's about to cave in on itself, even amidst all the panted breath, the throbbing and the wet-- to be this close to Noctis, finally, truly his even if just for now...
The blunt head of Noctis' cock presses against his entrance, rubs slowly, sinking in. Even with all of the enthusiastic preparation, there's a low burn to the stretch, something that drags Prompto deliciously back into his own body; it's bigger than he's at all used to, but slowly, slowly-- he hears Noctis' soft encouragement against his ear, and he nods a little bit, nonverbal but quietly whimpering through the sensation, arms thrown around Noct's shoulders and fingers digging slightly into his back.
More. More. Every instinct in his body clamors to simply let gravity do its job and sink down entirely in one slick thrust, but Noctis' voice keeps him steady-- and there's something every bit as exquisite as feeling every. Single. Inch of it as it slowly fills him up. Noctis is so... hard, so hot inside of him, rubbing slowly up against sensitive inner walls and spreading him more and more open until Prompto feels like he's splitting in half, on fire, absolutely shaking with the burning pleasure running through him like a current.
He makes it as far as the knot rubbing up against his stretched-wide entrance, lightly pushing, before his strength seems to give out on him and he goes a bit limp in Noctis' arms, biting softly at his shoulder and moaning through hitched breaths. ]
Please... want your... knot... [ He sounds ruined already, needy and sensitized-- and an undercurrent of emotion that he can't even begin to tap down. ]