Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

It was unexpected in that moment, the way his lover so moved to takes his hands in his own before so having the Fae King place them upon the bed before him, affording the pair that truly different position, one that was perhaps well known by Sebastian and yet so provided something distinctly new for Dorian himself. After all, until Sebastian, the Monarch had simply refused to allow another to love him in this fashion at all, the vampire the sole being with whom he had ever permitted such things and yet it is perhaps that simple and unfading trust that so sees the man do as requested without even but a query as to why his companion might desire to have him as such. Dorian so simply trusting his lover's judgement in this. How he so relished being subject to those ideas of Sebastian in turn! After all, had not the vampire so surrendered to countless of his own? Dorian more than willing to experiment with any and every position his lover might so seek to place him within. The very notion that within his own years of experience the vampire might so be able to provide him with knowledge on any number of positions was a delightful thing indeed, Dorian assured to inquire as to just how many the man might know and yet for now he was wholly inquisitive of this one. There was perhaps, a certain vulnerability to such a position as this, upon his hands and knees, yet too- he could hardly deny that curiosity and even excitement that came with allowing such things off his consort, even if only because so few ever dared to even suggest as such. So few ever even bold enough to command off him anything between the sheets if only for the fear of his status once more and yet how glorious it truly was sometimes, to have another so unafraid to take that lead. How glorious it was too- to love that being so entirely.

The touch of his lover's hands upon his hips readily sees the man still in anticipation of just what he knew would follow, those evenings of practice readily seeing Dorian relax into that single, smooth movement far more easily then he once had. Sebastian so effortlessly finding that pace, that momentary discomfort passing to give way to nothing short of that glorious pleasure. Dorian wholly incapable of preventing those sounds of satisfaction that stirred within his throat in response before shifting but slightly to match his lovers tempo in this. It is the feeling of Sebastian's hand so softly passing over his thigh and towards those far more sensitive areas that stirs another groan of pleasure from within himself, a heated exhalation upon his lips as those areas so wholly desperate for his lovers touch are finally rewarded just that. Dorian so assaulted by a plethora of delight from every direction until it is so he hardly knows as to which he responds too, the Fae King taking but a moment to press through that haze of indecision that came from the skill alone of Sebastian's touch and movement from behind. Dorian pressing back more firmly against his lover now, so encouraging him only further to increase his pace and too the ardency of his movement- that pleasure so rapidly beginning to build within him. Those blissful sounds that came from within Sebastian himself were hardly missed, Dorian's own breathing decidedly heavier now, each roll f his lovers hips and too, each stroke of his hand only pressing the Fae King closer and lover to that inevitable edge.

Yet- for perhaps the first time it is Dorian whom so manages to resist that inevitable end, somehow so managing to hold himself back from it as he has never quite done before, pressing more firmly still into his consort if only to have him offer but a little more. Surprising the man perhaps with that unexpected show of endurance and too that unspoken request. That increase to his lovers pace is hardly missed, a soft groan so parting his own lips again, Dorian moving to adjust his own to meet that renewed ardency before he becomes aware of Sebastian's free hand reaching for his own. There is perhaps, the barest moment of hesitancy in such a gesture, if only for the simple matter of balance, Dorian unsure as to how to lift but one hand from that bed when he is sure he requires them both and yet it is but a moment later that sees the Fae King so grasp his lovers hand and allow himself to be guided upward and flush against this companion. How glorious that feel of Sebastian's heated skin against his back, the vampire failing to break in any of his motion as he did. That wealth of sensation provided to him still so utterly indescribable. Dorian so vaguely aware of those words whispered to his ear, a ghost of a simper finding its way to his lips in response all the same. He knew such a thing as that even without words, Dorian assured of that love as he was of nothing else and yet still there was pleasure to be found in it so being uttered, a sensation of warmth within his chest increased only by the position they found themselves within now, so wholly and wonderfully entangled.

He had near forgotten that hand that still rested within Sebastian's own, the vampires fangs so suddenly biting into his flesh. Dorian assured in that single second before that venom so accosted his system that he was destined to lose this even momentary battle and yet- what a glorious loss it was. The Monarch was utterly incapable of so maintaining his control in the wake of the veritable wave of pleasure he is assaulted with as the venom so overtakes bloodstream, the man tightening inexplicably around his lover in that final moment before he so finally reaches that high. He is left utterly breathless in the wake of it, heart near hammering within his chest and breathing so unsteady as he leans back into Sebastian's chest, his arm still held within the vampires grasp, leaving his lover to feed uninterrupted as he seeks to catch his own breath. He is wholly spent in the wake of it, that sheen of sweat covering his form all the same, hair ruffled in every direction and yet he can so feel that thrum of his companion's heart behind him. Dorian wholly satisfied in that moment at so having achieved his own goal. His words, when he finds them at last, are breathy and halting and yet entirely satisfied.

"One day I will win, you will see- but your heart is beating, I can feel it and that is a glorious thing. My idea worked, it seems."

Well- the first part had worked in the least. It was the second that would be decidedly more difficult.