Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

Crowned Prince of Italy

God, the very sensation of Dorian's fit figure surrounding him with nothing short of utterly exquisite. How long he had waited for even an ounce of the fae King's attention. Though that level of want that invaded him was largely his own fault, that longing was all but eclipsing as he struggled to remain still, allowing his husband that tentative moment to adjust to those feelings that surely assaulted his lover's own frame. Such inaction hardly lasted long, however, before Sebastian's hips rose, prompting those very groans he all but adore to hear. How terribly arousing such moans were from his lover's lips! A soft sound reverberated in the back of his throat, meeting Dorian's groan with one of his own. His hand rose to settle upon Dorian's hip in both an effort to assist his husband in that peculiar position and the finesse that was surely require of the fae King in the moment, much less for the vampire's distinct desire to control the very rhythm of the pair's movements. He felt Dorian shift above him as the Monarch rose to his arms, near eagerly meeting each of Sebastian's thrusts. After all that had occurred tonight, after coaxing to life Dorian's own more demanding nature, after allowing himself to be so readily taken by the King of Italy in the Monarch's own throne, endurance was a particularly difficult feat tonight.

His own breath so quickly became ragged, his own body perhaps eager for that release that he had been denied, much less for the sensations of tightness that now so afflicted him with each and every movement of either of their figures. Sebastian was so innately aware of just how every minute movement affected Dorian's figure, and himself in turn. Although Sebastian remained largely silent in the wake of his lover's permission to release himself from those earlier promises he had been requested to make, the vampire had every intention of seeing through that newfound freedom. After all, though he might have like to think himself a particularly adept lover, there was no denying that even he was quickly reaching the very edges of that fraying self-control. That very pleasure he so gleaned from Dorian's figure was near overwhelming and yet, he had a distinct desire to feel more of his husband. His hand rose almost abruptly, brushing across the silken flesh of the Italian fae's hip, only to dip own to the length of Dorian's own surely satisfied figure. His fingers so easily embraced the Monarch, his touch entirely firm as his fingers caressed the King, clearly striving to bring back that readiness all over again.

His caresses seemed to bring a renewed wave of sounds from his lover's lips, the Monarch's body quickly reacting in the way he so desired. How he enjoyed subjecting the only man he' ever truly loved to those sensations over and over again. The very sensation of the King within his palm was the promise he needed to stave off that satisfaction for several moments longer. That breathlessness upon Dorian's lips prompted a soft chuckle of his own. It was...endearing, perhaps, that Dorian thought so highly of his own physical fortitude when the truth was he danced upon that very line. His own admittance to his desires seemed to cause his lover to shift, pressing downward against Sebastian own groin that prompted a certainly audible moan from the vampire's lips. That singular action, it seemed, serve to undo whatever patience he had clung to in those moments as the vampire suddenly shifted. His mouth parted as he leaned upwards just enough to let the tips of his pointed fangs brush against the tenderness of Dorian's neck. The sensation of that touch alone readily seemed to prompt a reaction Sebastian could distinctly feel, both within his hand and nestled so deeply within the Monarch. That soft gasp of anticipation was quickly rewarded by the very plunge of his fangs and yet, tonight, it was hardly that desire for blood that so clawed at him. Oh no, his entire intention was solely focused upon utilizing his own venom - to let it ravage his husband's system and, in turn, to bring them both over that edge.

The very introduction of his own unique blend of venom into Dorian's figure seeme to prompt an almost instantaneous reaction from the fae. He was well aware of that sudden embrace of the King's frame around his figure, that very feeling of Dorian's own climax so tore that completion from Sebastian himself. His hand upon his lover's hip seemed to tighten in that moment, those groans upon his lip fell with far more frequency between those labored breaths. His own spine arched ever so slightly, that staunch denial for so long only seemed to make that satisfaction all the more intense when he so finally gave into those feelings. How he so readily seeme to fill the fae King's frame in the wake of that completion before the vampire so readily collapsed against the trodden down carpets beneath him. Slowly, his hand fell from his lover's figure, falling, palms up, onto the carpet in that exhaustion that so sharply seemed to tug at him in the wake of their coupling. His chest rose and fell steadily, his breath audible as he tried to regain some steadiness. For several long moments he was, admittedly, just as content as Dorian himself to merely lay there, with his husband so nestled against him.

He was well aware of Dorian's fingers reaching for his own, their hands intertwining as Dorian raised them to his chest. How fast the Monarch's heart seemed, in those moments! The very steady beat of it both heard and felt by the vampire, reminding him of what he had almost forgotten of in the wake of his own selfish satisfaction. Slowly, he shifted just enough to let his tongue lick at those wounds upon the King's neck, encouraging the blood to clot and close. The entire action was sluggish, his tongue moving near languidly before Sebastian simply settled for laying there, with his nose against Dorian's neck and his hand nestled in his lover's own against the King's chest. A soft sound of protest left his lips as Dorian finally shifted sometime later, his own physic still sensitive enough that even such a movement so assaulted him with sensations. The Englishman hardly moved, however, as Dorian merely shifted to settle beside him. His bright blue eyes glanced down as Dorian's head nestled upon his shoulder as the King settled within his arms, his hand finding its place upon Dorian's chest all over again. How content he might have been to simply lay there for the rest of the evening, as impossible as it was.

He watched as Dorian's own silver gaze turned upwards towards the ceiling, the man's idle comment prompted ready laughter from Sebastian himself before his head shook ever so slightly in amusement. "I'm happy to help you get a new view of your palace." He teased, that warm simper settled on his features as Dorian's head shifted, the King's lips pressing against his cheek. How he so loved moments such as this! When they were alone, enveloped within one another in a way that simply felt so right. The King's nearly mischievous tone to his voice drew Sebastian's thoughts, the vampire incapable of helping that soft snort that left his nose. "My sheep farm will benefit terribly from that added goat." He commented, only for an almost contemplative glimpse to cross his features at that inquiry of chandeliers. "I think I require a further examination of them before I decide." Sebastian responded after a moment, the corner of his lips tilted upwards ever so slightly before he leaned forward, his lips pressed sweetly against the Monarch's forehead. "What do you think our chances are for avoiding Benito for the rest of the night?" Sebastian inquired with the faintest touch of a complaint within his distinctly British lyrics.