When the kiss ended, both of them catching their breath, Macalaurë planted a tender little kiss on Sören's forehead, and his lips slid down to the tip of Sören's nose. Before Sören's eyes, Macalaurë's hair lengthened from the middle of his back down to his thighs, his silver eyes flashed with blue, and the faint silver-gold aura was back.
Sören's breath hitched, his skin gooseflesh, hair standing on end. Tears stung his eyes, overcome by how beautiful Macalaurë was - and feeling deeply touched and honored to be allowed to see him this way. Sören reached up to touch Macalaurë's face, stroke the silky hair, play with the points of Macalaurë's ears. Apparently those points were exquisitely sensitive, because Macalaurë let out a breathy moan and bucked against him with a little shudder.
"You like that?" Sören asked.
Macalaurë nodded.
Sören grinned. He leaned in and licked the pointy tip of Macalaurë's right ear, making Macalaurë gasp, and Macalaurë moaned again when Sören sucked it. Macalaurë cried out as Sören gently nibbled it, and moaned again as Sören sucked on it some more. Sören gave the other ear the same treatment, his cock hardening painfully, slick pouring down his thighs, Macalaurë's Alpha scent intoxicating.
Macalaurë claimed his mouth again, and their hard cocks rubbed together as they kissed. "You're so beautiful, elskan," Sören husked between kisses.
"So are you." Macalaurë started kissing Sören's neck, licking it. Sören desperately wanted Macalaurë to make a claiming bite, but Macalaurë did not, only kissing and licking down his neck to his shoulder and back up, then licked down Sören's throat over his sternum, lowering his head to lap at a pierced nipple. Sören clutched Macalaurë's head and cried out, arching to him, panting, as Macalaurë drew the aching peak between his lips, sucking hard. His clever tongue lashed it some more, swirled around and around the nipple before lapping it again, suckling, then he turned to the other nipple, flicking it with his tongue, tugging on it with his lips, making Sören writhe and whimper. "You're lovely," Macalaurë purred before he suckled the nipple some more, harder.
Sören couldn't take it anymore. He shoved Macalaurë onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddled him. "I need you inside me NOW, damn you."
Macalaurë laughed and slapped Sören's ass, then he grabbed Sören's hips and gently guided him forward, closer to the hard, glistening cock ready for him. "Ride me like a wild bull, Sören. Show me your fire."
Sören sank down - it had been awhile since he'd taken a real cock, and Macalaurë's was quite a bit bigger than the last one, but Sören was so slick that Macalaurë's cock pushed in without much trouble. Sören sighed deeply when Macalaurë was buried to the hilt inside him, and again as he felt Macalaurë's knot swelling, stretching him. He leaned down to kiss Macalaurë, savoring that feeling of rightness at being joined this way, and then he rose up and began to work his hips, bouncing away.
Sören's hands roamed over Macalaurë's body, still in awe of his beauty, needing to express it through touch, wanting Macalaurë to feel how much he was loved, wanted. Macalaurë trembled at Sören's hands on him, especially when Sören's thumbs rubbed his nipples, or Sören's fingers traced the ridges of his washboard stomach. Sören's slick gushed down Macalaurë's cock as he rode, Macalaurë's knot rubbing that sweet spot inside him just right, and Sören's cock dripped precum over Macalaurë's stomach. Sören collected some precum with his fingers and stuck them in Macalaurë's mouth, and the look of bliss on Macalaurë's face as he sucked Sören's fingers almost undid Sören right then. Macalaurë moaned around the fingers in his mouth, licked them clean, and then he smacked Sören's ass, gripped Sören's hips tight, and began to slam away, balls slapping Sören's ass furiously, bed slamming against the wall.
Sören loved it, crying out, seizing fistfuls of Macalaurë's flood of hair, white-knuckled, holding on for dear life. The rhythm of Macalaurë's cock in and out of him brought Sören closer, closer, shaking, gasping for breath, giving little whimpers. The fierce look on Macalaurë's face, his gorgeous body, the way Macalaurë moaned and grunted, the slap of their flesh, all stoked the fire hotter. Sören's broken cries got louder and for an instant he feared the hotel staff would tell them to keep it down, and then he didn't care. The world could be about to end and this was all that mattered, riding Macalaurë's cock, that knot rubbing him and rubbing him, ever-deeper levels of pleasure and frenzied excitement.
Sören decided to tease his lover a little and worked his hips in circles, squeezed his inner muscles around Macalaurë's cock. Macalaurë growled, spanked Sören's ass, and pinched Sören's nipples. Then he reached for Sören's cock, one hand caressing up and down Sören's chest and stomach and thighs as the other hand played with Sören's cock, stroking it in the fast, wild rhythm of their fuck. Sören let out an urgent whine, he was right there, needing to come, not wanting it to be over just yet, but the release kept building, the point of no return...
"Come with me," Macalaurë gritted out.
Sören threw his head back and howled as his cream splattered Macalaurë's chest, painting Macalaurë's nipples, his hole pulsing, contracting, wave after wave of blissful relief. Macalaurë gave a cry of his own as he spent inside Sören, and Sören moaned at the feel of the hot seed flowing inside him. Sören leaned down and Macalaurë's arms wrapped around him as they kissed and kissed. The world seemed to stop, and the room glowed with soft white light, everything fading away except the two of them, lost in each other's eyes.
Macalaurë held Sören, petting him, his knot fusing them together. Sören drifted off for a little while and came back to himself when he noticed Macalaurë had slipped out of him, his knot finally receded, and Sören made a small grunt of protest at the empty feeling. Macalaurë laughed and rained kisses over Sören's face.
Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss, and they rubbed noses, smiling. Then they kissed again, less soft, more insistent, tongues teasing. The feel of Macalaurë's seed seeping out of him made Sören hungry for more, cock rising back to life as their mouths crushed together, kissing deeply. Sören's finger slowly trailed down Macalaurë's chest and then Sören giggled at the mess he made with his cum. Macalaurë laughed too. He stopped laughing when Sören licked it clean with long, slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue. Macalaurë groaned, yanking a fistful of Sören's curls as Sören lapped the cream from one nipple, then the other.
With the lingering taste of his own cum on his tongue, Sören kissed Macalaurë, letting him taste it, then he kissed back down Macalaurë's throat to lick and suck the pebbled nipples some more, making Macalaurë pull his hair again, groaning, grinding against him.
"You're beautiful," Sören said - no matter how many times he said it, it still didn't seem like enough. "I want to honor you. I want to love you."
"I want to love you, too." Macalaurë kissed Sören again, and gently rolled Sören onto his back. "Let me take care of you. Now that we're in less of a rush, I want to take my time and enjoy you." With that, he sucked on the index and middle fingers of Sören's right hand, then licked Sören's palm. Sören never knew his hands were so erotically sensitive, and he purred, a delicious shiver down his spine, straight to his cock.
Macalaurë's tongue traced the flames on Sören's right arm, then he kissed and licked his way across Sören's sternum to the left shoulder, lapping the ocean waves on Sören's left arm, sucking and licking the fingers and thumb of his left hand, licking his left palm. Macalaurë leaned down and kissed over Sören's heart. "You're a living work of art," Macalaurë said softly. "It's like the beauty of who you are translates into your outer form. It's like you painted yourself into being."
Such words from someone who himself was, Sören thought, more beautiful than any brush or clay could shape, brought tears to Sören's eyes. Macalaurë kissed him again, brushed a teardrop sliding down Sören's cheek, and then he kissed and licked down Sören's throat, to draw a hard nipple into his mouth. Sören bucked and cried out, hole twitching, slick pooling as Macalaurë suckled hard, tongue rubbing the taut peak before sucking it again. Macalaurë turned to the other and lapped, sucked, driving Sören wild. Back and forth he went, making Sören's nipples as long and thick as they'd ever been, glistening from Macalaurë's mouth, aching deliciously. The way Sören's nipples swelled seemed to entice Macalaurë to keep going, teasing them and teasing, licking, sucking hard, slurping at them, until Sören's nails dug in his back, and Sören tried to beg Macalaurë to fuck him but couldn't even make words. "Ma-ca. Ma. Ca. Ka-no. Kano."
Macalaurë stopped what he was doing long enough to smile as if Sören's babbling delighted him, and then he growled as he pulled a nipple hard with his lips, making Sören cry out. "Ma, ka, kano," Sören wept, thrashing, never wanting him to stop, yet desperate to be fucked. "Kaa..."
"Atya," Macalaurë sighed, before his tongue slid down Sören's chest to his stomach. Then he began to torment Sören there, kissing, licking, so good, making Sören even more desperate to be filled, yet utterly lost in pleasure. Sören flopped around, sobbing, pulling Macalaurë's hair, which only slowed Macalaurë down even more, tongue brushing more slowly, lightly, the kisses here and there over Sören's stomach and hips more languid.
Macalaurë kissed and licked Sören's inner thighs, and behind the knee. Sören's cock was completely wet with precum, and he could feel the wet spot underneath him from the slick dripping like a faucet. Macalaurë gave Sören's cock the same teasing with ever-so-slow, sensual strokes of his tongue up and down Sören's shaft, then sucking slowly, their eyes locked. Sören grabbed at the points of Macalaurë's ears, rubbing them, which made Macalaurë moan, and when he let Sören's cock slip from his mouth Sören thought maybe that was the trick and Macalaurë was going to fuck him now...
...and instead Macalaurë split Sören like a peach, draped Sören's legs over his shoulders, and circled the rim of Sören's opening with his tongue before he lapped away, murmuring his pleasure at the taste of Sören's slick. "So sweet," Macalaurë whispered. "Just like you."
Macalaurë's tongue was sweet, bringing him to that edge and keeping him there, rubbing his tongue fast then slow, light then hard, changing the rhythm like he was giving a musical performance, playing Sören like an instrument. Sören thrashed around, whimpering, panting, losing his mind at Macalaurë's tongue in him, tasting his slick. Every now and again Macalaurë pulled back, licked his lips, letting Sören know how much he loved it, before he dug in again. Soon Sören was grabbing Macalaurë's hair again, rocking his hips, desperately fucking himself on Macalaurë's tongue, keening. He was so close, so close, but it wasn't enough. He needed cock. He needed Macalaurë's cock. His Alpha.
And yet, when Macalaurë came up to kiss him, sharing the vanilla-like taste of his slick, Sören remembered the way he'd broke a couple of nights ago when Macalaurë touched him, after months of skin hunger, starving for it, and he could only imagine it had been even longer for Macalaurë, that Macalaurë needed this even more than he did. Sören rolled Macalaurë onto his back and after a few deep kisses, cock rubbing cock, Sören began to kiss Macalaurë all over, taking little licks between kisses, hands following the path of his tongue in slow, lazy circles. He lingered at Macalaurë's nipples, teasing them into plumpness, so much fun to suck on, and he worshiped the perfect, rock-like planes of Macalaurë's stomach, kissed and sucked on his hips, licked and nibbled at Macalaurë's thighs, licked down the calves, licked the arches of his graceful feet, sucked on each toe, something he'd never done before, but even Macalaurë's feet were as beautiful as the rest of him, toes long and elegant. Sören kissed, licked, and caressed his way up, wanting Macalaurë to feel the love radiating in his touch, wanting it to burn away the years of lonely cold. He knew it couldn't undo whatever tragedy had befallen Macalaurë and his kin, it wouldn't change the past, but here and now, he wanted Macalaurë to know he was loved, they hadn't known each other for very long but Sören knew him, got him, kindred spirits, and each kiss, each touch, was his acceptance...
...his desire.
Macalaurë's cock jolted, precum beading down his shaft as Sören licked up his stomach, back to feast on his nipples some more. After a few rounds of lapping and suckling the deliciously thick nubs, Sören grinding against Macalaurë's thigh, Sören cried out as Macalaurë roughly yanked his curls, drawing him up into a kiss.
"You want more of this?" Macalaurë growled, bringing Sören's hand down to the hard cock waiting for him.
Sören nodded vehemently. "God, yes."
Macalaurë kissed him, and hooked one of Sören's legs around his waist. They both cried out when Macalaurë was inside him again, and Sören gave a shuddery sigh, trembling as his body thrilled to the feel of Macalaurë knotting in him once more.
Where their first fuck had been urgent, feverish, this one started slower, Macalaurë rolling his hips like the push and pull of the tide, kissing Sören over and over, their hands joined. The slow, sweet sensuality teased both of them, moaning into the kisses. Then they let go of each other's hands to let them wander, exploring each other's bodies, caressing, and the kisses deepened, fiercer, Macalaurë rocking his hips a little faster, a little faster, Sören rolling back at him, until Sören locked both arms and both legs around him, holding Macalaurë with all of him, and Macalaurë let him have it, kissing Sören passionately as he pounded Sören into the mattress, balls smacking away, the wet sloppy suctioning sound of Macalaurë's cock pumping in and out of Sören's slick passage getting louder than Sören's kiss-muffled cries, the bed rocking viciously against the wall. The pleasure built higher and higher, to the shatterpoint, and Sören held there, needing to come but never wanting this to stop, feeling like he might die of it, feeling almost like he was burning up in his body's urgency to release, but it was a blaze of glory, all-consuming, immolating, a sacrificial fire he was offering to the ancient being taking him, loving him, wanting to love him right back.
This time Sören climaxed without needing his cock stroked, and spurted so hard that his cream rained all over Macalaurë's face and chest, some even got in his hair... and Macalaurë put out his tongue to catch some of it. As Macalaurë tasted Sören's essence directly, he gave in to his own climax, shaking, gasping. He buried his face in Sören's shoulder and gave a little howl, and Sören began rocking them both as tears streamed down his face, his pleasure throbbing in time with Macalaurë's cock pulsing inside him, hearts beating in the same rhythm. Everything was too bright, too beautiful, the fire of passion burned up and now it was like being a phoenix, soaring, into the light of the sun.
"I love you," Sören said.
"I love you." Macalaurë kissed him.
They rolled onto their sides and held each other, clung together. Sören snuggled into Macalaurë's chest and savored one perfect, shining moment when he felt absolutely loved. He hoped that Macalaurë felt it too, thumb tenderly stroking the burn scar on Macalaurë's hand before he passed out.
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