[ He shifts his weight onto his knees, one broad hand planting itself firm between Ronan's shoulderblades to anchor him to the mattress like a butterfly pinned to a card-- the other drags and slides, slipping under his shirt, following the borderline where his skin disappears into the tightness of his jeans, round, down, seeking the hard heat of Ronan's cock trapped under stiff fabric... ]
[A dark smile flashes across Ronan's face, there and gone as soon as Kylo's weight shifts to trap him. That press is heavy enough to reduce Ronan's breath to sharp, short gasps. By the time he adjusts to the change, Kylo's hand is grasping at his cock. It finds him just as hard as before. Harder, maybe, for how much the fight excites him. The lack of air is certainly exacerbating the situation.]
[ Let him in, reeled him in. Whatever the truth of it, Kylo breathes in his possession, delighted with the evidence of Ronan's arousal. He palms him roughly, indulging himself in the way he can feel Ronan's gasping breaths translated through his entire body.
This is his prize. He can have Ronan however he wants, and he wants, he wants--
He doesn't need to see, his fingers deft and determined as they make short work of Ronan's jeans, grip rough as he pulls and tugs them down over his hips. ]
[A moan rolls out of Ronan, eyes flitting shut and head dipping to press his face into the sheets. His hips jerk in a tug-of-war between the urge to rut up against Kylo's hand and the struggle to remove his clothes. Or - not remove, but tear away just enough to expose him, leaving him prone to Kylo's furor.]
[ Kylo certainly doesn't have the patience to strip either of them off- he just wants all this fabric out of the way. He abandons his dangerously heavy hold on Ronan's back to focus on task, working Ronan's pants down before unfastening his own- and the next time he slides in close it's to feel Ronan's skin, the rolling thrust of his hips as he grinds against him all at once a threat and a promise. ]
[Ronan shudders as Kylo climbs back over him, steeling himself as if for battle. The pressure of Kylo's weight forces a shaky exhale out of him, and Ronan wills his body to lose some of its tension or else he knows he's going to suffer. Despite that - despite the threat pressing closer and sliding against his skin - his heart skips with anticipation.]
[ The words are low, barely more than a hissed breath as he takes Ronan's hips in a strong grip, dragging them up for a better angle, one that gives him a little more room to move. And he intends to move, once he's forced himself inside. He doesn't intend to stop. ]
I know you want it, Ronan. I know. I feel it. Say it.
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[ He shifts his weight onto his knees, one broad hand planting itself firm between Ronan's shoulderblades to anchor him to the mattress like a butterfly pinned to a card-- the other drags and slides, slipping under his shirt, following the borderline where his skin disappears into the tightness of his jeans, round, down, seeking the hard heat of Ronan's cock trapped under stiff fabric... ]
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He palms him roughly, indulging himself in the way he can feel Ronan's gasping breaths translated through his entire body.
This is his prize. He can have Ronan however he wants, and he wants, he wants--
He doesn't need to see, his fingers deft and determined as they make short work of Ronan's jeans, grip rough as he pulls and tugs them down over his hips. ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[ The words are low, barely more than a hissed breath as he takes Ronan's hips in a strong grip, dragging them up for a better angle, one that gives him a little more room to move. And he intends to move, once he's forced himself inside.
He doesn't intend to stop. ]
I know you want it, Ronan. I know. I feel it.
Say it.