Ghould Night

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The scene laid in front of you might as well have been a sculpture carved out of the finest marble. On the silk fitted sheets lay none other than the commander of the Shadow Company itself, a glistening layer of sweat sheened off of his tense form. Dark blond locks lay dampened against his forehead, slicked and tangled from your fingers and his alike raking through them.

His lips curled back into a half there noise, showing off the sharpness of his pearly whites as yet another shudder racked his form. For the better part of the hour, you'd been relentlessly teasing him. A hand on his thigh skimmed up, up, up so close to the throbbing hardness that leaked pearlescent drops from where it curved over onto his abdomen and the neatened happy trail there. Yet every time when his hips shifted upwards in a silent plea and his eyes rolled back the smallest bit, back arching so prettily, you guided your touch away once more.

To make matters worse for him, or better for you, you had him quite full of yourself. Literally. It's better than being full of himself and his attitude, as per usual. That's how you always reasoned it. Having something nestled inside of him in the most intimate way always served as a good attitude adjuster which was much needed when dealing with someone like Phillip. And what better way to do it than to warm him up, nice and slow, and get him properly acquainted with his favorite toy?

Much to his frustration, however, you didn't move. You kept him settled against the sheets, your length unmoving in him as you traced along his form, drawing invisible patterns only you could see. This time as your fingers diverted, skimming across the scar on his hip once more, a noise half akin to a whine left his lips as his eyes fluttered opened. In what must've been his best attempt at a glare, he exhaled a noisy huff, his nose crinkling as his head thumped against the pillow.

"C'mon, now you're just being a cruel bit-" He sneered, though his words caught in his throat when you grasped his shaft firm, circling your fingers tight around his base.

His eyes fully rolled back, a choked gasp leaving his lips when you squeezed your hand around it even tighter. Fingers clawed at the sheets, tangling them in his grasp as all planes of his muscles tensed again, his stomach sucking in as he tried bucking his hips. Your other hand held him firm, halting the motion as you shoved him back into the mattress, pinning his abdomen with your forearm.

"Phillip." You tutted with a click of your tongue, your eyes narrowing right back, "I thought I taught you better manners than that."

Whatever glare or venomous expression he tried to muster back melted off of his face when you delivered yet another squeeze to the base of his cock, feeling how it twitched in response. No matter how he protested or how his brows knit together, there's no denying just how much he liked it when his excitement practically wept for attention. You're sure if you kept it up, he might just follow suit.

Releasing his cock, you laid it on his abdomen as you raked your nails up his side, just enough to leave angry, red lines highlighted over the slight tan of his supple flesh. A violent shiver danced down his spine as his back arched once more, head tossing back against the pillows as his pretty lips parted in yet another silent noise. Your other hand moved to rest beside his head, dropping to your forearm as you removed your weight and touch alike from him and braced, causing the bed to shift with another creak.

Tracing up and across his ribs, you splayed your hand over his sternum, keeping him pinned to the mattress. The tackiness of his pre-spend mixed with the droplets of perspiration beading like fresh drops of dew as you rested it there. Subtle curls of his paler chest hair swirled in mused whorls that you further teased with a single finger, dancing around the area right above his rapidly beating heart. Every shuddering breath, every quavering beat of his heart, resonated through your fingertips, right to your very core.

The healthy flush dappling his cheeks and chest alike might soon match the redness of the sheets he insisted upon if you kept it up. That thought brought a smirk to your lips once more, for once meeting no immediate comment from Graves as he kept his eyes squinted closed for another two moments more as he took in shuddering breaths.

When he opened them with tepid languidness, his vision hazy, those normally so wicked sky blue eyes of his scarcely had much focus. His throat bobbed as he closed his mouth, swallowing with a shaky exhale. The contemplation that shone in his eyes was palpable as he studied you, his fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets as the gears in his pleasure addled brain turned on a slow speed in the hazy heat you had built between you.

Licking his lips, he couldn't hide the tremble in his Texan drawl as he spoke once more, "And I... Thought... you knew better than to tease me." He challenged, his nostrils flaring as he canted his hips up, trying to find friction on the nothingness that now graced his lower body.

Ever the brat, he stubbornly refused to break eye contact as he arched his back and hips once more, a ridiculously pleased, self-satisfied noise leaving his lips as he felt the girth of the silicon stretching the sensitive furl of his hole open rub against his walls once more. He didn't hide how his teeth sunk into his lower lip nor how he shuddered in delight.

With a sigh, you eased your hips forwards, drawing his corded thighs over your hips once more as you settled yourself firm against him, bottoming out fully. A satisfied hum echoed from his chest as his toes curled, head lolling to the side as he exhaled a harsh breath through his nose.

Your movements kept still in response for a long, few moments. The silence that stretched between you was anything but comfortable, yet his mind clearly was elsewhere - likely on the stretch of the toy instead. As bratty as he was, he always made for a lovely sight as he lay there like the king himself, pleasure highlighted from the flutter of his pale lashes to the twitching of his cock and flexing of his abs as he breathed in deep breaths, savoring the feeling inside and out.

"You want it that bad?" You spoke after a few, long moments when he attempted to rock his hips once more, only being met with yours cemented in place, refusing to allow him that leeway.

A verbal answer wasn't something you expected, or ever got unless you made him sit there and use his words for a new scene or something you explicitly demanded clear consent for. Phillip wasn't ever one to say things like 'yes' or 'please', no. He's one who expected anything you gave towards him, as if he were entitled to every moment of his pleasure and yours alike.

So it wasn't a surprise when he didn't nod nor did he utter yes, he simply sighed once again, lifting his head to glare at you as he tried to rock his hips down and back in vain, trying to chase the elusive pleasure that evaded him so.

"No." Came the simple command as you lowered your voice to a hiss, something he paid no heed to as he tried yet again.

The hand that had braced on his chest at once snaked up to the base of his throat, circling around the flat of it as you splayed your hand across. An immediate intake of breath and a whole body shudder as he froze was exactly the response you'd been hoping for.

Those pretty blue eyes slid open, dilated pupils nearly drowning out the color as he peered up at you through his lashes, his tongue darting along his canines as he held still. The rise and fall of his chest matched the quickened beating of his heart as his soft, shallower breaths left him in visibly excited puffs. His hands trembled in the sheets as he held himself as still as he could, his gaze unable to leave yours as you leaned down.

"You want it that bad, huh?" You breathed as you arched an amused brow, the leering grin dancing on your lips anything but kind or welcoming.

"You want it that bad that you're going to act like a damn brat?" You repeated, this time moving your hips back in a drag slow enough for him to feel every ridge and bump of the toy as it tugged him open yet left him empty all the same.

A pathetic, keening noise graced your ears as he clenched down hard enough for you to feel the resistant tug of his body as you eased yet another inch out, the violent shudder of his form breaking the near motionless trance that held him taught. "No, no, don't. I've been so good, don't baby-" He babbled in a single breath as his body swayed with the motion, desperate to not let you deny him any further or the delicious fullness he craved.

"Quiet." You snapped, bucking your hips forward enough to force the length back into him just as he seemed to beg for in a fluid motion that knocked the air from his lungs (and yet another noise to boot).

His back arched off the bed, throat bared as he twisted and writhed, teeth sinking so hard into his bottom lip you're sure it would draw blood. "Yes, fuck, that's it. Give me-"

Your grasp on his throat tightened once more, cutting him off as yet another roll of your hips punched a breathy moan from his lungs, draining him of most of his breath. "I said, quiet." You emphasized with further pressure on the thin skin that he had bared for you moments prior.

The bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed met the warmth of your palm as you lightened your grasp. Any mercy in the gesture was short lived as you ground your length into him, letting him really feel how his favored toy rubbed against his walls in a way that truly stole his breath.

"Seems you have a listening problem, sweetheart." You breathed as you lowered your head, your lips skimming across his in a silent promise uttered in a way he could feel as you punctuated every syllable with yet another slow grind.

How you wish you could've capture the way he shivered in delight at the promise, the first whimper of the night escaping him as you finally brushed his sweet spot, his eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy as his back arched and toes curled. "Let's see if we can fix that... " You whispered as you traced your nose along his cheek, nuzzling into his temple as your lips graced his ear.

While it might be the first lesson of the night, it certainly wouldn't be the last. If how he tilted his head and silently demanded more were any bit of an indication of how it would go, you're sure it would be at least a few hours.

I'll be starting with the fact that he prefers intimacy alone over sex and sexual contact. Intimacy, for him, is all about a connection. He's one who would rather lay curled together with his loved one on a cold winter night, holding each other close, listening to the beat of their heart. He'd much rather watch their lashes flutter as they stir awake, the sleepy smile on their face at waking up next to him isn't something he'd ever trade for the whole world.

Those tender moments where your souls are bared matter more to him than sex alone.

That being said, I know I'm going to disappoint a lot of people with this, he doesn't have a high drive. He's in his 40's, a lot of his libido is out the window. He wasn't really interested in it in the first place. After all, he's not a fan of people, he wasn't a fan of being touched, and letting someone THAT close to him is incredibly nerve wracking and scary.

Yes, he does have a lot of testosterone still and very much can get going. But he's learned how to manage with that and adrenaline, especially when he's in working mode and is usually quite stressed or always on the alert.

When he's home though, he's able to properly wind down and 'take care' of things. He isn't really huge on masturbation just because it never really did much for him. It was just a stress reliever and a way to express some pent up nervousness or energy, or a way to get a quick rush of oxytocin if he was feeling particularly depressed.

The only time he'll actively be sexual is when he's found a romantic partner who he is comfortable with. He's not doing one night stands or finding hook ups, he needs someone he knows he can trust and someone who will accept him for everything that he is.

Sexual contact and intimacy are usually intertwined when you're having your first time with him. He doesn't exactly do it often so of course, he's going to be a bit nervous. Not to mention, he's at his most vulnerable - physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The first time you do anything with him, it won't simply be having sex. It will be making love. Sweet, tender, intimate, passionate. He's going to make every second, every breath count, he's savoring it as if it were the sweetest fruit of the season. One of your hands will always be captured in his, he's not letting you go. He doesn't like letting his mouth leave any part of you for too long either.

Though he's taking you missionary (if you find that agreeable), that doesn't mean it will be boring or any less intense. He'll look into your eyes as he sputters all the words of praise and love and devotion that he knows in his native tongue, the most lovestruck expression softening every one of his features. There's no denying the love he has or how he feels as he steals your breath with his tongue yet again, pulling you even closer.

Any time after that, once the flood gates are opened, it really depends on how he and you both feel.

The only true consistency, aside from that, is he really has an oral fixation. He likes tasting you. Whether that's by French kissing or nibbling on your collar bone or going down on you and showing you just what his pretty mouth can do, he's game for it. It's part of how he shows his appreciation, and devotion. Not to mention, he's simply enamored by all of you - tasting you in a way no one else can is a privilege he'll never take for granted. Worship is always fitting when you're on your knees ;) (or more correctly, he's on his) and he's all too happy to pray

His greatest preference is for passionate lovemaking where you're simply getting lost in each other. But he's not opposed to doing other things, as long as it makes you happy. The only thing he'll usually refuse are quickies. He just doesn't feel it gives him enough time and he can't get into it, especially since it usually means he can't do aftercare right after if you're both being rushed. Not to say he won't do it at all, but he'd rather not.

Otherwise, he'll try most anything. His greatest pleasure is existing with and pleasing his partner. He's not exactly the kinkiest out there but he has plenty of non-vanilla thoughts that he'll be happy to share with you. He certainly has a thing for roleplay, primal play, and tantric sex, as well as things like outdoor sex, body worship, bondage, dry humping, and orgasm denial/edging. Anything that can heighten the experience, he's especially game for.

Just bring it up to him and he'll likely consider. As with anything, he KNOWS kink is all about consent and such things have to be discussed beforehand. He'll never spring it on you as a spur of the moment thing and he knows how to handle aftercare.

Aftercare is probably near topping the sex alone, it's amazing. He likes caring for his partner and/or being cared for. He'll do whatever you need him to. He's already got that nice, hot bath set up so you can soak as he'll hold you close and wash you off with those fancy soaps and scrubs you like so much. He's got the snacks ready, your blankets are in the dryer, he's not letting you stress for a second or go feeling any bit unloved or unappreciated. To let someone close enough to him to where he'd have sex is the ultimate intimacy and ultimate trust - he's going to damn well value it and show you just how much he cares. If you say it, he'll do it, he's already watching your every move and trying his best to predict your needs and wants.

He's on the upper end of the more 'normal' sized scale Sorry, being big doesn't mean you have a massive salami and 10 inchers HURT (also they're such a massive inconvenience and you're going to be more likely to suffer from things like ED)

He's about 5.1 inches soft, 7.1 inches hard - which does make him indeed above average by a good amount

He still has a nice girth to him and weight too. It's not the thickest or biggest dick ever but I'd describe it as being comfortably large

And like most Europeans, he's uncircumsized

And most importantly, he has a slight upwards curve too when he's hard. Extra nice for hitting all those good spots

And yes, he has a prominent vein running down the center of it that also makes for some nice aesthetic at the very least

The head is a lovely blush pink (and if you point it out and compliment him, his cheeks will redden and match)

The rest is still pale, but has a ruddier shade to it than the rest of him

I can't write anything about balls without laughing like an idiot fyi but yeah, his are realllll nice. Not that he shaves them but they always have a good weight to them and hey, matches the rest of him. Will always feel right in your hands, and they're sensitive too

Really, a lot of him is sensitive to intimacy. He isn't used to touch from others and often isn't fond of it.

Normally when he cums, he's going to be giving quite a load too

He's usually pent up too because he doesn't masturbate a lot. He's usually focused on other things or has more pressing matters to attend to (like trying to sleep or worrying about the best way to paint the stained glass of the church miniature he was working on)

His taste isn't on the worse side of things, he's got a great diet. Its usually thicker in consistency and is creamier than most. Probably one of the better ones to swallow

And we all know, he's got a nice ass. A muscular one, it's not like sheer 'cake' alone but the dude works out and is on the move, it's NICE

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Never had he expected to feel the touch of another grace his skin, much less one so warm, so tender, caressing every little plane of his twisted, chimeric form.

No, he'd told himself after spending many nights alone and avoiding his reflection in the ripples of puddles and mirrors alike with a vengeance, the love of another wasn't something monsters got.

They were cast out, left to rot, driven away with ammunition and scorn brandished in a fist. Fingertips caressing their forms, skimming across skin that no longer fit their bodies as it frayed and tore, with great reverence wasn't befitting of such beasts.

Yet you didn't heed that warning. You didn't look at the common sense signs plastered, urging you to stay away from such things. The embers of your passion singed them until they smoldered into heaps of ash, crumbling away into the wind. No amount of words or warnings alike would go heeded, not even when he argued them himself.

His words fell upon deaf ears when he pleaded for you to leave him, a twisted monster like him had no life left to give, especially not a life that he could give you.

"A life without you is hardly living at all." Fell from your lips the second he tried pushing you away once again.

Now they were written on every inch of his skin with kiss-swollen lips in a silent promise, ceaseless worship poured over him in a way that he dared not protest anymore. Not that he had the mind to, not when your lips found the delicate skin on the base of his throat.

Two of his hands dug into the pillows above while the rest scrambled for purchase on the sheets. A low, rasping keen echoed from deep within his chest, blond lashes flutter as his eyes rolled back.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, the faint whisper of a small "Pretty boy," Sent yet another shiver down his spine, his whole body wracking with a tremor as his heart fluttered.

All of his tongues tied in that moment, caught like the noises in his throat as your nose traced up the column of his throat and those lips found his jaw. Nuzzling underneath, you scarcely let him catch his breath before you were trying to push it out again with the sinful swipe of a tongue that traced up his jaw.

At that point, he wasn't responsible for the noise he made or how his fingers twisted further, nails digging into the sheets, threatening to tear them apart with how hard he grasped and trembled.

Tracing your nose up to his, you leaned in, letting your breaths mingle as your warm weight pressed him down further into the plushness of the mattress. Hot breath mingled with his as he inhaled sharply, committing to memory every feeling he thought he'd never deserved. A feeling a monster like him shouldn't-

As if reading his mind, lingering kiss followed suit on all three lips, your hips rolling down onto the insistent warmth that had been pressed against you from the moment you pinned him down. You weren't going to let him think about such things, that much was clear. Not tonight and not ever for as long as you lived.

Your fingers never ceased their movement as they slipped lower and lower, raking through the swath of light curls blanketing his abdomen. Each centimeter further your hand swept was matched with yet another kiss, another taste, another silent plead for him to take the affection you gave.