#oliver-carmichael

Oliver went over to Emory's for dinner. Emory made duck breast with peach glaze, swiss chard, spinach and almond puree, cherries, red quinoa, and crispy platain. Dessert is Olive Oil cake.

They chatted over dinner, where Emory found out more about Oliver's life in LA (and thereby validating the information that was sent to him by the private investigator), and they gained a better understanding of each other.

Upon completion of dinner and dessert, Oliver helped Emory cleared the table and they did dishes together in companionable silence

Emory showed Oliver the telescope after and they did some constellation gazing, with Emory explaining to Oliver about the various nebulae and galaxies that they could see from his telescope.

At some point, Oliver made the first move and they ended up having sex in the living room before moving into the bedroom for a second round that ended with Emory riding Oliver.

Afterwards, they showered together where they went for a third round.  

Oliver spent the night at Emory's suite, sleeping in his bed; while Emory in his typical fashion ended up sitting in the living room and working on his laptop

Emory had seen the conversation on the dashboard, and this new Dominant had somewhat roused his interest. Oliver had not revealed much about himself, but he had revealed enough to inform Emory that this man was not like most Dominants. It was worthwhile to study the subject in person while he waited for the file on Oliver to arrive from his investigator. After all, it was more fun to draw conclusion himself, rather than relying purely on research. Emory had expected from the straight forward and but polite way in which Oliver answered his posts that the man would most likely be the kind who arrive early rather than on time, and his assumption was confirmed when he found the room already occupied when he stepped inside.

Ollie looks over at Emory as he comes in and stands up slightly extending his hand offering a wry grin 'nice to finally meet you in person, and for allowing me to break you out of your solitude', if there's one thing Oliver's father taught him, it's judging someone from their handshake. Admittedly most first meetings don't happen in a bdsm room, but he's pushing that aside along with the memories starting to press in on him from some of the tools and toys scattered around the room.

Emory took Oliver's hand in a firm grip and gave it a solid shook, feeling the heat from Oliver's palm pressing into his. The man was attractive, and even though he was still fully clothed, the ripple of the muscles underneath could be easily seen even with the slightest movement. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Carmichael." Emory's lips tugged up in a small smile. The room was an unconventional place for an encounter, and this was the second time in seven days that Emory had done so. However, the Darkness had passed for the time being, and this session would be different from the one with Osbourne.

Ollie accepts the handshake with his own firm grip before pulling away and smoothly commenting 'the pleasure is all mine Mr Light, but really. Call me Oliver. Or Ollie. Whatever slides off the tongue easier for you'

Emory gave Oliver a small nod in acknowledgement. "I shall call you Oliver then." He placed his hands in his pockets. "And as you know, you can just call me Emory." There was a casualness in the way Oliver spoke, but also an underlying sense of formality. Emory gathered that this was most likely due to the fact that the man was still rather guarded. After all, Oliver knew next to nothing about Emory, and meeting in this kind of setting would be enough to make most men cautious. Emory took a walk around the room, making a half circle around Oliver while he ran his hands along the contraptions available. The purpose of this was not to explore the room, as Emory had already been here before; but rather to have Oliver's attention. Stopping at a bondage cross, Emory looked at the figure that was still standing by the bed. Sure enough, Oliver had been watching, and Emory could felt the other man's gaze on him even when he was making rounds of the space just moments ago. "So, you mentioned there are certain things that are your favorites?" Emory ran his fingers lightly over the cuffs. "Would you like to give me a demonstration?"

Ollie tilts his head and examines the other man in the room and raising his head slightly taking a step towards him 'I have many favorites. I figure try anything once and you just might be surprised...' his hand traces down the cross only to pick up a length of cord and knots it deftly, his fingers tugging on the cord 'demonstration it is...'

Emory watched as Oliver's hand moved over the smooth surface of the cross, listening to his words. The man had mentioned the cross, but he had also mentioned other things. Chances are that Oliver would most likely pick something else first, especially now that Emory had presented him the cross. "Interesting." They were now in each other's personal space, but Emory had no intention of moving. "Would you need a volunteer for this?"

Ollie smirks slightly as the two of them gravitate towards each other, their bodies almost touching and raises an eyebrow, it's almost like chicken. Seeing which one will move away first '...Would you be willing to be my volunteer?'

Emory 's lips twitched up a little in response, not quite a smile but it was enough to indicate his interest. This was the precursor to the dance, an initiation to the ritual. Tracing his fingers along the cord that Oliver was holding. Emory kept his gaze on Oliver's even as the fingers moved, until they reached the hand that was holding it. But Emory's hand didn't stop there, it continued upward, leaving light touches in its wake until it reached the juncture of the other man's neck and shoulder and snaked around so that the hand rest on Oliver's nape. Their faces were now mere inches away, but Emory's gaze remained steady. "And if I say yes?"

Ollie 's own hands shift slightly, one hand moving to Emory's back fanning out feeling the warmth muscle and skin beneath the other boys shirt, pressing gently 'then I'd be ditching the pleasantries and focus on getting to know you on an entirely different level..'

Emory let out a small laugh at the statement. "Someone who does not beat around the bush." The pressure of Oliver's hand against his back was steady and firm, its heat permeating through the thin fabric. "Go on then, Oliver." Emory brushed his lips lightly against the other man's. "Get to know me and do not hold back." And closed the distance between them.

Ollie cracks a small smile 'if I wanted to beat around any bushes. I'd go fucking a female...' at Emory's words he presses the other man closer to him kissing him fiercely. It's different to kissing Gabe he notes. But it's pleasant. There's also the element of power play involved and his other hand skims between them, sliding a hand up Emory's shirt running his fingers along his firm abdomen.

Emory received the kiss readily, letting the other male take control for the time being. Giving up physical control came naturally for Emory. After all, it was never the physical part that counted. Everything was about observation, deduction, drawing conclusions, and making the other party think that they have received what they wanted after Emory had them where he wanted them. In the case of Oliver, Emory simply wanted to study and form an veritable opinion on the man. One could tell a lot about a person by their actions. Oliver had so far struck him as one who was relatively authentic when compared with most people at the mansion, and there was something about the way he carried himself that suggested to Emory that he might not be completely aligned with the popular beliefs. Allowing his hand to travel down from Oliver's nape, Emory grabbed the fabric he found there and gave it a tug, signaling to Oliver to take it off.

Ollie 's lips move against Emory's the other boy is a good kisser, not too forceful, but not overly soft and his hands keep roaming until he feels the tug of his shirt and slides it off easily, separating their lips temporarily, before ridding Emory of his shirt casting them aside and letting his hand move further up his torso and pinching at his nipple as his lips slide back over the younger boys.

Emory gasped into Oliver's mouth when he felt the pinch, arching up slightly against the other man, reacting in the way that most people would normally do in a situation like this. Wrapping his fingers around Oliver's belt, Emory gave it a sharp yank to pull Oliver forward, allowing for the momentum to send both of them stumbling toward the cross. Not ceasing the kiss, Emory's hands found the belt buckle and undid the belt in a fluid motion, before proceeding to unbutton and unzip Oliver's jeans.

Ollie is mildly surprised when he feels his jeans being unbuttoned and moves his mouth from Emory's lips, down his jaw and neck pushing him against the cross as his hands keep moving digging into his hipbones, hard enough to leave small fingertip sized bruises on his skin and biting down on his collarbone.

Emory felt the outline of the cross digging into his back as Oliver pushed against him. The pressure from his fingers were prominent on his hips, and Emory had no doubt that they would add to the many temporary but noticeable marks that now decorated his body. There was a certain satisfaction to having them. It was a testament of having gone through an experience, a ritual that was worth of being sung. The stung of the teeth scraping against the skin on his collarbone was a much welcomed addition, and Emory tilted his head a little to give Oliver more access.

Ollie gives a rumbling chuckle against Emory's collarbone and sweeps his fingers over the nicks in the otherwise flawless skin and mumbles against his skin 'nice battlewounds there soldier.....' and keeps nipping his way up Emory's neck.

Emory pressed back a little at the touch, savoring the increase sting of the cut with the added pressure on his still healing cuts. Sebastian had done a good number on him Tuesday night. It had started hunting with on mansion grounds, leading to an interesting case of blood letting, dinner, and rounding it up with a display of knife skills. It was a Tuesday filled with blood, sex, pain and pleasure - an ideal way to celebrate his anniversary of the Darkness. "I've been told that it helps add to a man's character." As Oliver set to work on his throat, Emory wanted to push the other man a bit more, just to see what he could do. "Feel free to either add to them, or try to alleviate them."

Ollie gives an interested hum against his throat 'I'd rather not add onto someone's marks.. But don't mind if I make a few of my own....' as he speaks, his hands slip down Emory's arms and chains them firmly onto the cross and eyes the various implements around the room debating which one to pick up first though his teeth and tongue keep working on Emory's throat alternating between sharp nips and soothing the marks with his tongue.

Emory pulled a little at the restraints. It was snug around his wrists, but not unmanageable or inescapable in the event of mishaps or attempts on his life. Emory might have his "list", but he had avoided suspicion in setting his plans into motion and therefore little to no enemies who would want him dead. Nonetheless, bring the heir to Light Enterprise came with certain risks, and knowing how to get himself out of a bind was always helpful. ”The kind that enjoys marking his territory, I see.” Emory murmured, relishing the sharp nips at his skin. ”Then I await you to outdo your recent predecessors.”

Ollie raises an eyebrow before muttering out 'sounds like a challenge?' and digs his teeth into Emory's shoulder the corner of his incisor digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood and steps away running his fingers over a series of knives and daggers, debating which one to use. His fingers itch slightly at the though of marking him, it's been far too long since he's been with someone like this. LA was entirely too vanilla for him, as was going straight. And before that? He'd rather not think of it, before he can delve too deeply into his own head, he snaps back to reality and selects a small but sleek dagger and steps back to Emory, resting one hand on his hip and tracing the knife down the curve of the other man's throat his eyes not leaving Emory's.

Emory exhaled softly at the bite. That one definitely hurt, but if that was what Oliver had in mind, then Emory had no doubt that this encounter would be extremely worthwhile. Emory's eyes followed Oliver's movement as the other man examined the knives. From the way Oliver's hand touched the blades, with its barely noticeable tremor and the way the man's muscles tensed when the fingers glossed over some of the options, to his initial reaction to Emory's challenge, all indicated to Emory that it had been a while since Oliver had done what he was about to do and that knives were very likely his specialty. The theory that Emory came up with also implied that certain events have taken place to force the other man into a different behavior and lifestyle. Filing away the deduction, Emory made a mental note to cross reference with the file once he received it from his private investigator. Oliver's hand was very warm, almost hot, against Emory, a direct contrast with the cold tip of the blade that was now sliding precariously over the his skin. "Give me your best, Oliver." Emory turned his head slightly to expose more of his neck, his gaze didn't leave Oliver's as he did so. "But no scars."

Ollie 's lips twitch into a smirk before murmuring 'as you command....' and letting his lips brush against Emory's and bringing the knife in a downwards motion, leaving a slice in it's wake, but not enough to bleed and flicks the knife back up leaving an almost wave pattern on Emory's hip-bone, it's exhilarating. The knife in his hand, the feeling of smooth skin and muscle underneath his hand, the low toned voice of the other boy compared to the soft curves, high pitched giggles, and vanilla sex with Ana. His other trails up Emory's body raking his short nails on the exposed skin of Emory's throat, gripping gently and kissing him as the knife keeps dancing across his abdomen.

Emory returned an almost smile to Oliver at his response. The kiss was light, gentle, and barely there, but the initial slice came swiftly, the glide of blade against skin a sharp but welcomed contrast to the caress of the lips. The man had skills indeed, as it would normally require a great degree of finesse and a steady hand to achieve the right balance of sensation without breaking surface. The upward movement was slow and deliberate, meant to arouse and tease, and Emory slid his lips against Oliver's languidly even as he felt the pattern being drawn across his skin, reveling in the slight sear if the burn that came exquisitely with the opening of the flesh. The drag of the nails was a good addition, almost providing a additional layer in the fine line that stood between pleasure and pain. ”Are you always this good at following commands?” With the tip of the now warm edge against the muscles of his abdomen, Emory found himself in a state of ready anticipation. ”Or are you just naturally gifted, Mr. Carmichael?”

Ollie brings the knife up Emory's abdomen, like he's tracing along his taut muscles, the tip of the knife digging into the soft skin and murmuring against his lips 'what can I say Mr Light? I aim to please?' and his fingers tighten a little around Emory's neck, the taste of the other boy is intoxicating, something uniquely masculine and his lips press firmly against Emory's, nipping gently at his bottom lip.

Emory strained against his bindings, feeling the cuffs cutting into his skin. He pulled some more, enjoying the friction and the sting of the scrape even as he pushed back against Oliver, savoring the increased pressure around his throat. The knife was placed precariously against his abdomen, the tip not quite cutting in, but the force behind it could be felt concentrated on one focal point. It was the fine balance between the actual drawing of the blood and the taunting touch of a graze that made the idea of knives thrilling. Emory returned the kiss, his tongue swiping at Oliver's lips even as he felt the tug. "In that case, by all means ..." Emory spoke against Oliver's mouth when they finally parted for air. "Please me some more."

Ollie murmurs against Emory's lips 'of course.....' and switches the blade to his other hand the one close to his neck, still keeping a grip on it, but the hand previously occupied by the knife skims down his abdomen, and coming to rest on the top judging the level of arousal and what to do next.

Emory shifted slightly, allowing for the now warmed-up metal to pressed against him. The blade was at a precarious position, Emory took a few moments to assess his position and when he was certain that there would be a way to break free should there be an attempt made on his life, he turned his attention back to Oliver again. The pressure on his member was firm but not uncomfortable, but Emory made no move to acknowledge its presence. It was always more fun to wait for the other to make the next move.

Ollie gives an interested hum at Emory's actions and gives him a gentle squeeze, starting to kiss down the other boy's body his tongue flicking at the marks he's made, though his hand holding the knife remains steady and rests against Emory's collarbone.

Emory pushed against Oliver's hand slightly, not because he was impatient, but because he wanted to see what else the other man would do. Oliver was quiet, and while he was calm and methodical in the way he approach things. there was none of the coldness or anger that Emory had seen on others. If anything, the other man was attentive, and there was gentleness in spite of the cuts he had made. The flick of the tongue against open wounds gave an interesting burning sensation, but it was still mild for Emory's taste. "While I appreciate your care," Emory teased lightly. "There is really little need to hold back on my behalf, Oliver."

Ollie cracks a small smile in return and comments easily 'just testing the waters Emory..' though with a sleek motion he drops the knife into his hand skimming it around Emory's sides creating the same wave pattern along one side of him, and removing the hand from the other boys member, and instead taking it around to his ass giving a firm squeeze digging his short nails in.

Emory didn't flinch as Oliver's knife made the next cut. It was often said that the sides were sometimes more sensitive because they were rarely touched. While this might be true for most people, it was the same for Emory. Years of intensive training had rendered it possible for him to withstand the pain, and each time his body experienced the stimuli, the threshold was reinforced. "Now that is what I am talking about." Emory breathed out. "We're definitely heading in the right direction."

Ollie keeps the knife between his teeth as he works Emory's pants and underwear down his legs with one hand, other hand still kneading at his ass feeling the tight muscles with satisfaction. Within seconds the other boys pants are around his ankles and Oliver lets, the knife drop back into his hand as his lips wrap around the tip of the other boys cock, letting his teeth graze the head while the still warm blade of the knife rests against the smooth skin of Emory's thighs.

Emory watched impassively as Oliver set to work on removing the rest of his clothing. He was not uninterested, the idea of sex itself was something clinical for Emory; it was something that he could live without but could become useful when he needed the pain to fill the void left behind by the temporary cessation of revenge. Oliver's mouth was hot and wet, and the scratch of the teeth should make most people hiss, but for Emory it was tantalizing and refreshing change of pace. The knife was against his thigh, but there was little pressure exerted there. Emory shifted his hips slightly, both in pretense of the enjoyment of the act, as well as to feel more of the sharpness that rest so teasingly against the flesh.

Ollie focuses his mouth and bobs his head slightly his tongue swirling around Emory's shaft alternating each change of direction with a small nick of the knife splattering his thighs in a series of small patterns, and giving a small hum of satisfaction going into his own head wondering how he managed to last so long trying to convince himself he could go straight.

Emory took in every sensation, analyzing the contrast between pleasure and pain. A human being's ability to experience physical sensation is a fascinating matter. While most people tend to give much credit and focus on the importance of emotions, most of the times it was really the more primal senses that could make the difference when it came to survival. He rocked his hips slightly, feeling Oliver's tongue teasing him while letting the knife do its work. There would be some degree of blood and marks later, but that was part of the point. Temporary marks were the best. It was instant gratification of pain without the permanent reminder.

Ollie gives a hum against Emory's cock before pulling away with a barely audible 'pop' and moves the hand that has been roughly groping the other boys ass around to give him a firm grasp on his shaft and mutters huskily 'exactly just how far do you want to take this?' and he eyes off the containers of lube scattered around the room and eventually looks past them, his eyes falling on a vibrating cock-ring.

Emory stilled when Oliver pulled off. The man was skilled, and he was also a tease. Most people in Emory's situation would probably be frustrated by now but Emory was finding this encounter rather entertaining. From the way on which Oliver had eyed the devices and contraptions in the BDSM Room this entire time and the enthusiastic way the man had approached the knives, it was not hard to conclude that the other Dominant must have spent some time depriving himself of his vices. ”I am flexible and low-maintenance in general.” While the number of sexual partners he had to date was rather few, it was the time he had spent with Lucas that had taught Emory enough for him to know his likes and dislikes when it came to toys. ”I will most certainly inform you if it is something not to my taste.”

Ollie heads across the room picking up a bottle of lube and a vibrating cock ring and gives a chuckle at Emory's formal phrasing of being 'flexible and low-maintenance' and makes his way back to him slowly examining him from top to bottom. This encounter is different somehow, and he can't put his finger on exactly what is is. and he holds up the ring with a raised eyebrow as if to say 'so?'

Emory 's gaze locked on Oliver's as the latter studied him. Emory used the word studied because that was exactly what it was. In spite of the primal nature of what they were doing, the way Oliver was looking at him at the moment was one of examination and assessment, as though to process the situation. Emory had no doubt that others might have done the same, but Oliver was certainly one of the few to actually take a momentary step back to do so. "Interesting choice." Emory's lips turned up in a half smirk upon seeing the object that Oliver had in his hand. "Kinky but acceptable."

Ollie raises an eyebrow before sliding his hand down Emory's cock and deftly snapping the ring into place and giving the base of his cock a firm squeeze allowing the ring to cut in before letting his lips brush the other boys and moves to loosen the bonds attaching him to the cross.

Emory: The surface of the ring was cold, but it warmed quickly to the body temperature, its snugness not painful but enough to be felt. Emory watched with some slight curiosity as the other man proceeded to loosen the bonds. He did not mind being constrained by the cross, although the fact that Oliver seemed to have something else in mind interested him greatly. "Not going to tie me down after all?" The tone was light, with the intent to tease. "Are you not concerned that I may overpower you and pin you down instead?"

Ollie cracks a grin 'if I thought you were planning on overpowering me, I would have tightened them... But I do feel like something else...' and with a quick flick of his fingers, he loosens the bonds completely and picks up the knife giving a slight hum 'I just realized one thing about crosses is that they make it awfully difficult to decorate your back....'

Emory gave Oliver a slight smile at that, even if it was one that did not quite reach the eyes. "Should have known you are the thorough kind." Emory did not mind, in spite of the fact that turning his back often presented more risks, he knew how to keep himself from becoming vulnerable. "Either that, or you just really enjoy leaving a reminder." Emory remained where he was, waiting for Oliver to make the next move. If the man was planning on decorating his back, he would have to work for it. "Which one are you?"

Ollie raises an eyebrow as he moves Emory forward pressing against his back, one hand coming up to grip his hair tightly and in order to move his head to the side, his teeth raking against his pulse point and murmurs in a low tone 'why can't I be both?'

"Being both is a rather ambitious goal, don't you think?" The question was not meant to taunt, but rather to tease. The pull on his hair was tight, and some might even considered it bordering on painful, but Emory savored the slight pinprick sting in his scalp while taking in the way the teeth scraped against his neck, waiting for them to clamp down, to bruise, and to mark. "But I enjoy being proven wrong, so prove away, Mr. Carmichael."

Ollie teases back "But highly achievable when done correctly. And well worth the pay off Mr Light." If anything he's noticed that the other seems to enjoy pain and just shrugs it off assuming the other boy is a masochist and bites down hard, scraping his teeth along the other boy's shoulder before starting to nip roughly along his shoulders leaving a splattering of small red marks.

Emory let out his breath evenly even as the teeth made their mark. If one was to feel Emory's heartbeat then, one would have found it slow, even, and steady. "Perhaps this is the time to inform you that I do have a rather high expectation." Emory quipped, speaking matter of factly even as Oliver proceeded with the decorating. "Therefore, I will be expecting the payoff to be memorably spectacular."

Ollie gives a hum against Emory's neck as his teeth scrape down his neck, matched with the knife flickering it's way up Emory's side, and he gives the other boy's early earlobe a sharp nip matching the bite of the knife as it leaves a superficial mark before commenting easily 'I gathered that...'

Emory remained still, the bites and nips teasingly pleasing without being a nuisance. The white heat generated from the cut of the blade was a contrast to the cool air in the room, wetness made itself known as slight bit of blood pooled at the cut but not quite enough to trickle. "If real time feedback is of any help at all." Emory's voice was soft but steady as he continued. "You are certainly on the right track."

Ollie focuses on tracing circles on Emory's hip with the knife as his other hand slips down to circle his entrance with a teasing finger, ready to prep him and teases in a hushed tone 'do I get a live-stream commentary while I'm at it then?'

Emory chuckled at the remark. For all his talent at knife works and the intensity that came with his presence, Oliver did have a sense of humor. It was a refreshing change from many Dominants that Emory had crossed path with at the mansion. The feel of the finger against his entrance was slight, but most definitely tangible. "It depends." The answer was cryptic, and intendedly so. "As I've been known to be rather quiet when it comes to the main event."

Ollie presses a little harder, trailing his finger slightly debating internally if to breech him dry or to reach over and grab the lube. 'well then I won't be asking you to scream will I?'

Emory was getting used to the knife's edge, so the change in pressure was rather welcoming. Oliver's words could be interpreted as a challenge, though the thoughtful tone behind it clearly indicated that he was not the kind to enjoy hurting others for his own pleasure. "You can try." It would be interesting to see which direction Oliver take with this. "But I make no promises."

Ollie drops the knife onto the bed and picks up the lube instead, putting some onto his fingers and probing gently, sliding a single digit into Emory, working on loosening him up ready for the intrusion to come and murmurs 'then to avoid disappointment. Neither will I'

Emory found himself wondering dimly about the amount of clean-up the staffs would probably have to do after they were done with the room, as in spite of the shallow cuts being made on his body, there would no doubt be stains on the bed. The cuts on his back stung a little from rubbing against the mattress, but that was to be expected; it was a pleasant pain that would serve as a good contrast to the carnal pleasure that was to follow. Oliver was gentle in his ministrations, thoughtful in a way that Emory hadn't experienced in a good while. Most people would have found the gesture touching even, but Emory just propped himself up on his elbows as he watched the other man, closing his eyes when he felt the first finger.

Ollie shifts slightly and wiggles his finger around stretching him out and making him relax underneath him before inserting another finger, scissoring him out, forcing his fingers deeper into the other boy.

Emory 's breathing was even as more fingers were added. Emory opened his eyes again and parted his legs a bit more, allowing Oliver better access to what he needed to do, his gaze locked on the man as he studied Oliver and tried to decipher what might be going through the man's head. Most people who were in a state of lust, especially in this kind of setting, would not take so much care toward someone they barely knew. The fact that this was an encounter between two Dominants, where power play was always a catalyst for something potentially harmful only made their current interaction all more the unusual. Emory made a note to look into Oliver's file once his investigator sent it to him, for this man could be a good candidate for a potential ally or an acquaintance to keep.

Ollie looks up from where he's focused on Emory catching his eye, the other man seems to study him almost and he gazes back at him spreading both fingers inside him, using the pad of his thumb to run around his rim, and leans forward to kiss him, his other hand pressing on Emory's side feeling the dampness of blood under his palm

Emory could still feel Oliver working him open, but it was what the man was doing with his other hand that Emory was more attuned to. Emory's lips parted slightly at the sensation of the warm hand sliding up his side, counting ribs as it smeared some of the crimson along his skin. He accepted the kiss readily, finding it somewhat fascinating that Oliver was almost kissing him as though Emory was a lover of his. One hand reached up and tangled the fingers into the soft locks while Emory's other hand cupped the nape of Oliver's neck to bring him closer. It was a rather interesting change of pace, but it was not unpleasant.

Ollie keeps wiggling his fingers, widening Emory up further and inserting a third finger, probing around gently as he deepens the kiss, spurred on by the fingers in his hair and on his neck.

Emory couldn't help but find this encounter both ironic and fascinating. From an outsider's perspective, one would think what they were doing was almost loving, except Emory knew better. The vibration around his cock was meant to work in tangent with the teasing fingers, to bring Emory to the edge and keep him there. There was an element of control even within the seeming tenderness, and the reasoning behind this man's action was what interested Emory the most. The deepened kiss was a good touch and probably would have worked for most people, and Emory decided to play along with it.

Ollie keeps toying with Emory for a bit longer and slides one hand down his leg hitching it up around his waist, removing his fingers and pressing his tip at Emory's entrance before sliding inside slowly allowing him to get used to the feeling, though a shaky moan leaves his mouth at the feeling of the other boy around him, and his hips give an involuntary jerk.

Emory lifted up his other leg and wrapped it around Oliver's waist as well, hooking his ankles together and pulling the taller man closer. The gentleness Oliver displayed was a marked contrast to the trysts Emory had experienced at the mansion so far. If this was how this man operate normally, then it would make him a rather vulnerable target for the desperate submissives residing in this building. Nonetheless, Emory was inclined to think that Oliver's behavior at the moment was a fluke, as the man had been clearly distracted by something the entire time they were together this afternoon. Running his fingers through Oliver's hair, Emory placed his other hand on Oliver's shoulder before clenching down hard around him.

Ollie 's head falls back at the feeling of Emory clenching around him, groaning softly so it's barely audible and starts thrusting, slower at first but gaining momentum, angling slightly in order to get deeper inside him as his hand rest on Emory's back, pulling him closer.

Emory allowed himself to focus in the sensation around him. The gentle gesture of the act seemed foreign, but he relished it nonetheless, using Oliver's body language and reaction as more clues to help Emory determine what kind if man he might be. The ring around the base of his cock.was doing its job to restrict blood flow and to tease, but Emory knew all it would take was a few moments of concentration and Emory would be able to will be able to will his own body to cease responding. However, that was not Emory's intent for this encounter. He had planned on playing his part, which meant reacting as expected. ”I will not break, Oliver.”

Ollie raises an eyebrow at his statement before nipping harshly down his neck as he drives into Emory, harder and faster. Maybe he's gone into his head, like back in LA where the only sex was vanilla and if he went fast he'd hear Ana's voice in his head, but it's not LA, it's Bellona and he works on racing towards his own release as well as Emory's.

Emory 's lips parted slightly at the bite. Oliver had bitten him harder this time, and because of it the ache was also much more pronounced in the most welcoming way. Emory lifted his hips as he tried to meet Oliver's thrusts, feeling the bed shook under the force of their coupling. It definitely hurt a lot more now, with the increased friction and roughness, each push sending a jolt up Emory's spine. He clenched down periodically, using the tightness and added burn to increase the sensation as he was split open and taken, allowing himself to slowly detach once more.

Ollie moves his hips rapidly, feeling himself sinking deeper and deeper into the other boy as his hands grip onto Emory's hips, hard enough to bruise, though one hand slides across his abdomen to flick at the cock ring and slides it off him.

Emory took in the roughness, his body feeling every bit of the pain as the walls clenched down around the hardness that was inside of him. The hands that gripped him were firm, hard, and almost possessive in the most surreal way. Emory did not dwell on it too much because shortly after, the ring that was constricting him was gone and he focused instead on the sensation of having blood re-circulate the way it was meant to. He pulled Oliver down toward him and gave him a kiss, a harder one, something that would conveyed the urgency and passion of what they were doing, even though Emory had already distanced himself from all this and did not feel the same way. He allowed the tension to build, his hips pushing back against Oliver's so that each thrust brushed against that spot inside of his body, until that one thrust finally pushed him over the edge and he came, shuddering against the other man.

Ollie tenses against Emory as he feels the other man's orgasm rip through him, his own hips increasing in rhythm, until his own orgasm breaks and his head drops briefly onto Emory's shoulder coming down of his high, before slowly withdrawing out of the bed, examining the mess of blood on the bed and the sticky layer of blood and sweat covering both of them.

Emory remained where he was after Oliver had pulled out of him. He watched the man as the latter surveyed the mess of blood and come. For an outsider, it would look as though there was a lot of blood, but the cuts had been shallow, and the blood loss had been minimal. Sitting up slowly, Emory got off the bed and walked toward the sink, where the first aid kit and cleaning supplies were stocked. "You are under no obligations to provide after care." Emory's tone was casual and conversational as he washed his hands and opened up one of the kits. "You can leave if you wish, unless dinner with me is on the agenda."

Ollie shakes his head slightly washing his own hands and picks up one of the kits, rifling through it 'I prefer to administer the after-care, not that I doubt you'd do a good job yourself, but it's the least I could do, dinner sounds nice though. Where did you want to go?'

Emory tilted his head slightly at Oliver's words. "How gentlemanly of you, Mr. Carmichael." After care was not something he was concerned with, as Emory had planned on showering afterwards. "If you insist on taking care of me, who am I to object?" The man's response meant an opportunity to learn more about him, and Emory was not one to pass up a chance for more observation. "Unfortunately, I have yet to make Level 4, which means we can only have dinner at the cafeteria tonight." He gave Oliver a small smile. "But I can promise you that once I have my own kitchenette, I will invite you over for a more private dinner."

Ollie offers a slight smile pulling up some of the alcohol swabs before sitting Emory down and cleaning off the blood and applying a thin layer of antiseptic to the shallow wounds, before stepping back and disposing of what he's used and washing the traces of blood and antiseptic off his hands before commenting neutrally 'I eagerly await your invitation then Mr Light....'

Emory proceeded to get dressed while the other man cleaned up. He waited until Oliver was also ready before approaching the door. He gave the room one last look, wondering idly about the length of time it would take the staffs at the mansion to clean up the place before holding his hand out to Oliver. "Shall we then, Mr. Carmichael?"