april
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,249
- Points
- 63
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Merrit
The day began in that soft, endless twilight that was uniquely Merrits realm; no sun, no moon, only the silvery glow that made every surface gleam faintly and every shadow seemed deeper. You woke wrapped in black velvet sheets that held the faint smell of his skin; warm, clean, with the darker thread of cedar and smoke that clung to him like a signature.
He was already awake, sitting against the headboard, one knee drawn up, watching you with his usual unreadable expression. His black hair was a little mussed, falling in lose waves around his face and the pale blue-black of his eyes was heavy in the dim light.
"Morning, love." He murmured, voice low and even, but with a weight that seemed to settle in your chest. His hand reached out, fingers brushing over yiur cheek with almost no pressure, like he was just clearing an invisible thread from your skin. He bent, kissed your lips slowly. Not deep. Not demanding. But long enough for you to taste the warmth of his breath before he pulled away.
You though he might leave you to dress alone. He didn't. From that moment, Merrit became an unshakable presence. Not looming. Not hovering. Just there.
When you stepped out of bed, he moved aside, but his fingertips grazed the inside of your forearm as you passed, lingering a fraction too long before slipping away. In the wardrobe room, he leaned lazily against the frame, eyes fixed on you as you chose your dress. As you turned, his knuckles skimmed your hip. Not enough to startle, but to make you acutely aware of how close his hand had been to the inside of your thigh.
Over breakfast at his low, dark wood table, he sat beside you instead of across. He didn't reach for food much, just let his arm stretch along the back of your chair so that his fingertips occasionally brushed your shoulder. Sometimes they slid down, only by an inch or two, to trace the curve where your neck met your collarbone. Every time, it was light enough to be dismissable. Every time, you swallowed harder than you meant to.
In the library, you climbed a ladder to reach a high shelf. You felt him before you heard him; the heat of his body at your back, one hand steadying your waist as you leaned forward. He said nothing, simply took the book from you when you desended. His fingers didn't leave the spine until they brushed yours.
It went on for hours.
In the frost-dusted rose gardens, he stood behind you so close that his sleeve brushed your arm whenever he shifted. In the long, vaulted corridors, his hand would ghost the small of your back as you walked, sometimes pressing just enough to guide you around the corner. When you stopped to admire a piece of shadowy statuary, he stepped behind you, his breath close to your ear as he made a quiet observation, and then his palm slid briefly over your hip before he walked away again, as though the touch had meant nothing.
By mid-afternoon, your skin felt hypersensitive, humming where his hands had been. You could feel the tension like static under your ribs. It wasn't that he'd done anything overt. He hadn't tried to tickle you, hadn't even openly teased. But the unbroken chain of small, lingering contacts was unraveling you one thread at a time.
When you curled up in a chair with a book that evening, you realize you'd read the same page three times without absorbing a word. Merrit was seated across the room, in a spill of silver light, his head bowed as he examined something in his hands. But you knew he was aware; his stillness felt purposful, like a hunter at rest.
By the time you retreated to his bed chamber, the air between you was dense with something unspoken. The black silk of your nightgown whispered against your legs as you sat on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting idly in your lap.
Merrit appeared on the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, arms folded. His gaze was heavy on you, not cold, not exactly warm...just consuming.
"You've been quiet today." He said atlast, his tone deep, almost conversational, but edged with intent.
You tried to sound even. "You've been following me."
His smirk was slow, faint, dangerous. "Observing, waiting."
"For what?"
That was when he moved.
Two strides brought him to you, his presence filling the space. He stopped just close enough that his knees brushed yours. His hands came up to rest on either side of your thighs, fingers flexing once against the silk before sliding upward in unhurried paths along your hips. The pads of his thumbs grazed your ribs, a whisper of a touch, not yet tickling, and you felt your breath hitch.
He bent his head so his hair fell forward, brushing your temple. "For this."
The first real touch was devastating in its restraint; fingertips gliding beneath yiur ribs, tracing the edges as though mapping the shape of your breath. His hands stayed there longer than necessary, the slow drag of skin on skin making your stomach tighten.
"All day," he said, voice almost a rumble in your ear. "I've been wondering how long it would take before you broke."
You laughed. Breathless, reflexive, when his fingers shifted lower, brushing the curve of your waist with light, testing strokes. He didn't push you yet, just let the anticipation settle until it almost hurt.
"I've been patient, love," he said, each word curling into a promise. "but now im going to let you feel everything I've been holding back."
He whispered a spell, and the tether locked into place. It was sudden, like a ribbon snapping taut between your bodies. But instead of pulling you physically, it pulled you through. Your breath caught, your chest tightening as heat rolled into you that wasn't your own.
It was him. His want.
Not frantic.
Controlled.
Dark, slow-burning. The kind of lust that doesnt rush because it knows it will have what it wants.
Your heart tripped hard against your ribs as your body responded before your mind could catch up. Your thighs pressing together, your fingers curling into his shirt.
"Merrit..." It came out more like a plea than you meant.
The brush of his fingers over your ribs was light, exploratory, circling lazily under the fabric of your nightgown. It was ticklish enough to make your breath hitch. And the tether fed the sound of it straight to him. The rush of pleasure that spiked in him slammed back into you, making your stomach clench and your lips part on a startled moan.
He chuckled under his breath. "There...feel that?" His voice was warm, indulgent, as though this was all unfolding exactly as he'd planned. "Every little gasp, every twitch, it runs right through me, love. And I'm going to savor them all."
His hands shifted, thumbs pressing lightly at your sides while his fingers curled inward, kneading gently into the sensitive flesh there. You laughed helplessly, twisting, but every shake of your body sharpened the heat between you. You could feel how much he liked it, the slow pulse of his arousal, slipping through the magical link and sinking low into you until your knees trembled.
You clawed at his shirt, pulling him closer even as you tried pushing him away. "Merrit..." You broke off in a breathless laugh when his fingers slid higher, tracing up your ribs one by one in a maddening, unhurried climb.
He stopped just below your underarms, letting his fingers hover there. "Sensitive here," he murmured, his breath brushing your ear. '"aren't you, little one?"
Before you could answer, he pressed in. Not harsh, but with a slow, insistent pressure that made you collapse against him. The tether flared with a spike of lust in him at the sound of your laughter breaking into a moan, and you felt it melt into you until you could hardly separate the sensation.
You twisted, trying to turn away, but he followed easily, his hands sliding down your hips. His thumbs dug in just enough to make you squirm.
"Oh, you're lovely like this," he said softly. "Laughing...writhing...trying to get away even though you're pressing yourself into me."
His right hand left your hip to trail up your side again, fingers drumming lightly. Each tap deliberate, designed to make you twitch. When he reached your underarm a second time, he didn't rush; he teased there in small, circular motions, just enough to keep you gasping and wriggling.
The tether made every motion a loop; your laughter turning into his pleasure, his pleasure turning into your ache. Your thighs squeezed together involuntary, your hips shifting restlessly under his weight.
"Merrit, please." Your voice cracked between a laughter and a moan.
His smirk deepened, and you felt the slow swell of satisfaction in him hearing you beg. "Not yet, love. Im going to take my time."
He slid his hands back down, tickling the outer edges of your thighs in light, fluttering strokes before shifting inwards. The moment his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you gasped and he exhaled sharply; the link between you humming with the force of his reaction.
You pushed at his chest, turned your face away, tried to curl your legs in, but it was useless. Every movement only pushed that deep heat between you tighter until you could feel his composure pressing like a weight in your chest.
His fingers spidered across your lower stomach in delicate, taunting sweeps with the slow precision of someone who was going to drag this out. He stroked and traced the same path over and over until your laughter came in helpless bursts, punctured by moans you couldn't hold back.
"You're shaking," he murmured, his hands never stopping. "Do you feel how much I want you like this? Its in every touch, every breath. And you're not going to escape it until I decide youve had enough."
Your head tipped back against the velvet sheets, breath tearing out of you in uneven bursts, laughter tangled with moans, your thighs trembling from the slow, deliberate torment of his hands. The link between you throbbing like a live current, feeding his steady lust into you with every touch.
And then Merrits voice dropped void-dark, curling around the edge of your fraying composure.
"You know..." His thumb pressed into your hip as his other hand traced lazily along your ribs. "...I've been only giving you half of it."
You blinked up at him through strands of hair sticking to your damp cheeks. "H-half?"
His smirk deepened again. "Half the lust. Half the need. I wanted to see how long you could last on just that." His fingertips swept higher, slipping back into the tender hollows under your arm and pressing until you broke into ragged laughter. "But you've done so well, love...perhaps you deserve the rest."
Before you could answer, you felt it; pulling tighter, opening, and then the rest of him slammed into you like molten heat poured straight into your core. It wasnt a wave. It was an ocean.
"Merrit!" Your back arched violently, your breath catching in a moan that tumbled into breathless laughter as his fingers dug harder under your arm. "God's...oh god's...I feel you!"
"Yes," he murmured, almost purring the word. "Feel it all."
"No...nonononono!" You gasped, writhing under him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. "God's Merrit...you're so turned on, how can you stand it?!"
He didn't falter, didn't rush, didn't even look winded. "Practice." He said simply, voice low and edged like a blade. "And the knowledge that you can't. "
The tether was merciless now. Every helpless buck of your hips, every high broken laugh, every needy moan fed straight into him, and the reaction in him came roaring back into you. It doubled, trippled, until your body couldn't tell where his need ended and yours began.
Your face burned, mouth fully open between cries. "Merrit, please! Please...!" The words dissolved into laughter when he spidered both hands across your stomach and down your thighs before retreating just enough to make you chase the touch. He didn't even need to hold you down or restrain your hands. Every time you felt the feedback of his desire, your hands instinctively pulled back or desperately tried pulling him closer.
"You're begging so sweetly." He whispered, eyes locked on your face like he was memorizing every twitch, every shiver. "But I think I like the sound of you falling apart more."
"Please..." your voice cracked as you laughed again, hips twisting under his weight. "Please, I need...I can't!"
"I know you cant. But you will." His tone was firm but quiet, almost soothing if not for the relentless pace of his fingers digging at the curve of your waist and the inside of your thighs.
You choked on a moan, your head tipping back as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips trembled, catching between yiur teeth in a weak attempt to stop the sounds spilling out. But the tether made it impossible to hide. Every flicker of sensation, every clench of your body was laid bare to him, and every spike of molten lust of his rolled back into you until you thought your spine might snap from the tension.
"Tell me again," he coaxed, leaning down until his mouth brushed your ear. "Tell me how I feel."
Your voice was wrecked, but you gave it to him anyway. "You're...burning. God's, you're...Merrit, you need to cum just as badly as I do. How can you s-stand it?"
His laugh was low and utterly calm, his mouth ghosting over your jaw as his fingers swept mercilessly under the backs of your knees, forcing a shriek of laughter out of you. "Control, darling. Something I deeply possess. Something out of your reach entirely. And once I do arrive, it will be exquisite...and you'll feel every last drop of my release." He licked the shell of your ear, his breath hot and steady. "But only when Im ready to."
You moaned so hard it almost broke into a sob, your hips arching toward him in pure, aching reflex. "Please...please...I can't! Please let me."
"Not yet." The words were a growl, though his expression stayed maddeningly composed; dimples showing faintly, eyes burning but steady. His hands moved over the tops of your thighs before flicking at the backs of your knees again in quick, excruciating bursts that had you gasping and laughing and writhing all at once.
The tether was a living thing now; pulling, pushing, coiling around every nerve. Merrit poured into you in full, that deep, controlled heat that never ebbed, never faltered, only pressed harder the more you laughed, begged, the more you tried to get away. It was unbearable, not because it hurt, but because it felt like you were being filled with something you could neither release nor resist.
Your voice broke on his name countless times, your hands fisting into the black silk of his shirt. Your legs tried to curl in, to find some escape from the endless, taunting, tickling along your ribs, but he shifted instantly, straddling you and pinning your thighs between his knees.
"Stay still," he said, calm as ever, but his hands never stopped moving, pushing between the mattress and your legs; roaming behind your thighs to squeeze just where they met the crease of your ass, another calculated move to pull helpless yelps and shrieks from your lips.
You moaned through your laughter, head tossing back against the pillows.
Your fingers slid downward on instinct, desperate to relieve the pressure, but his hand intercepted yours with infuriating gentleness. He didn't grip. He simply pressed your wrist against the sheets as if it were effortless.
"No." He said softly, almost kindly, but the denial was absolute.
You made a sound you didn't recognize; half whimper, half plea, and you shook your head.
"I can't stand it Merrit. Please! You need to cum. You need it so badly, I can't stand it, its too much!"
Your thighs shifted beneath his, your breath coming in shallow bursts. "Let me, please," you begged again. "I need it...oh. fuck. I need it! Ill do anything. Anything you want, just..."
His eyes roamed your face; every flicker of desperation, the way your bottom lip trembled, the slight glaze in your gaze as his need took over yours. He leaned in, so close his breath feathered over your mouth and you thought for a moment he might give in.
Instead, he smiled. Both dimples. Cruel and beautiful. "You'll have it, Petal." He murmured. "But not until I've made you beg so sweetly I can taste it in your voice."
The tether throbbed again, flooding you with another wave of his white-hot need and your gasp broke into a shudder. Your body arched involuntary, searching for friction that wasnt there, the ache so sharp it was almost pain.
"Please, I need it! I can't wait a second longer, I need you now!"
He hummed low in his throat, the sound dark and amused. "I know you need it, little one. That's the point."
He shifted, pinning your wrists with one hand, as the other found his favorite playground once again, his fingers stroking under your arm with exquisite slowness. The sensitivity there was unbearable under normal circumstances, but with the link burning you alive, it was devastating.
You're laughter spilled over, wild and desperate, tangled with gasps and whimpers. You kicked, thrashed, but his hold was immovable.
And then...
His mouth replaced his hand.
The first hot stroke of his tongue against your underarm made you jolt so hard the tether spiked again, flooding you with another wave of his need. You cried out, part shock, part molten pleasure, part ticklish agony.
He licked deliberately, slow and thorough, tasting you like he was committing your skin to memory. The rasp of his tongue shifted to the soft pull of his lips, sucking lightly before letting them part with a wet, sinful sound that made your toes curl.
The mix of sensations was insufferable. Your body didn't know whether to laugh or moan, to fight or surrender and the confusion on your face only fed Merrits lust.
"Ill be good...please, I'll do anything..." Your voice cracked, eyes bright and wet, lips parted in desperate need. You were begging without shame now, every syllable thick with anguish.
Your begging only deepens his focus. He nibbled lightly, teeth grazing the sensitive skin until you gasped, then soothed the spot with a slow swirling of his tongue. Every lick, every warm exhale sent another shock from him, through you and you felt the answering pulse of his arousal dropped into you like a second heartbeat.
He switched to the other side, worshipping you there with the same exacting torment, licking upward in slow, languid strokes, biting just hard enough to make you squeal, then lapping at the spot as if savoring a rare delicacy. Your laughter pitched high, entangled with helpless, needy moans, your body twisting in his hold.
You were sobbing now, shaking, your face flushed and eyes glassy with the force of it all.
"Please, please let me cum, Merrit, I'm begging you! I need it, I'm going to lose my mind!"
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his mouth glistening, his gaze now smoldering with his own need. You saw it. You felt it. The fracture in his composure was undeniable. The plea slipped from his lips, so gentle and with a yearning that caused you to groan.
"Please...Petal. Just a little longer. Do it for me. I want you right here, laughing, begging, falling apart. Just a little longer."
He didn't wait for you to answer. Begging wasn't in his nature; Merrit took without asking and despite his sweet beeseechment, this was no different.
Then he's bent again, his tongue sliding into your hollow, sucking deep as the tether blazed uncontrollably and your scream was pure, unrestrained desperation. The sight of him above you was unraveling you; black hair falling in perfect dissaray over his forehead, his mouth wet from his slow, wicked worship. His beauty was almost unbearable at this distance.
You didn't even hear the sound of the zipper or register the subtle tug and shift before you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. For one suspended heartbeat, he just looked at you, dimples ghosting into view, lips curved in a knowing smile, before he pushed in.
The first inch made him groan low in his chest, a sound so raw you felt it vibrate through you. His eyes half-lidded, the lashes casting shadows over the sharp cut of his cheekbones, his lips parted as he sank deeper.
"God's, Petal..." His voice rough and ragged. "You're so warm...so tight."
The way he said it wasnt just praise, it was reverance. You felt his pleasure hit the tether instantly, crashing back into you in a hot rush that ripped a cry from your throat. Every slow inch he slid inside magnified the connection, sending spikes of exquisite heat spirling out from your core until your back arched. His hand slid down from your wrists and you gripped his shoulders, nails biting in.
He bottomed out with a deep, shuddering breath, his lips flushed against yours. The link pulsed hard enough to steal your air, his pleasure pouring through it, how you squeezed him, clenched around him, how unbearably perfect it felt.
He slowly started to move. So slow you wanted to scream. His hips rolled into yours with devastating precision, every withdrawal dragging along your walls like a velvet blade before sliding back in, filling you to the hilt. The tether turned each motion into a double assault; you felt not only your own pleasure but his, sharp and dizzying, until your voice shattered into breathless, frantic whimpers.
"Merrit, please. Faster. Please go faster."
But he only smiled that terrible, beautiful smile, both dimples showing. "No. You take every second I give you. Every. Single. One."
As if to prove it, his hands began to move again. Not to pin you this time, but to tickle, light, sensual strokes up your sides and then back down to the sensitive skin along your inner arms, tracing just enough to make you squeal and shudder. The maddening, feather-light touches clashed with the deep, slow thrusts, sending your body into wild confusion. Laughter and moans intertwined until you couldn't tell them apart.
He kissed you then, not to comfort, but to claim; his mouth slow and deep, swallowing your cries as his hips kept their merciless pace. His need was ripping through you, flooding wave after wave of his devastating pleasure into you, until your begging became little more than sobbed, incoherent fragments against his mouth.
His rhythm stayed torturously steady, deep, measured rolls of his hips that dragged you along every inch of him, filling you, stretching you, claiming you with each thrust.
But then.
You felt it.
A spike...hotter, more intense than before. Merrits control wavered, just for a heartbeat, his breath catching as his eyes fluttered half shut. The sensation slammed into you; his sensations; how wet you were, how your heat wrapped around him like you were made for him alone, how every slow slide in made his spike and shiver.
He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as if holding back a flood. His hair fell forward, black silk brushing your cheek, and he looked at you through his lashes; eyes dark, almost pained with how good it felt. His dimples didn't show now. This was something deeper, hungrier.
It pulsed again, feeding you another rush; how your body squeezed around him when he pulled back, how your soft laugh vibrated against his chest when he pushed in, how the slow stretch made him ache to lose control. He groaned low, the sound gutteral, almost broken. You felt his self-control, how tightly it was wound, how desperately he was holding the line. And that awareness only made the heat between you unbearable.
It happened without warning.
You felt it before you heard it, his control snapping. His hips stilled flush to yours for a single, taut second, his entire body tensed, his head bowed over you. A sound escaped him, low, deep, half-groan, half-growl.
The tether blasted open.
Everything he felt, every ounce of raw, unfiltered bliss, poured into you all at once. All. Of It. In a single, overwhelming wave.
His head lifted, eyes locked on yours, burning and wild now, no trace of cool restraint he'd worn before. His mouth parted and his breathing grew heavier. He rolled his hips again. This time deeper, harder. Then again and again, each thrust blasting another pulse of pleasure into you until you were gasping, moaning, begging between every movement.
"Please, please...I'm so close."
He swallowed your begging with his mouth, the kiss anguished, lips hot and hungry. His hands were tickling you frantically now; hips, ribs, underarms, sides. Caressing, gripping, scrabbling, fingers curling in, all in maddening tandem. Your hips jolted, your moans pitched higher, your laughter broke into his kiss.
You could feel the way your reactions drove him closer to the edge.
"I can feel it," he panted against your lips. "Every twitch, every laugh, every time you squeeze around me...oh god's, Petal, you're going to ruin me."
His pace finally broke; thrusts coming harder now. The world narrowed to heat and touch and breath until you were sobbing his name, every sound you made, ricocheting back through the tether to drive him harder into you.
The moment it hit was like nothing you'd ever felt. Too much heat, too much light, as if your body had been wound so tightly the only thing left was to break.
Merrits hips slammed flush to yours and stayed there. His entire body seizing with the force of it. His head snapped back, throat bared, teeth bared. The sound that tore from him wasn't a simple groan, it was dark, gutteral, feral. A raw, wicked yell of pure ecstacy that vibrated through the air and through you.
The tether erupted.
It was a detonation, no gentle build, no gradual crest. His release blasted into you like molten fire, every shudder, every pulse of him inside you translating directly into your own body. You felt it all; the way your heat squeezed him so tightly it was almost pain, the intoxicating friction of your bodies joined so completely, the hot flood of him spilling into you. His pleasure wasnt just his anymore, it was yours, doubled, augmented until it burned.
Your scream mingled with his groans, your nails biting deep into the hard muscles of his back. Your legs locked around his waist, your hips arching as wave after wave tore through you. Every contraction of your climax made him groan again and every groan sent another shock wave of pleasure down the tether until you were locked in an endless feedback loop of mutual destruction.
You writhed beneath him, your mouth falling open in ragged cries, tears streaking your flushed cheeks from the sheer intensity. The sound you made wasnt just pleasure, it was disbelief, desperation, need, all entwined into a voice you barely recognized as your own.
Merrits eyes snapped down to yours mid-climax, wild and almost disbelieving, his jaw clenched tight as another violent pulse siezed him.
The loop was merciless, your climax feeding his, his feeding yours, over and over until your bodies shook, your lungs burned and your vision blurred at the edges. Neither of you could stop, neither of you wanted to. The sensation was explosive, primal, an obliteration that left nothing but the need to hold, to take, to feel.
By the time it began to ebb, you both were gasping for air, both trembling violently, the tether thrumming between you like a living thing reluctant to let go. He collapsed forward, still burried deep, his forehead pressed to yours, breath hot and uneven.
The last aftershocks jolted through you both, smaller but still sharp enough to make you whimper into his mouth as he kissed you; slow now, sweetly, as if savoring the last traces of the storm youd just unleashed together.
Merrit
The day began in that soft, endless twilight that was uniquely Merrits realm; no sun, no moon, only the silvery glow that made every surface gleam faintly and every shadow seemed deeper. You woke wrapped in black velvet sheets that held the faint smell of his skin; warm, clean, with the darker thread of cedar and smoke that clung to him like a signature.
He was already awake, sitting against the headboard, one knee drawn up, watching you with his usual unreadable expression. His black hair was a little mussed, falling in lose waves around his face and the pale blue-black of his eyes was heavy in the dim light.
"Morning, love." He murmured, voice low and even, but with a weight that seemed to settle in your chest. His hand reached out, fingers brushing over yiur cheek with almost no pressure, like he was just clearing an invisible thread from your skin. He bent, kissed your lips slowly. Not deep. Not demanding. But long enough for you to taste the warmth of his breath before he pulled away.
You though he might leave you to dress alone. He didn't. From that moment, Merrit became an unshakable presence. Not looming. Not hovering. Just there.
When you stepped out of bed, he moved aside, but his fingertips grazed the inside of your forearm as you passed, lingering a fraction too long before slipping away. In the wardrobe room, he leaned lazily against the frame, eyes fixed on you as you chose your dress. As you turned, his knuckles skimmed your hip. Not enough to startle, but to make you acutely aware of how close his hand had been to the inside of your thigh.
Over breakfast at his low, dark wood table, he sat beside you instead of across. He didn't reach for food much, just let his arm stretch along the back of your chair so that his fingertips occasionally brushed your shoulder. Sometimes they slid down, only by an inch or two, to trace the curve where your neck met your collarbone. Every time, it was light enough to be dismissable. Every time, you swallowed harder than you meant to.
In the library, you climbed a ladder to reach a high shelf. You felt him before you heard him; the heat of his body at your back, one hand steadying your waist as you leaned forward. He said nothing, simply took the book from you when you desended. His fingers didn't leave the spine until they brushed yours.
It went on for hours.
In the frost-dusted rose gardens, he stood behind you so close that his sleeve brushed your arm whenever he shifted. In the long, vaulted corridors, his hand would ghost the small of your back as you walked, sometimes pressing just enough to guide you around the corner. When you stopped to admire a piece of shadowy statuary, he stepped behind you, his breath close to your ear as he made a quiet observation, and then his palm slid briefly over your hip before he walked away again, as though the touch had meant nothing.
By mid-afternoon, your skin felt hypersensitive, humming where his hands had been. You could feel the tension like static under your ribs. It wasn't that he'd done anything overt. He hadn't tried to tickle you, hadn't even openly teased. But the unbroken chain of small, lingering contacts was unraveling you one thread at a time.
When you curled up in a chair with a book that evening, you realize you'd read the same page three times without absorbing a word. Merrit was seated across the room, in a spill of silver light, his head bowed as he examined something in his hands. But you knew he was aware; his stillness felt purposful, like a hunter at rest.
By the time you retreated to his bed chamber, the air between you was dense with something unspoken. The black silk of your nightgown whispered against your legs as you sat on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting idly in your lap.
Merrit appeared on the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, arms folded. His gaze was heavy on you, not cold, not exactly warm...just consuming.
"You've been quiet today." He said atlast, his tone deep, almost conversational, but edged with intent.
You tried to sound even. "You've been following me."
His smirk was slow, faint, dangerous. "Observing, waiting."
"For what?"
That was when he moved.
Two strides brought him to you, his presence filling the space. He stopped just close enough that his knees brushed yours. His hands came up to rest on either side of your thighs, fingers flexing once against the silk before sliding upward in unhurried paths along your hips. The pads of his thumbs grazed your ribs, a whisper of a touch, not yet tickling, and you felt your breath hitch.
He bent his head so his hair fell forward, brushing your temple. "For this."
The first real touch was devastating in its restraint; fingertips gliding beneath yiur ribs, tracing the edges as though mapping the shape of your breath. His hands stayed there longer than necessary, the slow drag of skin on skin making your stomach tighten.
"All day," he said, voice almost a rumble in your ear. "I've been wondering how long it would take before you broke."
You laughed. Breathless, reflexive, when his fingers shifted lower, brushing the curve of your waist with light, testing strokes. He didn't push you yet, just let the anticipation settle until it almost hurt.
"I've been patient, love," he said, each word curling into a promise. "but now im going to let you feel everything I've been holding back."
He whispered a spell, and the tether locked into place. It was sudden, like a ribbon snapping taut between your bodies. But instead of pulling you physically, it pulled you through. Your breath caught, your chest tightening as heat rolled into you that wasn't your own.
It was him. His want.
Not frantic.
Controlled.
Dark, slow-burning. The kind of lust that doesnt rush because it knows it will have what it wants.
Your heart tripped hard against your ribs as your body responded before your mind could catch up. Your thighs pressing together, your fingers curling into his shirt.
"Merrit..." It came out more like a plea than you meant.
The brush of his fingers over your ribs was light, exploratory, circling lazily under the fabric of your nightgown. It was ticklish enough to make your breath hitch. And the tether fed the sound of it straight to him. The rush of pleasure that spiked in him slammed back into you, making your stomach clench and your lips part on a startled moan.
He chuckled under his breath. "There...feel that?" His voice was warm, indulgent, as though this was all unfolding exactly as he'd planned. "Every little gasp, every twitch, it runs right through me, love. And I'm going to savor them all."
His hands shifted, thumbs pressing lightly at your sides while his fingers curled inward, kneading gently into the sensitive flesh there. You laughed helplessly, twisting, but every shake of your body sharpened the heat between you. You could feel how much he liked it, the slow pulse of his arousal, slipping through the magical link and sinking low into you until your knees trembled.
You clawed at his shirt, pulling him closer even as you tried pushing him away. "Merrit..." You broke off in a breathless laugh when his fingers slid higher, tracing up your ribs one by one in a maddening, unhurried climb.
He stopped just below your underarms, letting his fingers hover there. "Sensitive here," he murmured, his breath brushing your ear. '"aren't you, little one?"
Before you could answer, he pressed in. Not harsh, but with a slow, insistent pressure that made you collapse against him. The tether flared with a spike of lust in him at the sound of your laughter breaking into a moan, and you felt it melt into you until you could hardly separate the sensation.
You twisted, trying to turn away, but he followed easily, his hands sliding down your hips. His thumbs dug in just enough to make you squirm.
"Oh, you're lovely like this," he said softly. "Laughing...writhing...trying to get away even though you're pressing yourself into me."
His right hand left your hip to trail up your side again, fingers drumming lightly. Each tap deliberate, designed to make you twitch. When he reached your underarm a second time, he didn't rush; he teased there in small, circular motions, just enough to keep you gasping and wriggling.
The tether made every motion a loop; your laughter turning into his pleasure, his pleasure turning into your ache. Your thighs squeezed together involuntary, your hips shifting restlessly under his weight.
"Merrit, please." Your voice cracked between a laughter and a moan.
His smirk deepened, and you felt the slow swell of satisfaction in him hearing you beg. "Not yet, love. Im going to take my time."
He slid his hands back down, tickling the outer edges of your thighs in light, fluttering strokes before shifting inwards. The moment his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you gasped and he exhaled sharply; the link between you humming with the force of his reaction.
You pushed at his chest, turned your face away, tried to curl your legs in, but it was useless. Every movement only pushed that deep heat between you tighter until you could feel his composure pressing like a weight in your chest.
His fingers spidered across your lower stomach in delicate, taunting sweeps with the slow precision of someone who was going to drag this out. He stroked and traced the same path over and over until your laughter came in helpless bursts, punctured by moans you couldn't hold back.
"You're shaking," he murmured, his hands never stopping. "Do you feel how much I want you like this? Its in every touch, every breath. And you're not going to escape it until I decide youve had enough."
Your head tipped back against the velvet sheets, breath tearing out of you in uneven bursts, laughter tangled with moans, your thighs trembling from the slow, deliberate torment of his hands. The link between you throbbing like a live current, feeding his steady lust into you with every touch.
And then Merrits voice dropped void-dark, curling around the edge of your fraying composure.
"You know..." His thumb pressed into your hip as his other hand traced lazily along your ribs. "...I've been only giving you half of it."
You blinked up at him through strands of hair sticking to your damp cheeks. "H-half?"
His smirk deepened again. "Half the lust. Half the need. I wanted to see how long you could last on just that." His fingertips swept higher, slipping back into the tender hollows under your arm and pressing until you broke into ragged laughter. "But you've done so well, love...perhaps you deserve the rest."
Before you could answer, you felt it; pulling tighter, opening, and then the rest of him slammed into you like molten heat poured straight into your core. It wasnt a wave. It was an ocean.
"Merrit!" Your back arched violently, your breath catching in a moan that tumbled into breathless laughter as his fingers dug harder under your arm. "God's...oh god's...I feel you!"
"Yes," he murmured, almost purring the word. "Feel it all."
"No...nonononono!" You gasped, writhing under him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. "God's Merrit...you're so turned on, how can you stand it?!"
He didn't falter, didn't rush, didn't even look winded. "Practice." He said simply, voice low and edged like a blade. "And the knowledge that you can't. "
The tether was merciless now. Every helpless buck of your hips, every high broken laugh, every needy moan fed straight into him, and the reaction in him came roaring back into you. It doubled, trippled, until your body couldn't tell where his need ended and yours began.
Your face burned, mouth fully open between cries. "Merrit, please! Please...!" The words dissolved into laughter when he spidered both hands across your stomach and down your thighs before retreating just enough to make you chase the touch. He didn't even need to hold you down or restrain your hands. Every time you felt the feedback of his desire, your hands instinctively pulled back or desperately tried pulling him closer.
"You're begging so sweetly." He whispered, eyes locked on your face like he was memorizing every twitch, every shiver. "But I think I like the sound of you falling apart more."
"Please..." your voice cracked as you laughed again, hips twisting under his weight. "Please, I need...I can't!"
"I know you cant. But you will." His tone was firm but quiet, almost soothing if not for the relentless pace of his fingers digging at the curve of your waist and the inside of your thighs.
You choked on a moan, your head tipping back as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips trembled, catching between yiur teeth in a weak attempt to stop the sounds spilling out. But the tether made it impossible to hide. Every flicker of sensation, every clench of your body was laid bare to him, and every spike of molten lust of his rolled back into you until you thought your spine might snap from the tension.
"Tell me again," he coaxed, leaning down until his mouth brushed your ear. "Tell me how I feel."
Your voice was wrecked, but you gave it to him anyway. "You're...burning. God's, you're...Merrit, you need to cum just as badly as I do. How can you s-stand it?"
His laugh was low and utterly calm, his mouth ghosting over your jaw as his fingers swept mercilessly under the backs of your knees, forcing a shriek of laughter out of you. "Control, darling. Something I deeply possess. Something out of your reach entirely. And once I do arrive, it will be exquisite...and you'll feel every last drop of my release." He licked the shell of your ear, his breath hot and steady. "But only when Im ready to."
You moaned so hard it almost broke into a sob, your hips arching toward him in pure, aching reflex. "Please...please...I can't! Please let me."
"Not yet." The words were a growl, though his expression stayed maddeningly composed; dimples showing faintly, eyes burning but steady. His hands moved over the tops of your thighs before flicking at the backs of your knees again in quick, excruciating bursts that had you gasping and laughing and writhing all at once.
The tether was a living thing now; pulling, pushing, coiling around every nerve. Merrit poured into you in full, that deep, controlled heat that never ebbed, never faltered, only pressed harder the more you laughed, begged, the more you tried to get away. It was unbearable, not because it hurt, but because it felt like you were being filled with something you could neither release nor resist.
Your voice broke on his name countless times, your hands fisting into the black silk of his shirt. Your legs tried to curl in, to find some escape from the endless, taunting, tickling along your ribs, but he shifted instantly, straddling you and pinning your thighs between his knees.
"Stay still," he said, calm as ever, but his hands never stopped moving, pushing between the mattress and your legs; roaming behind your thighs to squeeze just where they met the crease of your ass, another calculated move to pull helpless yelps and shrieks from your lips.
You moaned through your laughter, head tossing back against the pillows.
Your fingers slid downward on instinct, desperate to relieve the pressure, but his hand intercepted yours with infuriating gentleness. He didn't grip. He simply pressed your wrist against the sheets as if it were effortless.
"No." He said softly, almost kindly, but the denial was absolute.
You made a sound you didn't recognize; half whimper, half plea, and you shook your head.
"I can't stand it Merrit. Please! You need to cum. You need it so badly, I can't stand it, its too much!"
Your thighs shifted beneath his, your breath coming in shallow bursts. "Let me, please," you begged again. "I need it...oh. fuck. I need it! Ill do anything. Anything you want, just..."
His eyes roamed your face; every flicker of desperation, the way your bottom lip trembled, the slight glaze in your gaze as his need took over yours. He leaned in, so close his breath feathered over your mouth and you thought for a moment he might give in.
Instead, he smiled. Both dimples. Cruel and beautiful. "You'll have it, Petal." He murmured. "But not until I've made you beg so sweetly I can taste it in your voice."
The tether throbbed again, flooding you with another wave of his white-hot need and your gasp broke into a shudder. Your body arched involuntary, searching for friction that wasnt there, the ache so sharp it was almost pain.
"Please, I need it! I can't wait a second longer, I need you now!"
He hummed low in his throat, the sound dark and amused. "I know you need it, little one. That's the point."
He shifted, pinning your wrists with one hand, as the other found his favorite playground once again, his fingers stroking under your arm with exquisite slowness. The sensitivity there was unbearable under normal circumstances, but with the link burning you alive, it was devastating.
You're laughter spilled over, wild and desperate, tangled with gasps and whimpers. You kicked, thrashed, but his hold was immovable.
And then...
His mouth replaced his hand.
The first hot stroke of his tongue against your underarm made you jolt so hard the tether spiked again, flooding you with another wave of his need. You cried out, part shock, part molten pleasure, part ticklish agony.
He licked deliberately, slow and thorough, tasting you like he was committing your skin to memory. The rasp of his tongue shifted to the soft pull of his lips, sucking lightly before letting them part with a wet, sinful sound that made your toes curl.
The mix of sensations was insufferable. Your body didn't know whether to laugh or moan, to fight or surrender and the confusion on your face only fed Merrits lust.
"Ill be good...please, I'll do anything..." Your voice cracked, eyes bright and wet, lips parted in desperate need. You were begging without shame now, every syllable thick with anguish.
Your begging only deepens his focus. He nibbled lightly, teeth grazing the sensitive skin until you gasped, then soothed the spot with a slow swirling of his tongue. Every lick, every warm exhale sent another shock from him, through you and you felt the answering pulse of his arousal dropped into you like a second heartbeat.
He switched to the other side, worshipping you there with the same exacting torment, licking upward in slow, languid strokes, biting just hard enough to make you squeal, then lapping at the spot as if savoring a rare delicacy. Your laughter pitched high, entangled with helpless, needy moans, your body twisting in his hold.
You were sobbing now, shaking, your face flushed and eyes glassy with the force of it all.
"Please, please let me cum, Merrit, I'm begging you! I need it, I'm going to lose my mind!"
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his mouth glistening, his gaze now smoldering with his own need. You saw it. You felt it. The fracture in his composure was undeniable. The plea slipped from his lips, so gentle and with a yearning that caused you to groan.
"Please...Petal. Just a little longer. Do it for me. I want you right here, laughing, begging, falling apart. Just a little longer."
He didn't wait for you to answer. Begging wasn't in his nature; Merrit took without asking and despite his sweet beeseechment, this was no different.
Then he's bent again, his tongue sliding into your hollow, sucking deep as the tether blazed uncontrollably and your scream was pure, unrestrained desperation. The sight of him above you was unraveling you; black hair falling in perfect dissaray over his forehead, his mouth wet from his slow, wicked worship. His beauty was almost unbearable at this distance.
You didn't even hear the sound of the zipper or register the subtle tug and shift before you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. For one suspended heartbeat, he just looked at you, dimples ghosting into view, lips curved in a knowing smile, before he pushed in.
The first inch made him groan low in his chest, a sound so raw you felt it vibrate through you. His eyes half-lidded, the lashes casting shadows over the sharp cut of his cheekbones, his lips parted as he sank deeper.
"God's, Petal..." His voice rough and ragged. "You're so warm...so tight."
The way he said it wasnt just praise, it was reverance. You felt his pleasure hit the tether instantly, crashing back into you in a hot rush that ripped a cry from your throat. Every slow inch he slid inside magnified the connection, sending spikes of exquisite heat spirling out from your core until your back arched. His hand slid down from your wrists and you gripped his shoulders, nails biting in.
He bottomed out with a deep, shuddering breath, his lips flushed against yours. The link pulsed hard enough to steal your air, his pleasure pouring through it, how you squeezed him, clenched around him, how unbearably perfect it felt.
He slowly started to move. So slow you wanted to scream. His hips rolled into yours with devastating precision, every withdrawal dragging along your walls like a velvet blade before sliding back in, filling you to the hilt. The tether turned each motion into a double assault; you felt not only your own pleasure but his, sharp and dizzying, until your voice shattered into breathless, frantic whimpers.
"Merrit, please. Faster. Please go faster."
But he only smiled that terrible, beautiful smile, both dimples showing. "No. You take every second I give you. Every. Single. One."
As if to prove it, his hands began to move again. Not to pin you this time, but to tickle, light, sensual strokes up your sides and then back down to the sensitive skin along your inner arms, tracing just enough to make you squeal and shudder. The maddening, feather-light touches clashed with the deep, slow thrusts, sending your body into wild confusion. Laughter and moans intertwined until you couldn't tell them apart.
He kissed you then, not to comfort, but to claim; his mouth slow and deep, swallowing your cries as his hips kept their merciless pace. His need was ripping through you, flooding wave after wave of his devastating pleasure into you, until your begging became little more than sobbed, incoherent fragments against his mouth.
His rhythm stayed torturously steady, deep, measured rolls of his hips that dragged you along every inch of him, filling you, stretching you, claiming you with each thrust.
But then.
You felt it.
A spike...hotter, more intense than before. Merrits control wavered, just for a heartbeat, his breath catching as his eyes fluttered half shut. The sensation slammed into you; his sensations; how wet you were, how your heat wrapped around him like you were made for him alone, how every slow slide in made his spike and shiver.
He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as if holding back a flood. His hair fell forward, black silk brushing your cheek, and he looked at you through his lashes; eyes dark, almost pained with how good it felt. His dimples didn't show now. This was something deeper, hungrier.
It pulsed again, feeding you another rush; how your body squeezed around him when he pulled back, how your soft laugh vibrated against his chest when he pushed in, how the slow stretch made him ache to lose control. He groaned low, the sound gutteral, almost broken. You felt his self-control, how tightly it was wound, how desperately he was holding the line. And that awareness only made the heat between you unbearable.
It happened without warning.
You felt it before you heard it, his control snapping. His hips stilled flush to yours for a single, taut second, his entire body tensed, his head bowed over you. A sound escaped him, low, deep, half-groan, half-growl.
The tether blasted open.
Everything he felt, every ounce of raw, unfiltered bliss, poured into you all at once. All. Of It. In a single, overwhelming wave.
His head lifted, eyes locked on yours, burning and wild now, no trace of cool restraint he'd worn before. His mouth parted and his breathing grew heavier. He rolled his hips again. This time deeper, harder. Then again and again, each thrust blasting another pulse of pleasure into you until you were gasping, moaning, begging between every movement.
"Please, please...I'm so close."
He swallowed your begging with his mouth, the kiss anguished, lips hot and hungry. His hands were tickling you frantically now; hips, ribs, underarms, sides. Caressing, gripping, scrabbling, fingers curling in, all in maddening tandem. Your hips jolted, your moans pitched higher, your laughter broke into his kiss.
You could feel the way your reactions drove him closer to the edge.
"I can feel it," he panted against your lips. "Every twitch, every laugh, every time you squeeze around me...oh god's, Petal, you're going to ruin me."
His pace finally broke; thrusts coming harder now. The world narrowed to heat and touch and breath until you were sobbing his name, every sound you made, ricocheting back through the tether to drive him harder into you.
The moment it hit was like nothing you'd ever felt. Too much heat, too much light, as if your body had been wound so tightly the only thing left was to break.
Merrits hips slammed flush to yours and stayed there. His entire body seizing with the force of it. His head snapped back, throat bared, teeth bared. The sound that tore from him wasn't a simple groan, it was dark, gutteral, feral. A raw, wicked yell of pure ecstacy that vibrated through the air and through you.
The tether erupted.
It was a detonation, no gentle build, no gradual crest. His release blasted into you like molten fire, every shudder, every pulse of him inside you translating directly into your own body. You felt it all; the way your heat squeezed him so tightly it was almost pain, the intoxicating friction of your bodies joined so completely, the hot flood of him spilling into you. His pleasure wasnt just his anymore, it was yours, doubled, augmented until it burned.
Your scream mingled with his groans, your nails biting deep into the hard muscles of his back. Your legs locked around his waist, your hips arching as wave after wave tore through you. Every contraction of your climax made him groan again and every groan sent another shock wave of pleasure down the tether until you were locked in an endless feedback loop of mutual destruction.
You writhed beneath him, your mouth falling open in ragged cries, tears streaking your flushed cheeks from the sheer intensity. The sound you made wasnt just pleasure, it was disbelief, desperation, need, all entwined into a voice you barely recognized as your own.
Merrits eyes snapped down to yours mid-climax, wild and almost disbelieving, his jaw clenched tight as another violent pulse siezed him.
The loop was merciless, your climax feeding his, his feeding yours, over and over until your bodies shook, your lungs burned and your vision blurred at the edges. Neither of you could stop, neither of you wanted to. The sensation was explosive, primal, an obliteration that left nothing but the need to hold, to take, to feel.
By the time it began to ebb, you both were gasping for air, both trembling violently, the tether thrumming between you like a living thing reluctant to let go. He collapsed forward, still burried deep, his forehead pressed to yours, breath hot and uneven.
The last aftershocks jolted through you both, smaller but still sharp enough to make you whimper into his mouth as he kissed you; slow now, sweetly, as if savoring the last traces of the storm youd just unleashed together.
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