april
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,199
- Points
- 63
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Sylus
You've asked many times before, but have been met with flat out refusal. This was Sylus afterall. Merrits identical twin; yet his opposite in temperanent and disposition. All sharp beauty, all cold command. That unreadable face, that slow, stalking presence.
Eyes like dark stone. Hes built like a blade. Precision, control.
And you want to break him with your touch.
You watch him with intent in your eyes. Hes standing by a tall arched window, his arms crossed behind his back. His apparel is unusually casual; no long dark coat draped over his shoulders, just a black shirt clinging to his lean frame. Black trousers tucked into black boots; sharp, elegant, commanding. He doesn't look at you as you enter. He doesnt need to. He feels you. Every shift in the air. Every footstep.
"I know what you want," he says flatly without turning around.
Your smile curls slow and wicked. "Do you?"
He finally turns his head. Just a tilt. Just enough to look at you over his shoulder.
"You want to test me," he says quietly. "To humiliate me."
"I want to play," you whisper sweetly. "And I think you're scared."
That gets him.
He turns to face you fully now, face impassive - but there's tension beneath it.
"I do not fear you." He says simply.
You stepped forward, toe to toe with him, craning your head back to look into that chiseled face.
"But you are ticklish."
Silence.
His jaw tightens. But he says nothing.
And so...you act.
You lunge.
Your fingers dart straight for his sides - fast and unexpected, they connect.
What happens next is like lightning cracking through marble.
His entire body jolts violently, back arching as he let's out a sharp breath. Almost a gasp, almost a sound of disbelief. His hands snap forward to grab your wrists, but you're quick. You dance back, fingers still wiggling, barely grazing over his ribs again.
He grits his teeth.
"Dont." He growls.
But now youve seen it.
That flash in his eyes.
That tension in his lips.
The way his muscles twitch every time you get close.
You smirk.
"Oh god's, Sylus...you hate this."
You lunge again, this time diving into his stomach. Your fingers press into the soft space beneath his navel. His reaction is instant.
Not loud. Not boyish like Jacob's. Not helpless like Merrit. But a single, deep, involuntary sound, ripped from his chest like it betrayed him.
His hand flys to cover his mouth.
You freeze.
"Did you just..."
"No." He snaps, turning away. But the tips of his ears are pink.
He tries walking away, but you dart behind him, your nimble fingers spidering across his ribs and down his hips. His whole body stiffens, and suddenly hes laughing again - short, restrained, furious at how much he cant hold it.
His body snaps back around to face you.
"Stop it," he growls, but its shakey now. "This is beneath me."
You lock eyes with him defiantly as your small hands slide effortlessly into his underarms. He howls. Sharp, rich laughter bursts from him, surprised and violent, and you can feel his body tremble under your touch.
You've found it.
His weakness.
And he hates you for it.
Which means its so much better.
"You're blushing, Sylus," you whisper in his ear, still curling your fingers into his underarms. "What would the others say if they saw their perfect, untouchable shadow twin...giggling like a little boy?"
"Don't you dare..."
"Ohh, no," you giggle. "I think you're going to beg."
You slide your fingers up his long, sensitive neck, teasing, tracing, fluttering.
He barks out another laugh, half twisting to turn, but you push him flush against the wall, your chest to his back. He just stands there, chest heaving, his arms trembling from how hard hes trying not to lose it again.
"You're going to suffer for this." He growls through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I hope so," you whisper as you reach around his body and slide your fingers across his abs, feather-light, devastating.
He gasps again, shuddering, helpless. And this time he makes a sound youve never heard before.
A whimper.
Low. Humiliated. Desperate.
And still...he doesnt stop you.
Because despite everything, hes letting you do this.
And that makes it all the sweeter.
You have him in your grasp, pinned to the wall, breathless and trembling. His pale skin flushed, his fingers curling tightly into fists at his sides.
You've never seen him like this. No one has.
And you're not done.
You step in close again, body pressed against his back, your hands roaming slowly, teasing along the backs of his thighs. He flinches at every touch, still tense, still holding back.
"You can't keep pretending you hate this," you murmur softly against his neck. "Your body's giving you away."
You reach around again and slide your hand down the front of his trousers, just lightly, barley touching. You feel him.
Hes hard.
Painfully hard
You smile against his skin.
"Oh, Sylus..."
He growls, low and trembling.
"That's...involuntary. "
"Oh, I know," you coo, dragging your nails across the length of him. "So is the way your thighs clench when I do this."
You purr into his ear, long and sweet, the vibrations making him gasp loudly.
"Stop...please." Its barely a whisper, edged in desperation. "I can't handle you."
"Shhh..." you whisper, trailing your nails over the back of his knees, circling up to his inner thighs, tickling him just enough to make his breath hitch, but soft enough to keep it sensual. His back arches subtly into you, his hands once fists, are now flexing open and closed, like he doesn't know where to put them.
Hes become too comfortable.
Your hands are at his ribs again, suddenly and without warning. You push them between each ridge, where hes soft - most vulnerable. Fingers curling with precise pressure; again and again and again. His foot steps out to the side, attempting to better ground himself. His body is shifting beneath your wicked touch, desperately trying to move away from the sensations slamming into him. But you just follow his movements with ease as laughter spills freely out of him. Hes abandoned all control as you take it from him joyously.
"That's it," you croon. "I can feel it. The way your body wants it."
He growls through the laughter but its not convincing. Its ragged, vulnerable, raw.
You turn his body to face you. He doesn't stop you and you press him gently back into the wall, hands sliding up under his shirt to stroke his abs. The ticklishness is still there, still maddening. But hes not pulling away anymore.
Hes breathing faster now.
You rest one hand against his chest and glance down. His erection is pressing hard against the front of his trousers, and your thigh brushes against it gently as you lean in.
"You're getting turned on by me tickling you," you whisper. "God's, that's so hot."
His jaw ticks and he swallows hard. There it is. The crack. The twitch of his lips. The way his eyes narrow. But not with anger.
With need.
"Say it," you murmur. "Say you're enjoying it."
He stares at you, stone faced.
You merely reach up into the hollows of his underarms and curve your fingers...just so.
His expression falls.
His body spasms against your touch.
Both hands slam palms down against the wall behind him.
He throws his head back and laughs. Deep, unfiltered and panicked.
"I...," he chokes out, breath stuttering. "I...hate how good it feels!"
Your thigh presses against the bulge behind his trousers, gently teasing the hard outline of his cock.
"I think," you purr wickedly agsinst his ear. "Im going to make you cum...while I tickle you."
His eyes go wide, gorgeous, startled. And then he moans.
Low.
Gutteral.
Utterly undone.
You take his hand and pull him behind you, guiding him towards his private chambers. He doesn't fight you. He just obeys.Your unyielding, dark prince of shadow and stone; surrendering himself completely. And completely yours.
Sylus
You've asked many times before, but have been met with flat out refusal. This was Sylus afterall. Merrits identical twin; yet his opposite in temperanent and disposition. All sharp beauty, all cold command. That unreadable face, that slow, stalking presence.
Eyes like dark stone. Hes built like a blade. Precision, control.
And you want to break him with your touch.
You watch him with intent in your eyes. Hes standing by a tall arched window, his arms crossed behind his back. His apparel is unusually casual; no long dark coat draped over his shoulders, just a black shirt clinging to his lean frame. Black trousers tucked into black boots; sharp, elegant, commanding. He doesn't look at you as you enter. He doesnt need to. He feels you. Every shift in the air. Every footstep.
"I know what you want," he says flatly without turning around.
Your smile curls slow and wicked. "Do you?"
He finally turns his head. Just a tilt. Just enough to look at you over his shoulder.
"You want to test me," he says quietly. "To humiliate me."
"I want to play," you whisper sweetly. "And I think you're scared."
That gets him.
He turns to face you fully now, face impassive - but there's tension beneath it.
"I do not fear you." He says simply.
You stepped forward, toe to toe with him, craning your head back to look into that chiseled face.
"But you are ticklish."
Silence.
His jaw tightens. But he says nothing.
And so...you act.
You lunge.
Your fingers dart straight for his sides - fast and unexpected, they connect.
What happens next is like lightning cracking through marble.
His entire body jolts violently, back arching as he let's out a sharp breath. Almost a gasp, almost a sound of disbelief. His hands snap forward to grab your wrists, but you're quick. You dance back, fingers still wiggling, barely grazing over his ribs again.
He grits his teeth.
"Dont." He growls.
But now youve seen it.
That flash in his eyes.
That tension in his lips.
The way his muscles twitch every time you get close.
You smirk.
"Oh god's, Sylus...you hate this."
You lunge again, this time diving into his stomach. Your fingers press into the soft space beneath his navel. His reaction is instant.
Not loud. Not boyish like Jacob's. Not helpless like Merrit. But a single, deep, involuntary sound, ripped from his chest like it betrayed him.
His hand flys to cover his mouth.
You freeze.
"Did you just..."
"No." He snaps, turning away. But the tips of his ears are pink.
He tries walking away, but you dart behind him, your nimble fingers spidering across his ribs and down his hips. His whole body stiffens, and suddenly hes laughing again - short, restrained, furious at how much he cant hold it.
His body snaps back around to face you.
"Stop it," he growls, but its shakey now. "This is beneath me."
You lock eyes with him defiantly as your small hands slide effortlessly into his underarms. He howls. Sharp, rich laughter bursts from him, surprised and violent, and you can feel his body tremble under your touch.
You've found it.
His weakness.
And he hates you for it.
Which means its so much better.
"You're blushing, Sylus," you whisper in his ear, still curling your fingers into his underarms. "What would the others say if they saw their perfect, untouchable shadow twin...giggling like a little boy?"
"Don't you dare..."
"Ohh, no," you giggle. "I think you're going to beg."
You slide your fingers up his long, sensitive neck, teasing, tracing, fluttering.
He barks out another laugh, half twisting to turn, but you push him flush against the wall, your chest to his back. He just stands there, chest heaving, his arms trembling from how hard hes trying not to lose it again.
"You're going to suffer for this." He growls through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I hope so," you whisper as you reach around his body and slide your fingers across his abs, feather-light, devastating.
He gasps again, shuddering, helpless. And this time he makes a sound youve never heard before.
A whimper.
Low. Humiliated. Desperate.
And still...he doesnt stop you.
Because despite everything, hes letting you do this.
And that makes it all the sweeter.
You have him in your grasp, pinned to the wall, breathless and trembling. His pale skin flushed, his fingers curling tightly into fists at his sides.
You've never seen him like this. No one has.
And you're not done.
You step in close again, body pressed against his back, your hands roaming slowly, teasing along the backs of his thighs. He flinches at every touch, still tense, still holding back.
"You can't keep pretending you hate this," you murmur softly against his neck. "Your body's giving you away."
You reach around again and slide your hand down the front of his trousers, just lightly, barley touching. You feel him.
Hes hard.
Painfully hard
You smile against his skin.
"Oh, Sylus..."
He growls, low and trembling.
"That's...involuntary. "
"Oh, I know," you coo, dragging your nails across the length of him. "So is the way your thighs clench when I do this."
You purr into his ear, long and sweet, the vibrations making him gasp loudly.
"Stop...please." Its barely a whisper, edged in desperation. "I can't handle you."
"Shhh..." you whisper, trailing your nails over the back of his knees, circling up to his inner thighs, tickling him just enough to make his breath hitch, but soft enough to keep it sensual. His back arches subtly into you, his hands once fists, are now flexing open and closed, like he doesn't know where to put them.
Hes become too comfortable.
Your hands are at his ribs again, suddenly and without warning. You push them between each ridge, where hes soft - most vulnerable. Fingers curling with precise pressure; again and again and again. His foot steps out to the side, attempting to better ground himself. His body is shifting beneath your wicked touch, desperately trying to move away from the sensations slamming into him. But you just follow his movements with ease as laughter spills freely out of him. Hes abandoned all control as you take it from him joyously.
"That's it," you croon. "I can feel it. The way your body wants it."
He growls through the laughter but its not convincing. Its ragged, vulnerable, raw.
You turn his body to face you. He doesn't stop you and you press him gently back into the wall, hands sliding up under his shirt to stroke his abs. The ticklishness is still there, still maddening. But hes not pulling away anymore.
Hes breathing faster now.
You rest one hand against his chest and glance down. His erection is pressing hard against the front of his trousers, and your thigh brushes against it gently as you lean in.
"You're getting turned on by me tickling you," you whisper. "God's, that's so hot."
His jaw ticks and he swallows hard. There it is. The crack. The twitch of his lips. The way his eyes narrow. But not with anger.
With need.
"Say it," you murmur. "Say you're enjoying it."
He stares at you, stone faced.
You merely reach up into the hollows of his underarms and curve your fingers...just so.
His expression falls.
His body spasms against your touch.
Both hands slam palms down against the wall behind him.
He throws his head back and laughs. Deep, unfiltered and panicked.
"I...," he chokes out, breath stuttering. "I...hate how good it feels!"
Your thigh presses against the bulge behind his trousers, gently teasing the hard outline of his cock.
"I think," you purr wickedly agsinst his ear. "Im going to make you cum...while I tickle you."
His eyes go wide, gorgeous, startled. And then he moans.
Low.
Gutteral.
Utterly undone.
You take his hand and pull him behind you, guiding him towards his private chambers. He doesn't fight you. He just obeys.Your unyielding, dark prince of shadow and stone; surrendering himself completely. And completely yours.
