I’d start out slowly working up from a kiss. It would be a soft kiss. I’d close my lips wetly over yours and taste them. You’d taste of salt, and faintly sweet. I’d gently part your lips with my tongue so you could taste me. I’d be wearing that cherry flavored lip gloss you seem to like on me.
The kiss would quickly escalate. I’d whisper hotly against your mouth, “Alec… My Alec,” unraveling any inhibitions you may have as my hands begin to divest you of your clothes. You’d barely notice my fingers unzipping your pants, too busy would you be fumbling with my belt buckle. I’d giggle because you always get anxious and struggle with that stubborn accessory.
Before you’d know it, my hand would be inside your pants, jammed into your boxers, cupping your burgeoning need. Your breath would hitch, as it always does when I touch you so possessively. You’d say my name with a pleading moan, urging me to get you hard while you’d remove your bothersome clothes. My fingers would curl around your freed arousal and stroke you slowly and firmly. Your flesh would grow turgid in my grasp, and my own need would stiffen just from the sound of your moans and the power I wield when your cock is in my hand.
Once we are free of clothing, I’d push you onto your back. I’d hover above you, admiring your nude form, caressing every angle, curve and muscle with just a hungry glance. I’d trace a glitter-varnished finger over a permanent rune and tell you how beautiful you are, because no matter how many times I see you naked, it will always be like discovering the splendor of your body for the first time.
Then I’d pin you to the bed with my body nestled between your legs and my hands shackling your wrists to the pillow. I’d gently scrape my nails down your chest, sending electric sparks of magic bouncing off your skin. I’d softly nip at the tender flesh at the crook of your neck and inhale your scent. You’d smell of sweat and sandalwood and a certain unique essence that’s inherently you – the smell of night and youth and innocence – the scent that I love to find lingering in my sheets after you’ve gone.
You’d writhe beneath me, eager for friction. I can never tease you for too long, so I would grind slowly against you, moving my hips sinuously in perfect synchronization with yours, allowing our matching arousals to brush. A touch of lubricant would heighten the sensation, and another application to just the right place would prove your undoing. I’d make you pliant and accepting with deftly employed fingers, and maybe even my tongue if we’re adventurous tonight. Soon you would blossom and moan imploringly for me, and I would know you’re ready.
I’m always gentle at first. You’re still so new to this, and I’d never want to hurt you. So I’d dig my fingers into your thighs to push your legs back until your knees are nearly at your shoulders, taking full advantage of your Shadowhunter flexibility. Then I’d press the tip of my arousal to your waiting entrance, teasing against you until you’re begging for me with ragged breaths. I’d bite my bottom lip while I savored the ecstasy of that first breach – that incredible sensation when I first enter you. I would slowly ease into you, careful and calculated, melting deeper into your flesh with each whispered entreaty. Once fully lodged inside you, I’d pause, unmoving, just to revel in your warmth and tightness.
I would bury my face into the side of your neck and mutter adorations against your skin, letting your sweat sting my kiss-bruised lips. I’d lace our fingers together on the pillow. I wouldn’t move until you’d say those magical words.
“Fuck me, Magnus.”
You’d speak these words as a whispered command, because even though you’re on the bottom, you are in complete control of me. I am yours, to give you every pleasure and cede to every demand.
A single hard thrust would force your breath past your parted lips, and another would make you gasp. Several repeated thrusts would make you groan with pleasure. As I’d find my rhythm, you’d wrench your fingers free from mine to dig into my backside for encouragement. I’d let you guide me with your hands, your moans, and the arch of your body against me – harder, harder, HARDER, you’d insist, until I’m almost afraid I’d break you. But I know you can take it. You are stronger than most men, and a cock slut with a stamina rune at that – I’m smirking with amusement at the thought.
I would feel your every muscle tighten with desperate need as my own body would tense with mounting pleasure. Your glaringly hard and weeping erection would scream for attention, trapped against your abdomen, sliding between our sweat-slicked bodies. I’d sit back on my knees, allowing for more movement. I’d take your ankles and rest them on my shoulders, once again thankful for your flexibility. This angle would allow me to stimulate just the right spot inside you. You’d cry out unabashedly and you’d gaze up at me with pleading blue eyes, imploring me to make you come. I’d curl my fingers tightly around your beautiful cock and pull in time with each fervent thrust.
We wouldn’t last long like this. Soon, you’d spasm in my fist and spurt all over your taut abdomen. I’d watch rapturously as you’d come undone. The feel of your hot essence dripping over my hand and the look of utter bliss on your face would be enough to send me over the edge. I’d dig my fingertips into your thighs as I’d thrust with desperate force. My release would come shooting forth with a primal groan through gritted teeth. I’d drape my body over yours, riding out the waves of my orgasm, filling you so completely.
And in the end, you’d feel my heart beating swiftly against yours and taste the metallic tinge of adrenaline on my tongue as I kiss you. You would hear me purr your name contentedly into your ear. I wouldn’t have to say it, because you should already know and feel it in every aching inch of your utterly shagged body, but I’d whisper,
“I love you.”