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The bench behind Eskel topples over and skids a handswidth across the floor with a screech. Eskel is on his ass and Lambert is on him in an instant, hand in Eskel’s hair, and Eskel is laughing despite the pain. Lambert doesn’t hold back. Eskel has that stocky build of a wrestler though and it’s always served him well. He gets a leg around Lambert’s nearest one and tucks his ankle under the other. Tucking his head in close to Lambert’s body and pulling with his leg flips Lambert hard onto his back on the flagstones. They’re both laughing and Lambert is still pulling his hair even as Eskel straddles and pins him.
And fuck if he isn’t half hard.
Lambert bucks his hips and rolls against Eskel, eyebrows raised in question.
“You boys either take it outside, or go to bed!” Vesemir’s voice belts out from the kitchen and Eskel groans. He knows the old man is right, a game of Gwent isn’t meant to get physical. But it’s the deepest part of winter and going outside to do anything that doesn’t involve feeding the animals is an exercise in hypothermia. “And clean up those cards before you do!” Vesemir has now come around the kitchen door to glower at their mess, and Eskel knows that if they don’t get to it, they’ll be running laps around the keep like little boys.
“Yeah, sorry.” It comes out low and deferential, as Eskel pries himself off of Lambert and offers a hand up.
The cards clean up quick. The bench is set to rights. Eskel follows Lambert through the kitchen, nodding at Vesemir again in a silent apology. The lack of response tells him it is accepted. If it wasn’t, Vesemir would have had more to say. The door at the base of the tower swings closed behind them and Eskel is mid thought of inviting Lambert to his room after all; his cock is still sort of interested, and Lambert had seemed eager. It’s not unheard of for them to have a friendly tumble, and it would pass the time more pleasantly than Gwent for sure.
Lambert stops on the stairs in front of Eskel, and as quick as he had been downstairs, he grabs a handful of Eskel’s cock. It startles a grunt out of Eskel, but it’s all the blatant interest he needs to know where tonight is going. Eskel pushes into Lambert’s touch, sighing when Lambert returns the pressure.
Nodding his head toward Lambert and the stairs behind him, Eskel follows again when Lambert continues to mount them. They don’t do this all the time, and they certainly aren’t promised to each other in any way. Sometimes in winter though, it just sort of…happens. And Eskel is more than happy to keep letting it happen. Welcome touches don’t often come a witcher’s way.
They pass one landing and carry on to the next, where Lambert reaches back, offering Eskel a hand. Just for the closeness, Eskel takes it, fully expecting to be led on to the third landing and his own room where they always end up without fail. Lambert isn’t only a sourpuss, he’s a private one, and his room is off-limits in a way that Geralt’s or any other isn’t. Being raised in groups and scattered to the wind, they all value their privacy, but Lambert is downright militant about it. So it comes as no little shock when Lambert pauses there, and then tugs Eskel toward his room.
Thankfully Eskel has had decades of practice on the Path and enough decency to keep his face from showing his surprise and curiosity. The room smells… good. Clean. Of brisk pine oil and mint. And it is clean, everything neat and orderly. A bomb is disassembled with care on the desk, a small hammer, leather mat, and tabletop brazier sitting nearby.
The door swishing closed pulls Eskel’s attention from the room back to Lambert. It’s so odd being here instead of upstairs, that Eskel is a little out of his element. He’s going to let Lambert lead here, because this is his space and Eskel isn’t quite sure where he fits in it, yet.
Without a word, Eskel watches Lambert walk in front of him, pausing between the bed and Eskel to look him full in the face, before turning his back on Eskel. And that’s a show of trust Eskel can appreciate. Frankly, so can his cock. It’s arousing to be given that in a world where Eskel gets so very little of it.
Lambert shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on the stalk of wood jutting from the bedpost clearly fitted for that sole purpose. The stiff leather holds the shape of his shoulders even after they’re gone, and it’s polished to the point it shines gold on black in the low light of the fireplace.
Toeing off his boots, Lambert pushes them towards the foot, neat, and Eskel is still surprised, though he shouldn’t be. Lambert has always been fastidious in the alchemy lab, even if he swears writing down recipes is for when he’s perfected them—and nothing is ever perfect in Lambert’s eyes.
With all the chaos that circles Lambert like a tornado, Eskel can understand his desire for a little bit of order. Just one place, or two, that he can count on.
The broad flex of Lambert’s shoulders shows when he takes off his shirt, still silently facing the bed, and for a moment Eskel is surprised again. He remembers Lambert thin and wily. The ratty kid Vesemir brought home one winter. He’s not though. He’s filled out and winter has had a chance to stick to his bones this year. It looks good on him, and Eskel secretly steals a squeeze at his cock—he can’t wait to have that body above him, bending him in ways no one ever thinks he should be able to bend at his size.
Lambert’s thumbs hook in his leathers, Eskel must have missed him loosening the ties, and slowly—too slowly, Eskel finds himself swallowing, eyes fixed to the spot—starts to push them to the floor. His thumbs brush the top of his braies, and for a brief moment Lambert seems to hesitate before leaving them, leather pushed past linen, baring his knees.
Eskel is chagrined. He wants to see Lambert’s ass naked. Wants to slap it and break this spell of silence, bringing them back to the simplicity of their usual casual fuck. But he can’t. Something about the way Lambert lets his shoulders drop slightly holds Eskel spellbound and then Lambert is stepping out of his leathers, pushing them to the side with his foot like he did his boots.
Which leaves Eskel fully clothed and somewhat unprepared when Lambert turns to lean his full weight up the length of Eskel’s body, one arm wrapping around his neck and the other hand turning Eskel’s jaw to where Lambert’s head rests on his shoulder. The kiss is long and soft. Lambert draws it out, pulling at Eskel’s lower lip and-
-Oh this is new.
They don’t kiss.
Or more correctly they haven’t. They could. They can. They are. Back when this started, Eskel had made an aborted effort once or twice, each deftly avoided by Lambert. After that, Eskel hasn’t pushed the point.
Oh, but now they are, and Lambert clearly wants it. Lambert is the one asking for it, and it makes Eskel’s slow heart beat harder. He finds himself wanting more of it. Lambert melts against him. Eskel lets a hand wander down his spine. So this is going to be different now. That could be alright, Eskel thinks. He likes this.
Lambert breaks for breath, but he doesn’t pull away, and Eskel is more than content to keep holding him, fingers tracing up and down Lambert’s spine. When Lambert speaks his voice is whisper soft, and Eskel finds his eyes open but looking away, further into the room.
“Does Daddy want to use my mouth or my ass?” It’s such a calmly whispered question it gives Eskel whiplash.
“Uhm…?” Excuse me?! Eskel wants to bark.
But he doesn’t, thank the gods.
He keeps it together. Lambert glances up at him once, familiar glare there and gone, then he’s gazing off in the distance again. Eskel reels his brain back in, and wishes for a way to do the same with his cock, his sudden confusion only ramping up his all-too-alert body. He doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck, flee, or fight. Literally all seem appropriate at the moment.
But he’s never felt Lambert this relaxed against him and the glossy look in his dark amber eyes is almost peaceful. Eskel can’t ruin that.
It’s not like Eskel’s never fucked around with a newfound fantasy before: he can be a downright kinky bastard in the right situation. It’s just that it’s never been like that with Lambert before, and this particular fantasy isn’t one he’s ever touched on—from either end. Eskel is quiet, not stupid, though. He can see why Lambert might want to go here, and if going here gets him more of this vulnerable side of Lambert? Well, Eskel, will try anything once.
“What does Daddy usually do?” Fuck, he sounds leagues more confidant than he is, but he’s hoping Lambert will give him a little guidance here.
“Daddy takes what he wants from me.” Lambert is still clinging to Eskel’s neck with one arm, but the other has dropped to pull the tunic from Eskel’s leathers, two fingers dipping behind his belt. They stay there unmoving, cold knuckles pressing into Eskel’s waist. “It’s alright if it hurts,” Lambert says, almost watery. “Daddy says it’s cause I have such a tight little hole.”
Eskel is still trying to decide how to respond to that when Lambert keeps talking, apparently the fact that Eskel hasn’t shoved him away yet—is in fact swaying a bit with Lambert in his arms—has convinced him he’s safe to elaborate on what he wants. What he needs.
“No one else uses it but Da-”
Tipping Lambert’s chin up, Eskel kisses him. He wants to give this to Lambert, even if he’s not exactly sure what ‘it’ entails yet. So Eskel kisses him long and sweet. Deep and proper, as if Lambert were his longest lover—which. Eskel pushes that thought from his mind. They weren’t really lovers before, more comrades who fucked when they both felt like it. This feels loverly though, and Eskel uses the time he spends debauching Lambert’s mouth to roll it all over in his mind.
It doesn’t take much thinking at all for Eskel to question if Lambert wants it to hurt, and if he’s willing to make it hurt. He hums against Lambert’s mouth and catches his eyes. For a moment Lambert’s gaze doesn’t skitter away from him, bottomless crevasses of desire edged in yellow topaz, before they close.
“Daddy’s got a thick cock.” Eskel husks. Lambert’s nods imperceptibly. It’s an understatement and the prime reason Lambert’s always given for why things are the way they are—or were. Not that Eskel minded, of course. “Does it have to hurt?” Lambert’s upturned face pinches at the question, his brow wrinkling and upper lip drawing up.
Eskel finds it incredibly endearing, but he also wants to kiss it away.
“Do you like it when it hurts?” Eskel thumbs at the frown on Lambert’s brow and finally gives into the urge to kiss his upper lip. It’s chaste compared to those that came before it.
“I- yeah. Daddy’s never done anything-” Lambert’s swallow would have been audible to anyone, let alone Eskel, and he can tell he’s pushing something hard. He kisses down Lambert’s jaw, along the roughness of his beard, and mouths at his jugular.
“Shh. It’s alright. Let Daddy do what he wants, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The relief in Lambert’s voice sends shivers up Eskel’s spine.
He did that. He made it better, took the worry right out of Lambert’s hands, and now Eskel’s head is filling with fantasies of how many other things he can do for Lambert as fast as his cock is filling with blood. He doesn’t allow himself to stop and think about anyone else having played Daddy to Lambert, or how they gave Lambert the pain he thinks he deserved. He’s gonna make Lambert cry, but not from pain.
“Be a good boy for me and help me with my pants.”
Without any hesitation Lambert drops his other arm, and his eyes, to Eskel’s crotch. First loosening the belt, and then Eskel’s codpiece, he opens it enough to get at Eskel’s braies. With enough fiddling Lambert gets those loose enough too, and Eskel merely lets him work, he clearly knows what he wants. Eskel sighs, a warm pleased sound, when Lambert dips his hand into the linen and cups him at the base. He’s far too big for the whole of him to fit in Lambert’s hand, and Lambert stands stock still for a moment while Eskel counts his pulse against the bare skin of Lambert’s wrist.
Wordlessly, Lambert follows Eskel’s shaft up, freeing the head before scrunching his braies down and tucking them under Eskel’s sac. Then without prompt Lambert goes to his knees, hands held tightly together in front of his own crotch, and looks up at Eskel with the thirst of a man in the desert.
“Please?”
Eskel’s cock flexes at the sight, the sound, of Lambert so meek.
Trying to thread his fingers through Lambert’s hair, it’s stiff with oil, and Eskel thinks next time he will tell Lambert to bathe and wash it first. Then he can feel the boyish softness of it, and get a better hold. Still, he lets the spread of his fingers grasp Lambert’s skull on both sides, urging his head forward.
“Mmm, take it slow. I want to enjoy it.” There is literally nothing Lambert could do to Eskel’s cock with his mouth right now that Eskel would not enjoy, but Eskel is going to play this part for Lambert. Then he’s going to break Lambert apart telling him how good he is at his own role. Because Eskel is certain no man has ever given Lambert the dignity of that kind of praise.
Not that Eskel hasn’t been telling Lambert for years that he’s good in the sack. It’s just never quite been able to pierce his prickly armor.
Lambert’s got no armor on right now though.
The pleasure is intense, the first lick of Lambert’s tongue raising prickles on Eskel’s skin. Like Eskel told him to, Lambert isn’t rushing, lips ghosting around the crown of Eskel’s cock and tongue licking at his slit.
Eskel has to force control over his body not to jerk his hips. It’s blindingly good.
Lambert keeps his mouth light, barely closing his lips. Little by little he explores with his tongue. Swirling it around the head and flattening it to lap underneath Eskel’s cock like he’s some kind of sweet treat. All the while, Lambert is breathing heavily, hot gusts rushing over Eskel’s shaft and pushing out from the loose ring of Lambert’s lips. Eskel tries to concentrate on that, making every attempt to hold down the growing urge to rock into it.
Finally, Lambert closes his lips tightly and truly sucks. Tongue underneath Eskel’s cock pushing it up against his palate as he withdraws, Lambert traces the tip of Eskel’s cock when it’s all that’s left inside.
Flexing his fingers, Eskel sighs. “Fuck. Such a good mouth on you.” It’s almost unconscious the way his fingers press Lambert’s skull forward again. The whine is high-pitched but barely audible as Lambert follows his direction, and then that hot mouth is sucking on Eskel again.
Pulling him in just a little deeper this time. Lambert’s tongue dances along Eskel’s shaft, prodding at the veins. Eskel can feel him breathe, the gentle rise and fall of Lambert’s whole body as he seeks air through his nose. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes, but suddenly he’s afraid of missing anything, and Eskel fixes his eyes on Lambert’s face. It’s obscene the way Lambert’s cheeks hollow and lips cling to Eskel’s shaft as he pulls back and rolls his hips forward further this time.
Lambert gags. Eyes blinking. Fists white on his thighs. There are no tears though, and Lambert swallows around Eskel, staring him right in the eyes.
With a throb, Eskel feels himself leak in Lambert’s mouth, triggering another convulsive swallow, and he can’t help himself because Lambert isn’t pulling away.
“That’s it.” Eskel presses the head of his cock against the back of Lambert’s throat and there’s that gag again. It makes his balls ache. “Good boy. You doing so good. So-”Another push. This one lasts a little longer. “-Good.” Lambert is blinking rapidly, but there are still no tears. Eskel’s own throat sounds stretched out when he orders Lambert to swallow and his head pops past the constriction. In a shivery rush, he slides all the way in. Pushing Lambert’s nose to his groin, Eskel lodges himself in Lambert’s throat and watches him shake.
“Oh Fuck.” Eskel’s whole body pulses in one hard throb of pleasure that curls him over Lambert’s head. “Gonna make me come-” And just like that, Eskel is pulling out, cock slipping along the top of Lambert’s tongue as his mouth hangs open. Unresisting. Willing to let Eskel do whatever he wants with it.
Squatting down to get his hands under Lambert’s armpits, Eskel hauls him up onto his feet. Wet cock burning against Lambert’s lower stomach, Eskel crushes Lambert against himself. Gripping the back of Lambert’s head with his whole hand, Eskel forces it back and to the side so he can suck at Lambert’s neck. They don’t usually leave marks, least of all where people can see them, but Lambert’s whimpering in the best way under Eskel’s mouth.
Working his hand between braies and skin, Eskel cups the curve of Lambert's ass in his hand and massages it. If his fingers skim along the dip between cheeks as he works his way to the other one, he can't help himself
“Fuck.” It’s all Eskel can say for a moment, pressing a kiss the red dots raising under his lips. “The mouth on you.”
“Was I-“
“Such a good boy for me.” Eskel cuts Lambert off before he can finish doubting himself. The ties only take a moment and Lambert's braies are on the floor.
“On the bed.” Eskel turns Lambert around and sends him reeling towards it, his hands landing hard on the mattress. Lambert hardly seems to care, eager to please.
Eskel can’t get his tunic over his head fast enough, unwilling to lose sight of Lambert’s pert ass crawling away across the bed, soft sac hanging between lightly furred thighs. Hopping on one foot, then the other, he peels his boots off. His leather pants get shoved down to his ankles without his eyes ever leaving the sight. Lambert is hugging a pillow to his chest, his cheek pressed into it and his face turned away from Eskel. Eskel is sure those eyes are blown wide and far away even without being able to see them—it’s the looseness in Lambert’s shoulders that tells him.
Finally, daring to look down, Eskel realizes that he’s made a mess all around himself. A boot is overturned, his pants are at his feet as are Lambert's braies. His shirt is several feet away. Compared to the care with which Lambert had disrobed, the floor looks desecrated. As much as Eskel is dying to get his skin on Lambert’s, he can’t just leave this. It feels unfair to Lambert after he has shared his space with Eskel.
Lambert whines on the bed, rocking his hips side to side. The motion travels down his thighs and Eskel grabs the base of his cock, squeezing it hard to stave off the inevitable.
“Daddy’s here. Just a moment to set things straight.” Quickly gathering his things Eskel adds the clothing to the pile Lambert had made and lines his boots up next to Lambert’s at the bottom of the bed.
The mattress dips with his knee when Eskel kneels onto it, and he reaches out to skate a hand up Lambert’s calf. It buys him time. Time to think about what he wants to do for Lambert, and what Lambert likely wants done to him. Time to slow down his raging arousal and simply appreciate Lambert.
“Gorgeous boy.” Lambert doesn’t move a muscle, but Eskel thinks he’s content. Sitting on his hip, Eskel supports himself on one elbow and explores with the other hand. Up the back of Lambert’s knee, Eskel gives the meat of Lambert’s thigh a few firm squeezes. Then he slides his fingers between Lambert’s barely spread legs teasing the soft hair there. His fingers scratch light swirls in it until they brush against Lambert’s sac.
“Spread your legs for Daddy.” Eskel works hard not to make it a question and is gratified by Lambert’s instant obedience—cocking his knees up to splay himself open for Eskel with a soft whimper. Whether it’s baring himself like this, or the way the motion rubs his cock on the sheets, Eskel can’t tell. The sound still goes straight to his gut regardless of what prompted it. Eskel needs more of that noise from Lambert and he is determined to wring it out of him.
Eskel takes up the space Lambert has made for him, rolling onto his knees and sitting on his heels there. Hands where Lambert’s ass meets his thigh, Eskel’s brushes his thumbs up and down along the crease of thighs and everything in between them. It shifts Lambert’s sac and he tries to raise his ass into it. Eskel doesn’t chastise him for it, just lets him rut back and forth between his cock on the sheets and Eskel’s thumbs temptingly close to where he wants them. All the while, Eskel drinks in the breathy whimpers growing faster, deeper—needier.
“Daddy-“ Lambert’s cry startles Eskel out of his reverie.
“I got you.” Pushing his hands up, Eskel lets his weight sink through his arms and open Lambert up to his gaze. “Fuck. Look at you. Is that the tight hole you keep just for Daddy?” The filth falls from Eskel’s mouth easy now.
“Yeah-” It sounds like Lambert’s choking on the word. “-Daddy’s. Yours.” The last words is different somehow. More clear.
“Shh. Let me look.” Eskel hushes Lambert and watches his dusky furl wink at his words. It’s enthralling to have that power just with his mouth, and he wants to show Lambert another power it has.
Without warning Eskel brings his face between his hands and licks the flat of his tongue over that tight knot. Lambert’s hole clenches on his tongue just as Lambert shouts. It’s an indistinct noise, but it’s loud. Lambert’s hips try to jerk away, but the weight on Eskel’s hands pins him in place.
“Daddy?” The question in Lambert’s voice twists in Eskel’s gut and he pulls his mouth back only as far as he needs to answer.
“Gonna take care of this pretty hole.” Eskel places a soft kiss on the side of Lambert’s ass cheek near the valley where his mouth has just been. “Loosen it up. Make it feel good. Good boy like you deserves to feel good.” Lambert is quiet through it all, only the sound of his heavy panting and persistent patter of his heart whooshing in Eskel’s ears. He dips his right hand in to rub at Lambert’s hole and it earns him a backward push of Lambert’s hips.
“It’ll still be a tight fit.” The wheels in Eskel’s head are spinning fifty leagues a moment trying balance Lambert’s cry for punishment with his own need to show Lambert care. He presses against Lambert’s hole, careful not to enter but threatening it, and listens to Lambert keen. Eskel thinks he knows where the line is for them here. “Daddy knows what you need, and you need this. You need Daddy’s cock—filling you up, stretching you out. I’m gonna make room for myself in that tight little hole of yours and you’re such a good boy, you’re gonna let me do it. You’re gonna let me use you the way I want to, and I wanna taste you.”
Lambert makes the most plaintive noise and pulls his legs up higher, turning his face straight down into the pillow. It makes Eskel’s cock leak between his belly and thighs. Fuck it’s—everything.
Lambert mumbles something into the pillow.
“What was that?”
“It’s yours.” Lambert’s body tenses slightly as he tilts his forehead down and brings his only his mouth clear of the pillow to speak. The moment the words leave his mouth though, his face flops back into the pillow and everything goes lax.
Eskel’s jaw hangs open for a moment, processing. His breath ghosts along Lambert’s ass. “Thank you. For giving it to me.” It comes out without thought and it feels like the most natural thing he’s said since he was pulled into Lambert’s room. The gravity of what he’s being trusted with settles into his gut like a hot knife on butter.
A few more circles around Lambert’s hole with the pad of his index finger and Eskel pulls him open again. He breathes over Lambert’s hole and then licks at it. Broad strokes that cover the entire thing and leave Lambert struggling to stay still. He kisses the tender patch of skin between hole and sac, then mouths at Lambert’s balls. Sucking one in his mouth, Eskel pulls it away from Lambert’s body until it pops free. A grunt is muffled in the pillow.
Eskel nips at Lambert’s taint, and one of Lambert’s hands flails on the sheets, grasping wildly as he whimpers. Then he gets back to his goal. Sucking and licking. Pointing his tongue, Eskel chases Lambert’s hips up the bed working it inside. Lambert’s cock is left pointing down and Eskel takes advantage. Giving up some of the openness of Lambert’s ass, Eskel takes hold of him with a hand and strokes the hot length slowly.
It has Lambert rocking between Eskel’s hand and his mouth—fucking himself on Eskel’s tongue.
When he finally stops, spreading Lambert’s cheeks reveals a soft hole, reddened from Eskel’s work and gently swollen.
Eskel whispers under his breath, mostly to himself, “Beautiful.”
Reaching in with the side of his thumb, Eskel runs it over the Lambert’s hole. It’s hot and puffy, wet from his saliva, and Eskel thinks he might hear an honest to gods sob smothered in the pillow.
“Is this what you need?” The hole engulfs Eskel’s thumb up to the base when he sinks it in.
“Yes-” Lambert’s turns his face towards the room and gulps air. “-yes.” His thigh shakes with effort, rim squeezing Eskel’s thumb. “Yes.” His labored breath draws Eskel’s attention away from the site in front of him to Lambert’s glassy gaze.
Stroking his thumb along Lambert’s inner wall, Eskel is entranced. “Yeah?”
“Please Daddy…”
Caught between those needy words and the hot clutch of Lambert’s ass, Eskel is dripping on his own thighs. He needs oil and he needs it now, because if he doesn’t get his cock in Lambert he’s sure they’re both going to die.
“Alright,” Eskel says to Lambert as he fucks his thumb in and out once, seeking out and nudging Lambert’s sweet spot.
Lambert yelps, his legs jerking as he rides down on the pleasure.
“Alright…” Eskel mumbles again, this time to himself, as he watches Lambert’s hole let go of him and leans over to ransack the the top drawer of the bedside dresser.
There’s a dagger, a Cat, a Swallow, a well-worn leatherback book—and finally a pot of what a sniff confirms is tallow. Eskel takes a fingerful and smears it on his cock, stroking it to spread it around. Then he takes another and caps the pot, leaving the drawer ajar. He’s back to Lambert as fast as he can be, holding one cheek to the side and wiping the tallow off on Lambert’s hole.
Eskel rubs it firmly into Lambert’s rim with the pads of two fingers. The whines it churns out of Lambert are unbelievable. He hopes he’s the only one who’s ever heard them. There’s no preamble, Eskel fills him to the knuckles with both fingers as soon as he's slick enough. Fucks them through the spasm and tugs at Lambert’s rim until it too seems to give.
“Good boy,” he practically coos, shuffling up and planting his hand next to Lambert’s shoulder. “Hold yourself open for Daddy.”
Lambert doesn’t need to be asked twice. Eskel is too busy watching his face to look at Lambert’s hole, but he can feel the spongy, sticky grip of it catching on his cockhead when he grips himself and rubs it between Lambert’s cheeks. He pauses, angling his cock right at the soft center.
“You want Daddy’s cock?”
Lambert nods furiously, eyelids low and mouth hanging open.
“It’s big.”
“Want it.” Lambert pants, openly sharing his need with Eskel. Eskel can’t help but suck a kiss into the edge of Lambert’s jaw.
“Then be a good boy and take a deep breath.” Running his nose along Lambert’s cheek to his ear as he speaks, Eskel waits for it. The moment Lambert sucks in a lungful of air Eskel lowers his hips. Pressure blooms over the crown of his cock and Lambert’s body starts to give, that incredible heat inside of him opening up the slightest bit to greet Eskel.
Lambert chokes up, and Eskel retreats. But only for a moment. Then he’s right back, a heavy pressure bullying Lambert’s body into submission.
“Let me in.” Eskel whispers in Lambert’s ear. That’s all it takes. With a sudden cry Lambert’s hole surrenders and, Eskel is buried a third of the way in before he can come to a halt.
“Daddy, Daddy, daddy.” The name rushes out of Lambert like a chant. His gut is frantically clenching around Eskel and Eskel strokes a hand up Lambert’s flank, making a noise that is half humming, half moan, while he let’s Lambert adjust to his girth.
“It’s alright. You can take it.” Eskel murmurs praise in Lambert’s ear. “Feels so good, Daddy’s good boy. Just breathe through it. That’s it.”
Eskel knows Lambert is ready when he cants his ass back against Eskel. It shifts Eskel the slightest bit inside him and Lambert sighs.
He wants to keep it slow, he really does. But gods, Lambert is insatiable and Eskel’s been on edge since he was in Lambert’s throat. Lambert squirms underneath him, and Eskel wraps his left arm under and around Lambert’s chest to contain him. Soon his other hand has wound under Lambert’s hip and is splayed over his belly, hauling him back on each thrust.
Eskel fills him to the brim. Lambert sounds like he’s being stabbed—like its the best bliss he’s ever been in. Still he tries to wriggle, but his efforts are half-hearted and half the time he’s throwing himself back on Eskel’s cock as much as he is clawing himself away from it.
Half turned on their sides, Lambert paints the sheets sticky white, the heel of Eskel’s hand grinding into his gut above his cock and not a hand on it. His hands are too busy grasping at Eskel’s thick forearm where it makes a bar across Lambert’s collarbone and swallowing reflexively under the hand Eskel holds on his throat.
After that Eskel is lost. The fading waves of Lambert’s orgasm milk him through a blind ecstasy as he puts Lambert face down on the bed again and pulls his hips up to chase it. The slap of hips on ass. His sac swinging into Lambert’s. The shock of painful pleasure it brings with it. It all sends Eskel past the point of no return. He doesn’t even think about if Lambert wants him cumming in his ass, just buries his cock as deep as he can get it, grinding against Lambert’s hole and emptying himself with a breathless grunt.
Eskel kneels there for a moment, staring at where his cock is still throbbing in Lambert’s loose hole with the dregs of his orgasm. Only Eskel’s hands on his hips keep Lambert up on his knees, his chest is flat with the bed, arms spread out to either side. Lambert’s whole torso expands and deflates with slow deep breaths. He looks on the brink of sleep.
With a groan Eskel leans and rolls the soiled blanket away, then tips them on their side. It finally dislodges his deflated cock and they groan in unison. Tucking his knees up behind Lambert’s Eskel doesn’t bother to clean them up. He came so far up in Lambert it’s going to take a while to work it’s way out, and the tallow will still be sticky in the morning. Lambert curls his hands over Eskel’s forearm again when Eskel pulls him close and Eskel wants to tell him that he thinks he loves him, but he doesn’t dare.
Instead he kisses the back of Lambert’s neck.
Maybe he should go. Lambert’s never invited anyone into his space before and Eskel doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. The thought that he might be gnaws at Eskel’s heart.
The room is silent as a grave, and in the distance an owl makes itself known. Lambert stirs at that. Eskel can’t stand it.
“You wanna talk about it?” Maybe this was just a one time thing, Lambert getting something out of his system. If it is, Eskel can deal with that. He won’t like it, but he can handle it. He will have to.
“Fuck no.” Lambert’s head swivels to look at Eskel like he’s lost his marbles and his bullocks both. “Go to sleep.” Lambert turns back around and rubs his face against Eskel’s arm, getting comfortable again. “And you better not fucking run.”
Oh.
Oh. Eskel can deal with that. He kisses the back of Lambert’s neck again and closes his eyes.