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Ironeye was slowly losing it.
The worst part? Wylder didn't even realize the effect he was having on the assassin.
Ironeye prided himself in being able to control his emotions, to suppress them and get the job done, no matter the cost. His physical well-being was inconsequential, and he long became desensitized to things that would make the other Nightfarers squirm.
Who knew his breaking point would be Wylder training shirtless.
Raider invited the swordsman to test his strength with him against the stones of the shores. Wylder must have gotten hot beneath his armor. It had taken time for him to get comfortable enough to show his face, so it was a pleasant surprise when the helm came off as they trained.
And an even better surprise when he started stripping parts of his armor.
Including his shirt.
Ironeye watched from his rocky perch, bow in hand but long forgotten compared to the feast before his keen eyes.
Wylder left his gloves on, but his chest was on full display, shining in the mid day sun due to the sweat of his exertion. Each heavy pec, decorated with a light dusting of blond hair, bulged and flexed as Wylder's chosen stone was lifted and dropped. His nipples were perky with the cool sea breeze hitting them, just begging Ironeye to bite, pinch and suck at them. His abs trickled with sweat, and if Ironeye concentrated he could see the way a stray drop traveled downwards along the path of his happy trail, the blond hair disappearing into the band of his trousers.
And his arms. Those gorgeous biceps flexed and veins popped with the motions. Ironeye was tempted to pin him down and have his way with him. But alas, he had to hold on to his self control. The swordsman prided himself in being a well rounded warrior, and Ironeye could use a bit of training himself. Hence why he was testing the elasticity of his bow, letting his muscles stretch with the motions.
Or at least, he had been. Up until Wylder's shirt came off.
It was rare that Ironeye was warm, but the arousal pooling in his gut was enough to heat up his undead body. If he touched the swordsman now, would his sweat cool him down? Or heat him up even more? Ironeye tightened his hold on his bow, imagining with clarity how that firm and gorgeous chest would feel under his touch.
His palms tingled with the thought, temptation rising. He had to focus, though. It was the middle of the day and they could be called on an expedition at any time now. He could wait. He was disciplined enough not to let the temptation of a single swordsman break his composure, no matter how much he throbbed in his pants. He was an assassin for crying out loud, a professional mercenary. The best of the best. He didn't bend in the face of lust-
Wylder dropped his stone to the ground with a huff, running a gloved hand through sweaty blond hair and walking over to the edge of the water. Ironeye didn't need to breathe, but his breath still caught as Wylder bent to cup water in his palms, splashing it on his face. Ironeye's hold tightened even more on his bow, the specialized weapon creaking under the strain.
He could see the droplets of water run down the swordsman. His back was to him now, but it was no less tempting to watch the water mix with the swordsman's sweat and trail down those gorgeous muscles to the hem of his pants.
Ironeye needed him.
Desperately.
He slipped his bow to the place on his back. Just as he was about to make his way to the swordsman, however, a soothing voice spoke behind him. “Care for some tea before we start our session?”
Scholar.
Ironeye was so distracted the academic swordsman actually managed to slip passed his senses. Ironeye shot a wistful look towards Wylder again. The swordsman had his head turned to their direction, back in his spot with the stone in front of him, watching in open curiosity. He must have sensed Scholar’s approach.
Ironeye really needed to get a grip.
Right, he offered to help the albinauric create some medicinal boluses. He was pretty skilled in arcane, and his poison recipe was one passed through the Fellowship. He couldn't share it, but he could share some of the knowledge he gained in his travels.
“I'll catch up in a moment.” Ironeye tried not so sound too dismissive. Scholar nodded, sparing the two at the shore a brief wave, before turning and climbing the balcony that lead to the chapel turned research room.
Again, temptation went through him as Wylder gave him a shy smile. He could always cancel with Scholar and drag Wylder to one of their rooms.
But it was rare for Wylder to be in such a good mood, and even rarer for him to do things with the others outside of sparring or expeditions. He would have to swallow his temptation and wait.
Ironeye gave Wylder a nod, and Raider past him a half hearted wave. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he turned and followed the path Scholar took inside. He didn't miss the soft look on the swordsman's features as he left. If only Wylder knew for sure the direction of his thoughts.
But for now, he would have to push it all back and help Scholar as promised.
It was several hours later when he was blinking away the pleasant surprise of sleep. It was dark, and a warm, heavy weight was laid over his waist. A warm body was behind him, chest pressed against his back, hips slotted together, legs tangled. Light, soft breaths tickled the back of his neck, even, signifying sleep. His hood, mask and boots were off. In fact, it seemed he was expertly stripped and laid in only his shirt and trousers.
Wylder must have snuck into his room. It was a surprise he didn't wake up to the disturbance. Then again, he always felt safe with Wylder. He knew how protective the swordsman was, and how keen his instincts were. A sentiment shared; he'd do anything for the nomadic warrior.
He tried to recall what happened. Last he remembered, he was helping Scholar with a new sleep potion mixture. The one prior had no effect on him, and the albinauric was determined to create a more potent mixture. Scholar had boluses ready, but the ailment built so quickly, he must have passed out before he could take it. It would also explain why he didn't stir when Wylder stripped him of his armor.
Warmth stirred in his gut, and he tried to force it away, hesitant to wake up the swordsman. Ironeye allowed himself to drift off into a state between sleep and alertness. He would enjoy Wylder's warmth while he could. And hopefully the nightmares wouldn't wake him up.
But the warmth in his gut wouldn't subside. The image of Wylder's chest glistening in the sun was etched into the back if his eyelids. He resisted the urge to squirm, his body seeking to rub against the tempting warmth behind him. He wanted to groan. He was a grown man, there was no reason his body should be acting like a hormonal teenager.
Belatedly, he knew why. Most of his emotions and hormones were suppressed or kept in check during his youth. Now that he had someone deemed “safe,” it was like his mind and body were allowing him to experience what he missed prior.
He knew for the swordsman it was something similar. Those softer instincts suppressed until he felt safe and loved enough to act on them. It hadn't crossed either of their minds until they met each other. Until their mutual warmth and infatuation with each other was undeniable, spilling over in everything they did.
He must have been lost in thought for a moment too long. Again, he'd blame that it was because he was with Wylder that his instincts were so muddled. The arm around him squeezed, signifying the swordsman awoke from his sleep.
A nose nuzzled into the back of his neck, inhaling deeply. Ironeye hummed softly at the motion. He still felt a bit groggy, but he gathered the strength to ask. “How long have I been out?”
“Too long,” was the answer that came from behind him in Wylder's soft and sleep husky voice. The warmth blazed and Ironeye fought to wrangle it in. His internal clock did sense that it was late.
“The potion worked better than expected. I'm sure Scholar must be pleased.”
A guilty silence answered him.
The warmth that went through him again was much softer in nature. “How bad?”
“…He told me you passed out and I couldn't think straight.”
“How bad did you freak out at him, Wylder?” His voice was more amused than chastising.
“…He still has all of his limbs. I was more worried about you. You weren't waking up and…I didn't know if you were okay. You don't breathe nor do you have a heartbeat.”
Ironeye turned in the grip to face the swordsman. Despite the moonlight being the only source of light, the worry was clear in those green eyes. So sweet, his swordsman was. He cupped the knight's cheek, motion tender as his keen eyes grazed downwards and his breath caught.
Wylder was still shirtless.
He could feel the warmth radiating from those gorgeous pecs seep into his own chest. By the centipede, he needed Wylder. He craved to caress his strong chest and arms, to watch them flex as he took the swordsman. He almost forgot about the swordsman's worry until a chuckle rumbled out of that gorgeous chest.
“I suppose I worried for nothing.” Wylder's hands slid lower, and he pulled the assassin's hips in as he gave a tantalizing roll of his own. Ironeye moaned embarrassingly loud, already hard and yearning.
Worry forgotten, Ironeye followed the next roll of the swordsman's hips, pulling him in for a desperate kiss and swallowing the knight's whine.
Despite the swordsman's growing arousal, there was still tension in Wylder's shoulders. Ironeye couldn't have that. He couldn't wait. But he would have to ease Wylder's nerves first.
He pulled away from the kiss, panting into Wylder’s mouth. The swordsman was in a similar state, green eyes growing hazy and a pink tinge reaching his cheeks. He gently caressed Wylder’s cheek with his thumb, making sure to look the swordsman in the eyes. “I'm okay. It was just a sleep potion. If anything, it's my fault for drinking the whole thing against Scholar’s advice.”
Wylder swallowed and nodded, and that tension finally eased. Ironeye smirked coyly as an idea formed. He pressed a gentle kiss to the swordsman's lips before maneuvering them so Wylder was on his back. He climbed over him quickly, sitting on his hips as Wylder loosely held him by the waist, excitement going through him as he finally finally had that beautiful chest at his mercy.
His hands gently grazed down Wylder's chest, slowly letting his calloused fingertips trace the contours of his muscles until he was brushing them against the swordsman's sides. Wylder shuddered under his touch, panting with need as Ironeye worked him up. Ironeye repeated the motion, with his nails raking down that wonderful chest. Wylder moaned softly, bucking up gently beneath him.
Wylder was hard underneath his hips. Tempting, but Ironeye had his goal in his hands. He was going to take his time with Wylder and what he had been craving for so long. He was going to take him apart and have his fill at his leisure. He had been patient enough, after all.
Those gorgeous eyes fluttered closed as Ironeye took a perky nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, gently rubbing. Wylder's soft gasps eventually grew to gentle moans as Ironeye pinched and rubbed the nub, before moving to the next one to give it the same treatment.
Ironeye took his time pinching and rubbing at the other nub, leaning in to lick at the first one as it looked lonely and neglected. Wylder shuddered below him, moans growing louder as he squirmed at the treatment.
Ironeye hummed as he allowed himself to have his fill, swirling his tongue over the nub in his mouth and pinching his fingers over the other one in his fingers at the same time. Wylder's reactions, those sweet moans and squirming, only spurred him on. It made him want to be even more greedy with the beautiful chest below him.
Wylder was slowly flushing from his cheeks and down his chest, as he did when he was aroused. Ironeye knew his body well enough to tell he was steadily getting close to completion. He wondered idly, raking his fingernail over Wylder's hardened nub and earning a bitten off moan, if he could get the swordsman to finish just like this. A challenge to himself, and one he would enjoy immensely.
Ironeye released the nub he was licking and sucking at with a pop, giving Wylder a chance to collect himself. He ran both his hands down those impressive valley of muscles, just to feel them under his fingertips. He gently traced his hands until they were holding Wylder's waist, then he dug his nails in, leaving the indents in Wylder’s skin. A possessive mark of his love.
Wylder made a punched out sound between a moan and a curse. The hands on his own waist tightened in response, Wylder's hips thrusting up to seek friction. Gorgeous, but Ironeye had another idea.
It was a shame to pull his hands away and leave the warmth of Wylder's chest, but he did so, instead gently pulling at the hands on his waist. Wylder released him easily, curious as Ironeye pinned them to the bed, resting them by Wylder's head. Wylder's biceps bulged with the motion and pose, and Ironeye pressed against the swordsman's wrists firmly.
“Be good. Stay just like that for me.”
Wylder swallowed harshly, nodding in agreement. Sure enough, when Ironeye released him, the hands stayed limp by the swordsman's head.
“Good boy.”
Ironeye pressed his hands to those pecs again, feeling the answering shudder from the man below him. With Wylder laying so obediently, Ironeye allowed himself to continue greedily indulge. He raked his nails over those beautiful muscles, watching as he left red lines in his wake. He rubbed and pinched at Wylder's perky nipples with his fingers. He fondled and squeezed those heavy pecs, pushing them together and massaging them. All the while Wylder whined below him, squirming and arching up into the touch. But his hands stayed obediently on the bed.
A thought went through his head as he squeezed those gorgeous pecs together, creating a tempting line of cleavage. He wondered briefly, how it would feel to rub his cock between the folds of Wylder's pecs. would it be as warm as the swordsman was? As delicious as his hole felt?
Ironeye hummed as he pushed the thought aside. Later. Right now he had a different goal in mind. He released those wonderful pecs to resume pinching at one of Wylder's nipples, raking the other hand's nails over the valley of his abs and stomach. Wylder shuddered harshly, biting back a moan and flushing harder.
“Getting close?” Ironeye cooed teasingly. Wylder nodded enthusiastically, thrusting his hips up as if to prove his point. Cute, but Ironeye could feel just how hard the swordsman was underneath him.
Teasingly, he rolled his hips, moaning softly as their hard, clothed cocks rubbed against each other. Wylder moaned loudly, fisting his hands into the sheets and pillow under his palms, trying to seek the friction again. But Ironeye made a displeased noise and the swordsman was freezing with a pathetic whine.
“Later,” Ironeye promised softly. “I want to enjoy you first. I've been craving you all day. Be good for me, Wylder.”
“Please,” Wylder begged softly. The soft pleading was music to Ironeye's ears. It never failed to get him high on pleasure. His strong, brave swordsman, reduced to a whimpering, begging mess. It was a pleasure like no other.
Ironeye pressed a quick kiss to the swordsman's lips, “Soon. Just be patient.”
Wylder nodded, and Ironeye rewarded him with another chaste kiss. Then he resumed his ministrations. He clawed at Wylder's sides as he mouthed sloppy kisses down his stomach and abs, he bit and sucked on those gorgeous pecs, he pinched at one of those perky nubs, he languidly sucked on the other one, relishing in the way Wylder moaned and squirmed. Then Wylder's moans started getting louder. Ironeye doubled his efforts, gently caressing the skin of his waist and hips, trailing his nails over the reddened skin, before returning one hand to Wylder's nipple and pinching harshly as he sucked on the other one.
“Ironeye-"
Ironeye shushed him with a devious roll of his hips, turning whatever warning the swordsman would give into a punched out moan. He knew Wylder was close with how he was trembling now, and he wanted him to finish just like this. From Ironeye playing with his chest. He wanted to watch him fall apart.
Ironeye only had to continue for a moment more before Wylder's hips thrust up and he moaned harshly, eyes watering and shutting, his face scrunched as it did whenever he peaked. Ironeye released him, glancing down and sure enough, his pants were soiled where his cock was still trapped, still hard and now wet with his seed.
The grin that spread across his face was most definitely devious, proudly satisfied with his achievements. Wylder squirmed below him as he leaned down to press gentle kisses to the swordsman's face. Sweet, green eyes blinked up at him, embarrassed but not enough to overpower the want. Ironeye would have to make the embarrassment go away completely.
“Good boy.”
Wylder whined at the words, clearly ready to continue. Ironeye couldn't help but chuckle.
“So eager for me. You want me so badly you couldn't help but finish in your pants, could you? And all I did was play a little with your chest.”
Wylder nodded at the teasing, unclenching his fists from the tight hold he had on the pillow.
“Can I…?”
Ironeye nodded, and Wylder was soon wrapping his arms over his shoulders and pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Ironeye hummed softly as Wylder's tongue pushed into his mouth, greedily pressing against his own tongue and tasting him.
They eventually broke the kiss, and Wylder gave him a soft smirk. “I knew you were watching. Back at the shore.”
Ironeye felt his blood sing at the admission, desire coursing through him. Wylder's smirk widened.
“I was rather disappointed when you chose to go with Scholar instead of bringing me to one of our quarters. Was I not tempting enough?”
Ironeye's grip on his hips tightened. Rare it was that Wylder teased him instead of the other way around, and it never failed to get him excited. Wylder was much more direct in his want and desire for him, so to know the swordsman had purposely made him lose his mind to temptation was a wonderful surprise.
“Trust me,” Ironeye purred lowly, rolling his hips against the swordsman's and earning a low moan, “I almost gave into that temptation. Almost snatched you away from Raider to have my filthy way with you. Almost took you right there, so the others could see you're mine.” Wylder moaned at the words, rolling his hips slowly against Ironeye’s, who continued at a leisure pace, just to wind the swordsman up more. Then he stopped, smirking at the frustrated moan Wylder let out.
“But it seems waiting has made the reward all the more sweet. And it's presented wonderful ideas.”
Wylder looked at him curiously at the statement. Ironeye took a moment to shuffle out of his pants, humming softly as Wylder's hands immediately went to squeeze at his ass. Ironeye let him indulge for a moment before shuffling forward so he was sitting on Wylder’s chest, the swordsman's grip steady on his thighs. Then he squeezed together Wylder's pecs, creating a crevice of cleavage.
“I want to pleasure myself like this, with your chest. Hold them for me.”
Wylder obeyed, quickly replacing Ironeye's hands with his. There was a light sheen of sweat on Wylder’s chest from his earlier orgasm, chest still red as pleasure coursed through him. Ironeye lined himself up with the opening of Wylder’s cleavage and gently rocked into it. He shuddered as his cock was surrounded by Wylder’s delicious warmth, rubbing against his chest.
It was different than using his hand, but still plenty pleasurable. Wylder watched him hungrily as Ironeye thrust gently between his pecs. Ironeye was sure if he let himself, he could finish just like this, rubbing himself over Wylder's chest.
As if reading his mind, Wylder shuddered below him. “Finish like this. I want you to spill on me. Please?”
How could Ironeye deny him when Wylder's green eyes were looking at him so pleadingly? So hungrily?
Ironeye nodded, moaning softly as he began to thrust in earnest. Wylder's sweat and his pre steadily leaking made the slide all the more easy. Wylder panted below him in anticipation, eyes going glossy with desire. It made his blood burn, need taking over.
“I want to smell like you,” Wylder moaned from below him, encouraging. “Want to taste you. Please Ironeye. Need you.”
Ironeye shuddered as he felt his peak wash over him, spilling between those gorgeous pecs and soiling the man below him. Wylder moaned as he watched, waiting patiently for Ironeye to work himself through it with a low moan of his own.
Wylder released himself to run a finger through the mess Ironeye made on his chest and neck, bringing the finger to his mouth and sucking the spend off with a soft moan. Ironeye watched hungrily, gripping Wylder's blond hair tightly and keeping his head angled so he could take him in with keen eyes.
“Good boy,” Ironeye praised lowly, running his hand through the mess to collect the rest. He presented his fingers to Wylder, who pulled his own finger out with a pop. “Be good. Clean yourself up.”
Wylder obeyed eagerly, tongue peeking out in a teasing manner as he opened his mouth and allowed Ironeye to push his fingers inside, warm hand wrapping around his wrist to keep it there. Ironeye could feel the wet appendage greedily lick and suck off all of his spend from his fingers. All the while, Wylder made sure to keep their hungry gazes locked. Ironeye shuddered, wiggling his fingers in Wylder’s mouth. The swordsman obeyed the silent command, opening his mouth and releasing his tight grip, allowing Ironeye to pull out his now spit-soaked fingers, a string of saliva forming and snapping.
“Beautiful,” Ironeye whispered in awe, need thrumming in this veins. He shifted so he could reach behind himself, slipping a spit-covered finger into his own hole. He moaned as he pumped the digit, looking down at Wylder’s smouldering gaze.
“I’m going to ride you,” he declared with finality, slipping off his shirt and tossing it aside blindly, leaving him nude. “I want to feel you.”
Wylder nodded enthusiastically, clearly worked up by the very idea. Ironeye wasted no time pushing in a second finger, moaning as he felt the stretch. He could feel more than hear Wylder’s breath pick up as the swordsman watched hungrily. Those wonderfully calloused hands trailed over his chest and abs appreciatively, fingers spread out and warming his chilled skin. He slipped in a third finger once he felt he was ready, moaning harder at the stretch. He let out a silent curse as Wylder decided to wrap one of those warm hands around his neglected cock, pumping slowly.
Ironeye moaned softly as both his and Wylder’s hands worked him, enough to get him needy but not enough that he could peak. He pulled his fingers out once he felt he was ready enough, pulling Wylder’s hand away from his aching dick. He needed Wylder. He had been patient enough all day.
He quickly reached over to the nightstand, expertly pulling out his small bottle of oil and quickly lathering one of his hands. Wylder wiggled out of his soiled pants, hissing as his cock was finally released, standing to attention and leaking at the tip. Ironeye tossed the bottle aside carelessly as he shifted again, Wylder’s hands moving to hold him steadily on his waist. He wasted no time slicking Wylder’s cock with the oil and then positioning himself over him, slowly sinking down.
They both moaned as the tight ring of his hole was forced open by Wylder’s cock. The swordsman’s grip tightened almost painfully, and Ironeye knew he’d have bruises at the end of this. Good. He enjoyed having Wylder’s marks, almost as much as he enjoyed giving Wylder marks of his love. It was a shame the grace would not leave them.
He eased down as slow as his needy state would allow him, the head of Wylder’s cock pushing past and making his breath punch out. Then he took the rest of Wylder’s shaft until he was sitting on his hips, both of them panting at the feeling. Wylder was warm, always so warm, always made him feel so full.
Wylder moaned lowly below him, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to control himself. By now, Wylder should know better. Ironeye wanted to make him lose control. He relished in it. Prided himself in how he could make Wylder lose himself to his lust and instincts.
“Look at me,” Ironeye demanded with a hiss. Wylder whimpered, throbbing within him as he complied, green eyes opening to take in the sight of the archer above him, of the smoldering blue eyes that burned with lust. Wylder moaned at the sight, hips twitching.
Steadying himself with his hands on the swordsman’s wonderful chest, Ironeye moved teasingly slow on Wylder’s cock. Wylder followed the pace Ironeye set, trembling as he wanted to move faster but allowing Ironeye to take control. They moved together, moaning with each other until Ironeye decided enough teasing and moved quicker. Wylder’s grip on his waist tightened, angling him so the knight was hitting his prostate with every bounce on that delicious cock of his, pleasure building in them both.
Ironeye moved a hand to caress Wylder’s neck, moaning as the swordsman threw his head back with no hesitation. He wrapped his hand around that pretty column of neck and squeezed softly. Wylder twitched in him as he gasped, thrusting up harder. Ironeye released him, keeping rhythm with his hips, before squeezing again. Wylder’s moan was silenced by the grip on his neck, and Ironeye released him again, the swordsman gasping for air.
“You’re so beautiful like this, Wylder.” Ironeye moaned softly, watching those green eyes flutter at the praise. Wylder’s moans grew louder, more whiny as he quickly approached climax. Ironeye wasn’t far behind, thighs trembling in effort.
Ironeye slowed down to a stop as another idea came to mind. He looked down at Wylder, who whined below him as he stopped, looking up at him with confusion. Normally, this would be enough for them both. But he was ravenous for Wylder. He needed more. He didn’t want this to end just yet.
Wylder whined as he lifted himself from the swordsman’s cock. He hissed as he suddenly felt empty, nearly giving into temptation to fill himself up again and finish them both. Wylder looked up at him in confusion, and a tad hurt. Ironeye kissed the look off of him.
“You’re being so good for me,” he reassured against his lips, “you feel good too, but not yet. You don’t get to finish yet. I'm not done with you.”
“But I’ve been good.” Wylder protested softly, trying to pull Ironeye back on him. Ironeye chuckled, giving the swordsman another quick peck on his lips.
“So needy for me. I want to take you. I’ve waited this long. You’re not going to make me wait longer, are you? Will you let me take you?”
Wylder shuddered at the idea, nodding. Ironeye smirked down at him. “Good boy.”
The assassin was quick to find his discarded bottle of oil and lather his fingers. Wylder eagerly helped him switch positions so he was now between the swordsman’s legs, and Ironeye wasted no time in preparing him. He pushed in one finger to that warm, needy hole. Wylder moaned softly, and Ironeye gently pumped the digit before adding a second. He scissored his fingers carefully, making sure to brush against Wylder’s prostate, smirking at every startled moan that came out of those sweet lips. Soon he was pressing in a third finger, pumping them steadily before deviously pressing against that spot within Wylder dead-center.
Wylder thrust up against his fingers, moaning loudly as he chased the pleasure. Ironeye kept pumping, watching the swordsman writhe on his fingers until he was shaking with need, getting closer and closer-
Until Ironeye pulled his fingers out, smirking as he watched Wylder’s hole clench over nothing. Wylder whined as he was suddenly empty, looking up at him pleadingly. Ironeye hissed as he coated his cock in oil, suddenly too impatient to keep teasing the swordsman further. He needed Wylder, and Wylder seemed to be in a similar state after being denied for so long.
Sure enough, the swordsman pulled his hips close as he aligned his aching cock to his hole. With a grunt, he pressed into that tempting hole, Wylder moaning below him. Ironeye groaned softly in pleasure as the head of his cock slipped passed, easing all the way in steadily. Wylder whimpered as he adjusted, and all too soon he was clenching with impatience. Warmth enveloped his cock greedily, and Ironeye had to fight himself to stay in control, to keep from just taking the swordsman. He wanted them both to enjoy this thoroughly, it would do neither of them any good if he got too excited and finished early.
Ironeye gripped Wylder’s hips steadily, tightly, as he began a quick, relentless pace. Wylder whined as he tried to keep up, thrusting up to meet every movement of his hips. Wylder clawed at his back, spurring him to move faster, to thrust into that wet heat deeper. Pleasure was rapidly building, and Wylder was with him at the edge if those noises and the way he was arching into him for more was any indication. He just needed to hold out until Wylder finished, a challenge in itself as Wylder was just so gorgeous with how needily he was moaning, with how tightly he was grabbing onto him.
“So pretty,” he whispered in awe, watching Wylder’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “That’s it Wylder. Lose it for me. Spill for me. Make a mess for me.”
Ironeye’s voice dropped to a low growl, and he knew the thread of pleasure snapped just in time for him to pull out, hissing as the mounting heat in his core suddenly stopped. Wylder was already spilling over the edge though, and he wrapped a hand around Wylder’s aching cock to work him through it, pumping steadily.
As Wylder came down, Ironeye gently kissed him, “Good boy. That's it. Come back to me.”
Wylder grunted as he eased his grip from bruising to gentle. The swordsman was quick to capture the assassin's lips in a tender kiss, humming in content.
Ironeye's hand, which paused as they kissed gently, moved again over Wylder's softening cock, rhythm firm and slick with Wylder's spend. Wylder shuddered, pulling back from the kiss to whine.
“You didn't finish,” Wylder panted as Ironeye worked him, shuddering at the sensation. It wasn't a question, considering Ironeye's cock was poking him insistently on the thigh as the archer worked him up again.
Wylder squirmed. “I don't know if I can go again. It's…it's too much.”
Even as he protested, Wylder's cock filled to hardness between them. Those pretty green eyes were glassy with pleasure, body beautifully flushed. Wylder had stamina enough to go again, Ironeye knew. Wylder often left him a boneless heap, trembling and messy after their love making. For once, he wanted to return the favor. He wanted to push the swordsman until he was shaking with pleasure. Until Wylder couldn't make sense of anything other than Ironeye.
Ironeye clicked his tongue, releasing Wylder's now hardened cock but moving to flip the swordsman over on his hands and knees. Despite the protest, Wylder went easily, spreading his legs obediently.
Ironeye let one hand go to the swordsman's hips as the other traced over those wonderful back muscles appreciatively. There were fewer scars on his back than his front, the most prominent the burn scar on his left hand, where his explosive pike was. A shame Ironeye couldn't add to them permanently. He would love to paint Wylder's back with the lines of his nails, a canvas of their pleasure and love making. Proof Wylder belonged to him and him only.
Wylder's moan as Ironeye pushed the head of his cock back into that wonderful hole sounded more like a sob than anything. Ironeye shushed him, kissing his neck and back tenderly. He knew if Wylder really didn't want to, he'd pull away, or simply tell him he was done. The fact the swordsman did nothing but whine and tremble and take it spurred him on.
Perhaps a little encouragement was needed. After all, he was sure Wylder was quickly becoming overstimulated with pleasure.
“Yes you can. I know you can.” Ironeye whispered into his heated skin. He pressed his free hand to the back of Wylder's neck, holding him steady. “Give me another one Wylder. Be good for me.”
Wylder whined as Ironeye started a slow rhythm, then moaned loudly as the archer sped up, aiming for his prostate. The swordsman gripped the sheets below him tightly, nearly ripping them with how white knuckled his grip was. An anchor for the pleasure.
Ironeye released his neck to reach over and run his hand over Wylder's clenched one. His heart fluttered when Wylder eased his hold enough for Ironeye to thread their fingers together, before holding tightly. Ironeye squeezed back, nosing through Wylder's soft blond hair.
“So good for me…”
Wylder let out a sob, and the archer tilted his head to get a good look at the swordsman's face as he rammed into his prostate from behind. Wylder's sweet green eyes were watery from the overstimulation, tears trailing down that beautiful face. The sight made something vicious and possessive in him stir happily, and he had to pause, hips stuttering to keep from finishing from the look alone.
Wylder sobbed brokenly below him, pushing his face into the pillows. “Don't- don't stop! Ironeye please!”
Ironeye throbbed at the plea. He wanted more. And Wylder hiding his face wouldn't do.
He switched the grip on Wylder's hip to wrap around his waist, pulling Wylder’s back to his chest. It made it easier to drive himself as deep as possible into the swordsman's hole. Ironeye pulled his other hand free from Wylder's tight grip to snatch the swordsman's hair in a tight grip, yanking harshly. Wylder keened at the rough treatment, clenching around him tightly.
Maybe he was being rougher than usual, but he had been craving the swordsman all day. He was going to get his fill. And Wylder would happily take it like the good boy he was.
“I want to hear you Wylder. I've been craving you all day. Be good for me.” He hissed as he continued to pound into the swordsman below him.
Wylder could only give a broken sob before he was tensing in the way Ironeye was familiar with. The archer responded in kind, pushing just a bit harder, moving just a bit faster, until Wylder was trembling and spilling below him. The swordsman whined as Ironeye worked him through it, clenching tightly.
“That's it,” Ironeye growled out through clenched teeth. “So pretty. Good boy.”
Ironeye moaned lowly as that wet heat suddenly became tighter in response to the praise. It didn't take him long to follow Wylder over the edge, pressing himself into the swordsman's quivering hole as far as he could and spilling within him.
Ironeye stayed limp behind the swordsman for a moment, collecting himself and idly running his fingers through Wylder's hair. Wylder collapsed in the sheets, making a content sound as Ironeye slowly soothed him while he came down from his high.
Ironeye pressed a quick kiss to the back of Wylder's neck when they were both ready, hissing as he pulled out of that wonderfully warm hole. He hummed in appreciation as he watched Wylder reflexively clench over nothing with a soft whine, no doubt feeling empty.
Cleaning was a quick affair. Ironeye barely got them both wiped down before Wylder was pulling them into bed insistently. The assassin chuckled, and they eventually managed to get into a comfortable position, mirroring how Ironeye woke up, with Wylder wrapped protectively around him. Only this time, they were both naked, and their skin pressed against each other as Wylder pressed his chest to his back and tangled their legs.
Ironeye closed his eyes as he felt Wylder press gentle kisses into his skin. Eventually, the swordsman broke the content silence.
“I should tease you more often if this is the reaction I get.”
Ironeye chuckled, holding one of Wylder's wrists where the swordsman had his arms wrapped around him and squeezing affectionately.
“I definitely wouldn't mind. But even if you choose not to I enjoy our time together regardless.”
Wylder hummed in acknowledgement, and Ironeye felt him press his nose into his hair and inhale. “I love you.”
Ironeye's heart didn't beat, but it still fluttered at the words. He turned his head as best as he could to look at his swordsman. Wylder was watching already, eyes tender. Ironeye's heart fluttered again.
The words caught in his throat, as they often did, frustratingly enough. But Wylder always seemed to know what was left unsaid. Wylder smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I know.”
Ironeye turned back around, a small smile pulling his lips, and settled into the swordsman's hold. Eventually he heard Wylder's breathing even out, and he closed his eyes in content. He let the sound lull him to a state of meditation, warm and satisfied.