He struggled to hold back his cries, hips arching desperately into the wet warmth. This was wrong, it was a sin to burn with such desire. Leonardo struggled to push him away, but Ezio ran his tongue tauntingly up the vein and his thoughts vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
“Ezio, please.” He wanted him to stop, he wanted him to finish, he wanted this torture to go on forever and to end right now.
Ezio pinned his hips, cheeks hollowing with the force of his suction. Leonardo was sure the sound he made was more animal than human when he found his pleasure, Ezio greedily taking every last drop, tongue darting out to gather that which escaped.
Leonardo reached out to him, pushing against his chest as firmly as his shaking arms would permit. Ezio’s lips traced up the line of his throat, teeth nibbling the tendons there, bruising him, marking him so that any with eyes would know he was claimed.
Ezio reached out to take his graceful hand, pressing it to the center of his chest; Leonardo could feel the shiver that ran down his body while he forced his hand to move still lower.
Leonardo’s hand closed about his length beneath the fabric of his trousers, guided and held there by Ezio’s much larger hand.
Almost unconsciously he began to stroke, feeling the hardness beneath his palm, the warmth of his skin. His tongue darted out once more to lick his lips and Ezio captured it, sucking it into his own mouth insistently, sighing softly with something that sounded like satisfaction to Leonardo’s straining ears.
Slowly Ezio pulled away, savoring the brief taste. “It is not enough. It will never be enough.”
Leonardo gathered the breath to ask exactly what he meant by that, but Ezio’s hand rose to press into his neck, thumb feathering across his pulse. “Take your hands away, Leonardo.” He punctuated the command with a small increase in pressure and Leonardo released, held still by the sheer force of his eyes.
Ezio’s other hand reached out to take his knife and if possible Leonardo became even more stiff.
“Enough, my friend. You know I would never hurt you.”
“I am no longer sure of you.”
Ezio’s face hardened, “I will teach you my measure then.”
Leonardo stumbled to his feet, yanked there by Ezio. He swayed slightly, knees trembling beneath him so that he was not sure how long he could possibly stand.
Ezio swept the parchments from his desk in one smooth motion and Leonardo moaned in despair. Much of the work would be ruined, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
Leonardo gasped at the unexpected cold of the wood beneath his bare chest, hips unconsciously thrusting into the side of his desk, seeking any release.
One of Ezio’s broad hands pressed between his shoulder blades, holding him down. The rustle of cloth warned him that Ezio was stripping the loose trousers from his legs, pushing his robes aside.
He dared not breath as that calloused palm settled on the flesh of his ass, fingers slipping between to taunt him.
“Come for me once more Leonardo.”
“I cannot.” He panted, already half-erect.
He could hear the smirk in Ezio’s voice; “You will for me.”
Ezio’s hand grasped him firmly, running down his length with purpose, thumb ghosting over his tip and palm massaging softly into his length. It became a struggle to hold back the release he knew was coming, but Ezio would have none of it. A second hand joined the first, teasing, playing, slipping down his perineum to nudge into his asshole.
“No.”
Ezio ran a finger around the pucker there, leaning his weight onto the artist to whisper in his ear once more. “You will come for me.” He bit into the curve of Leonardo’s ear and the battle was lost. His release overwhelmed him and what little strength he had was swiftly drained.
Ezio gathered what wetness remained on his fingers, pushing into him once more, searching, finding that place inside him that made him arch and beg, mindless with lust.
“Ezio, please.”
“Whom do you belong to?”
“You.”
“Not that weakling boy or some rich patron?”
“You, Ezio. Only you. I swear it.”
Leonardo’s fingers gouged into the smooth wood when he felt Ezio’s length pushing into him slowly, stretching him impossibly. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do any more than accept his attentions. A whimper escaped him when Ezio sheathed himself fully, showing no mercy, the rough fabric of his shirt abrading Leonard’s back.
The Burden of Wisdom Part 3
“Ezio, please.” He wanted him to stop, he wanted him to finish, he wanted this torture to go on forever and to end right now.
Ezio pinned his hips, cheeks hollowing with the force of his suction. Leonardo was sure the sound he made was more animal than human when he found his pleasure, Ezio greedily taking every last drop, tongue darting out to gather that which escaped.
Leonardo reached out to him, pushing against his chest as firmly as his shaking arms would permit. Ezio’s lips traced up the line of his throat, teeth nibbling the tendons there, bruising him, marking him so that any with eyes would know he was claimed.
Ezio reached out to take his graceful hand, pressing it to the center of his chest; Leonardo could feel the shiver that ran down his body while he forced his hand to move still lower.
Leonardo’s hand closed about his length beneath the fabric of his trousers, guided and held there by Ezio’s much larger hand.
Almost unconsciously he began to stroke, feeling the hardness beneath his palm, the warmth of his skin. His tongue darted out once more to lick his lips and Ezio captured it, sucking it into his own mouth insistently, sighing softly with something that sounded like satisfaction to Leonardo’s straining ears.
Slowly Ezio pulled away, savoring the brief taste. “It is not enough. It will never be enough.”
Leonardo gathered the breath to ask exactly what he meant by that, but Ezio’s hand rose to press into his neck, thumb feathering across his pulse. “Take your hands away, Leonardo.” He punctuated the command with a small increase in pressure and Leonardo released, held still by the sheer force of his eyes.
Ezio’s other hand reached out to take his knife and if possible Leonardo became even more stiff.
“Enough, my friend. You know I would never hurt you.”
“I am no longer sure of you.”
Ezio’s face hardened, “I will teach you my measure then.”
Leonardo stumbled to his feet, yanked there by Ezio. He swayed slightly, knees trembling beneath him so that he was not sure how long he could possibly stand.
Ezio swept the parchments from his desk in one smooth motion and Leonardo moaned in despair. Much of the work would be ruined, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
Leonardo gasped at the unexpected cold of the wood beneath his bare chest, hips unconsciously thrusting into the side of his desk, seeking any release.
One of Ezio’s broad hands pressed between his shoulder blades, holding him down. The rustle of cloth warned him that Ezio was stripping the loose trousers from his legs, pushing his robes aside.
He dared not breath as that calloused palm settled on the flesh of his ass, fingers slipping between to taunt him.
“Come for me once more Leonardo.”
“I cannot.” He panted, already half-erect.
He could hear the smirk in Ezio’s voice; “You will for me.”
Ezio’s hand grasped him firmly, running down his length with purpose, thumb ghosting over his tip and palm massaging softly into his length. It became a struggle to hold back the release he knew was coming, but Ezio would have none of it. A second hand joined the first, teasing, playing, slipping down his perineum to nudge into his asshole.
“No.”
Ezio ran a finger around the pucker there, leaning his weight onto the artist to whisper in his ear once more. “You will come for me.” He bit into the curve of Leonardo’s ear and the battle was lost. His release overwhelmed him and what little strength he had was swiftly drained.
Ezio gathered what wetness remained on his fingers, pushing into him once more, searching, finding that place inside him that made him arch and beg, mindless with lust.
“Ezio, please.”
“Whom do you belong to?”
“You.”
“Not that weakling boy or some rich patron?”
“You, Ezio. Only you. I swear it.”
Leonardo’s fingers gouged into the smooth wood when he felt Ezio’s length pushing into him slowly, stretching him impossibly. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do any more than accept his attentions. A whimper escaped him when Ezio sheathed himself fully, showing no mercy, the rough fabric of his shirt abrading Leonard’s back.