Verin tips his head up for the kiss, welcoming it as the first and the only one he's wanted all night. All day. He can't resist the urge to reach up, to gently touch Essek's cheek as they part again. He knows Essek is proud and that means more to him that so much of the other praise he's received today.
Essek slips out of his peignoir, allowing Verin to fully see what he's worn beneath all his layers. Verin knows that his brother dresses for himself, but he likes to believe that his brother chose these lacy underthings with the thought that Verin might see them. He wonders if Essek has worn them all day or if he changed upon returning to his rooms, anticipating an early-morning visitor. He tries to relax when Essek tells him to, but it's difficult when his brother's elegant hand finally curls around his bare cock. Light, he has missed that touch, perfect and soft and deft.
Verin is aching hard, and it's not the first time he's found himself in this state in his brother's bed; it wouldn't have been the first time that he arrived in this state, wanting badly to seek satisfaction and pleasure with Essek. It was never a matter of Essek having more experience, but that Verin adores him and trusts him. Perhaps also that Essek could explore with his own assured control - his little brother would never hurt him or disobey. Not much has changed.
Unthinking, he lifts a hand to his mouth, covering it to hold back a heavy moan as the wet heat of Essek's mouth takes the leaking head of his cock. His stomach and thighs tense to resist the sharp urge to thrust up. Verin remembers nights spent learning to hold back, to ensure Essek could move at his own pace as they explored each other.
A higher sound escapes him, a whine in the very back of his throat when Essek sucks just the head, his other hand resting over taut muscles, a reminder of his older brother's control. All it takes is a touch, a word. Still, Verin feels his cock throb with the building excitement, with the pleasure of finally feeling Essek's mouth. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, and he doesn't miss the blush coloring Essek's face. It is some relief to know that his brother is just as affected.
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Essek slips out of his peignoir, allowing Verin to fully see what he's worn beneath all his layers. Verin knows that his brother dresses for himself, but he likes to believe that his brother chose these lacy underthings with the thought that Verin might see them. He wonders if Essek has worn them all day or if he changed upon returning to his rooms, anticipating an early-morning visitor. He tries to relax when Essek tells him to, but it's difficult when his brother's elegant hand finally curls around his bare cock. Light, he has missed that touch, perfect and soft and deft.
Verin is aching hard, and it's not the first time he's found himself in this state in his brother's bed; it wouldn't have been the first time that he arrived in this state, wanting badly to seek satisfaction and pleasure with Essek. It was never a matter of Essek having more experience, but that Verin adores him and trusts him. Perhaps also that Essek could explore with his own assured control - his little brother would never hurt him or disobey. Not much has changed.
Unthinking, he lifts a hand to his mouth, covering it to hold back a heavy moan as the wet heat of Essek's mouth takes the leaking head of his cock. His stomach and thighs tense to resist the sharp urge to thrust up. Verin remembers nights spent learning to hold back, to ensure Essek could move at his own pace as they explored each other.
A higher sound escapes him, a whine in the very back of his throat when Essek sucks just the head, his other hand resting over taut muscles, a reminder of his older brother's control. All it takes is a touch, a word. Still, Verin feels his cock throb with the building excitement, with the pleasure of finally feeling Essek's mouth. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, and he doesn't miss the blush coloring Essek's face. It is some relief to know that his brother is just as affected.