mund | open post.

Just like this.

[ Graves murmurs approvingly, making a soft noise of pleasure for Credence's benefit. The look of pain in his eyes is surprising -- has he said something wrong, or was something different relayed to him?

Chances are it's the latter, Graves decides. Credence is a skittish foal under his attentions, and Graves is determined to uncover more of him, to encourage and nurture -- he wants to worship and ravish, to overwhelm and share. His young consort's tentative touch is more than welcome, and he shifts under his touch, quietly wanting more. ] That's good. You can do better.

[ He smiles faintly as he continues to rock into him, loosening Credence's hold on him as he kisses his way down his chest, his stomach, to the base of his cock. He nuzzles warmly against the soft dark curls, before kissing his way down his shaft, appreciating the sleek heat of him as he spreads him open. Credence's noises are lovely, delightful, and sure to be heard beyond the chamber's walls. Let them hear, he decides -- let them all know that marital bliss is found in their bed. ]

Look at you. [ He says, kissing the head of his cock, sucking gently. His gaze is dark, fixed on him and full of appreciation. ]You're so beautiful.

[Credence's eyes flash - he can do better.

He's not sure exactly how, but if his husband knows he can, is so convinced, then he can. He immediately, intensely, hates the sudden emptiness and lack of warmth he feels when Graves pushes his legs apart and untangles himself. He wants to beg him to come back, to spread out over him again, but then he's pressing his mouth down his chest and he chokes on a breath.

His feet push to the mattress, whimpering at each brush across his cock. He can feel himself hardening, so quickly, but he's not embarrassed because he doesn't know that sex can be drawn out, that the waiting enhances the pleasure. Credence is surprised, again, when the King kisses the head of his cock, sucking. His thighs shake, body trembling, a hand like a vice on his shoulder trying to stop him.]

What are you doing? Are you supposed to be doing that?

[He shouldn't question his husband, he knows it's a form of disobedience, but he can't believe Graves would do this to him. That he'd go so slow and be so patient, breaking apart all of Credence's preconceived notions of what sex is and isn't. He shakes his head, but he lightens his grip, smooths shaky fingers over the prints he'd left on Graves' shoulder.]

I'm not, but you are so kind for saying that.

[ There.

Credence loosens his hold on his shoulder, ostensibly discovering that Graves can do whatever he damn well pleases, and is clearly exercising that right when it comes to ravishing his young man's lovely, lean body. He can spend hours like this, he decides, witnessing his awakening, leading him into pleasure and showing him just what he can have. Graves has no doubt that Mary Lou has poisoned the well -- with what, however, he has no idea, but he's beginning to find out.

His Credence is still painfully shy, so very innocently new to carnal debauchery, and Graves is slowly, methodically taking it away from him layer by layer.

It starts, of course, with the king sucking his consort's cock, taking him deeper into his mouth, his head bobbing as he sucks and licks, laving the underside of his dick as he worships between his legs, appreciating the way he's gripping his shoulder. He registers Credence's words and only smiles faintly, before he takes him all inside, his lips tight against the base of his dick, his nosy buried in his curls and the head of his cock pressing down his throat.

He stays like that for a moment before he starts moving again, his hand coming to curve over his balls, playing with him absently. He doesn't look away, fixated on Credence's pleasure. ]

Do you like it? [ He asks when he releases his saliva-slick cock from his mouth with a wet 'pop', curious. ]

[Credence can't breathe.

Not in the way when he's run too much or when the weather gets cold and his chest gets tight, but the way it feels when he's startled. Abrupt, throat closed up and heart beating fast, faster, so fast it's almost in his throat. His eyes water because he can't remember how to suck air into his lungs, back arching, feet pressing down and lifting him up on the bed, hips bucking in a stuttered rhythm that's not his fault.. it's all the King's fault, it is.

His eyes roll back into his head when the head of his cock is enveloped in tight heat, too warm and too tight and too much.

He grabs at Graves' shoulders, the only thing keeping him from exploding, floating away.]

It's true, isn't it?

[Credence takes the break to suck in sharply, hands scrambling against the mattress as he pushes himself up on the bed, pillows falling behind him haphazardly. He's not quite sitting but he can see Graves better this way, see what he's doing between his legs.]

My Ma said your kingdom was cursed because it was full of magic. [His eyes are wide, awe marring his expression.] You're magic, aren't you?

[His fingers gently rub the same two inches across Graves' shoulder, tentatively, almost affectionately. Surprised.]

This is not magic, Credence. Not really.

[ Graves smiles faintly, indulgent and endeared by how new he is to all of this, how Graves will be the one to show him the secrets of intimacy, to unlock this world and let him have a taste of all that he has to offer. He watches him sit up, amusement and warmth in his dark eyes. He's sucking on the flared head of his cock gently, kissing and licking leisurely, more to show him how good it feels than it is to make him come as quickly as he can.

No, he wants him to enjoy this, and he feels Credence becoming braver, touching him back -- he's more than happy to let him do what he wants, interested in seeing what Credence chooses to do. But oh, look at him, look how reactive he is, and Graves meets his eyes as he takes him wholly into his mouth once more, the head of his cock pressing against the back of Graves' throat. It takes skill, patience, and he does it again, again and again, drawing out the pleasure, firm and unyielding.

He's kissing and sucking lightly on the head of his cock again, palming his balls and fondling him affectionately, laying kisses over his flat abdomen. Credence is made to be worshiped and ravished, and he murmurs, his voice like velvet. ]

You're going to beg me to fuck you, Credence. [ He thumbs over the slit of his dick, leaning in to kiss and lap up the beads of pre-come that's formed. ] Tell me you don't like seeing me with your cock in my mouth.

[Credence doesn't understand, but he gets the feeling that Graves will help him to over time. If not tonight, then soon - eventually. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he does. They've only just met, only just been married, but Credence already understands that this is different. He can have a life here, be treated well, have a husband that is gentle at least sometimes during sex. He isn't so swayed that he believes it will last forever or be in all situations, but he wants it to be.]

I am?

[He already wants to and he doesn't really know what all that entails.]

No one has done that before. It's.. obscene. [Credence gasps.] I like it so much.

[He's not sure what words to say. The way Graves talks makes him feel filthy, makes his cock ache, pulse in the warm grip surrounding it. He feels desperate, all of the sudden, as if he needs to beg and he wants to beg. He has to. He doesn't want this to last the whole night. He wants it right now.]

Can you.. please. I don't want to wait. I want to know what that feels like right now. Please don't make me wait. [He shifts on the bed, squeezes his thighs, digs his fingernails in.] F-fuck me. Please. I want you to.

Tell me what to say and I'll say it.

[ Credence's impatience is endearing, and something Graves doesn't look to curb, not when they're doing this. He can have a life here, and be treated the way he's always deserved to be treated. Graves doesn't know much about what things were like when Credence had been under his mother's thumb, but he knows enough to have a distaste for it. ]

Shh. [ He soothes, his hand moving to the lubricant nearby, unscrewing the lid and smearing it on his fingers, slicking it up smoothly. ] Patience. [ His words are soft velvet, and he keeps his thighs parted with a soft tut of disapproval. He continues to suck his cock before his mouth finds his balls, taking them into his mouth and laving at them, lube-slick fingers slipping underneath him, one pressing lightly up into the tight pucker of his hole, rubbing gently over the rim before he slowly, slowly pushes it in. To think that he will be the one to claim him, to sweep up his innocence and make it his own; Graves is hungry for it, himself already so hard and eager to simply fuck him, to rut into him as is his right.

But no. He might have Credence, but he wants his heart, too. He wants his loyalty, he wants him to burn for him, to need him when they're apart. ]

I need you to relax. Tensing up will make it hurt more.

[Credence frowns at the lubricant, brows furrowed and mouth pinched in confusion.

He doesn't know what he'll need that for, nobody had ever mentioned that. The conversations he'd been allowed to have about sex were few, but this hadn't been concluded. He wants to ask, he would have, but that small sound, that disapproval, it hurts. All the way to his core. More than he can understand in this moment with everything else that's going on.]

I'm trying, I want to be good for you.

[His lower lip trembles and he smooths his hand down his back, trying not to be overwhelmed by the dual sensations of having his cock sucked and fingers pressed against his hole. It burns, at first, feels strange in an unexpected way, but it gives way as he breathes through it.]

I don't know how.

[Relaxing, usually, isn't something someone has to tell him to do. He can, if he wants, but right now it seems impossible. He makes a sound, grunts as he pushes his hips down impatiently, thinking that'll make the pressure ease into pleasure.] Help me, please.

Easy. [ Graves breathes, low and immediately concerned when he realizes that Credence is extremely sensitive to his cues -- he's so very new at this and so eager to please that Graves has to remember patience despite his own mounting lust. He moves up from his cock to kiss him softly, urging him to kiss him back. to distract him from what he's doing.

Credence is new to this, untouched and pristine, and Graves is aware that his young husband's first time with sex should be as pleasurable as possible, trauma to a bare minimum. Unfortunately, discomfort is part of the game even if Graves knows how to negate it, and his hand comes to keep him at bay, drawing his finger back so he doesn't sink down on him quicker than is comfortable. ] Easy, I've got you.

[ As if he's taming a skittish mare, he thinks, and he smiles against his lips. His slick finger comes back to tease at his hole, gently nudging into him again, slow and deliberate. ] Kiss me. I want you to enjoy this, and for that to happen, you must be patient. Can you do that for me?

[Credence dips his tongue into Graves' mouth, tasting the fine wine that he must have had earlier, the warmth almost as intoxicating - and it does distract him, from the pressure and burn, from the way his body fights it at first. It lets him relax, helps him keep his hips from moving so much.]

I do enjoy i-it. Feels really good.

[When he allows himself to relax long enough for it, anyway.]

I can. [He almost promises, vows that he can and will be patient, but he doesn't. They are newly wed and he doesn't want to commit to something that he fears he won't be able to hold steady to. His body is already impatient for more, for sensation and pleasure, now that he's felt it.] I'll try.

[Parting his lips, he kisses Graves again, hard and open mouthed, sloppy.]

[ Credence is so sweetly honest, earnest that Graves cannot help but feel a ferocious possessiveness over him -- especially when he's obedient and stills under his instruction, knowing that he's consciously trying to make himself relax. It's endearing when he's as passionate as he is impatient, and Graves kisses back with equal ardor, fervent and ravenous, as if he's starved himself for too long and Credence is the only thing that can sate.

He continues to fingerfuck him, slick digit moving in and out in long, smooth strokes, getting him ready as he tries to ignore just how tight and snug he is, how much better it would feel clamped around Graves' cock, how everything in him is roaring to simply turn him over and give him a good, thorough fucking, make him cry out into the night.

No, Credence is not ready for that yet (Graves is not that cruel), and he pushes his second finger on with a soft murmur of approval, tongue slipping against his, snagging a hold of Credence's hand to guide it to his own painfully hard cock, wanting him to know just how much he wants him. Against his mouth, he whispers, hot and fierce. ]

Can you feel how much I want you?

[He can feel a steady ache, tight and shaky, forming at the center of his stomach, getting tighter and tighter and spreading out until it tingles down his legs, making the muscles twitch.

Not having expected it to feel this way, Credence struggles to catch his breath, to keep his eyes open. His back arches and he falls back to the bed, only to arch again, hips trying to rock, move and twist. It's strange having Percival's fingers inside of him, blood-hot and thrusting in and out, a rhythmic pattern that his breathing begins to mimic. He wants to fight against the arm holding him steady, the body pressing him down and the command to maintain control. He wants to roll down on those fingers, he wants more and he's so desperate he wants to beg for it, but he can't convince himself to say it.]

Y-yes. I can feel you.

[His fingers curl, gentle in a way that his body can't seem to manage right then. Credence strokes Graves' cock, carefully, as if he's never done it before and he hasn't, hardly even his own, but he wants it to feel good.]

[ There it is, those sweet words. He knows Credence is getting used to the idea of getting fucked, that he's acquainting himself with Graves, and how they are meant to be intimate. He moves against him, falling into a rhythm that he gently coaxes Credence into, showing him how to move and where, getting him comfortable.

Getting him comfortable is the most important thing; and Graves knows that he's learning. He knows he has to be patient with him, and he gently pushes him while he lightly spreads his fingers inside of him, urging him to relax, to loosen up, because if he doesn't, this is going to hurt. ]

Easy now, my love. [ He whispers heatedly, hips thrusting into his light grip, and Graves' free hand comes to close around Credence's in silent instruction. Firmer. More. ] A little while longer, and I'm going to fuck you.

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