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The kiss with Vil is hungry, almost feral.
After days and days of being almost secluded with always the same people, finally he’s done shooting for his next movie, and he’s all yours.
He grips at you with a sense of urgency, of need, as he pushes his tongue against yours, intruding your mouth. You let him dominate the kiss as you grind your bodies together, and he still has his high-heeled shoes on so he’s taller. Nevertheless, your cocks still brush together from time to time, and you know you're both hard.
“Vil…” you whisper as soon as the kiss is broken, and he calls you back. You can never have enough of hearing him call your name with that low voice, full of love and lust and honey. One of your hands travels down his back, finding its place on his ass, clad in tight-fitting leather pants, a part of his character’s outfit.
A PROTAGONIST character.
He’s worked hard for that main character role, and his beauty routine had become even more obsessed and strict, if possible. After class, barely a kiss and a goodbye before either having to study or shooting. You even went with him a couple of times, but you always felt kind of… out of place. That was HIS world, not yours.
So you stayed back, waiting for him.
And it was stressing, not being able to spend time together, plus the unexpected feeling of arousal whenever you saw him in those leather pants.
But the satisfied face, albeit quite tired, he made every time he came back, was totally worth it.
And now, finally his work was done. Completed. Terminated. Out of the way.
And by your request, he kept the pants.
His ass is small and soft under your hand, the shape perfectly highlighted by the lucid leather. The motion has him pushing even more against your body.
“I worked so hard” he says, starting to unbutton his shirt “So I think I deserve the reward, don’t you think?”
He lets the shirt fall off, revealing the milky skin underneath, unblemished and perfect, just for you. He doesn’t pose undressed or even shirtless, so you know this is a sight only you got to see. His body is exactly as his clothed physique and training regimen suggested: lean but not skinny, healthy and delicate, but also powerful and dangerous. Like a beautiful trap, a flower that entices you with its beauty, its colors, its odor, only to reveal its poisonous side.
And being with Vil is like poison, is like a drug: you can never get enough of him, and he knows it.
He revels in the adoration in your eyes, in the hungry look when you have sex, in the love you show even in the simplest things during your daily routine.
Vil worked hard for that, for his beauty, his status, and wants everything. He deserves everything.
And you give it to him.
You push him on the bed and he falls gracefully on the soft mattress, his hair is spread all around his head, and he keeps his legs closed, as if to hide himself, but the look on his face screams the opposite.
You lick your lips, tasting his lipstick on yourself, and shred your own jacket and shirt. Torsos equally bared, you crawl on the bed as well.
Your hand slowly travels upward along his leg. He’s smiling smug and confident, a true vixen, and his act is exceptional, it really is, but you notice how his hand grips the sheets, how he’s holding back. Soon you part his legs, slowly, like unwrapping a present.
And what present.
The shiny leather bulges over his erection. You run your hands over his thighs a few times, enjoying the feeling of quality leather, and more importantly, drawing quicker breaths out of Vil.
“You look so fine in these”
He’s quiet, at first. But he’ll have time to be louder.
“But you look good in everything”
Two fingers run over his clothed hole, making him shiver
“Who needs Prince Charming when I have the king right in front of me? And the king can get anything he wants”
He likes it, when you praise him. Especially because it’s true. He pulls you down suddenly, grabbing your shoulders. He grinds again against you as you kiss, and you feel his heels digging in your back.
The leather is weird against your hips but it sparkles something in your gut and you decide that you’ll get him in leather more often.
He moves against you, hips against hips and lips against lips, smearing his lipstick on you. He’s starting to get a bit desperate, weeks of abstinence taking their toll.
You maneuver him a bit so you’re not restraining his hips down, one hand on his crotch, and the friction he can get on his constrained cock is very limited.
“Give it to me” he calls you, and his breathing is very strained now.
“Even the king has to ask nicely” You remind him, keeping his body still and unable to get enough friction.
“Please” you’ve never heard him beg so fast. He must be even more pent up than you thought.
You smile, and release him “As you wish, Your Majesty”
You sit back and remove his high-heels, then make quick work of the trousers, carefully tossing them on the chair. You want to do some more nasty things with Vil wearing them.
The underwear follow suit, and Vil is finally naked.
His legs are spread obscenely around you, his inner thighs the only skin that’s not pure white, in fact some very faint leftovers of hickeys still paint that soft skin, the only place he lets you mark him, as nobody beside you two will ever see it.
It arouses you, the fire in your gut burning ever more fiercely, but a voice in your mind complains that those marks are definitely too faint now. You need to make more.
You press a lube-coated finger against Vil’s entrance, and his cock twitch. His cock is slender and long, gracefully curving slightly upwards.
Vil doesn’t touch himself but places a hand on your head, when you kiss his thigh, and his grip tightens when you finally press your finger inside.
“Ah… ngh…” Vil groans when a second finger is added. You watch as your fingers disappear into his pinkish hole, stretching it wide.
Vil moans softly when you brush his prostate, so you insist on it, curling your finger just so, alternating with spreading them wide, even adding a third finger.
Deeming him open enough, you stand up to unceremoniously kick your dorm pants and underwear off, and lube yourself up. By the time you’re done, you see Vil almost folded in half, his hands holding his leg behind the knees, baring his ass for you. You LOVE how flexible he is.
“Give it to me” he demands again, and his voice his commanding, powerful, even if it’s slightly trembling, and it all goes straight to your dick, feeling it twitch in arousal.
“Be careful of what you wish for, Your Majesty” you warn him, while you lube yourself up.
“I do not wish. I demand” he quips back “And what I demand, I obtain”
He’s looking at your directly in the eyes, and if you didn’t know his distaste for using magic to enhance beauty, you’d swear he’s casting a spell on you, because you find yourself unable to look away.
Eyes still locked, you align your cock to his entrance, and push.
No much resistance is found as you slowly sheathe your way in, it’s hot and tight and Vil already trembles pleasurably under you. You bottom out with a sigh and he groans. You wait a few moments to let him get used to it, then slowly start to rock up and down.
Your cock drags on his walls, the you let yourself fall back down, earning a whimper every time you press him onto the mattress.
Vil is the first to break eye contact, his head arching back slightly. You take it as your cue to step up your game, so you increase your speed until you’re bench-pressing him down, the fury of your leg muscles teaming up with gravity to slam inside of him.
It’s now that Vil openly and loudly moans his pleasure every time you push inside, crescent-shaped marks decorating your back when Vil’s nails gripped on you, desperate to anchor himself to reality.
You want to keep going, to hear more sounds coming out of that pretty mouth of his, to make him feel more pleasure, but you’re close, dangerously close.
“Vil” you call him “Vil Vil Vil Vil Vil Vil Vil Vil” you keep calling him under your breath, almost akin to a prayer, while you push inside more than ever before.
He holds you close as he comes, his seed spattering on his chest and even on his face. He comes with a loud moan and his body goes rigid before going slack. You ride his hypersensitivity and he cries out, too fucked up to stop you, until you come inside him.
He doesn’t let you go until you’re flaccid, only then he lets you collapse on the side.
Opening one eye for you, he smiles, fondly, lovingly. You kiss him in return, a chaste, sweet kiss.
“Even fucked out, you’re still the most beautiful”
“Obviously”
You both giggle at the statement, both for the absolute poker face he delivered the line with, and because, well, it’s true. Even after getting fucked, makeup smeared with kisses and tears, hairs disheveled, Vil is still the most beautiful.
Vil stands up and stretches upwards, his spine popping. But your eyes are looking lower, at the way your come is dripping down his thigh, and you can’t remember anything so sexy. You feel the embers stirring in your gut, Vil probably notices your enraptured look, and grins.
“I will be taking a shower, before heading to bed. I wonder if I will manage to do so without getting… interrupted” he says, glancing at you from over his shoulder.
You grin back at him, knowing fully well you’re definitely going to interrupt him.