Karl and dougray Scott: hunger
players only. current.
On a break from filming, with Dougray working and Harry the one overseas for a change, Karl finds himself with an excess of energy. He goes for a run, works out at the gym in their building, jerks off to the best kinky porn he can find, but it's still there, that feeling, that urge, coiling tight deep down inside him. Looking for an excuse to snap, a place to be vented. Normally he'd find a way to diffuse it in fucking everything that walks or in the bottom of a bottle of scotch but both those outlets have long been put off-limits by his lovers. So instead he's sitting on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, arms wrapped around a throw pillow, watching some stupid talk show, his whole body fairly vibrating with need, just itching for their boy to get home.
It's getting too warm in London to wear a full suit anymore. But Dougray has too many things to carry to shrug off his jacket as well -- briefcase, stack of stuffed file folders that didn't fit in the briefcase, potted African violet which his secretary insisted on giving him. He felt like a right arse on the tube home. A drop of sweat drips beneath his collar and he juggles his armfuls, trying to dig out his keys without dropping the whole lot. Key turned in the lock, and he slowly pushes the door open with his shoulder, edging sideways into the loft.
The moment Karl hears the key in the door the pillow's on the floor and he's over the back of the couch, covering the distance between living room and front hall in no time flat. "Don't move," he growls, pushing Dougray up against the back of the door.
Dougray whimpers in surprise. And the violets fall to the floor with a crash of terracotta. "Sir," he whispers, staring in Karl's eyes, struggling to keep a grip on the slipping folders.
"Shh. We'll get that later, and I'll take these." Karl pulls the folders and briefcase from Dougray's arms and sets them aside. Braces his hands on the door above Dougray's shoulders and leans in close, sniffing at his throat and then lower, nose pushing inside his jacket. "Dirty boy," he whispers, cock pulsing at the scent of sweat and soap and Dougray. His head raised again, eyes locking on a single drop of sweat as it rolls down Dougray's throat. His tongue darts out to catch it, licks up and around, along the line of Dougray's jaw. Slowly. Deliberately.
"Ohh, god." Dougray's head thumps back against the wood and he splays his hands on the smooth surface of the door. Breath hitching at the touch of Karl's tongue.
"Leave that on," Karl whispers, working Dougray's tie out from under his shirt collar and deftly unfastening one button after another, shirt flaps pushed aside as he slides his hand over Dougray's chest. Twists and tugs at his nipples.
The tease goes straight to Dougray's cock and he groans. His eyes slip shut but then he opens them again, wanting to watch Karl.
"Fuck," Karl breathes, eyes flickering up and down Dougray. The suit, the tie, the bare chest. "I'm gonna eat you up," he growls softly, leaning in to bite at Dougray's chest, just to the side of his collarbone, teeth digging deep enough to mark.
Fuck, yes. Dougray has no idea what set Karl off. Maybe later, he'll wonder about that.
"May... may I touch you, Sir?" he gasps.
Karl raises his head. And grins. "No." Shoving Dougray's suit jacket back, off his shoulders, and tugging it down behind him so it falls to the floor. "You can keep your hands right where they are."
"Yes, Sir," Dougray whispers. He arches slightly against the door, pushing towards Karl's mouth. His cock is pulsing with blood already. Determined to behave, he fists his hands behind himself.
Bracing his hands above Dougray's shoulders again, Karl leans in for another bite, this one right beside the first, and then another. Sucking the blood to the surface under the skin.
It's impossible to keep still. Dougray writhes beneath Karl's mouth, dying for friction on his cock, better than he's getting from his trousers. But he’s way too smart to ask for it. "Thank you, Sir," he gasps, licking his lips. "Too long since you've marked me."
"I know," Karl murmurs, biting harder, intent on seeing every inch of Dougray marked. Every inch that won't be seen by anyone else. Anyone else vanilla anyway, another wicked thought coming to mind.
God. Dougray is going to be a shivering melting mess. Soon. He has a sneaking suspicion that's the result Karl is going for. The bites set him on fire, possessive grind of Karl's teeth combined with the perfect intense tease of pain, and it's a real struggle now to keep his hands to himself. "Sir..." he murmurs, then just whimpers. "Oh, god."
Karl stands back again, easing the shirt from Dougray's shoulders and dropping it to join his suit jacket, baring still more skin for his mouth. "And these, I think," he murmurs, flicking open the button on Dougray's trousers and drawing down the zipper. "They can go too."
Dropping his head back again, Dougray sighs as his trousers slip down to his ankles, revealing his rearing erection which is barely contained by his boxer briefs. He links his fingers together tighter. "Hungry, Sir?"
"Very." Karl leans in, biting Dougray's shoulder and down one arm and then the other, dampness spreading across the front of his jeans at the taste of their boy, at the thought of how he's going to look when Karl's done. So very owned.
Dougray's skin feels like it's on fire. He's never been bitten this much, never had anyone focus laser-like attention on his body quite this way. It's intoxicating, even as it tortures him. "Sir," he moans, desperation creeping into his voice. He wriggles, begging with his body.
"No, not yet." Karl drops to his knees, running his hands over Dougray's chest and arms and stomach before he's got his mouth back on him, tongue teasing across the waistband of his boxer briefs, and chuckling as Dougray's cock jerks against his throat.
Fuck. So damn close. The heat of Karl's mouth is amazing, searing Dougray's skin. Making him want impossibly more, until he's sure he'll go mad with need.
But Karl takes his time. Marking Dougray's stomach and hips with bite after bite, blood pinpricking the surface, colouring between the lines.
Finally, Dougray reaches absolute breaking point. "Fuck, Sir, please!" he bursts out, shivering beneath Karl's mouth. "Sir, please, please touch me!" His cock is straining against the thin cotton of his shorts, and he thinks the teasing might just kill him this time.
Karl kneels back, looking up at Dougray. "I am touching you," he says, amused, loving the desperation in Dougray's voice and the lines of his body.
Christ, Karl on his knees. The sight just takes Dougray's breath away. "Please touch your boy's cock, Sir," he begs. Nervous as hell about asking.
"What? Like this?" Licking a long line along the ridge, right through his briefs.
Dougray groans, melting beneath the sinful touch. "Yes, Sir," he gasps, his cock jerking against Karl's tongue. "Please. More."
Karl grins, the expression downright wicked. "Be careful what you ask for," he murmurs, clamping his teeth down on the head through the cotton.
Pain shocks through Dougray and he shouts, the sound bouncing off the rafters. He moans a second later, dying to bury his hands in Karl's hair and tug. "God, Sir!"
His own cock painfully hard, Karl licks and sucks and bites at Dougray's cock through his briefs, working it with his lips and teeth until the fabric's soaked with spit and precome.
"Ohh fuck," Dougray breathes. He winces, starting to rock his hips slightly, pain and lust flashing through him. Struggling against the burn. "Please," he gasps. "Please, I'm so close."
"Can you hold on?" Karl asks, looking up at Dougray.
Hold on? For what? Dougray has no idea. He whimpers, clamping down on his imminent orgasm. "Yes, Sir."
"Good boy," Karl murmurs, eyes full of mischief as he bites lightly down the inside of one thigh before starting to mark Dougray again. "I don't want you coming until I'm done here," he says, biting sharply into Dougray's thighs, mouth working over the soft flesh at the crease, fingers shoving his briefs out of the way, giving himself access to the most tender areas.
Dougray shouts, bucking his hips. Damn Karl! This is not what he thought he'd be waiting for. He can't hold back the sounds of response anymore and whimpers openly, his grip on his own hands white-knuckled as he struggles not to grab his Sir.
Sitting back on his heels finally, Karl takes a good long look at Dougray, at every mark he's placed on their boy. "There you go," he murmurs, hands sliding up the inside of Dougray's thighs, thumbs pressing hard into two mottled bruises. "Fuck." The discomfort of his jeans only now hitting home, the front soaked with precome. He rocks to his feet and growls, hands on his zipper, "Turn around."
"Yes, Sir." Dougray can't obey fast enough. He turns and slams his hands against the wall, spreading his thighs. His skin feels hot and flushed, blood rushing, sizzling, just beneath the surface. His erection leaks against the wall, aching. "Please!"
Cock freed, Karl takes a hold of the inside leg of Dougray's boxer briefs and tears them open, giving him just enough access to get the head nudged against Dougray's hole and then in, with one sharp thrust. Panting, he reaches for Dougray's tie, wrapping it around his hand and tugging as he pushes deep and then deeper, working his cock into his boy's pre-slicked hole.
Dougray shouts again but the sound is quickly cut off, the silk of his tie suddenly tight against his windpipe for a moment. Christ this angle, Karl so hard inside him, claiming him so mercilessly. Dougray pushes his hips back and bears down, trying to make the path easier. Trying to take more.
"Gonna fuck you. Fill you. Mark you from the inside out," Karl growls, stabbing his cock into Dougray and tugging on that tie with every thrust. Driving his cock into Dougray's hole until he's all the way in. Snug tight in his ass. "Dirty fucking slut."
"Yes," Dougray gasps, choking a little. "Yes!" He clenches around Karl's cock, squeezing him tighter. Moaning as lust pulses through him with nowhere to go. "Please!"
"And you're gonna come for me, aren't you?" Karl demands, twisting the tie tighter, careful about just how long he's stealing Dougray's breath for.
Fuck. Dougray struggles reflexively, which only serves to make the hold even tighter. "Yes," he gasps again when Karl allows it. God, yes. Blood beats in his temples, so hard he'd swear he can hear it.
"Good boy." Karl slams into Dougray, fucking him at a furious pace, harder and harder and harder still, the tie twisted completely as his orgasm crests – yes fuck, yes -- and released as it crashes over him, his cock spurting hotly, flooding Dougray's battered hole.
Dougray claws at the smooth surface of the door, bucking his hips. He comes without a touch, his head pounding as he gasps for air. Reeling with the force of it, he damn near collapses back against Karl.
"JesusChrist," Karl breathes, wrapping his arms around Dougray and holding him tight. His hips are still moving, still fucking his cock into Dougray, but he's slowing, the aftershocks fading, mouth moving over already marked skin.
With a moan Dougray drops his hands. Finally he reaches back and tangles his fingers in Karl's hair, just touching. Angling his head to the side to make more room for his lover's wicked mouth. "God, you're amazing," he whispers, his throat tight.
"So are you," Karl murmurs, his hips finally stilling. He grins. "I broke your plant."
"My what?" Dougray blinks his eyes open blearily. Of all the things that could be broken right now... what? He glances down at the shattered remains of his co-worker's African violet. "Oh. Right." He swallows hard, his throat aching a little. "Okay."
"Here. C'mon," Karl says, keeping one arm wrapped around Dougray's waist. "We'll get you up to bed and I'll get you some water."
"Not thirsty," Dougray argues teasingly. "Dying." He turns in the circle of Karl's arms and lays his head on his shoulder.
"Even more reason for you to let me get you into bed," Karl teases back, hugging Dougray close. "But I could feed you first... or clean you up down here... whatever you want."
"Will you ring for delivery?" Dougray asks. He really doesn't have the energy to cook right now, not that he's spectacular at it anyway. "I'll go take a shower. Wake up a little." And take advantage of the opportunity to check out all his new marks in the mirror.
"Sure. Any preference? Chinese, Indian, pizza..." Karl grins and kisses Dougray.
"Indian. Tandoori." Dougray strokes his hands over Karl's back, wondering how it is that his Sir is still fully clothed. "I'll let you feed me."
"Yeah?" Karl's eyes sparkle wickedly. "Will you let me take you to the club tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, of course." Dougray looks at Karl curiously, confused as to why it seems like such a loaded question. "Why not?"
"Because I want you on your leash, showing off all these marks," Karl says, kissing the curve of Dougray's jaw. "Want to fuck you in front of everyone."
Dougray groans, lust curling tight inside him as his spent cock throbs with blood. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, his eyes slipping shut as he pictures it. It might well be the most self-conscious he'll ever be in his life, he knows. But... "I'll be proud to be on your leash, Sir."
"Good," Karl murmurs, smiling. Already knowing where tomorrow's extra energy will go. "Go shower and I'll get us some food."
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