photophobic | [IC CONTACT]

Ronan slips one arm over Kylo's, holding on as Kylo traps him. With that embrace locking him in, there's little for Ronan to do but take every thrust Kylo gives him. It still hurts like hell, and every surge has Ronan shuddering and gasping, his eyes bright with fresh tears.

Still, there's nowhere he'd rather be. This is an exquisite torture.

"No one," Ronan moans in answer to the unfinished question. "My only master. No one could possibly..." The next few words are lost to whispers and hissing as pleasure sneaks through the pain, shocking him at his core.

Kylo gasps sharply as the reflected shock translates through Ronan's senses to reach his own, his hold tightening. He has him now.

"No-one," Kylo agrees raggedly, chasing that thrill of pleasure with another snap of his hips. Another. On, and on, relentless in the pursuit. He wants Ronan writhing with it. Trembling. "You could be a hundred dreams. A thousand. All of them nothing but soft, sweet mouths. But this is what you'd want. This. Is what you need. With me. Say it."

"Fuck," Ronan gasps. "Fuck..." Not in answer to Kylo's order, but in answer to the assault. Every snap is a lightning strike. He starts to curl in on himself, to retreat from the raw power that's setting his spine on fire. Kylo's arms are there to stop him, forcing Ronan to remain stretched flat beneath him.

He gathers up his strength to choke out, "This is what I need." And it is. Nothing - man or dream - has ever given him anything close to the pleasure that Kylo inflicts on him every single day. It would be impossible.

Because no one else possesses him. No one else can take command of every nerve, control every inch of his body, drive him to pure ecstasy and share in the pleasure. When Kylo takes him, they become a single being caught in a cycle of pursuit and release, Kylo racing to fulfill Ronan's need because Ronan's need is also Kylo's.

"Ruin me," he begs, shivering violently. His spine curves. His legs splay. He wants Kylo as deep as he can possibly take him. He would have Kylo climb into his skin, if he could. "I want everything you have for me."

The sweet and the terrible.

There's no escape. Kylo locks Ronan in against himself as he drives into him, crushing any attempt to twist away from the overload— because that isn't really what Ronan wants, only what his trembling body believes it has to do to survive. Kylo will subdue the instinct for him.

They will meet the raw, electric shock of each powerful, slamming thrust together. Kylo holds Ronan under as if he means to drown him, seizes him by every nerve and fibre as he pours himself into becoming not Ronan's undeserved punishment, but his hard-earned reward. He can endure this. He can suffer it— Kylo knows he can, no matter how violently his body shakes for mercy.

"Mine," Kylo hisses, the building pressure of all this bright, blinding pleasure aching to burst forth sparking under his skin. He can feel the devastation rushing towards them. This is an ecstasy they can only face together. This is being his. And it's only for the two of them— what they become, together.

The tighter Kylo holds him, the harder Ronan writhes and struggles. No, he doesn't want to escape, but his body hasn't figured that out. He's screaming again, a sharp cry bursting out of him every time Kylo rocks into him, only there's a different quality to it now, each shout dragging out into a low moan. He sounds like he's being murdered. He sounds like he's enjoying it.

He loses all coherent thought in the rush of sensory input. He's being fucked right out of his mind. His fingers claw wildly at Kylo's arms, and it's hard to tell which one of them is more savage: Kylo in his ravishment or Ronan in his attempt to combat it. Whenever his body jerks against his will, the friction between them only increases. He squeezes and shakes, twists and shudders.

Something finally breaks and Ronan ignites. All at once, the fire inside him rushes outward. His screams die and he gasps voicelessly, quaking and grinding into the thrust that pushes him over. The sheets soak through with his seed, bursts of wet heat filling the narrow space between the bed and his body, crushed beneath Kylo's weight.

Kylo's rough, torn-edged gasps blend into the growing urgency of Ronan's thickly delirious cries as he pushes and pushes and pushes, ruthless and indefatigable. More. More is all he gives in response to Ronan's desperate, shuddering pleas. More is all Ronan will earn for every scrabbling, futile attempt to break free he can't help but make, the building weight of the promised release they're surging towards pressing in on all sides and crushing them together.

Kylo drags them to the summit, but it's Ronan who pulls them over the edge. His body seizes tight around him, trembling, searing, Kylo's coiled grasp tightens as leverage to drive every last fraction of himself deep, deeper, buried— and the break bursts through the both of them in wildfire.

He shatters apart, gasping, bleeding into Ronan's senses as he shudders and spills in wild, violent pulses, spending himself utterly in the claiming heat of Ronan's body. He's filled. He's so full of him, saturated to the core as they fold and collapse together, heaving with exertion in the aftermath.

The euphoria of his own climax carries Ronan through those final moments of brutality. Kylo's seed warms him in throbbing bursts, deep at the center of him, and Ronan voices wordless praise as he exhales. He's so grateful. In spite of everything that came before, it's a holy act to receive Kylo, and he never forgets to be thankful for it.

They sink onto the bed as one. Ronan hugs Kylo's arms against his chest, in case he had any notions of escape (though he probably didn't) and basks in the inundation. Kylo is over him and inside him and around him. Ronan would always have him this way, if he could.

It's not long before the buzz and the adrenaline fade enough for the agony to creep back into his senses. Kylo's conquest has absolutely destroyed Ronan. He's good for nothing now but laying here in Kylo's embrace. Probably, he should fade away rather than attempt to extract his maimed body from spear that's driven through him. Eventually, that's what he'll do. For now, though, he'll endure the ache and keep Kylo cradled inside him for as long as possible. He'd rather be a ruined boy in Kylo's arms than a pleasant and aimless dream.

[IC CONTACT]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject