Viggo's in his top mood again, which explained why Sean was cooking and serving dinner dressed in nothing more than an apron with Spank the Cook emblazoned on the front of it and a pair of thigh-high patent leather boots with a slight wedge heel.
Amazingly, Sean walked quite well in them, but supermodels need not worry about ever losing their jobs to the blond Brit on the catwalk.
Still, the man was rather graceful, seemingly calling up his performance from Caravaggio, temptingly striking dramatic poses, the apron playfully shielding a slowly-growing erection, as he watched with hooded eyes for Viggo’s reactions. He served the dark-haired man with a certain theatrical flourish, always proud of his considerable culinary skills.
Sean’s hair has grown longer, brushing an inch or two below the shoulders, and is slicked back from his rugged face, making his lush bottle-green eyes the focal point. It’s back to its natural honey-blonde shade, though a few strands of silver, so fair as to almost be invisible add depth and richness. As is the rule on nights like this, he’s collared, the Native American-style choker which looks fairly innocuous at a glance reveals the d-ring which is always safely tucked behind his hair. It’s now visible and he’s leashed, enabling the shaggy-haired Dane to pull his lover close for a quick kiss or a teasing slap on the muscular buttocks.
Viggo is the consummate Dominant – firm yet loving, assertive yet compassionate, knowing how to bend Sean but not to break the proud man.
Games like this always whetted the appetite for more elaborate scenes in the playroom later. It still surprised him that the man the phrase ‘a little bit of rough’ was coined for, could be standing in front of him, dressed in practically nothing with a leash around his neck. Not that Sean ever gives into Viggo’s demands easily, and tonight is no exception. He sees the simmering rage that bubbles just below the surface of the smoldering caldera that is Sean.
*
They have a rule between them – the playroom is Viggo’s domain, the bedroom Sean’s, and the rest of the house is subject to whim. Usually Viggo cedes the house to Sean, always with interesting and ball-draining results. This time though, Viggo wants to play and he’s dressed for the occasion. Butter-soft black leather pants fit him as if painted on and sit dangerously low on his narrow hips. A black fishnet t-shirt stretches seductively over his well-built chest and arms.
He’s even wearing shoes – his favourite pair of riding boots which saw him through months of shooting in New Zealand.
*
Sean kneels between Viggo’s spread legs as Viggo feeds him pieces of the succulent chicken cordon bleu the man prepared. That wicked tongue of his, the one that wets the panties of nearly every woman in the world, darts out like a serpent in paradise, tasting the chicken and lingering on Viggo’s flesh, tracing erotic patterns and promises in saliva. Viggo draws in a breath. That act always nearly unravels him. Sean knows this quite well and the look in his eyes is taunting.
“What’s the matter, luv,” he asks silkily in that scalding Yorkshire lilt, drawing the fleshy pink sense organ across his lips slowly, caressingly. “Having a time of it, are we?”
Viggo quickly reins in his emotions and says coolly, “You want me to come undone right now, Bean, you’ll have to do a lot better than my finger, and you do remember the last time you tried that…”
To an outsider, Sean’s defiant demeanor hadn’t changed, but Viggo clearly saw that his words had the effect he’d hoped. The slight hitch in breathing, almost panting, the subtle widening of the eyes, the faint tremor that rocked his body – oh yes, the man definitely remembered. “Isn’t it amazing how basic tantric principles can keep a man hard for hours,” Viggo added as a wicked afterthought. “How is your jaw by the way?”
Sean hisses and Viggo chuckles, pulling the man to him and kisses him softly. “Save the attitude for later,” he whispers in mild warning.
And Sean settles down for the moment as he chews on a stem of steamed asparagus. Viggo is hardly convinced by his lover’s sudden passivity; he knows Sean far too well and knows what’s being cooked up in that mind of his. Sean, forever the stubborn one, will make it a point of honor to test Viggo’s limits and he’d have it no other way. Sean’s defiance and eventual submission are reminders that with surrender comes trust and that trust must be earned. No one else could ever get such a virile man to don a pair of thigh-high boots and to kneel before another man unless Sean had given his love and trust completely.
Not if they didn’t plan on swallowing a couple of teeth that is.
Viggo takes a sip of white wine, then holds the glass up to his collared lover’s lips. Sean takes a sip, and then Viggo pulls him in for a deep kiss in which they share the full-bodied and heady vintage of Sean’s mouth.
Tongues swirl, the kiss blossoms, Viggo drops the leash and grabs a handful of thick strands of harvest gold, stealing his lover’s breath and replacing it with air from his own heaving body.
In slow-motion Viggo releases Sean, gazing into passion-filled yet defiant eyes and kiss-swollen lips. It’s a look he knows very well.
It was going to be another very long and enjoyable evening.
Summary: It was going to be another very long and enjoyable evening.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: KinkChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 949 Read: 828
Published: 30 Jul 2009 Updated: 30 Jul 2009