[He doesn't have any control for long as Wash pulls him down further, and dragging himself back up by his awkward grip on the headboard isn't going to work. Pietro lets go of the frame then, letting his fingers twitch and spasm and vibrate, twisting his wrists and rubbing against the coils of rope, mindless sort of movements he doesn't seem completely aware of. He squirms as Wash lifts his hips and gives him even less movement, those fingers pressing hard into his ass and reminding him of the bruises left behind there that first night on the couch. Even as he growls in irritation, Pietro doesn't take his eyes off Wash, whining with every twist of his tongue, muscles quivering around it.
His thigh burns with the next drag of the knife, sharp pricks of pain drawing hot arousal through his abdomen and down to his twitching cock. His frustration hits peak after the second time Wash has taken a break from his tonguing and builds up sensation at Pietro's cock, his balls, just enough before retreating back, tongue driving deep as Wash's rumbling growls reverberate inside him. Pietro can't stand it, muscles twitching all over, squirming impatiently, every tendon in his body tense and jerky.]
Is this what you get off on, old man? Not letting anyone else participate?
[His tone is snappy and terse, with just a hint of underlying pleading in it, but Pietro refuses to phrase it as "let me touch something".]
no subject
[He doesn't have any control for long as Wash pulls him down further, and dragging himself back up by his awkward grip on the headboard isn't going to work. Pietro lets go of the frame then, letting his fingers twitch and spasm and vibrate, twisting his wrists and rubbing against the coils of rope, mindless sort of movements he doesn't seem completely aware of. He squirms as Wash lifts his hips and gives him even less movement, those fingers pressing hard into his ass and reminding him of the bruises left behind there that first night on the couch. Even as he growls in irritation, Pietro doesn't take his eyes off Wash, whining with every twist of his tongue, muscles quivering around it.
His thigh burns with the next drag of the knife, sharp pricks of pain drawing hot arousal through his abdomen and down to his twitching cock. His frustration hits peak after the second time Wash has taken a break from his tonguing and builds up sensation at Pietro's cock, his balls, just enough before retreating back, tongue driving deep as Wash's rumbling growls reverberate inside him. Pietro can't stand it, muscles twitching all over, squirming impatiently, every tendon in his body tense and jerky.]
Is this what you get off on, old man? Not letting anyone else participate?
[His tone is snappy and terse, with just a hint of underlying pleading in it, but Pietro refuses to phrase it as "let me touch something".]