Isaak was awakened by lips and tongue on the side of his neck, soft sucking kisses rousing him from his deep slumber.
"Mmmmnnn... Di, you know you are not supposed to be in Lord Nightroad's room... Even if I am here..." he mumbled groggily.
"No, he isn't, and I'm glad you would tell him so..." That voice was not that of Dietrich... It was soft, just louder than a whisper... And arms that were far too long to be the Puppet Master's curled around Isaak's waist. Isaak twitched, startled, and his eyes shot open.
"My Lord!" he sat bolt upright, finding his white-robed Lord to be laying beside him on the bed, one arm still wrapped around the Magician's waist, "I... I thought you were not returning until tomorrow!"
"Well, I decided to come back today. Is that a problem?"
"N-no, my Lord, I did not expect... I did not prepare... Please, is there anything I can get you?" Cain smiled, and shook his golden-haired head.
"Not now, no. Not until everyone else gets up, Isaak. The sun isn't even down yet."
"A-are you certain?"
"Do you want to know what I'd like?" Isaak nodded, "I would like you," Cain pulled Isaak back down to rest on the bed beside him, curled close to him, "To relax and just let me admire your body..." he carded his fingers through Isaak's long, black hair, tilting his head back to kiss him passionately, deeply. The kind of kiss that always caught Isaak off guard and made him woozy with pleasure. He sighed deeply when he was released, snuggling closer to Cain's chest. The Krusnik stroked up and down Isaak's back slowly, kissing along the vein in his neck,
"You're so modest, Isaak..."
"What? What do you mean?"
"No matter what, the only time you sleep naked is when you had a reason the night before to get undressed. Some mornings I'd like to be able to touch you without removing clothing first... But it can always be easily dealt with..." Cain's ungloved hands glided across the skin of Isaak's thighs, taking the off-white fabric of his nightshirt with them, sliding up under his rear, coming to stop on the Magician's lower back. Isaak's hands clutched at Cain's back gently as he was bared. "But you never wear anything underneath..." he nipped affectionately at Isaak's jaw, "I like that about you..."
Isaak couldn't remember being as charged this early in the morning as he was now. He'd been anticipating his Lord's return for quite some time, and had been so thoroughly aroused for days that Dietrich had gotten all of his attention (a fact that Dietrich sure as hell wasn't complaining about). Now, Cain was stroking him, petting and caressing the Magician in such a way, he showed that the opportunity was there should Isaak want it, but he knew he was free to reject Cain's offer if he was more in the mood for sleeping. As of now, he certainly wasn't.
He pulled closer, capturing Cain's lips for another kiss, sliding his hands across the Krusnik's chest and to his shoulders, massaging the back of his neck. Cain's hands slid back down, over his rear, and he grasped roughly, holding Isaak against him, plundering deep into his mouth before rolling to his back with Isaak on top. Isaak straddled the other's slender waist, leaning down as Cain tilted his head back, kissing along his neck and down to his collar bones as he unsnapped the golden clasps of his white robe. Cain purred softly, and ran his hands up Isaak's thighs and beneath his night shirt to touch him, just barely brushing soft, sensitive flesh every time Isaak did something he liked in particular. Isaak would gasp occasionally when the touches became more firm, more direct, but would continue his trek down Cain's hard body, unzipping the robe as he went, following that line straight to his waist. He looked up at his Master, who wore a pleased smile. Cain looked down after a few moments.
"Go on, Isaak..." he muttered, his thumbs making circles on the Magician's inner thighs. Isaak smiled, thrusting against those fingers with a soft sigh, his palms smoothing across Cain's skin, along his stomach and down his sides, pulling the fabric aside and the zipper apart further. Then, he leaned down, fastening his lips to Cain's lower abdomen, reluctantly pulling away from his circling fingers. His tongue traced the soft, hairless skin far below Cain's waist, opening his robe to reveal that he was only half hard, but Isaak knew what needed to be done to get his Master properly aroused. There was a rather sensitive spot high up on the Krusnik's inner thigh, which Isaak attacked immediately with his teeth as soon as Cain's robe was completely unzipped.
"Ooh..." Cain muttered, smiling still, though such a spot made him whine in a needy fashion if Isaak kept up his teasing. He knew that no one else would be allowed to see that, and if they were to, Cain would promptly behead them. The same was the case with Isaak; if anyone were to see him in the state that Cain put him in after only a few moments of heated lovemaking (other than Dietrich who knew what Cain did to him), he'd tear them apart limb by limb, then leave their dismembered bodies to his beloved creations, the Schatten Cohort.
Occasionally, when he'd take his tongue across a new spot on that porcelain skin, Cain's toes would fan, he would huff in a seemingly irritated manner, or a single hand would fidget slightly in the sheets, and only Isaak knew these were signs that he was doing his job right. Isaak's middle finger traced the contours of Cain's side, down the crease between his leg and groin, then circled the base of his hardening member, offering a single, slow stroke. This time, as Isaak moved to the other thigh, he sucked instead of biting.
"Uh!" Cain gasped, his back lifting from the bed in a graceful arc, and Isaak jerked away, fearing he had gone too far this time, looking up. Cain was looking back, his skin alight with a blush that was unlike him, and Isaak could see the slightest hint of malice in the corners of those beautiful blue eyes. The silent threat softened, and his head dropped back to the pillows, asking for more. Slowly, the Magician crept back up, knowing that now was the time for lubrication; he wasn't sure how much more of that Cain would tolerate, and to be unprepared for when he took the lead was not something Isaak planned on. After all, Cain would take what he could, whether it was comfortable for Isaak or not, and Isaak didn't want to have to make excuses to the rest of the Order about a limp again.
Closing his hand around the rather large bottle of lube that he kept in the nightstand drawer, Isaak retook his place between Cain's outstretched legs, pouring some of the contents onto one hand before setting it on the floor. His slicked hand stroked the length of Cain's erection, while he once again dared to go for the spot that had made Cain cry out. Cain growled and clenched his hands, but did not react otherwise.
He moved inward with his mouth then, closing the distance between his stroking hand and his lips, and happened to notice that Cain's fingers were pulling roughly on the bedclothes, his muscles clenching in effort to keep any needy sounds bit back, and with one last flick of Isaak's tongue, one hand left the sheets and was in Isaak's hair, pulling enough to make the Methuselah flinch.
"Enough..." Cain gasped, "That's... Enough..." Isaak promptly sat up, and so did Cain, dragging Isaak to lay beside him, pushing Isaak's nightshirt out of the way, but he did not remove it. His own robe did not leave him either.
"I apologize, Lord..." Isaak muttered, their lips a hair's breadth away.
"Don't," he said softly before rolling over on top of Isaak, their lips melded as one, positioning himself to take his subordinate. Isaak stiffened, lifting his bent knees and clutching Cain as he was impaled by that erection, moaning softly as Cain's unyielding dominance was so obviously shown. He sighed when Cain settled deep within him, more relieved than he would say that Cain still found him desirable. The blond man wasted no time in falling into a smooth rhythm, sliding against Isaak, managing to find that one spot inside him that was ridiculously sensitive, the one that would have him trembling and moaning brazenly in a matter of moments.
As Isaak suspected, Cain never let up on that one spot, never allowed Isaak to get out of this to regain his pride, instead thrusting harder, savoring the heated yelps and suppressed moaning, Isaak's arching spine and tightening muscles. Cain grasped the sheets firmly, keeping Isaak in the exact same position with every punishing motion, and through Isaak's gasping he heard the faint beeping that was emitted by Isaak's earpiece, the same sound it made when someone was trying to contact him. It was slightly annoying to the Krusnik's sensitive ears, and he slowed for a moment so Isaak could hear it, and hopefully answer. Isaak groped blindly at the nightstand until his fingers touched the electronic object, then he brought it to his ear and inserted it, pressing the button,
"Y-yes? What... What do you need?" he did his best to suppress the exertion in his voice, but Cain wasn't going to wait for him to finish, and started again, aiming a little more directly this time at Isaak's prostate. Isaak arched, his mouth agape in a silent moan.
"You should come down for breakfast, Isaak. Balthasar's made something really good, and I think you'd like it." It was Dietrich.
"Oh... That's... That's wonderful... I will come down in a little while..."
"Isaak? Are you all right?" Isaak covered the speaker just in time for several loud, pronounced moans to pass,
"Lord Nightroad!" he cried.
"Isaak?" He uncovered the speaker, trying to sound calm,
"Yes... Yes, Di, I am... FINE... Really."
"Well, have you heard from Master Cain?"
"Hhhhohhhhh yes... Yes I..." he had nearly let a moan slip past, and just as he thought it was safe to speak, Cain thrust again, "DIETRICH! RIGHT NOW!" he yelped.
"W-what? Right now what?" he sounded fearful, as if he had done something wrong, but Isaak needed to end this conversation now before it was too late.
"L-Lord Cain! He is... HERE! NOW!" Hopefully that got the message across, because he had to cover the speaker once again, "AH!"
"Oh! Oh, I—Isaak, I—I'll let you go!" he sounded panicked, and clicked his radio off. Isaak did the same, tossing it back to its place on the table, allowing him to grip Cain's shoulders and tell him how good it felt through a new series of unbridled whines, the nibbling at his throat making him toss his head from side to side. He knew what was coming—the insertion of razor sharp fangs into the tender flesh of his neck—but he had to be on the verge of climax before Cain would actually bite, to ensure that it was the least painful for him.
Isaak could feel his finish now, well within his reach, but he was not quite there... Not yet. Cain was close too, Isaak could tell by the slight rippling of his muscles beneath his skin now and then, so it was only a matter of time. Cain held him closer, and Isaak's hands tightened on Cain's white-clothed shoulders, his back arching one last time, neck exposed and mouth ajar,
"M-my Lord!" and Cain clamped his jaws hard on the Methuselah's throat, drawing blood with his fangs, riding through both of their orgasms with the same, unrelenting pace of his hips. Isaak cried out in ecstasy, his pleasure leaving him in spurts, Cain's moans muffled against his skin. Both relaxed, Isaak's panting breaking the silence of the room. Cain wasn't even phased. Ah, the beauty of being a Krusnik...
Cain lay there, licking the blood as it oozed from Isaak's wound, listening as the Magician's panting slowed gradually. As soon as the puncture wounds healed over, Cain lifted himself from Isaak, stroking his cheek, and looked down at the slick, white mess that coated the both of them. Sex was messy, particularly between men, and it could be easily solved with a nice, hot bath, which he was sure Isaak would be more than happy to join him for.
"Why don't you give me a bath, and then we'll go down and join the others?"
"That sounds wonderful," Isaak smiled.