Prompt: Kirk, McCoy – New sensation
Succumb
Jim could feel the long tails of the cloth used to blindfold him resting against the skin of his bare back, tips nearly reaching his ass. Every time he shifted or gasped out a breath they moved slightly, a brief tickling sensation against sensitized skin, an echo of the sensations causing him to move in the first place.
The darkness offered by the blindfold was absolute and contributed to his disorientation and the feeling that time had no meaning so long as he was here. So long as he was obedient and patient. So long as he waited.
Bones was nearly silent in his work, leaving Jim with only the sound of his own gasping breaths. Often, Jim would have no indication of which direction Bones would come from or what his goal would be until he was already there: a brush of fingers across his shoulders, the press of a thigh against his hip, the scrap of teeth across his lip, all designed to keep him on edge, to keep him waiting.
When he felt the ghosting of breath across his waiting cock his entire body tensed and he very nearly lost the battle, the one waged against his own control. Through sheer determination did he maintain his pose, kneeling on the cushioned floor, his back straight and his hands resting against his parted thighs.
When it was clear that he'd maintained control of himself he heard a soft chuckle, half-imagined, and a gravelly voice whispering, ″Very good.″
Before he could even feel the pride or irritation or whichever of the jumble of emotions that would ultimately win out, a warm, wet mouth enveloped him and his mind stuttered and stopped. A low cry escaped his mouth, but he didn't care, didn't choke it off, didn't want, need, anything other than more and more of that mouth.
″I- I need-″ He panted, arched his back, but didn't move his hands, didn't give in to the urge to grasp at the head poised over him or clutch at the hair that tickled his abdomen. ″Please!″ His plea was hoarse and choked, unlike anything he could have managed face-to-face, in the light.
He felt the hands gripping his hips and easing him forwards, the encouragement to lean back, to allow the mouth, those hands more access to his body, more access to his need.
He gave it, willingly.