My Adoribull - What You Want of Me
Read Part One Here
Dorian smiled his small, secret smile. The one the Bull liked to think he saved just for him. “How would I touch you?”
The Bull’s mouth felt dry as he tried to figure out what Dorian wanted him to say. He looked into the other man’s eyes and tried to read his desires there. But all he saw were questions he didn’t know if he had answers to.
What did he want?
He wanted what Dorian wanted.
He wanted to be wanted. Needed. He wanted a purpose to serve and a place to belong.
But that hardly seemed like the answer Dorian was looking for. So he kept his peace.
“Would I touch you here?” Dorian asked as he trailed his nails over the Bull’s thigh, scraping at the sensitive crease of his leg just beneath the leather of his belt.
The Bull’s breath hitched as skin so often protected felt breached. Exposed. Naked beneath the layers of cloth. “That’s good,” he grunted. And not, at the same time. It left him vulnerable in a way that didn't sit well with him. But, for Dorian, he could handle it. He swallowed again. “Real good.”
“Good,” Dorian said as he shifted a bit on the bed. He reached up for the clasp of the Bull’s harness over his large, now heaving chest. “Very good.”
The Bull held his breath as he watched those nimble hands work the leather off him. He didn’t understand this. Didn’t get the rules. He felt Dorian’s sweet mouth kiss the heart of his chest as he lay the harness off to the side, before his tender lips trailed hot brushes down over his middle while Dorian’s hands made short work of his belt. He shook his head, trying to clear it. No, he needed to think. Needed to make sense of this. Needed to regain control.
“How about this?” Dorian asked, his face all but pressed up against the Bull’s needy flesh as he dragged his trousers down off his hips slowly. Dorian carefully worked it over the Bull’s erection, all without his delicate hands ever touching him beyond the briefest touch. It was an exquisite tease. Dorian placed a kiss—a glistening mark of lips and tongue—just above his belly before he tugged the Bull’s trousers to his knees.
The Bull felt his body strain, reaching in a need to touch. He reached out to grab Dorian by the waist, so he could reverse their positions and press the smaller man into the mattress.
But Dorian stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “My turn this time,” Dorian insisted, “remember? All you have to do is lay back and enjoy.” Suddenly, Dorian sat straight and smiled, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes. “In fact...”
The Bull sat up as Dorian scuttled off the bed before disappearing over the edge. After a bit of scrounging, Dorian stood up, that gleam making the Bull wary, as the mage began to unwind a bundle of rope. “Uhh,” the Bull grunted.
“Forgive me, if I do this wrong,” Dorian said as he climbed onto the bed to straddle the Bull’s wide hips, the press of his cock against the mage’s thigh almost obscene, “I don’t exactly do this as often as you.”
The Bull gritted his teeth as Dorian’s hips moved over him, as all of his body pressed all along his own, while the squirrely mage reached up to tie the Bull’s wrists together behind his neck. The Bull breathed deep, smelling the sweet scent of the man as his nose touched Dorian’s throat. God, he smelled good. He leaned forward to lick the delicate hollow, that dip of skin.
“Ah, ah,” he heard Dorian say as he yanked the Bull’s bound hands back. “Behave,” he warned as he gave the Bull a stern stare. “If you think you can.”
The Bull thought about that as Dorian laid him back onto the bed. The rules were definitely changing. Turning on their face. Don’t do what you normally do. Let me do. He nodded slightly. Okay. He could play that game.
Curious, he pulled against the rope knotted around his wrists. It was a good hold. He smiled. Not bad for his first time.
“You are so large,” he heard Dorian comment softly, more to himself than to anyone.
The Bull chuckled, adjusting his neck so he could rest his head and horns on his arms. “Thanks for noticing,” he said with a lewd hip thrust.
“I mean, all over,” Dorian said scoldingly. “So much larger than most people.” He laid his hands on the Bull’s chest, his hands so small over the wide expanse. “You’re so powerful and strong. A formidable force. If you wanted to get free right now, you could, couldn’t you?”
The Bull shrugged. Break his thumb, twist free. If he had to. But that was the point of the game. When the roles were reversed, all Dorian ever had to do was say the word and the Bull would set him free. It was only really fun to be caught by someone you knew, at any time you wanted, would set you free.
Dorian sighed and pouted. “This is still all about what I want, isn’t it?” he asked. “You’ll lay there and let me...” He waved his hand dismissively. “All because I asked you to.” He frowned. “Why have you never asked me to?”
The prone Qunari shrugged. “Figured, if you wanted to touch, you’d do it. You didn’t.” Which was fine. He could understand that. He sucked in a breath as he felt the Tevinter’s refined fingers trace a large, matted scar that slashed across his chest. Just one of many marring his war-hewn body. He clenched his fists, feeling the asymmetrical loss on his left hand, as he took in the perfection of Dorian's form. Seeing the mage's frown deepen, he assured him, “Hey, don’t worry about it.” There were many, many, many ways to get off, so who was he to complain?
“I’m sorry,” Dorian whispered into the air. He shook his head. He sighed and ran his hands down the deep vee of the Bull’s waist. “I feel like I should know how to do all this better,” he told him longingly. “I wish it didn’t feel as though I were stumbling my way through blindly.” He shut his eyes and turned away slightly. “I feel like, for all that we do together, I’m the one who always ends up hurting you. And I never wanted that. I’d always thought,” he said with a sullen lift of his shoulder, “that, when it mattered—if I ever found someone who mattered—I would know how to do it right.”
The Bull frowned. He wanted to correct him. Wanted to assure him that he was fine. That he could take it. But the Keeper of Illusions bit his tongue. Because, bound beneath the man above him, with the taste of unspoken truths on both their tongues, it felt harder to lie.
Strange games indeed.
"God, how I hate confession," the mage sighed.
The Bull frowned, not liking the hurt and shame on the other man’s fine features. With a forced laugh, the Bull said, deciding they both needed a much lighter mood, “Well, seems to me, that you were doing just fine before you decided to try to talk me into climax. Let’s get back to that and see what happens, huh?”
Dorian stifled a laugh. “Fair enough.” He gripped the Bull’s hips. “I suppose it’s fine that you’re only doing this because I asked. Even if that’s true,” he said as he teased the thin skin covering the Bull’s hipbones, “I still want to give this to you.” His hand—that only slightly shook—reached out to grasp the Bull’s cock. “Just,” he said as he leaned down, licking his lips nervously, “it’s never been like this—not quite—so you’ll have to tell me if I’m doing this right.”
The Bull moaned as he felt Dorian’s mouth slide slickly over him. “Sure feels like you know what you’re doing.” His wrists twisted in the rope’s grasp as he felt Dorian’s chuckle reverberated over his skin. Goddamn, that was good. Dorian’s tongue was a wonder, swirling and stroking, while his hand gripped and moved over his dick. He bit his lip as pleasure built inside him. He wanted to thrust faster. Or maybe to slow this all down. But, tied up and held down, it was out of his hands. It was odd and unsettling, caught by ecstasy that left him unbalanced.
He looked down and met the other man’s gaze. Hot and determined, Dorian’s eyes burned. Felt like a tactile stroke of its own. The Bull lifted his head to watch Dorian take him in his mouth, the look and feel of the act so carnal he felt himself race toward his end. The Bull gasped as Dorian scraped his nails over the inside of his thigh—something the Bull was always fond of doing to the mage—tearing his orgasm from him with a roaring cry.
For a long moment, pleasure rocked him. He felt adrift in a world of sensation. His heart thundered and his lungs burned with each breath.
He choked on a laugh as someone pounded on the wall.
So much for discretion.
He heard Dorian chuckle softly as he gave his cock one last lick before climbing up the Bull’s panting body.
“Damn, kadan,” the Bull breathed as Dorian untied him. “Just...damn.”
Dorian preened as he tucked the rope under the bed again. “Too right,” he said smugly. “Now, next time I ask you what you want, you’ll have your answer, right?”
The Bull let out a laughing yawn as Dorian moved to lie sprawled over his chest, the silken slide of the mage’s body against his sweat-soaked skin both miraculous and profane. While he’d definitely enjoyed what Dorian had done—no question about that, not while his body still felt sticky with the evidence of that—as he tucked his now free hand behind his head and stared out into the dark, he wondered if maybe, in the morning light, he would find the words to tell Dorian what it was he really wanted.
Read my companion Adoribull fanfic "Watch Words" for Dorian's response.
Don't forget to check out the post that started this all
"Riding The Iron Bull - Kink and Dragon Age: Inquisition"
Not to mention my Gender-Swapped Iron Bull Cosplay
And please check out my other stuff here.
And, as always, enjoy!