Chase responds so beautifully to everything. He’s giving himself away with that soft whimper, how being told to behave isn’t too far, and that it works on him. When Chase reacted to the swat on his ass, House carried on working him open, but he also sort of leans his body away simultaneously, head tilted to get the best view of the way he jerks against the ropes, fighting them with all he’s got left. He definitely hasn’t gotten his fill of watching Chase squirm when he’s bound and being beaten. Not by a long shot. He’d only considered it in passing fantasy before, but now that he’s had a taste, he’s going to crave it.
The threat works, the warning that if he can’t ease him open then he’s not getting fucked. Truth be told, House was pretty confident that he could get him there, but if it took too long then his leg would start to throw a wrench in the proceedings. He’s glad that doesn’t become an issue, glad to feel Chase giving in, soft and pliant beneath his hands and guidance. He’s still shaky and nowhere near quiet as he works him open, and House can’t imagine a scenario he’d want to gag him for. He likes hearing him, he’s turned on by the soft moans and the little, frustrated sounds, like he’s not sure how much longer he can stand it. That’s not true of everyone, but Chase is just gifted in spades, gorgeous, kinky and fucking sexy to listen to.
He reacts well to the encouragement. Better, almost. He quiets, then, manages to relax a little more, and he’s moving - it looks like he’s trying to shift, spread his legs - as if he really could - but the thought there is almost endearing. It’s three now, and he lingers with just that, carefully avoiding his prostate just yet. Finally it feels like enough, like Chase could handle a little more, like he’s relaxed enough that it’s not going to hurt him more than it will to just have pressure against his tender ass. He makes a pass with his free hand over one sore cheek, rubbing gently, adding it to the mix to feel his reaction and be sure that he won’t flinch and tense up. He does a little, but it’s not too much, not enough that he’s concerned, and really he needs so badly to fuck him that he’d have been hard pressed to wait much longer.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, voice soft and low, and finally his hands come away from Chase completely, but the moves forwards just a bit so that his hip is pressed against Chase’s ass, that one bound foot brushes against his thigh, gives him a point of contact. When he’d had to go fetch the lube, he hadn’t had much option, but he’s aware of the probable need for contact, a connection, to know where he is in space especially now. He spreads lube over his cock, hand curled around himself to make sure there’s plenty of it, and then he’s not wasting time in coming back. He’d by lying if he’d said that he hadn’t tied Chase at this height for precisely this reason. The head of his cock nudges in-between Chase’s bright red cheeks and he grabs hold of him by the hips and pulls him back, feels himself beginning to sink inside him not quite easily. It’s slow, but it’s fucking good, and House pauses for a second, just takes a tight breath through gritted teeth and manages, “Just relax…”
no subject
The threat works, the warning that if he can’t ease him open then he’s not getting fucked. Truth be told, House was pretty confident that he could get him there, but if it took too long then his leg would start to throw a wrench in the proceedings. He’s glad that doesn’t become an issue, glad to feel Chase giving in, soft and pliant beneath his hands and guidance. He’s still shaky and nowhere near quiet as he works him open, and House can’t imagine a scenario he’d want to gag him for. He likes hearing him, he’s turned on by the soft moans and the little, frustrated sounds, like he’s not sure how much longer he can stand it. That’s not true of everyone, but Chase is just gifted in spades, gorgeous, kinky and fucking sexy to listen to.
He reacts well to the encouragement. Better, almost. He quiets, then, manages to relax a little more, and he’s moving - it looks like he’s trying to shift, spread his legs - as if he really could - but the thought there is almost endearing. It’s three now, and he lingers with just that, carefully avoiding his prostate just yet. Finally it feels like enough, like Chase could handle a little more, like he’s relaxed enough that it’s not going to hurt him more than it will to just have pressure against his tender ass. He makes a pass with his free hand over one sore cheek, rubbing gently, adding it to the mix to feel his reaction and be sure that he won’t flinch and tense up. He does a little, but it’s not too much, not enough that he’s concerned, and really he needs so badly to fuck him that he’d have been hard pressed to wait much longer.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, voice soft and low, and finally his hands come away from Chase completely, but the moves forwards just a bit so that his hip is pressed against Chase’s ass, that one bound foot brushes against his thigh, gives him a point of contact. When he’d had to go fetch the lube, he hadn’t had much option, but he’s aware of the probable need for contact, a connection, to know where he is in space especially now. He spreads lube over his cock, hand curled around himself to make sure there’s plenty of it, and then he’s not wasting time in coming back. He’d by lying if he’d said that he hadn’t tied Chase at this height for precisely this reason. The head of his cock nudges in-between Chase’s bright red cheeks and he grabs hold of him by the hips and pulls him back, feels himself beginning to sink inside him not quite easily. It’s slow, but it’s fucking good, and House pauses for a second, just takes a tight breath through gritted teeth and manages, “Just relax…”