“I am going to kill you,” Norway struggled against the tie, but Denmark did always know how to hold a man down.
Denmark laughed, low and tinged with darkness, “You of all people should know better. It’s impossible to break out of one of my knots. So just sit back and enjoy the show.”
Norway stilled, choosing to save his energy for thinking up creative ways to murder the Dane whenever this little charade was over. Determined not to give Denmark the pleasure, he stared blankly ahead, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.
Denmark made his intentions clear quickly and effectively as spread his long legs on either side of Norway’s chair, giving him an eyeful of the bulge in his pants. In spite of his best intentions, Norway’s breath caught.
Denmark, casually, carefully started unbuttoning his shirt, humming to himself and shifting his hips back and forth ever so slightly with each button that came undone. It was a little hypnotic. Norway licked his lips, mouth gone dry, as Denmark dropped the shirt at his feet, broad chest on display. The bastard ran his hands over his arms, and then let his fingers drift over his nipples, his sigh echoing in the office’s evening quiet.
As Denmark trailed his fingers lower, lower, Norway’s eyes unable to keep themselves from following the movement, he started talking, tone intimate and dirty, “So freaking frustrating, Norge.”
His zipper came down, the sound echoing in Norway’s ears, “I can’t ever tell what’s going on in that mind of yours. Always running so hot and cold.”
He shimmied a little, letting his pants and boxers slide down slightly, revealing the sharp hipbones that Norway secretly loved to lick, “Since you never tell me anything, I’m going to tell you what’s on my mind.”
Now Denmark had his cock in hand, hard and ready. Always wanton and a little showy, he titled his head back. Norway wanted to bite his throat, struggling once again to relieve himself of his bonds.
Stroking himself, running his thumb across the tip of his cock, jerking forward each time he did so, Denmark continued talking, (always talking), voice going scratchy, “I walk in, been waiting to see you all week, and, fuck, I just want to touch you all over. Wanna throw you over my lap and kiss you until you beg me for it.”
Norway moaned, he couldn’t help it, he was so hard now, pulling against the tie, wrists starting to chafe. Denmark moved off the table, sliding one knee on to the chair between Norway’s legs, putting just enough pressure on Norway’s aching cock to be an unsatisfying tease. Denmark’s own dick was now so close to his face, Norway thought he could feel its heat on his cheek.
But Denmark wasn’t looking at him, continuing to stroke himself, faster, harder as he tripped over his words, breath coming in shallow pants, “Push you down on your desk, spread you open and fuck you so hard you feel me for days.”
Norway was hot, so hot he was going crazy. He wanted Denmark to look at him, wanted to watch his face as he came undone.
Denmark’s strokes were now uneven and hurried as he bent even closer to Norway, “Want, I want,”
Norway couldn’t take it anymore, breathlessly ordering, “Look at me!”
Denmark’s eyes snapped to his, the connection electric and immediate, pushing Denmark over the edge as he came long and hot over Norway’s face and neck.
Part 18--DenNor, Attention Whore (2/3)
Denmark laughed, low and tinged with darkness, “You of all people should know better. It’s impossible to break out of one of my knots. So just sit back and enjoy the show.”
Norway stilled, choosing to save his energy for thinking up creative ways to murder the Dane whenever this little charade was over. Determined not to give Denmark the pleasure, he stared blankly ahead, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.
Denmark made his intentions clear quickly and effectively as spread his long legs on either side of Norway’s chair, giving him an eyeful of the bulge in his pants. In spite of his best intentions, Norway’s breath caught.
Denmark, casually, carefully started unbuttoning his shirt, humming to himself and shifting his hips back and forth ever so slightly with each button that came undone. It was a little hypnotic. Norway licked his lips, mouth gone dry, as Denmark dropped the shirt at his feet, broad chest on display. The bastard ran his hands over his arms, and then let his fingers drift over his nipples, his sigh echoing in the office’s evening quiet.
As Denmark trailed his fingers lower, lower, Norway’s eyes unable to keep themselves from following the movement, he started talking, tone intimate and dirty, “So freaking frustrating, Norge.”
His zipper came down, the sound echoing in Norway’s ears, “I can’t ever tell what’s going on in that mind of yours. Always running so hot and cold.”
He shimmied a little, letting his pants and boxers slide down slightly, revealing the sharp hipbones that Norway secretly loved to lick, “Since you never tell me anything, I’m going to tell you what’s on my mind.”
Now Denmark had his cock in hand, hard and ready. Always wanton and a little showy, he titled his head back. Norway wanted to bite his throat, struggling once again to relieve himself of his bonds.
Stroking himself, running his thumb across the tip of his cock, jerking forward each time he did so, Denmark continued talking, (always talking), voice going scratchy, “I walk in, been waiting to see you all week, and, fuck, I just want to touch you all over. Wanna throw you over my lap and kiss you until you beg me for it.”
Norway moaned, he couldn’t help it, he was so hard now, pulling against the tie, wrists starting to chafe. Denmark moved off the table, sliding one knee on to the chair between Norway’s legs, putting just enough pressure on Norway’s aching cock to be an unsatisfying tease. Denmark’s own dick was now so close to his face, Norway thought he could feel its heat on his cheek.
But Denmark wasn’t looking at him, continuing to stroke himself, faster, harder as he tripped over his words, breath coming in shallow pants, “Push you down on your desk, spread you open and fuck you so hard you feel me for days.”
Norway was hot, so hot he was going crazy. He wanted Denmark to look at him, wanted to watch his face as he came undone.
Denmark’s strokes were now uneven and hurried as he bent even closer to Norway, “Want, I want,”
Norway couldn’t take it anymore, breathlessly ordering, “Look at me!”
Denmark’s eyes snapped to his, the connection electric and immediate, pushing Denmark over the edge as he came long and hot over Norway’s face and neck.