He grasps at Burr, digs his fingers in, no, no -- breaking the knotting early is something almost painful, dislodging like tearing away, almost like rejection. He knows it isn't, obviously he knows it isn't. Burr's intentions couldn't be more transparent. And yet it's something of a shock to the system. His cock stiffens as his knot subsides, his heart beating quick, his glands and humors prepared again for a mating. For claiming, because he must assert his claim, now.
But first -- Alexander pulls open a cabinet, takes an older cravat, two, three. The first, he knots around Burr's wrists. It isn't particularly good, as a knot; it wouldn't do to restrain a determined captive, he imagines. "If you called out," he says, "they'd find you. Would you call out, darling? Would you make sure the searchers find you here, dripping wet and used?"
It binds Burr with his arms in front of him. Then, he manhandles Burr onto his side, down to the edge of the bed, and tying his ankles. Then his knees, too, fixing his legs together.
"There," he says. "Too much trouble to get to your cunt, especially with that belly in the way," with a light slap to that heavy bulge. "But you're wet and weeping for me." He slides his cock so it rests between the lips of Burr's cunt, smearing it wet. "You don't even need me to stretch you, do you?" He presses the head of his cock at Burr's hole, testing to see if it will give. Sometimes, depending on how hard Hamilton fucks him, how messy they've been, Burr doesn't really need any extra slick or stretching here.
no subject
But first -- Alexander pulls open a cabinet, takes an older cravat, two, three. The first, he knots around Burr's wrists. It isn't particularly good, as a knot; it wouldn't do to restrain a determined captive, he imagines. "If you called out," he says, "they'd find you. Would you call out, darling? Would you make sure the searchers find you here, dripping wet and used?"
It binds Burr with his arms in front of him. Then, he manhandles Burr onto his side, down to the edge of the bed, and tying his ankles. Then his knees, too, fixing his legs together.
"There," he says. "Too much trouble to get to your cunt, especially with that belly in the way," with a light slap to that heavy bulge. "But you're wet and weeping for me." He slides his cock so it rests between the lips of Burr's cunt, smearing it wet. "You don't even need me to stretch you, do you?" He presses the head of his cock at Burr's hole, testing to see if it will give. Sometimes, depending on how hard Hamilton fucks him, how messy they've been, Burr doesn't really need any extra slick or stretching here.