[ It's chaotic and ruthless and Spock has never come so hard in his life when he spends himself inside of the other man. And still, after the high rolls over and off him, once he shudders and catches his breath, Spock finds he is still not done, and rocks into the older man again. Bones breaks with it, but Spock doesn't stop. He rides the other man for as long as it takes to reach his third release of the night, his strokes waxing and waning between grinding deep and almost lazily to hard enough that his hips slap the other's ass enough to redden it up and make the most obscene noises fill the room.
Maybe Bones finds his fourth orgasm, Spock can no longer tell because the man has been reduced to something so beautifully pliant beneath him, just taking and taking him and it is absolutely perfect in this moment. Either the other man's mind has become a complete blank or they have melded into one being without the need for touching psi-points; at this point, Spock's own mind is fully committed to the churn of his hips and his building release. His third orgasm isn't as hard as his last, but it's more overwhelming, full-bodied, oh, it feels like he's being bled dry but he likes it, welcomes it.
Afterwards, he drapes the sharp heat of his body over the one beneath him, cauterizing ( not literally ) the wounds there and trying to cover the doctor as much as he can with himself. He doesn't know how long it took him to get here, or how long he is just laying there on top of Bones, breathing into his neck and shoulder, but he is utterly spent. McCoy will come to with Spock's cock still buried, if softening, inside of him, with the Vulcan's weight keeping him pinned to the mattress like a long, lean bag full of burning coals, and be reminded exactly who he belongs to. Spock is content to languish for a while. He's never felt so complete, ever. Hell, he didn't even know anything was missing from him.
For once he is incapable of over-thinking and enjoys the moment, positioned in this half possessive, half protective drape over his mate. For a biological imperative he found so shameful, for him this is probably the best sex he's ever had. Eventually his cock will retract its way back inside of its sheath, but unless McCoy moves him, Spock is just going to stay right here. If he's allowed, it's likely he'll even doze, face tucked into the crook of the older man's neck. ]
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Maybe Bones finds his fourth orgasm, Spock can no longer tell because the man has been reduced to something so beautifully pliant beneath him, just taking and taking him and it is absolutely perfect in this moment. Either the other man's mind has become a complete blank or they have melded into one being without the need for touching psi-points; at this point, Spock's own mind is fully committed to the churn of his hips and his building release. His third orgasm isn't as hard as his last, but it's more overwhelming, full-bodied, oh, it feels like he's being bled dry but he likes it, welcomes it.
Afterwards, he drapes the sharp heat of his body over the one beneath him, cauterizing ( not literally ) the wounds there and trying to cover the doctor as much as he can with himself. He doesn't know how long it took him to get here, or how long he is just laying there on top of Bones, breathing into his neck and shoulder, but he is utterly spent. McCoy will come to with Spock's cock still buried, if softening, inside of him, with the Vulcan's weight keeping him pinned to the mattress like a long, lean bag full of burning coals, and be reminded exactly who he belongs to. Spock is content to languish for a while. He's never felt so complete, ever. Hell, he didn't even know anything was missing from him.
For once he is incapable of over-thinking and enjoys the moment, positioned in this half possessive, half protective drape over his mate. For a biological imperative he found so shameful, for him this is probably the best sex he's ever had. Eventually his cock will retract its way back inside of its sheath, but unless McCoy moves him, Spock is just going to stay right here. If he's allowed, it's likely he'll even doze, face tucked into the crook of the older man's neck. ]