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When winter reached the manor it was a sight to behold. The snow fell thick and covered everything outside from cars and porches to forgotten garden furniture. The cold air felt sharp to breathe in and when you exhaled you could always watch the wind carry it away.
The house was prone to becoming cold as well, even with the doors and widows locked.
During those days you spent most of your time by the fireplace, stoking the flames when they burned low and settling in with a book and hot tea. The kitchen was just warm enough for you to cook, but you still ate by the fire.
Now, your plate is empty on the table and you’re focussed on the book in your hands when someone else walks in. Brahms walks with quiet steps and places his empty plate next to yours on the table before going to stand next to you.
“Was it good?” You asked, still looking at the pages in front of you. Brahms hummed an affirmative and slid his hand over your arm to wrap around your wrist.
When you looked up you made eye contact with him through the holes in his mask.
Some days he felt comfortable enough to forgo the covering, but whenever he did wear it you never questioned it. Usually, he’d spend those days holed up somewhere in the house, coming out for food and the occasional comforting embrace before vanishing again.
You cherished when he had a bad day and still chose to stay around you, like today.
“You want to sit together, Brahms?”
He nodded and held your eye as you stood, dropping the book next to the dirty plates. You made a mental note to not forget and wash them later as you grabbed a couple pillows from the armchair you had been lounging on, and the couch. They landed softly on the carpet in front of the fire and the throw blanket from the couch completed the ensemble.
Once you had gotten comfortable on the pillows and draped the blanket over your legs, you turned and gestured for Brahms to join you.
“C’mon, you gotta be cold even with that sweater on,” you smiled when he nearly threw himself onto the pillows next to you and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, his head landing on your chest.
With your legs tangled under the blanket you wrapped an arm over Brahms’ shoulder and pulled him closer for which he rewarded you with a soft, content sigh.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, looking out the window at the snow covered landscape and the fire crackling to warm you up.
At some point Brahms fell asleep, his breathing shallow and slow with his head still laying on your chest. When he started letting out soft grunts in his sleep you buried your fingers in his hair and stroked over his head, trying to comfort the man.
“Another nightmare, huh?” You mumbled to yourself and were debating whether or not to wake him up when you felt movement. Brahms was slowly starting to grind his hips into your thigh. You adjusted your position to put your leg completely between his and feel him better.
Brahms was now thrusting his hips properly against your thigh and you felt the hardness between his legs with every movement, his small sounds of pleasure becoming louder.
“Not a nightmare then,” you chuckled and kept stroking your fingers through his hair. After giving him a few more minutes to wake up by himself, which he didn’t do, you began slowly pulling on his hair with every stroke.
His grunts turned into small whines as he woke up and became aware of himself and you, and the position you were laying in.
“Have a good dream?” The smirk on your face was audible through your voice and Brahms whined again, louder this time as the movement of his hips became more desperate.
He nodded and buried his face further into your chest.
You knew how much Brahms loved your tits and how enthusiastically he gave them attention. Sometimes he finished just like this, grinding his weeping cock against your soft thigh as he pressed his mouth all over your chest, sucking on your nipples and leaving hickies all over your tits.
Part of you was tempted to let him do that again, but you could feel the excitement in you rise and a tingle between your thighs.
After a couple more minutes of letting Brahms grind against your thigh and bury his face in your chest, you pulled his head back by his hair and looked down at him. The moan that spilled from his lips was like music to your ears and you knew there were only more of those sinful sounds to come.
Brahms tried leaning back in but you held him firmly in place just above your chest. The resulting whine echoed through the room and you couldn’t hold back a smile as you held his eye and spoke, “Don’t you want to do more than grinding against me?”
Brahms’ eyes went wide as he nodded his head as best he could with you still holding him by his hair. Despite his obvious enthusiasm Brahms made no attempt to move, only speeding up the rhythm of his hips.
“You know that to do that you’re going to have to move, right?”
For a moment his hips still and you thought he had changed his mind, ready to let him peel away from you and take care of himself wherever and however he wanted without you. But after a few seconds Brahms sprang into action.
He jolted up like he had touched a live wire and grabbed your legs, making quick work to spread them and kneel in between. With shaking hands he slipped his fingers under the top of your sweatpants and underwear, and began pulling them both off of you.
You reminisced about how months ago you would have thought his shaking hands indicated that he wasn’t sure about this, but after getting to know him and his behavior you knew they were a result of him being too excited to get into your pants.
Sleeping with Brahms came with a lot of curiosities, mainly the mask and his at times quick changing whims, but through it all there was the consistent truth that Brahms was absolutely gone for you, and was always vibrating with unbridled enthusiasm to get his hands on you.
Once Brahms had pulled your pants off he threw them over his shoulder as if they had personally offended him for daring to be in his way and delaying feeling you for even a second. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, and spread your thighs apart wider so Brahms could properly get a look at you.
He had always loved getting to just look at you. When you’re naked before him, half dressed in the morning, getting out of the shower in just a towel, drowning in an oversized hoodie or shirt – He never passed up the opportunity to stare at you.
Brahms’ hand reverently touched your thighs and slid smoothly over your soft skin. He couldn’t believe the honor to be where he was, touching you so intimately and seeing you like this, laying under him unafraid with your legs spread to show off your wet cunt and your enthusiasm to have him.
If his face was bare you would have seen the glowing pink on his cheeks that seemed to always be there when he was between your thighs.
After Brahms ran his fingers up and down your inner thighs a couple times he went higher and slowly rubbed his thumbs along your folds. You sighed softly and watched as his eyes stayed glued to your cunt. He spread you apart and let out a soft groan before sliding over your throbbing clit with a thumb.
The blanket had shifted when Brahms took up his position between your thighs and was now resting behind the kneeling man, barely covering your feet anymore.
At first you felt a small chill from the air but then were quickly warmed by the fire crackling beside you.
Slowly, Brahms drew circles over your clit and watched as your pussy became wetter with need. When he deemed you wet enough he shifted and slipped a finger inside you. His eyes stayed glued to your center even when you let out a moan sweet enough to make his cock throb in his pants.
He started a slow rhythm of thrusting his fingers into you as he abandoned your clit momentarily to pull on the waistband of his own pants. Brahms was impatient to get them off and sink himself into your cunt, remembering how it felt to have you clench around him which wasn’t helping his coordination.
You smiled and reached down to help him get his pants low enough to free his cock, planning to help him get them off all the way but Brahms stopped you. He took your hand and put it back to rest next to your head.
There were only a couple seconds for you to brace yourself between Brahms slipping his fingers out of you and pushing his cock in.
He rumbled a groan that mirrored your whine as his hips met yours and you were filled with him completely.
The warmth of the fire was making you feel even more relaxed, warming you up and making you realize how much you needed the man currently inside of you to move and make you melt completely, arching your back slightly as Brahms didn’t. He was busy looking down at you in awe.
The fire illuminated the side of your face and body with orange light, seemingly shimmering, highlighting the curves and dips on your skin like you were made of marble. But when he wrapped his hands around your hips and squeezed, there was give.
Brahms watched as the light spilled over the new small valleys in your skin, casting a shadow at his fingertips. If you had told him that this glow was simply a quality of you, a magic you possessed and never mentioned to him, he would have believed you in a second. To him, nothing was more divine than this, than you, and he would do anything in his power to show you what he sees when he looks at you.
Unaware of the revelations Brahms was currently going through, you were squirming below him, tilting your hips as best you could against him to entice him to move.
“Brahms,” you said, voice dripping with need so thick it snapped him out of the trance he had been stuck in, “I need you to move.”
You whined with the last word and wrapped your legs around his waist.
Finally, Brahms pulled his hips back and slowly pushed forward again, your head falling into the pillows as you sighed in satisfaction.
The torturously slow rhythm Brahms started out with thankfully didn’t last very long as he also started feeling an insatiable need within.
His fingers dug deeper into the skin on your hips as he sped up, grunting with every particularly deep thrust. When you slipped a hand down your body to find your clit he interrupted and pushed your hand back up out of the way.
Brahms sat back onto his feet and pulled you along with him so that your ass was resting on his thighs. Impressively, he didn’t lose his rhythm once and kept driving his throbbing cock into you. Then you heard it.
“P— please… please.”
His voice was quiet and breathy as he said it, but Brahms was repeating the word over and over again. You could see his eyes behind the mask clenched closed while he continued pounding inside you, lost in how warm your cunt felt around him.
“You want me to come like this?”
Brahms nodded furiously and sped up the snap of hips into yours, moving you into the perfect position with his hands still clinging to your hips like a lifeline.
“You know you have to— fuck,” you cut yourself off with a moan as pleasure shot through you with every of Brahms’ thrusts, making it hard to speak.
“I know, I know, promise,” he whined out, “Just please, please.”
Brahms went back to begging over and over again while angling his hips back slightly when finally – There it was.
You had explained to Brahms a while ago that while he loved to make you come with just his dick, it was harder. He would have to hold his own orgasm back and make sure he fucks you just right to bring you over the edge, and it would always take you a little longer.
Thankfully, Brahms was nothing if not on board and insanely enthusiastic even when he was holding his own orgasm back so long it made him incoherent.
Once he found the perfect angle though, he knew. Because it always makes your cunt tighten around him, and you let out the most beautiful crying moan, like now.
Your back was arched and your thighs were desperately trying to close around Brahms as he pulled your hips in to meet his with every thrust, fucking the tip of his cock right into that spot inside you.
He continued begging and pleading with you, tears welling up in his eyes whenever your pussy clenched around him and he couldn’t let go yet. You tried reassuring him that it wouldn’t be long now but you were drowning in your own pleasure, eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open to sob out your satisfaction.
“Doing so—,” a moan, “so good for me, Brahms.”
He whined loudly and his movements became meaner, harder. His fingers were sure to leave deep blue bruises behind on your hips and you already couldn’t wait to admire them in the mirror afterwards.
“Such a good boy, Brahms.”
Above you, the tears finally fell. You could feel the drops hitting your thighs as Brahms bent forward slightly and sobbed through his need, his desperation.
You don’t know if it was the clear display of emotion, determination and arousal or if it was the way Brahms’ cock was bullying into that spot inside you, but you felt your orgasm rise quickly and suddenly before almost immediately crashing over you.
A loud moan echoed through the room as you came, mixing seamlessly with the sobbing whine from Brahms as your cunt rhythmically clenched and tightened around him, making him fight to keep up his tempo and force to work you through your orgasm properly.
Your thighs shook and tensed around his hips as you kept being hit with more and more waves of pleasure tingling through your body down to your bones.
Part of you felt bad Brahms was still holding back, but that part quickly shut up when another orgasm tightened in your stomach and exploded, making you nearly jump away from Brahms with its intensity if it hadn’t been for his hands on your hips to keep you pulled into him.
Through your moans you barely managed to tell Brahms it was okay, that he could let go.
He immediately did and bowed further above you, his forehead almost resting against your chest as he thrust his hips into you in a broken rhythm, hard and desperate.
Then he delivered his last deep strokes before groaning and spilling his come as deep inside you as he could.
Brahms was moaning and sobbing through his orgasm, pulling your hips against his so close you could feel his cock in your throat. When you started reaching the end of your second climax you could still feel Brahms shooting ropes of come inside you, grinding his hips against you for the last bit of bearable friction.
You reached down and stroked your fingers over Brahms’ wrist, “So good, baby. You did so well.”
Brahms whined and finally stopped shaking. He stayed like that for another minute which you were thankful for. When he shifted his hips slightly you purposely clenched your cunt around him and grinned at the pathetic whimper that spilled from his lips.
As Brahms pulled out you shivered at the loss of him filling you, and then at the feeling of his warm come following him to leak out of you. The man between your legs gently settled you back on the floor and slid his finger up through the mess spilling out of your cunt, lifting his hand to your mouth and letting you taste your mixed pleasure with heated eyes.
Once you licked his fingers clean you sat up enough to grab Brahms’ shirt and the blanket still laying over his calves, leaned back and pulled both with you.
Brahms was now laying in between your spread legs with his head on your chest again, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and the blanket thrown over you both.
You relished in the warmth, in the remaining pleasure as you laid there wrapped up in each other until it was time to get up and draw a bath. When you get up you’d also have to stoke the fire again, get the hot flames to warm you during a nap on the floor with Brahms wrapped around you on a pile of pillows and orange light dancing over the walls.