Chapter Six #5
The table was the perfect height for bending over it.
And bend he did, resting his torso on the tabletop, his milky-white skin in stark contrast to the black wood.
Iver rested his chin on his crossed arms, his spine deliciously arched.
William couldn’t help following that gorgeous curve to his ass, and damn, those smooth, round globes looked irresistible. Like an offering.
William stepped up to him, snow crunching under his feet. There was no hint of apprehension in the relaxed lines of Iver’s body. William placed a hand on Iver’s cheek and squeezed the firm muscle. To part those buttocks and sink between them… William thickened between his legs.
“When you’re done fondling me,” Iver said, his words cutting the silence, “you can oil and prepare me. I don’t have to instruct you how to do that, do I?”
That sharp accent and the haughty lift of his chin said Iver wasn’t submitting for a second. He’d have his hole opened and slicked and be in charge the entire time.
Forcing his gaze away, William dribbled faerie oil onto his fingers. Iver could act unaffected; William was going to insert his digits, taking pleasure in stretching him like he’d done with a dozen nameless lovers. Iver had better not think he was special.
William pushed one cheek to the side, revealing a pale crease.
He had planned to do this on his feet, to have Iver bent over while he stood, but he wasn’t getting a good look.
His lips twisting, William sank to his knees behind Iver, coming eye level with that delicate, pink star.
Curious, he pulled Iver further apart, that little opening stretching to the side.
William ran a faerie oil?slick finger over it, satisfaction blooming when the oil’s warming property drew a low moan from Iver.
He repeated the motion, nudging and circling before slowly inserting his finger. Iver hissed, and William halted. This was a sound he wasn’t used to. He’d heard it but a few times, usually from lovers who’d never…
“Have you done this bef—”
“Do you honestly think I’m a two-hundred-year-old virgin?
” Iver ground out. William noted Iver didn’t outright deny it.
Such a fae answer. But then Iver added, “It’s been a long time.
” An unfamiliar vulnerability swung in his voice.
William considered. He hadn’t heard of Iver having a lover.
Not during William’s lifetime, and such rumors would’ve reached his court.
When Iver had relaxed enough for William to continue, he pushed deep, thrills running through him at the thought of being the first in a long time to touch Iver so intimately.
The faerie oil heated Iver’s insides, and a small jolt went through him, a telltale sign that those pleasurable tingling sensations had set in.
His insides squeezed William’s finger, cheeks flexing.
Iver was ready for more. Careful, so as not to hurt him, William slid in to the hilt and waited for Iver to adjust.
As he loosened, William added a second digit, but Iver was tight. The thought of entering that narrow, clenching space made him twitch between his legs. He couldn’t wait to make Iver his.
Iver’s hole constricted—if he clutched William’s cock like that, he’d make him come in a heartbeat. In slow, measured moves, William glided through him, stretching him as much as he dared.
“That’s enough,” Iver snapped.
“Are you sure—”
“Get the plug.”
All right, if Iver insisted. William wouldn’t have minded playing with him for a bit longer, seeing how he could spread and pleasure him.
He pulled out, his oil-slick fingers glistening in the muted light falling in through the lancet windows.
He retrieved one of the plugs from Iver’s leather satchel, studying it.
The wooden, cock-shaped item was sealed with oil wax and weighty though of average size.
Smaller than William. It ended in a flared base, which would prevent it from disappearing once inserted.
William poured a splash of faerie oil into the hollow of his hand and spread it over the plug. Iver glanced back, but returned to looking straight ahead when William sank between his legs. The plug’s bulbous head resembled a man’s glans, featuring a pronounced corona and slit. It looked obscene.
William gripped the base, which fit comfortably in his palm, and nudged the tip against Iver.
He bore down, and William fed him the head, drawing a restrained grunt from him.
It was reassuring that this didn’t leave Iver unaffected.
William didn’t know if he’d get the chance to push his cock into Iver, but he would enjoy slipping the plug into him.
Inch by inch, he slid it deeper, pausing when he met resistance, continuing when Iver loosened enough to take more.
Iver’s hole swallowed the plug, a mouth-watering sight that had William fully erect and feverishly jerking in the air, liquid beading at his slit.
With a satisfying squelching sound, the plug bottomed out, the flared base resting against Iver’s stretched rim.
William regarded his handiwork with pride. He’d made Iver take the whole thing. In the ring, he’d pull it out and replace it with his cock.
Pleased, he rose to his feet and stepped back.
Iver pushed off the table, his features contorting as he turned to face William.
The plug had to be moving inside him, its weight, combined with the tingling of the faerie oil, delivering a heady mixture of sensations.
Iver’s lids dropped, but he caught himself quickly.
“Come here and bend over,” Iver said, inclining his head toward the table.
William hesitated. While he’d lubed his cock plenty of times, nobody had ever applied faerie oil inside him. His gaze flicked from the table to Iver and back. Iver had gone through with it. This meant nothing, William told himself, although it was a lie. He’d never bent over for anyone.
But then he remembered how Iver had knelt for him in the church. Iver had had no qualms about it. He’d looked gorgeous for him, and William had yearned to reciprocate. Just because he bent over here didn’t mean Iver would subdue him in the ring.
He threw Iver one last, long look, then stepped to the table. His mouth dry, he lowered onto the tabletop. The wood was polished to a shine and smooth under his chest. He rested his cheek against the flat surface.
It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Breathing deeply, he picked up that scent of pine needles and snow. Iver…
Even in the silence of the hall, his footsteps were inaudible. William watched over his shoulder as Iver approached and took the faerie oil. The amber liquid poured over his long, pale fingers, and suddenly William couldn’t wait to have them inside him.
Iver did not sink to his knees behind him. He stood, his cock hard, in a position that suggested fucking. William swallowed.
Iver’s wet fingertip met his entrance. He wasn’t probing and pushing; he was simply there, touching William where no one had touched him before.
William closed his eyes as the faerie oil warmed his rim.
God, that felt nice. Iver’s fingertip and the warmth it radiated soothed and calmed him.
A rush of tingles burst along his entrance.
He realized too late that his body was opening up, and he sucked in air when Iver pushed in to the first knuckle.
“Fuck,” William gasped, his hole involuntarily squeezing Iver. “Be careful. I haven’t done this before.”
“Oh, so you’re the virgin?”
“I’m not a virgin.”
Iver probed his narrow channel. “You might as well be.”
His finger wasn’t big, but in the tight confines of William’s ass, it felt enormous. Iver stretched him, and when he slid deeper, he brought faerie oil with him. It ignited William’s hole. His insides went from warm to hot, and when the tingles came, a full-body shiver vibrated through him.
“And you’re responsive,” Iver said with delight. “If this is how you react to my finger, imagine what my cock will do.” Another, stronger wave of shudders rolled over William. “I can’t wait for you to lose it in front of my court.”
They would see the evidence of how Iver made him feel; they’d witness what Iver could force his body to do. Iver was right. If William trembled for this little intrusion, his reaction to getting impaled by Iver’s impressive cock would be spectacular.
Slowly, Iver inched inside. William’s cock leaked, and while he couldn’t see, he was sure he was drooling onto the floor.
The faerie oil ran deeper into him, bringing everything it touched to a blissful buzz.
Iver was inside him. It felt better than it had any right to.
Like he should’ve always filled that narrow space.
William tried to bite back a moan, but the depraved sound escaped him, echoing through the quiet hall.
Iver chuckled. “If that happens again, they’re going to think we’ve already started. We don’t want that, do we?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but clamped his free hand over William’s mouth, silencing him.
“Hmph!”
“That’s better.”
Iver pulled out only to come back with two fingertips. William, wide-eyed, panted through his nose. He wouldn’t be able to take two fingers. Let alone the plug. But he’d mounted enough men to know that pushing out eased penetration, and so he bore down.
Iver breached him, William’s pucker opening before clenching the invaders. Gripping the edges of the table, he grunted, his body taut like a bow.
“Relax,” Iver murmured. “You’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.”
He was going to hurt himself? Ha! Those bloody fae never accepted responsibility. If their actions resulted in anything bad—well, you never should’ve trusted them.