Chapter Fourteen #3
Nobody had ever fucked him like Iver did. No other lover had his endurance or skill. His mere touch had William going out of his mind with desire. William wasn’t going to stray, but he did enjoy the possessiveness.
Iver nailed him with unwavering precision, eliciting a cascade of wanton moans and shaky little sounds. Urgency mounted in William’s loins, his balls growing fuller, tighter, desperate to spill their load.
He was going to come so damn hard. The notion that Iver would have to hold back, denying himself while William got to unleash his seed, inexplicably excited him. Thump for thump, he climbed toward completion.
On the next strike, Iver pulled back further, then tunneled inside and plunged into William’s love knot.
William threw his head back. “Fuck!” His cock throbbed between his legs, on the verge of coming.
Iver ground into his pulsing, swollen gland. “Take your dick and aim, but don’t dare stroke yourself. I will make you come.” He softened the order with a slow, almost loving stroke across William’s prostate.
William’s eyes rolled back in his head. He shook from the effort of holding himself up as he wrapped his hand around his cock and trained his precum-dripping glans on the jar.
Iver’s thrusts eased up, which helped William’s aim, and rolled his hips in a controlled, powerful grind against William’s core.
The veins snaking up William’s shaft palpitated.
His hole constricted, drawing a strangled sound from Iver.
He drove his crown into William’s gland and went rigid, dropping restrained, huffing grunts as he fought not to come.
His wildly jerking cock thumped William’s prostate.
William keened, that slick glans smacking his pleasure center taking him to the edge.
He clamped down, his mouth forming a wide ‘O,’ and his insides dissolved in rampant contractions.
William came in an ecstatic eruption of debauchery.
He screamed as the cum shot out of him and hit the center of the shiny black container.
He clenched on Iver’s cock, and he’d been right, coming felt better with something big and hard crammed inside him.
Every contraction elicited depraved little noises from William.
He relished the resistance he got to compress around.
Behind him, Iver growled and panted like he was dying to follow William over the brink and explode into orgasm.
He didn’t, and he wouldn’t, and that made William come that much harder, savoring every glorious convulsion.
Spout for spout, he emptied into the jar, thick white cream collecting at its bottom.
When his orgasm slowed, Iver, determined to squeeze every drop from him, pressed into his prostate, and William squirted a last gush into the dish.
Trembling all over, he threatened to collapse.
Iver wrapped his arms around him and pulled him onto his knees.
His hard cock slipped from William’s hole as he held him to his chest. It was the sweetest embrace, Iver’s erect shaft pressing into his crease.
Sweat soaked William’s curls; it ran down his pecs and onto the plains of his stomach.
Iver kissed his cheek. “You did so well. That was a good amount of cum.” He licked across the shell of William’s ear, making him shiver.
“Your turn,” William said weakly. “I just need a minute.” His legs shook from the force of his orgasm.
Iver made an amused sound. “You’re not done coming. I meant it was a good amount of cum for your first orgasm. The jar isn’t even a quarter full.”
“I don’t have any more to give,” William said. “Even with the faerie oil, I can’t…”
Iver bit his earlobe. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you.”
A shiver went through William. A growing part of him longed to obey his husband and make him proud.
If Iver told him to come, he would. Before his marriage, William had been serviced by half a dozen concubines every day.
He’d been concerned that married life would leave him unsatisfied.
He needn’t have worried. Iver sated him in a way that not even an entire brothel of eager courtesans could.
“Can you stand?” Iver’s voice was velvet in his ear.
“I think so.”
Iver helped him off the divan and onto his feet. William, having underestimated his stamina and strength, was already recovering. Iver walked him over to the balustrade. They were several floors off the ground, but…
“Someone might see us,” William said as Iver led him to one of the broad pillars of the arches carrying the balcony’s roof.
“My high fae have already watched us fuck, and you don’t care if a servant sees us, do you? But how can I say ‘no’ to my husband?” Iver nuzzled his neck. The snowfall thickened, and a dense fog rolled in. “Better?”
“Yes. I’m grateful you—”
“Put your hands on the pillar.”
William did as he was told and held onto the delicately carved protrusions decorating the white marble. He turned his head toward the tower farther along the castle wall. The snow and fog obscured it. No one would see him and Iver on the balcony.
Iver slicked his fingers and cock with fresh faerie oil, and pressed first one, then two digits into him. The oil worked its magic, heat and tingles washing through his insides, and within moments, William was hard and ready for Iver. He pushed his ass out in invitation.
“So eager.” Iver lined up behind William.
He dragged his cockhead over William’s entrance, the faerie oil sending sparks through him. Then Iver pushed into William’s resistance, that little ring of muscle fighting him before yielding to its master.
A drawn-out moan poured from William’s lips as Iver sank into him. His nerve endings exploded in pleasure with every inch of thick, oil-slick cock that conquered him. When Iver hit his prostate, William saw stars. He cried out, gripping the marble carvings, knuckles turning white.
Another push, and Iver bottomed out, feral pleasure rampaging through William. His jaw hung slack while his hole uselessly tried to close, Iver’s rock-hard dick forcing him open.
Iver kept one hand on William’s hip and gripped his nape with the other, holding him in place. With Iver’s cock in his ass and his hands on him, William was under his control, a mere body to thrust into and fuck the cum out of.
Iver’s thumb stroked his hip bone. “You don’t know how gorgeous you are with my dick inside you.”
He pulsed against William’s inner walls, then withdrew only to rush back in, punching William’s defenseless gland. A shout of lust bolted out of William. Day after day they’d fucked, Iver wringing him dry, and here he was, trying to wrest another orgasm from him, another load of cum.
William’s insides pulsated in worship. He’d never had anyone else inside him, and nobody but Iver ever would be. His nipples were erect buds, his cock a dripping mess between his legs.
Iver set a blinding pace, mercilessly hammering William until he was seizing in ecstasy.
Iver didn’t stop. He drilled into him, relentlessly thumping that sensitive bundle of nerves.
William’s sack, once again full and ripe, hiked to his taint.
He was ready for another shuddering climax, ready to give himself over to Iver and deliver the seed he wanted.
“I’m close,” William warned.
“Hold back.” Iver’s grasp on his nape turned into a vice grip. “Make this load a big one, and I’ll stop tormenting your precious hole for today.”
As much as William loved Iver taking him, new strength or not, his body needed a break. The longer he hung on before he came, the bigger the load would be.
William gritted his teeth against his frenzied arousal and strained his inner muscles to contain the climax looming in his core.
Iver did not ease off. He pistoned into him, the smack of flesh against flesh ringing out on the balcony.
There was no way to silence that. Would the guards on the battlements down across the bailey hear the slapping sounds of their feverish lovemaking?
Lust coiled at the thought. It was possible that over the wind, nothing was audible.
But it was just as likely that every smack, every grunt and gasp rang out across the castle grounds.
The guards, fae and human alike, would know what their kings were up to.
Would they picture him writhing under Iver, balls full to bursting, cock twitching and drooling?
His insides narrowed, pressing Iver into the spot where he needed him the most. A choked groan burst from his lips, and he panted heavily. Iver ceaselessly beat his love spot, and William spat a curse. Urgency mounted, and with Iver knocking away at him, his release couldn’t be restrained.
“I c-cant’… can’t hold it any longer,” William cried.
“Don’t move,” Iver said with infuriating calmness.
Stretching, his cock withdrawing to the head, he picked up the jar.
He moved into position, William moaning when his glans hit his prostate.
Iver held the container under William’s cock.
A needy sound escaped William as Iver’s long fingers wrapped around his shaft, pointing his tip at the dish’s wide mouth.
“Now you can come.”
But Iver didn’t move! He didn’t thrust into William; he didn’t stroke his cock, simply held him.
William throbbed helplessly in Iver’s hand. “I can’t come like this!”
“I thought you couldn’t hold it any longer?” Iver’s tone was laced with humor.
“I need you to rub me, fuck me, anything. Please.”
Iver tilted his hips, pushing his crown into William’s pulsing prostate. “This will be enough.”
“But I—”
“Shh… Feel the pressure in your core. Feel my cockhead squishing into you. There’s need mounting, isn’t there? The need to come for me. You’re tightening.”
Iver was right. Something was growing inside him, a rising desire to spill his seed. The longer Iver stayed motionless, his mere presence applying pressure on William’s most sensitive place, the deeper it reached.