Chapter 11
Alaric
“You gonna take me?” Magnus’s voice is rough in my ear, his hands dragging down my waist.
“Y-yes?” My voice cracks with nerves.
Magnus smiles. “Was that a question?”
I look at him, bewildered. This is different than the other times we fooled around. No big fight. No pressure forcing us together like magnets. Just us choosing to do this.
Magnus tilts his head. His sculpted abdomen flexes as he takes a deep breath and sits back on his heels. “Have you done this before, Prince?”
I feel a rush of heat coloring my cheeks and ears. “Of course I have!”
He laughs at my reaction. “Then why do you look like a scared virgin?”
“Because...” Do I admit that it’s been a while? Do I tell him I’m nervous that I won’t please him? Or worse, what if we have sex and it’s awful, and he decides to never see me again?
“Baby,” Magnus looks down at me, his fingers holding my chin. “I can see the gears turning in your head.” He kisses me. Once. Twice. “Relax. I’ll handle everything, okay?”
The nickname relaxes me into the bed. “Okay.”
He kisses me with such vigor I forget my name. He leans on his forearms, caging my head. One of his legs is between mine. The weight of him is all-consuming.
“Lift your head,” his voice commands me.
I lift up gently as he stuffs a pillow behind my head. His thick, muscled thighs are straddling my chest. His pants tented.
He pulls down the hem of his pants. “Open your mouth. Tap my thighs if it’s too much. Once we get going, you say stop, and we stop. Understand?”
I nod, my mouth already watering from the sight of him.
He groans as his hand passes over himself. “Verbal yes or no, baby.”
“Yes.” The word sounds too desperate coming out of my mouth, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Magnus pushes himself deep into my mouth, groaning like a starved man.
“Fuck.” His head lolls to the side for a moment before he begins fucking my mouth. “I missed you.”
His dick chokes me in the best way. My mouth stretching around him, careful to not get my teeth in the way.
“I didn’t want to leave after I met you in that hotel bathroom.” Magnus’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. “I wanted to make you feel good but you’re such a brat—” He shoves his shaft deeper making my eyes water. “I bet Kyle helped you out when you got back, huh?”
My heart jumps at being found out, my eyes locking onto his.
A wicked grin curves on his face. “I knew it. Kyle will do everything you tell him to. Not me, prince. I’ll ruin your body and keep using it until I’m done.”
I groan, my thighs pressing together to have some friction on my aching cock.
Magnus pulls out of my mouth suddenly, making me gasp for air. He flips me onto my stomach.
“Wait—” I croak.
“Tell me, were you thinking about me when you came with him?”
“I didn’t have sex with him,” I say into the pillows.
Magnus’s fingers tangle in my hair and yank my head back. “That’s not what I asked.”
I bite my lip, heat sweltering in my core. I arch my back to try and entice him instead of grilling me.
He slaps my ass with his free hand, making me yelp. “Answer me, Alaric.”
“Yes, I was thinking of you,” I say breathlessly.
Immediately, Magnus’s hands go soft. Releasing my hair, rubbing the stinging away from my ass. “Good boy.”
The bed shifts underneath me, and then I feel something slick trace up my entrance. “Magnus!”
But he just chuckles as he slips two fingers into me. “Behave.”
He must have seen my lube on my bedside table and grabbed it. God, what if he thinks I just jack off all the time? I mean, ever since I got those videos of him, I do. But he can’t know that!
“Stop thinking.” He adjusts me, moving me on my side so he can have better access to my dick.
And then I can’t think. It’s just the pressure in my ass and his slick warmth on my front.
“Magnus, Magnus. Fuck!” I’m writhing under his hands as he adds a third finger.
“Relax.” His voice is like silk coasting across my skin.
That’s the final straw. Sticky white shoots from me onto my black sheets. I’m moaning into the pillows like a man in pain.
I look up at him, his eyes are dark as he looks at me. “Again.”
“What?”
His dick is still hard and alert. His hand covered in cum. Magnus lies next to me and takes my flaccid dick and starts rubbing it against his hard one.
Jesus, I’m too sensitive for this.
“Ah, Mags, wait!” Is he using my cum as lube? Shit, I’m hard again.
His big hand holds both of us together as he pumps. “Mags, huh? Yeah, I like that. It’s cute.” His mouth closes over my mine, his tongue making me breathless.
I close my eyes, letting the sensations lead me over the edge.
“You gonna come for me?” Magnus bites my lip.
“Yes,”
He groans. “Say it again.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” My back arches as my cum streaks his chest.
I can hear my heart thundering in my ears. I feel dizzy.
He kisses my shoulder. “Get on your knees.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” I mumble.
The bed shifts again, and I’m pushed back onto my stomach. I don’t stop him. I’m too weak to care.
“No, I’m showing you who you belong to.” He grabs my ass, making me gasp.
I see him throw a condom wrapper on the floor before I feel him edging his cock against me.
“What do you say if it becomes too much?” His lips skate down my spine.
“Harder.”
The slap of my skin rings out in my bedroom. “Try again.”
I lift myself to my knees, pressing against him. “I say stop.”
Before I’ve even finished saying the p of the word, he shoves into me.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” I can feel Magnus shuddering against me.
“Mm, more.” I’m breathing hard now, my vision darkening on the sides.
“So demanding.” He sinks into me to the hilt, causing me to yell out.
His hand covers my mouth, pulling me against his chest. God, how big is his cock? I feel so full.
“Shh, I don’t want anyone coming up here thinking I’m murdering you.” His hips buck into me, making me brace myself against the headboard.
My hand starts pumping my penis, which is, of course, hard again.
He bites my shoulder hard. “I’m not gonna last, baby. You look too fucking good. You sound so good. Fuck, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.”
“I’m yours,” I groan.
And that’s what finally undoes the Flame. He bites me again to stifle the moan that rumbles out of him as his cock pulses inside me.
The pulsing feels so fucking good that I tip over the edge as well.
I collapse against the ruined sheets, Magnus’s 200-and-something-pound muscle barreling after me.
It’s quiet besides our heavy breathing and pounding hearts.
He rolls off of me, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Again.”
“No way!”
? ? ?
I pry my eyes open, feeling like I’ve just been run over by a truck. My room is dark, telling me it’s late morning. Magnus isn’t in the bed.
I look around, noticing his clothes are still strewn about my room. I pull on a pair of boxers and Magnus’s hoodie and step out into the living room
The condo smells like soap, old wine and… why can I hear Magnus swearing?
“Absolutely not,” Magnus is saying to something in the kitchen. “I pushed the button. You had one job.”
I round the corner and stop. He’s shirtless in low-hanging sweatpants and my robe thrown on open like a cape.
He’s facing the espresso machine with his hands on his hips, looking at it like it insulted his mother.
There’s a damp cowlick in his hair and a tiny smear of shaving cream on his jaw that he clearly missed.
The cup on the drip tray contains one perfect, disobedient centimeter of espresso and a whole spill across the counter.
I lean against the doorframe and watch. He does not notice me. He’s too busy reading something on his phone.
“So you’re telling me I have to grind the beans,” he says, picking up the grinder like it might explode, “and tamp them, and then lock this thing—yeah, like that, look at me being a surgeon—and then I press the button? Okay. Where do I sign up for your online course, Mr. Robot?”
“Tuition’s obscene,” I say, deadpan.
He yelps, spins. He tries to look offended and not busted at the same time; it’s adorable.
“You can’t sneak up on a man during delicate negotiations.”
“Were you threatening my espresso machine?”
“I was encouraging it through a growth opportunity.” He gestures. “It was a teachable moment.”
I take a peek around my kitchen. “There are coffee grounds in the sugar bowl.”
“Those are… garnish.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How are you feeling? Must be alright if you’re in here mocking me.”
I snort, walking past him to wipe the counter. “I’m good. Might need some pain meds but nothing crazy.”
He nods stepping closer. “You look unfair in the morning.”
“Disheveled?”
“Hot,” he corrects, grabbing the hem of the hoodie like he’s checking its authenticity. “Glowy. Saintly. I hate it.”
“You’re wearing my robe.”
He glances down at himself and shrugs without shame. “It was hanging there, all soft and smug. It leapt onto me. Besides,” His eyes travel down my chest. “That’s my hoodie.”
“Touche.”
“We’re in a fight,” he tells the espresso machine.
“Let me.” I take the portafilter gently from his hand. “Did you even read the manual?”
“Real men don’t read manuals.”
“Real men admit defeat to small appliances,” I say, loading the basket with fresh grounds.
He watches me tamp, eyes intent. “You make it look… weirdly attractive.”
“Ten thousand hours,” I say. “Spent perfecting my coffee swagger.”
“Tragic. Sexy.” His voice drops to something that could turn the lights down. “Alaric?”
I keep my eyes on the machine. “Mm?”
He kisses the back of my neck, his arms looping around my waist. “Hi.”
I fail to hide the smile. I lock the portafilter, purge, hit the button. “Hi.”
He’s warm, still a little damp from his shower. His presence loosens something I hadn’t noticed bracing. The machine hums obediently this time. Golden-brown espresso spills into the cup like a small miracle.
Magnus inhales. “Smells like a hug.”
“It’s just coffee.”
“Don’t ruin my poetry.” He kisses my neck again.