Chapter 10 #3
He rolled his hips. A small, experimental movement, and the sensation that shot through me dismantled seven and a half centuries of composure and control.
My hands tightened on his hips and my magic erupted through the iron, every metal object in the room resonating at once, and Pip gasped and rocked again and the sound he made was the match to mine.
I held on for approximately thirty more seconds.
It lasted for thirty seconds of him rolling his hips in my lap; thirty seconds of his breath against my face, his fingers digging into my shoulders, and the tight, slick heat of his body on my cock; thirty seconds of being a reasonable, measured man who let his partner set the pace.
Then I was done with patience.
I lifted him off me and flipped him onto his back.
My fingers dug into his thighs as I spread him wide, guiding my cock back into his heat, bearing him down onto the mattress on his back with calculated force, using every ounce of my control not to hurt him.
I was above him, driving back inside him, and his legs wrapped around my waist as if his body had been waiting for this.
“Yes,” he said. His eyes were blown wide and he arched to grant me deeper access, his fingers digging into the blankets. “Oh fuck yes, fuck me—”
I lifted his hips off the mattress, pulled back and drove into him, and his eyes rolled back.
I was addicted to the heat of him, the grip of his hole around me, and the dig of his heels into my back, pulling me deeper, demanding more.
“Harder,” he whined. “Fill me with that huge cock.”
I sealed my lips over his, to shut him up so I wouldn’t be tempted to let go of control completely, setting a deep, forceful rhythm that had him bracing his hands against the bedframe to stop his slide up the mattress.
His hips met mine with a ferocity that matched my own, rising to meet every thrust, his back arching into the most exquisite curve.
Every part of him was in motion, meeting me, matching me, bracing himself to better take the force of my thrusts.
When I lifted my head to check in with him, his breathless litany continued as if it had never stopped.
“Fuck—” His voice cracked. “Fuck, Aeldryc, right there, fuck me hard, don’t you dare stop—”
I didn’t stop. I could not have stopped if the palace had caught fire.
His tight, slick hole was pulling sounds out of me I did not recognize, and my magic was beyond my control now.
The iron bed frame was shaking, the hinges rattling, every metal object in the corridor outside likely humming in sympathetic resonance.
Any soldiers in this hallway were about to have a great many questions about what I was up to.
His eyes rolled back. “Oh fuck, this is… fuck.”
“Make yourself come,” I said. “I want to feel you come around me.”
He whimpered, his hand sliding between us, stroking his shaft in time with my thrusts, and the sight of his fist around his own cock, his stomach tensing, his mouth open and gasping, ignited something in the base of my spine that was building with the inevitability of a tide.
“I’m close,” he gasped. “I’m so close, I’m—”
I leaned down and kissed him, swallowing the sound he made as his body locked around me and his orgasm hit.
He spilled between us, hot and pulsing, cum spraying across my stomach, decorating me with the evidence of how thoroughly I’d pleased him.
The fluttering aftershocks of his orgasm made his inner walls clench around me, and it pulled me closer to the edge, too close to hold onto control for a moment longer.
I shoved him into the mattress. I pinned him, one hand bracing his hips right where I needed him, the other closing around his throat to hold him down as I drilled in deep. His soft whimpers ripped away my control as I chased my orgasm with wild intensity.
The distinction between his body and mine dissolved as the iron in the room hit a frequency my magic had never produced before: a sustained, harmonic tone that rang through the metal like a struck bell, resonating through my chest, my bones, and the very place where the magic lived.
And with a few more rough thrusts, I came, the harmonic tone spiking into a single pure note that rang through every bone in my body as I emptied deep inside him, the magic and the pleasure collapsing into one indistinguishable thing.
As the room went silent again and my magic stilled, I braced my hands on the mattress on either side of him, mindful of the difference in our sizes. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my back and holding me there with a strength that surprised me.
“Don’t move,” he gasped, his voice tight. “Stay. Stay inside me, please. Can’t be empty yet.”
So I stayed. His inner muscles fluttered around my cock.
I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, fast and slowing, and his fingers traced lazy shapes on my back.
His breathing was evening out in a way that I recognized from earlier—the slide toward sleep, the body deciding that wherever it was, it was safe enough to let go.
I leaned in and kissed him, and he smiled against my mouth, curling his legs back around me, burying his fingers in my hair.
It was a slow, languid kiss that I never wanted to end, so I indulged myself in him for as long as he let me.
He held me there for a long while, sucking on my tongue, nipping at my lips.
Eventually my cock softened and I slipped out and eased off of him.
He made a small sound of protest, but I pulled him against me, and he flopped across my chest with a happy sigh.
I wrapped a hand around his left ass cheek, gently gliding my thumb along the hole I’d occupied.
He reached back, gripped my hand, and pushed the thumb inside.
“Don’t like to be empty,” he mumbled, kissing my chest.
I shoved my thumb in deeper, happy to indulge him in the full feeling he craved.
After a moment, he lifted his head and looked down at my chest. “I came so hard I made a mess of you.”
“Mm.” I smeared his cum across my stomach, grinding it into my skin. It was a mark. Proof. I wouldn’t wash it off. I would wear the sticky evidence of his pleasure like a soldier wears his colors.
He groaned, eyes darkening as he watched his cum absorb into my skin. “I’ll send you to all your boring meetings with my cum on you.”
“Trying to mark me as yours already?”
He laughed, clearly avoiding the answer, as he glanced toward the door. “The whole wing heard that, didn’t they? The iron ringing.”
“I expect the whole palace heard your screams of pleasure, so maybe they didn’t notice my magic acting up.”
“Oh dear.” A pause. “Was that—was it okay? For you? The—all of it?”
The vulnerability in the question made my chest squeeze. This man, who moved through the world like a comet and had taken me into his body with a fierceness that had unmade me, was now asking in a small voice if it had been okay.
I pulled him tighter against me. My arm across his chest, my face in his hair, and I held him the way I had held nothing in seven and a half centuries, which was to say: as if he mattered.
“Okay?” I asked. “It was considerably more than okay. I do not have adequate vocabulary for how good it was. You have left me speechless.”
He laughed, quiet and warm, and pressed back against me. “That would be more impressive if you talked more.”
“Would you also qualify it as okay?”
“Oh no. It was amazing. Once you go Fae,” he said. His voice was fading, the words going soft at the edges. “You never go away?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Human joke. Doesn’t translate.”
His breathing evened out and deepened. The small twitches of consciousness gave way to the stillness of genuine sleep. He radiated warmth against me, his hand resting in mine as the fire burned low. I lay there in the dark, this impossible human curled into the shape of me.
I closed my eyes, and for once, I drifted to sleep.