8. Discoveries #2
Such a light touch, and yet it made him shudder.
Rerdas’s hands felt too good. He nearly crashed down onto the huntmaster’s chest and asked him to do more of that.
Except he absolutely wasn’t about to lie there and ask someone to fucking pet him.
He couldn’t believe he’d even considered it.
Too much blackberry wine. All he really wanted was his cock wedged in Rerdas’s throat.
But… he could explore a bit more before that.
He sat back on his haunches and ran his hands down Rerdas’s chest, marveling at the unmarked satin of his skin. He dragged his hands back up and felt the hard nub of Rerdas’s nipples stiffen beneath the heels of his palms.
Rerdas’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his cheeks stained, his lips slack and open.
He ran his hands down over Rerdas’s waist, then further down, trailing his fingertips along the insides of his thighs.
The leap of hard muscles, the texture of fine golden hair, the warmth and give of his supple skin—Impulsively, Imalroc bent to kiss his thigh.
And then again, and again, a line of ravenous kisses, sucking Rerdas’s skin enough to taste it and listening to the soft gasps it won him every time.
He rose, found that impossibly tempting freckle on the huntmaster’s neck, and felt the thrum of a pulse quickening beneath his lips.
He kissed his way down Rerdas’s chest, sometimes soft, sometimes fiendishly hard. Every whimper and wordless plea seemed to coil around his cock, spurring him on. He kissed the shallow rise and fall of Rerdas’s stomach.
If he went a little further, he’d have Rerdas’s cock in his mouth.
He stilled, tasted salt, heat rising from Rerdas’s skin and gliding into his throat. He swallowed around imagined weight. And jerked his head up sharply.
“I’m not sucking your cock,” he snapped.
Rerdas blinked heavily. “I…” He struggled up onto his elbows, some of the haze clearing from his expression. “That’s alright.”
Rerdas sat up further, and Imalroc almost pushed him back down so he could carry on as though nothing had happened. He shouldn’t have said anything. It had punctured the dream.
“I want to do what you like,” Rerdas said.
Imalroc eyed him in silence.
The huntmaster’s head tilted. “What do you like?”
He’d never spent time debating his preferred techniques for a mouth on his cock. He shrugged. “What you let me do last time.”
Rerdas smiled. “You don’t have to say it like I endured it. I enjoyed it. Fast and filthy.”
His stupid balls tightened with alarming intensity at that. “Right,” he managed.
“But,” Rerdas continued, scooting closer. “I… admit I’m curious.” He seemed to be waiting for Imalroc to say something else.
“About?” Imalroc asked warily.
“You could fuck me? If that’s something you’d like?”
Imalroc swallowed. He tried not to let himself imagine that, and he hadn’t expected Rerdas to offer it. “Is that… Do you like it?” he asked hoarsely. He skimmed the tense muscles of Rerdas’s stomach.
“With the right person.” He smiled again, and there was no fear or hesitation in it, only hope.
Imalroc kissed him because it was impossible not to.
When they broke apart, Rerdas murmured, “There’s oil in the pocket of my bedshirt.”
He was serious. He would let Imalroc have him, as if he knew Imalroc had dreamt of it, that he woke from those dreams sweating and guilty and leaking through his bedclothes and brought himself off so fast he couldn’t breathe.
Imalroc shifted to the edge of the bed to retrieve the oil, trying to keep from diving for it.
“I’ll get the light,” Rerdas said.
As if he could let the man plunge the room back into the masking darkness. Rerdas could have no way to hide from him. He trapped the huntmaster against the bed. “No.”
“You want—”
“I want to see you.” Imalroc slid his gaze down Rerdas’s body again. “You’re beautiful.”
Rerdas flushed.
“You must’ve heard that before,” Imalroc said. The huntmaster had to have seen the way people noticed him. Desired him.
“I… not from…” Rerdas trailed off, the color in his cheeks deepening.
A warm, thick pleasure slipped down through his chest. He tilted his head, pinning Rerdas with his gaze. “Does it matter particularly to you if it comes from me?”
“Yes,” Rerdas whispered.
His heart tripped. Fuck, he wanted to hear Rerdas say it again. If he hadn’t had years of practice controlling his features, he’d have the stupidest expression. He tightened his leash on himself.
Oil jar in one hand, Imalroc crawled back up the bed, beside Rerdas this time. He sifted through Rerdas’s hair, tipped the man’s face toward him and kissed him slowly, lingering.
Rerdas broke it eventually, and Imalroc had to stop himself from chasing his mouth. “Have you done this before?” Rerdas asked, glancing at the oil jar.
“Yes. A few times.” He could count them on one hand. “I don’t like the first part much. The readying bit,” he admitted.
Rerdas readjusted on his pillow, studying his face. Being examined like that made Imalroc want to look away, but he refused to do anything so obviously anxious.
“That’s fair,” Rerdas said. “I can do that myself, if you like. Although… May I ask why you don’t…?”
He asked so delicately and formally that Imalroc’s mouth twitched into a smile before he could help it. “How dare you be so forward, sir.”
“I was trying to be accommodating!” Rerdas grinned at him. “And don’t think you can get out of answering now.”
Imalroc shrugged again. His smile faded. “I’m not squeamish about bodies, huntmaster, but I don’t… enjoy causing discomfort.” It had always been perfunctory, something to be moved through as quickly as possible.
“I see. I don’t find it uncomfortable. It can feel good if you’re patient.” Rerdas licked his lips nervously. “Could I… show you?”
His pulse hammered in his temples and something like dread tiptoed through him. If he allowed Rerdas to put him on his knees, to fuck him, breach him—his cock throbbed against his hip. But it felt like there was a vise around his chest, fighting him for air.
The huntmaster must have read it in his expression, because he said hastily, “I didn’t mean on you. I meant, would you try it on me?”
He exhaled. “If that’s what you want.” It took him a beat to remember he wasn’t supposed to care. But he didn’t take back the offer.
Rerdas pulled one pillow from a corner and shoved it beneath him, propping his hips up. He looked like a debauched offering, even more so when he slid his legs open to let Imalroc between them.
Imalroc stroked a single, oiled finger over the place he wanted quite badly to sink into.
He let the oil warm against Rerdas’s body, and gently teased the ring of muscle open.
He could feel Rerdas relax, and that was more satisfying than he’d expected.
Especially watching the huntmaster’s face while he stroked and pressed, as gently as he could, adding more and more oil.
“If you curl your fingers in, and hunt a bit, there’s a spot that—” Rerdas gasped. “Yes. That.”
Imalroc rubbed over it again, and to his delight, Rerdas’s eyes closed. “Yes,” the huntmaster breathed. “That’s good.”
It was good. Imalroc worked another finger in, circling and stroking, and Rerdas’s legs spread wider for him, his hips twitching with the motion of Imalroc’s hand.
He was stupidly gorgeous like this. Sweat-gilded and scarlet.
After a while of hazy exploration, Rerdas tipped blindly toward him and pressed a clumsy kiss to his neck. “You can do as you please now,” he mumbled. “I’m ready.”
Imalroc watched his own fingers disappear into tight, cajoling heat. “You really do like this,” he said wonderingly.
“Yes,” Rerdas breathed. “But if you want—” His chest hitched hard, and he seemed to lose the rest of what he’d meant to say. He lay with his legs open, his eyes fluttering shut, head easing back, and kiss-swollen mouth falling open around another gasp.
Imalroc drank in the sight. He leaned down to Rerdas’s ear. “That good? Or are you just playing at it for me, huntmaster?”
Rerdas squirmed on his fingers. “No, it’s good, it’s incredible, but I thought you—oh, fuck, that feels—” He moaned.
“Tell me,” Imalroc pressed, emphasizing it with his fingers.
Rerdas turned his face sharply into Imalroc’s shoulder, his lashes trembling over his cheeks. “Gods,” he whispered. “That’s exactly… the right…”
The huntmaster moved against the churning rhythm of Imalroc’s hand, a whine building in his throat.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Imalroc murmured, only half-aware it was out loud.
“So good and hungry and beautiful. I want you all night like this, Rerdas.” He glanced down and swore at the sight.
Rerdas was leaking all over his stomach.
His own cock jumped in response, and he thrust his hand harder, looking for the angle that would make Rerdas scream.
“Could you come just from this, huntmaster? Should we find out?”
Rerdas’s response was incoherent. Imalroc kissed him, licked into his mouth, and pulled back to watch the desperate rocking of his hips.
He rose so he could get his other hand on Rerdas’s cock.
The huntmaster let out a frantic sound. “Oh gods, don’t, I won’t last if you do that. Too close.”
“I want you to come,” Imalroc said. His voice was ragged. “I want to see it.”
“Please, please, fuck me,” Rerdas moaned. “Please. I don’t want it without you.”
Imalroc groaned. He was never going to forget the sound of Rerdas pleading to have more of him.
He didn’t want it to end. And he didn’t want to slow down just so he could get his cock inside, not when Rerdas was arching up off the bed, driving his heels into the bedding to ride the sensation that was unraveling him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Rerdas chanted, “don’t—Imalroc—”
He felt the huntmaster’s body clench on his fingers, saw his hips stutter, his thighs trembling. Rerdas gasped, his head thrown back so far Imalroc could only see the straining, gleaming line of his neck.