The Offering of Four #4
Mendas pulled his robe over his head and dropped it on the floor.
Amenzu stared at his lithe, nude body, his cock half hard again.
His scent coated Amenzu’s mouth and stirred an unfamiliar hunger.
Amenzu had desires, but he had learned to acknowledge them and set them aside, and they didn’t trouble him much on a day-to-day basis. But he was sorely troubled now.
“Well, come on, then,” Mendas said, reclining on the bed and propping himself up on his elbows. He lifted his chin. “You’ve never knotted, I assume.”
“I’ve—no.” Amenzu’s ears rang. “I can’t say I have.”
“I’ve heard that the first knot can be a somewhat overwhelming experience. Let’s get that out of the way, shall we?” Mendas patted his thigh. “Come, in here.”
Amenzu’s face burned hot as he struggled out of his robe with far less grace than Mendas had managed. He knelt on the bed at Mendas’s side and laid a hesitant hand on Mendas’s knee. “Should I—”
“Here.” Mendas crossed his ankles and gestured at his thighs, pressed tight together. The position lifted his balls and cock and presented them to Amenzu like ripe apricots set out on a platter. “I’m wet enough that we won’t need any oil.”
“You want me to—your thighs? But I thought you would want—” Amenzu gestured vaguely. “You know. Inside.”
Mendas was watching him, his expression more somber than Amenzu thought was called for.
“There’s time for that,” he said gently.
“It’s still early in my heat. If you knot me now I’ll go insensible, and I’ll do more than enough mindless begging later.
And I think—well, I’ve never taken a knot, so better not to have two overwhelmed novices at one time. ”
Amenzu had never expected he would be so frankly discussing knots with the crown prince. “All right,” he said, voice faint.
He wasn’t sure how to get into position.
He straddled Mendas’s knees, then aimed his cock at the seam of Mendas’s thighs.
But he couldn’t see how it would go in; he had to lower himself down, but then his cock slipped off to the side instead of sliding between.
He carefully braced his weight on one hand to guide himself in, and then he had it and sank into the warm cleft.
Mendas’s thighs were as slick as he had promised, and tight and so soft.
Amenzu couldn’t hold back a groan as he rolled his hips in a first tentative thrust. He was hard enough to ache after feeling Mendas come apart around him, and now the warm pressure had him biting down on his own lip to take the edge off the spine-melting pleasure.
He had slid in right below Mendas’s balls, so that each glide out and push back in dragged against Mendas’s sac.
Mendas sighed and squirmed, then reached down to touch himself.
His cock was fat and full in his hand. Raised up on his arms as he was, Amenzu could see everything, every flicker of Mendas’s expression, the way his mouth dropped open to show the wet inside.
A warm pool of sensation filled Amenzu’s lower belly and spread outward from there. He wasn’t going to last, but he didn’t think Mendas expected him to. Still, he slowed the movements of his hips, driven by some vague notion that Mendas’s pleasure should come before his own.
Mendas was watching him, hand moving on himself with lazy strokes as he gazed upward at Amenzu’s face. “Are you trying to wait? I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I’m trying,” Amenzu said, “to,” and then couldn’t think of how to finish his sentence.
He rolled his hips again. His pulse throbbed in the base of his cock, steady beats in time with his heart.
He knew, in theory, what was going to happen, but theory wasn’t much use to him now, with Mendas beneath him and watching him not with mockery but with reverence.
He was at the precipice, and as Mendas tightened his thighs with a faint smile, Amenzu’s first knot began to bloom.
His arms buckled as he plunged headlong into ecstasy. He collapsed onto Mendas, his hips jolting in hard twitches, his knot trapped in the vise of Mendas’s thighs. He buried his face in Mendas’s neck, struggling to withstand the tremors rolling through his body.
“Ah, Amenzu,” Mendas said, his voice faint through the roaring in Amenzu’s ears.
Mendas’s hands stroked down Amenzu’s back, soothing him through the first shock, until Amenzu’s shaking eased into sweet pleasure as his knot throbbed.
Then Mendas pushed at his shoulders and rolled him over onto his back.
Amenzu sprawled in the sheets, thighs open and lax, knotted cock rigid against his abdomen as it spurted with every pulse.
He groaned, his hips twitching into open air, searching for the tight clutch of Mendas’s thighs.
He fumbled for his cock, needing something, shaky and bewildered and coated in truly startling quantities of his own spend.
“Let me,” Mendas said. He sat on Amenzu’s thighs and wrapped both hands around Amenzu’s knot, gripping hard, and Amenzu groaned again, this time in relief. That was perfect: exactly the pressure he needed. He flexed his hips into Mendas’s fists, emptying himself as his pleasure slowly unwound.
At last it ended. He lay blinking up at the ceiling, limp as if he had only recently recovered from a fever.
His knot felt tender and swollen in Mendas’s hands, and almost unbearably sensitive now.
Mendas relaxed his grip and stroked the knot with careful fingertips, and Amenzu hissed through his teeth, squirming both to get away and to get more.
“Impressive,” Mendas said.
Amenzu blinked at him. Mendas’s dry tone belied the dark urgency of his gaze and the way his breath came fast through his parted lips. Amenzu slid his hands up Mendas’s thighs toward his straining cock. “Should I—?”
“You’re already a mess, so we might as well,” Mendas said.
“Is that,” Amenzu began, but his voice came out as a harsh croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is that the only reason?”
Mendas took Amenzu’s hand and brought it to his cock. “The reason is I need you.”
Amenzu’s knot throbbed. Yes: Mendas needed him—him, specifically, and not any other alpha. He stroked Mendas’s lovely cock, flushed dark with arousal, and drew in the smell of him with deep breaths. Here was his omega, all spread out for him to enjoy.
“The next time I knot will be inside you,” Amenzu said, speaking the words as he realized, but Mendas moaned and thrust into his hand as though Amenzu had said it to arouse him. “Mendas—”
“Make me come,” Mendas ordered, and Amenzu knew what he was doing here well enough; Mendas’s cock wasn’t so different from his own. He used slow, tight strokes and brought Mendas over the edge, twisting above Amenzu and crying out with abandon as he added to the mess on Amenzu’s belly.
When he was finished, he lowered himself to lie on top of Amenzu and kissed him, slow and heated, their mouths moving together and their skin smeared with their combined spend.
The smell filled Amenzu’s nose until he forgot every other scent in the world.
This was the only one that mattered. Mendas was the only thing that mattered, warm and lithe in Amenzu’s arms, kissing him and kissing him, glorious and his.
“Amenzu,” Mendas whispered against his mouth, “Amenzu,” until Amenzu kissed him so deeply that he couldn’t speak.
Amenzu drifted into a golden haze like hot air shimmering above the surface of the scrublands in high summer.
He might have slept for a while. When he stirred again, the light in the room had changed, dimming and deepening with evening.
Mendas lay beside him, shifting restlessly in the sheets with one hand tucked between his legs.
As Amenzu watched blearily, he drew one knee toward his chest, and then Amenzu could see that he had his fingers buried inside himself, plunged to the knuckles in his wet hole.
Amenzu’s cock tingled at the base, where his knot had shrunk down again and left him tender. He turned onto his side and reached for Mendas, his hand sliding along Mendas’s thigh. “Do you need me?”
Mendas moaned, a soft noise that cut straight to Amenzu’s core.
He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. Amenzu moved his hand to Mendas’s hard cock and curled his fingers around it, lifting it from Mendas’s belly.
He could feel it straining against his palm.
Mendas thrust into Amenzu’s grip, once and again, his body one long taut line, and with a cry he spilled in Amenzu’s hand.
Amenzu’s breath came shallow in his lungs.
He pressed Mendas into the bed and kissed him, with Mendas still folded in half and his arm pinned between them.
Mendas returned his kiss with a hungry, open mouth and wriggled around so he could curl his arms around Amenzu’s neck.
His fingers smelled of his slick, so powerfully that Amenzu broke the kiss to turn his head and bring Mendas’s fingers to his mouth, sucking on them for the flavor that was just like his scent but stronger.
Mendas wriggled some more. His cock rubbed against Amenzu’s belly, still hard even after his orgasm.
He wrapped his legs around Amenzu’s waist and continued his squirming, urgent little thrusts of his cock that made Amenzu feel that his skin was peeling off his body in one continuous sheet.
This was the reason priests were sworn to celibacy.
One taste of Mendas and Amenzu had forgotten all his vows.
“I can feel you,” Mendas said, his voice husky. “Hard again—you won’t deny me—?”
Amenzu let Mendas’s wet fingers fall from his mouth. “I didn’t deny you last time! You said—”
Mendas was laughing, breathless, his hand on the back of Amenzu’s neck, sliding into his hair. “I know what I said. But I do need you now, my priest.”