Chapter 53 Lex
Chapter Fifty-Three
Lex
The d’Aelius heir’s grey eyes widened fractionally, his movements stalling with my admission.
As much as I wanted to bask in the afterglow of finally—finally—fucking Peytor, there was still more to be done.
He might have made me his, but if he was going to join our Bonded group, he needed to understand that his body belonged to me as well.
I pushed off the mattress until my chest grazed his.
Hands on my hips, I straightened to my full height and let my gaze wander lasciviously over his body.
His breaths were choppy, and sweat coated every inch of his pale skin, making the lines of his abdomen that much more prominent.
With one hand, he pushed back his hair that was stuck to his forehead.
“What?” he panted. “What’s that look for? Didn’t I fuck you good enough?”
Brat.
A slow grin spread across my face as I took a menacing step toward Peytor.
“You did.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Flip over, Peytor,” I commanded, my tone even but not unkind.
Peytor scoffed at me with a roll of his eyes. I simply raised my eyebrow in response.
“You’re—you’re serious? You think I’m going to bend over and . . . take it?”
“I think you want me to do just that, Peytor. More than that, I think you need me to.” Peytor started to interrupt me, but I held up a hand to stall his protests.
“You come in here asking to join the Bonded group, claiming to understand what it means for you to join us. But I don’t think you truly know what it will entail.
We share, Peytor. All of us. Equally. No one is above another when it comes to True Bonds and love with multiple people.
In coming in here and demanding to be part of the Bonded group, you are not just offering your soul to us, you’re offering your body.
As the Mage, I am the center of the group.
You claimed me. Now, it’s my turn to claim you. ”
Peytor stilled for a moment, a muscle bouncing in his jaw.
I took another slow step forward until I was within arm’s reach. Slowly, I extended one of my hands and lightly caressed the stubble on his jaw, much too pleased at the tick of his pulse. I brushed my thumb across his tightly pressed lips before gently pressing my mouth to his.
“Let me show you what it means to be part of this group. What it means to be wanted, what it means to be chosen, what it means to be loved,” I whispered against his lips.
“I’ve . . . I’ve never—” he trailed off, tearing his chin from my grasp as his face turned three shades of red in embarrassment.
I cocked my head at him.
“You’ve never . . . what?” I goaded, willing him to engage.
Peytor shook his head, his sweaty hair flopping around his ears. Still, he avoided eye contact and refused to answer my question.
Faster than a snake, I reached out and seized his jaw once more, forcibly turning his face to meet mine.
Fire flashed in his steel eyes, and I grinned manically in response.
Peytor wasn’t like Ilyas, nor was he like Folami.
Ilyas needed a soft hand, a pliable partner; Folami needed to be given complete control.
Peytor, though, demanded hardness and fire.
How perfect each of them is for me, for us.
“When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me,” I said lowly, moving my other hand to gently stroke his quickly hardening cock.
Peytor grunted against my hold, which only forced me to tighten my fingers around his jaw and erection. He hissed at the bite of pain.
I tsked at his reaction. “I can be gentle, or I can be rough. Which will it be, Peytor? Do you want it like this?” I fondled his cock with the lightest of touches.
“Or should I show you how much I own you?” My soft touches turned into a tight hold that had Peytor bucking against my hand with a low grunt.
A smile spread across my face again.
“I see. Now, tell me again. You’ve never done what?” I pulled hard on his cock, eliciting a whimper as Peytor’s eyes fluttered shut.
“I’ve never been fucked before,” he whispered, a faint blush coating his cheeks.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I asked.
He grumbled something again, and I stilled my hand completely. His hips chased forward, but I pulled back enough that he couldn’t fuck into my fist.
“Words, Peytor.”
“No, it wasn’t that hard,” he admitted quietly. Peytor’s eyes found mine, something tentative and vulnerable leaking into his gaze.
“I promise to make it good,” I said.
Peytor nodded rigidly, his whole body vibrating with tension.
I leaned closer, pulling him by the back of the head until our mouths met in the space between.
His lips were hard, unyielding, much like the rest of him, but they quickly grew pliant, opening for me when I demanded access to twirl my tongue with his.
I abandoned the hold on his cock, moving to cup his face with both hands as I slowly knelt on the ground.
Peytor followed, body relaxing with each swipe of my tongue until I had him lying on the floor.
The stones were cool against my fevered skin, and I broke our kiss long enough to ensure he was comfortable.
“Blanket?” I asked, thumbs stroking his cheeks. Peytor shook his head.
“Nervous?” I tried again.
Peytor’s lips twitched, but his response nearly had tears coursing down my cheeks. “With you? No.”
His trust meant more to me than words could ever say, and I thanked him for it as best I could with my mouth against his once again.
We kissed until Peytor’s cock was hard once more, and mine pulsed angrily against my leg, begging for relief.
“I’m going to fuck you like this,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s easier for your first time.”
Peytor said nothing, simply guided his legs up until he bared himself for me just as I had minutes before.
“Beautiful,” I whispered in awe as I stared at his very tight puckered hole. “I love that I get to take this first.”
I caressed the outside of his opening, reveling in his responsiveness, at the way his asshole clenched at my touch.
With deft movements, I coated my fingers and his hole with oil before gently pressing just my pinky inside.
Peytor gasped through gritted teeth, his muscles immediately tensing and seizing.
“Relax,” I commanded, pushing my finger past his tight ring of muscle. “Take a deep breath and relax.”
His breaths came in pants as I slowly fucked inside, gently adding a second and then third finger as I read his bodily cues. It took a half hour and nearly the whole bottle of lube, but I finally was able to get his muscles relaxed enough, his asshole open enough, to accommodate my length.
I poured the remaining oil on my cock and notched my head at his entrance.
We were both covered in sweat, Peytor’s face redder than a tomato, from the extensive foreplay.
But he was ready—more than ready to have me.
“Do it,” he said.
In a swift motion, I pushed through the initial resistance of his tight hole and seated myself in one long thrust.
We groaned together, my forehead falling forward against his.
“Oh, fuckkkkk,” he groaned, elongating the last word in a rushed exhale against my lips. “Oh, fuck, Lex. I’m going to come as soon as you move.”
“Do you want me to move?” I rasped through a smile. His forehead slid against mine as he eagerly nodded.
“Yes. It burns and stretches but oddly feels . . . good?”
I husked a laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips.
“Yes, it does,” I said with a small, experimental thrust.
Peytor groaned loudly, putting a wicked smile on my lips.
“But this feels better,” I whispered as I fucked Peytor fast and hard, my balls slapping against his oiled ass.
I bent his legs closer to his chest, angling his body upward so I could hit that spot deep inside that I knew would have him spilling in minutes.
Peytor mewled and whimpered, his blunt nails dragging against the skin on my back, undoubtedly leaving red marks I would wear with pride.
“Lex, Lex, Lex,” he whined.
“I know what you need, Peytor. Trust me to give you what you need.”
“I do, I do,” he chanted with each of my thrusts. His cock jostled between us, rubbing against my sweaty abdomen.
He was so tight, his muscles rippling around my length, that I was certain I’d blow before Peytor came a second time.
Just as I thought about urging his orgasm along with my hand, he came with a surprised shout, cum spurting from the swollen head of his cock to land in hot stripes against my abdomen and chest before smearing on his as I continued to thrust into his asshole.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered, eyes hazy from a second orgasm.
“My turn,” I rasped, pounding into him as I chased the feeling of fire as it rippled down my spine.
With a shout against Peytor’s shoulder, I stilled inside, emptying my balls completely into his tight hole.
We collapsed against the cold stone floor as one, the sweat on our naked bodies cooling quickly as our heaving breaths worked to calm our systems. I wasn’t sure how long we lay like that, letting the silence stretch between us, but without the discomfort of before.
I found solace in the staccato rhythm of Peytor’s breathing, of the thumping of his heart that seemed to reverberate in the space. I hoped mine did the same for him.
Tentatively, I reached out to grasp Peytor’s hand with my own. Warmth erupted in my chest, spreading through my torso and limbs as Peytor clutched mine in return, twining our fingers together.
I sighed, a contented, happy thing.
“Thank you,” he whispered so lowly I almost missed it.
“For what?” I asked, closing my eyes for a moment as I chased the lingering afterglow.
I wasn’t yet ready for it to fully dissipate, worried what would happen between us when we returned to reality.
Would this be the only time we came together like this?
Or would he heed my words and actually work to be a part of our quad?