12. Chapter Twelve #3
He wouldn’t have said they were sparring until Viau responded.
“Maybe you would be a good healer. They’re ruthless at times too.
” But then Viau waved that away. “I didn’t only say yes so I could return to Trianon.
” He stressed the word while watching Rafi closely.
“I also agreed because… no one had ever asked me before.”
Rafi stared at him for several moments before finally blinking. “That’s nonsense.”
Viau waved that off too, but glanced away as he did. “No one has ever asked me to help them through aedis, until you.”
“But everyone must.” Rafi didn’t mean to argue and surprised himself with the force in his words. “I thought you were overwhelmed with such invitations and wouldn’t consider me.”
Viau shrugged. “Perhaps that is what everyone thinks.”
“So you said yes without having met me.” Rafi could hardly believe it. Viau had famous friends, presumably famous lovers. “But you’re so good at it.”
He winced the moment the words were out. But they brought Viau’s attention back to him, and his gaze was warm and pleased as he bowed his head.
“Bed-play, obviously, is not new to me. Maybe aedis or rut are a bit much to share with a friend—or maybe to share with a friend like me, and they assumed, as you did, that I would say no. But thank you. If I fail you in some way, please don’t be shy about telling me.”
Rafi scoffed through his sudden, wide smile. “I’ve never needed Cambray to give up the room for the night,” he said, in case Viau had somehow missed that Rafi had limited experience with bed-play. Had never had it in a bed, in fact, until Viau.
They were on a bed now.
Rafi allowed himself to be studied while he flushed and kept himself still.
“I was hoping you would try to take advantage,” he revealed quietly, relaxing when that made Viau brighten.
“To save me from having to ask if you’d like to…
” he hadn’t considered what phrase to use, direct or mannerly.
He chose mannerly, “…be together. Outside of aedis. Only tonight, if you like. Although….”
Viau raised both eyebrows high. “Although?”
“I suspect more will be required,” Rafi filled in, then wrinkled his nose because that wasn’t right.
The way Viau echoed him reaffirmed that. “‘Required?’”
Rafi steadied his voice. “Desired.”
“Ah.” Viau was oddly faint, but his smile, which had slipped, sparked to life again. “This is a Rafi seduction, all of it, from the peach, to this conversation, to where you currently sit.”
“The peach was an honest gift,” Rafi objected. It had been. He’d swear to it.
Viau believed him or didn’t. He crooked a finger. “Come here.”
Rafi shifted to get onto his knees and make his way to Viau still seated on the edge of the bed. When Rafi was within his reach, Viau slid a hand into his hair to cup the back of his head and draw him close. He glanced to Rafi’s mouth, then up to his eyes.
He did not move.
Ah. Rafi was to strike first.
From anyone else, Rafi might have been able to hide his nerves or how he could scarcely breathe as he closed the distance so that he was the one to bring their mouths together.
With Viau, he didn’t try. Viau had seen aroused flushes on his skin before and undoubtedly the shivers that carried through his spirit when they touched.
The moment Rafi’s lips parted, Viau snaked his other arm around Rafi to haul him closer and take his mouth as though the peach had not been enough to sate him.
Rafi was not in heat and therefore aware of the desperate, confused whines this drew from him and how he pawed Viau’s shoulders before finding his hair.
Viau’s hair slid through his fingers like silk ribbons and Viau didn’t stop his heady assault on Rafi’s mouth.
Rafi’s lungs burned without him pulling away.
Viau had faint scruff at his jaw, rough on Rafi’s palms. His skin was hot beneath his shirt, which Rafi did pause to claw at until Viau yanked the garment over his head in one impatient move.
Then Viau’s hands came to Rafi’s face, holding Rafi for more kisses while Rafi clung to him, restless at doing nothing even while he shuddered with relief at having the worry about what to do taken from him.
If he stayed like this, Viau would take charge of him again, and Rafi was throbbing and hard with need for it.
On the other hand, with his mind his own this time, he wished to know the feel of Viau as Viau knew the feel of him.
So he reached down to find and squeeze Viau’s cock through his trousers, then growled like a frustrated miné and tugged at Viau’s belt until it was loose and he could get his hands on what he wanted.
Viau’s mouth left his, although not so far that Rafi couldn’t lean in to insist the kisses resume.
This was permitted with a shocked exhale, although despite Viau’s interest, he didn’t help Rafi in his clumsy attempt to stroke him. He panted and watched. When Rafi stared, then glared, at him, Viau merely lifted an eyebrow.
Not a word or a sound and yet Rafi could hear the ‘storm cloud’ and feel the challenge.
Rafi tried another kiss. He didn’t think himself demanding or harsh until Viau hissed. Then he realized that was for Rafi’s grip on his cock—perhaps too tight—or, perhaps, when Rafi tried to do better, too loose, although Viau hitched his hips to tell him to try again.
Rafi did, tightening his hold first and exhaling shakily at the feel of it, the push and glide against his palm, the hot, heavy weight and the crush of Viau’s clothing that limited his motions.
He inched closer and looked up to ask for kiss this time, which Viau gave him, sweet and then mean, doling them out as if they were rewards.
But he was flushed and smiling, and his cock was in Rafi’s hand, so Rafi took each kiss and slowly grew damp between his thighs.
He made an embarrassingly petulant sound when Viau slid to his feet, but went quiet with equally embarrassing eagerness when Viau set about removing the rest of his clothes so that Rafi could now see and not just touch his naked body.
Rafi stared at first, the sight and now the feel making his blood pound, but raised his head when Viau swept his curls from his face, probably trying to help Rafi see better.
For all that he was breathing harder and red in a surprisingly splotchy way around his neck and shoulders, Viau smiled at Rafi as though they were in their courtyard, covered in grass stains and Rafi had done well.
Rafi licked his lips. “You don’t need to be gentle.” Despite everything, he heard himself and worried he’d been rude. “Unless you want to,” he added foolishly. “I mean to say I remember what we did and how I liked it.”
Viau lightly held Rafi by the jaw and swept his thumb over Rafi’s cheek.
“I know that you liked it,” he informed Rafi in a tone that put a deep, low shiver all through him, perhaps even through his aer, because Viau’s smile sharpened, more than pleased, more than smug.
He continued to pet Rafi, as he seemed fond of doing.
“Do you want that again? All of it? All of me?” Rafi was too heated to dissect that somewhat too mannerly language and stared blankly at Viau until Viau crooned something soft at him and nodded.
“Who am I talking to?” he asked, apparently of himself.
“You want it all. Everything. So greedy and so strong.”
Rafi shook himself from some of his lustful daze. “Greedy?”
Viau took the worry from him, pressing their foreheads together to whisper, “Greedy, the pair of us,” before issuing another politely firm order. “Lie down and I will give you what you want.”
Rafi’s shirt caught beneath him as he obeyed, riding up above his thighs once he was on his back—a problem Rafi abandoned when Viau settled on top of him. The light had faded. The candlelight was behind Viau. His face was shadowed as he leaned over Rafi, but his words nearly sparkled.
“Imagine, please: you have chased Cambray out of your room because you’ve brought someone back with you.”
Playing. It took Rafi too long to understand, but when he did, he reached up and Viau came down to him to be kissed. For the first moments, it still seemed playing.
That did not last long.
Kissing alone could get Rafi heated, it seemed. It never had before. Not like this, and he didn’t think the difference was the bed, although he liked that softness beneath him with Viau atop him, as if Rafi could not get away but also would never want to.
He was too hot in his shirt, which twisted more and more tightly around him. He growled for that but didn’t slow his wandering hands, enjoying the prickle of hair and the flex of muscle under his fingers when he grabbed and squeezed to hold Viau to him.
Perhaps too tight, Rafi thought, but didn’t slow or even try to gentle.
Viau could wear his bruises, and if he wanted Rafi to stop, he would say so.
Instead, he leaned down over Rafi to take charge of their kisses while Rafi groped his backside and the taut heat of his thighs, and when Rafi again found Viau’s cock, Viau bit Rafi’s lower lip and purred with all of miné’s pleasure.
There was no catching of breath. The bite hurt.
Rafi didn’t care about either of those things.
Viau shifted between his legs and not even the small trickle of wet that created could slow Rafi now.
Viau’s stubble rubbed along his jaw, rough as a cat’s tongue.
He parted Rafi’s thighs with deliberate slowness and then did nothing more than continue to grind down.
Rafi tangled Viau’s curls, gripped his shoulders, then bruised the skin over his ribs to encourage harder presses. Viau’s cock slid against his, then was gone. Deliberate as well; Viau kissed him through his growls and shivered when Rafi’s hold must have hurt but did not stop his teasing.
“I’m no storm cloud now,” Rafi finally told him, panting, arching from the bed and scowling when his own shirt wouldn’t let him. “There is nothing to wait for.”