“You’re a fucking tease, that’s what you are.”
He was still laughing as he climbed into my lap and straddled me, knees on either side of my hips, his face level with mine, his hands on my shoulders. We were eye to eye and the closeness of him made every detail unavoidable; the faint freckles across his nose that would have been useful to know when describing him to a stranger, the swollen softness of his lower lip that I had put there. He reached between us, wrapped his fingers around my shaft, making sure it was slick before he dragged my cock against his well-oiled hole.
My hands fell on his hips, fingers tensing against the firm flesh there as I resisted the urge to push him down, to impale him on me.
“Slow,” he said. “You’re big for me. Just—let me.” He breathed out, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes rolled back.
I slid a hand up his back, wrapping it around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Thrusting my tongue into his mouth didn’t offer the relief I sought, but it helped me fight the other urge I was feeling, one so intense that it was a battle to stay still. He moaned against my mouth and pressed down onto me, and the moment the head of my cock breached him, a full-body shudder shook him.
“Fuck, you’re so big.” He dropped his head to my shoulder as he took me into his body a little more. “Oh. Oh, fuck, that’s—”
“I do not wish to hurt you, but…”
“You won’t,” he breathed. “You wouldn’t.”
He was right, of course.
He lowered himself more. The tightness of his inner channel was extraordinary. Heat and a deliciously slick pressure surrounded my cock. I flexed my fingers on his hips, forcing myself to hold still and let him set the pace while my magic surged through every piece of iron in the room.
The door hinges sang. The fire grate hummed a low, continuous note. None of it mattered because Pip was holding eye contact, sinking down onto me inch by inch and his face was a map of everything he was feeling.
“I have excellent self-control. I’m known for it, even.” I might have been trying to convince myself.
His laugh was broken this time. “Struggling with that right now, are you?”
“Of course not.” That was a lie. Pip brought a whole new meaning to the words losing control.
Soon, he was seated fully in my lap, his thighs trembling, his breath shallow, his forehead pressed against mine. Neither of us moved.
“Oh,” he whispered. “Oh, I feel so… fuck, so full. You’re touching me everywhere.”
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.
