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“No, let me finish. It is not a bad thing to doubt. Striving to do better, to grow and be worthy of all those who depend on me, to be worthy ofyoumost of all—it drives me in the best possible ways. There is always a fire inside of me. You make it hotter and brighter. You make me burn.”
He laid his forehead against Lancelot’s, holding him with a hand at his nape.
“You are the heart of me.”
“And you taught me to feel,” Lancelot returned.
“You are my soul. The source of every emotion I have ever possessed. I did not know the difference between merely existing and truly living until you. You are the sun that warms me.”
Arthur let out a huff of breath.
“The men would laugh to hear us natter on. I have never been known for poetry.”
“You are poetry in motion, my king,” Lancelot said. “Even when there were no words, even when I didn’t fully understandwhat was between us, you conveyed yourself eloquently with your actions. With your body.”
“Mmm,” Arthur hummed in a low purr, “what am I conveying now?”
He took Lancelot’s mouth in a slow, languorous kiss, licking into him in a sensual glide, indulgently sucking on his tongue.
That you are in an amorous mood, the knight remarked through their mind link.
I am always in an amorous mood, Arthur pointed out, pushing Lancelot onto his back and bracing over him on his arms.
He ground their hips together, and their already naked bodies hardened with readiness to take and be taken.
Lancelot reached around his buttocks to finger his entrance, dipping just the tip of one finger inside.
Arthur hissed at the slight burn, a tantalizing prelude to the buffet to come.
Aye, Lancelot agreed.
But sometimes, you are in the mood to fuck.
Hard and rough.
Sometimes, you just want to fight and win.
But I always win in hand-to-hand, so I can hold you down and fuck you until you can’t walk for hours. And then we both win.
A deep, vibrating laugh rumbled through Arthur’s chest.
He lifted his mouth away for a deep inhale, and to say fondly:
“You cocky little shit.”
In a move so fast, Lancelot flipped him on his stomach and knocked the breath out of him before he knew what happened. He could only emit a surprised grunt as his Mate spread his thighs open with unyielding hands and prodded his still tightly shut hole with the head of his steely erection.
“I am indeed all cock,” Lancelot rasped, punching his hips suddenly and forcing his meaty cockhead inside of Arthur, making him groan at the exquisite pain and incredible pressure.
“But there is nothing little about me.”
As if to ram home his point, Lancelot punched his hips again and seated himself fully to the hilt within the tight clutch of Arthur’s body.
There, he stilled. He leaned over until his chest covered Arthur’s back, and his lips grazed the outer shell of Arthur’s ear.
“Shall I prove it?” he growled.
Arthur turned his face and let Lancelot see his goading smile.
