Page 12 of Blessed


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“Mil.” The name and taste were on his tongue. Mattin was not weak, he washungry. “Arden.” He pushed back, gasping at the pressure from Arden’s fingers alone as they went still deeper, and then were slowly drawn out before Arden slid them back in. Mattin’s chest rumbled with another growl. He let it out, then pulled in a shaky breath.

“Sorry, Sass,” Mil said again, properly contrite as he took Mattin’s braid and wound it around his wrist and tightened his hold again the way Mattin had liked. Mil would hold Mattin in place now, as he should. He had his cock in his other hand and brought it to Mattin’s lips and groaned when Mattin surged forward to take as much as he could. He started to say several things, warnings perhaps, worries about the sounds of Mattin’s gagging, but he kept his hold on Mattin’s hair and let Mattin suck how he liked.

Mattin was vaguely aware of the mess he was making and that he was still burning. But it was a good mess, and having his mouth full soothed him as much as holding Mil’s bright, mesmerized gaze while he worked his tongue, and choked, and dribbled spit.

Mil brushed the corners of Mattin’s mouth when they grew too wet no matter how often Mattin swallowed. His hand shook, although Mattin didn’t know why, and he said things about Mattin’s red mouth that drew another long pull of need from deep within Mattin and made him briefly inch away to drop his head and moan. Then Mil took him by the hair and gently pulled him back to his cock and Mattin hummed his gratitude in between licks and swallows.

Arden kept one hand on Mattin’s back as if to settle Mattin, but then would not stop tormenting him.Steadying you, he said more than once,readying you for what you’ll take, but Mattin thought it was more that he enjoyed the sight of Mattin with his mouth full while Arden stuffed him with his fingers. Mattinwasready. He shook and shuddered, and growled around the head of Mil’s cock because he could not fit the rest in his mouth, and every time Mattin coughed and stuttered over taking a breath, Arden kissed his shoulder or the base of his spine and continued his readying.

Mattin was alight. He was raw inside without being used, on fire from the tastes he coaxed from Mil’s cock and the slide of Arden’s fingers. Mattin finally pulled away from the cock meant for his mouth and pushed back onto Arden’s hand with a rough snarl. “I’m sohot. You smell good and I’m wet. I’mmessy. I’m… I’m empty. I don’t like it.” His mind wasalmostclear. He held to his thoughts for another moment, worrying over something, perhaps that he had not said please, perhaps that Arden was right and he wasn’t ready for what he would take, but he wanted it. He wanted so much he was roasting with it, so he put his face to the furs and lifted his hips as high as they could go.

“That’s more than ready,” Mil said in a rasping, sticky sort of a voice, as if he had some of Mattin’s slick in his mouth. He dropped Mattin’s braid to pet the top of Mattin’s head and the back of his neck before he bent over Mattin to kiss his shoulder where Arden had, and then again to kiss Mattin lower, at the base of his spine.

Slick dripped from Mattin when Arden pulled his fingers out. Mattin sobbed for being even emptier than before, and they both kissed him again, mouths close to where they could be, their breath mingling over overheated, wet skin, which did nothing except make Mattin shiver.

Arden was careful, as though he hadn’t moved his hand and his damp fingers to Mattin’s thigh, then up to tease Mattin’s little cock. “Tell us what you want while you still can, dear heart.”

Mil slid his fingers into Mattin, bigger than Arden’s but welcomed just as readily. They were both on either side of him, nearly behind him, watching Mattin grow wetter, watching him take Mil’s fingers and then Arden’s again alongside Mil’s, Mil fucking in and out and Arden pressing in as if he knew exactly what Mattin wanted despite what he’d asked. He stroked Mattin’s cock slowly, and when Mattin began to shake, said, “Tell us,” as an order; a real one, no longer pretending to be polite.

Mattin did not hesitate, too hot to even know what a blush was. “Both—” a cry interrupted him, rising to the ceiling, carrying out into the sitting room and perhaps farther. Arden and Mil moved their fingers together, opening him up with wet sounds that left Mattin even hungrier. Needier. Emptier. “—Both of you.” He could not even writhe away from the pleasure because Mil held him in place. It would take Mil no effort to do so, even distracted and panting while he and Arden readied Mattin.

They knew what he wanted or they wanted it too. Mattin arched into the pressure, the lust-feverpullthat meant his body wanted mess and load upon load of seed and their beautiful cocks pounding into him. He could not bear having that. He couldn’t bear not having that. All the while, they did not let up, his Gifted, asking him what he wanted when they knew.

“Both of you.” Mattin put his face to the fur and left his lower body to their control. He felt so good, so hot and so empty but so good. They would give him what he needed. “Fuck me.”

He demanded it like the Blessed he was and cared only that they obeyed as they should.

Arden was next to him when Mattin opened his eyes, looking so wickedly handsome that Mattin stared at him for a long while before he even realized hewasstaring. With some confusion, Mattin considered the side of Arden’s face and then the fireplace in Mil and Arden’s sitting room, currently blazing with a toasty fire. Then he studied the table in front of him, laden with quite possibly every fruit the palace greenhouse had to offer as well as a pot of tea and platter full of sweet buns.

There was a cup of tea before him. Mattin had the vague thought that he’d had some tea already, milkier than he usually drank it, but someone had insisted he needed it.

He supposed he did. He was… very tired.

He turned back to Arden for explanation and then jolted, which made Arden put down whatever he was reading to look at him.

Arden was not just next to him. Mattin was pressed against Arden’s side from chest to thigh, and while Arden was dressed in an undershirt and pants, Mattin was not. Mattin was wearing a blanket. Or—he looked down—a large towel, with a blanket thrown over his legs.

He turned to Arden again, who stared back at him, interested and warm despite the shadows beneath his eyes that said he was also tired. His hair was damp, so he must have bathed not long ago, which was when Mattin realized that his hair was wet too but wrapped in another towel.

He left Arden to stare at him with that mortifyingly indulgent expression on his face to glance around the rest of the room, but Mil didn’t seem to be there.

Mattin was in their rooms but he wasn’t…. He’d come here for help, but he couldn’t be post-fever. He was tired and confused and hungry, but nowhere near as worn out as he should be.

“Did you… did you not want me?” That was also mortifying, but it was saying the words that made him aware of his hoarse throat and how the rest of his body was somewhat raw.

Veryraw. Sore in places and tingling and sensitive in others. But not aching. Not pained.

He recognized this with wonder, then turned back to Arden.

“Not want you?” Arden clucked his tongue.

“I’m sorry,” Mattin apologized immediately. “I’ve never felt this good befo…” He trailed off at Arden’s obviously smug expression. “I’ve never not hurt the next day,” he said anyway because Arden should hear it. He had a feeling his face was red but he still felt the fever enough that it meant nothing. “Thank you. I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

Arden snorted softly, then angled his head so Mattin could better see his neck and the four raised lines that Mattin took several moments to recognize as scratches. Arden lifted one of Mattin’s hands and raised it to the spot, where Mattin’s fingers lined up perfectly.

“Dear heart,” Arden was fondly amused, “you had two Gifted with you and we could barely keep up. Trouble? We are blessed indeed.”

“You should see the marks on my backside,” Mil announced as he pushed aside the curtains that led to the bedroom to enter the sitting room.