Mattin had a sudden, vivid memory of the bed in that room, the furs covering it clumped and wet with spend and Mattin’s slick, Mattin’s cheek sliding against a place not yet sullied as Mil plowed into him. Arden’s hand had been at Mattin’s neck, holding him down, not that Mattin had struggled.
Or had he? Mattin’s lips curled with a remembered snarl, and then he heard, “More,” in his voice, before hands went to his hips to move him. Arden ordered Mattin to breathe, as if Mattin would ever forget to do that. Then Mattin was shaking out a gasp and gazing up at nothing as he was filled, and filled, and he couldn’t move and did not take in air until just before he heard his voice again, commanding, “More,” sweet and slow as honey.
Then Mil’s remark sank in and Mattin snapped his attention to Mil while Mil calmly took a seat at the table and began to eat.
“I did not scratch your…” Mattin didn’t even get a chance to finish before Mil waggled his eyebrows. “Oh no.” Mattin turned to Arden, who was no less smug. “Ohno.”
“Oh yes.” Mil nearly purred it. “Sassed us good and proper too. Kept us in line and focused on our work as surely as any Blessed ought to.”
Mattin tried to hold in another protest but a squeak emerged.
“Absolutely ruined one of the blankets,” Arden revealed. “Mil wants to display it somewhere.”
“Wild little thing under all those fancy vests.” Mil sighed happily. “More than I ever expected. Think you about killed me when we ran in and found you like that, Sass.”
Mattin should not ask. He knew he should not, because they wanted him to. “Like what?” he asked anyway, blushing so much he could feel it through the fever.
“Naked and hungry.” Mil’s hot stare held Mattin in place, no matter how much he wanted to duck his head against Arden and never look up again.
“Helped yourself to our bed, which was unexpected,” Arden added like someone trying to sound thoughtful but who was just as aroused as Mil was. “But a good surprise. Our pretty Blessed waiting for us. I’m sorry it took us so long to get there, and that I had to be sure you were ready.”
Mattin wondered with distant hysteria if they expected him to scold them for it. He supposed he should. That was their role and their duty, or would have been, if he’d ever properly asked them to assist him during his fever before all this.
“I….” He still could not look away from Mil, who eyed Mattin like he was a sweet bun filled with cream. “I doubt you kept me waiting long,” he finally said.
The previous images—the memories—were blurred and vague until they suddenly weren’t. Mattin’s spine went straight as a long, deep pull carried through his body, as if his fever had not entirely faded. But then he thought thosesorts of memories might have made him feel that way no matter what time of year it was.
“‘Ready?’” he asked Arden in a croak. Arden had said he’d made Mattin wait so Arden could ensure he wasready. Mattin’s face was flaming because he could imagine how Arden would have determined that, and if Mattin had truly been “naked and hungry” in their bed, he would have also been hot, open, and dripping. “I don’t like to discuss the specifics, but I should have already been,” he whispered it, “ready.”
He shifted in place, not squirming, although it felt like squirming when his thighs rubbed together, and his cock grew hot and throbbing, and he felt… decidedly used, as if he could feel where Arden and Mil’s cocks had been inside him. As if he could still feel where theyweren’t, because he’d been hollowed out and left with a memory that was not enough.
His thighs were, in fact, stinging as if chafed, but also slippery with oil or salve, probably applied by one or both of them at some point to soothe his reddened skin. They might also have given him food or water, although that Mattin did not recall.
He was going to die of embarrassment. He had been unable to care for himself, whining and demanding and apparently scratching them. All the while naked and full of their spend—a great deal of it if they had both repeatedly had him. That was a mess Mattin normally tried to avoid but now he only flushed at the thought and burned while wondering how many times they had taken him in the day or days of his fever. If he had just spread his legs to allow them to rut by the end, if he had moaned for that and they had been indulgent there as well, or if they had been shocked at his wantonness as he continued to make demands and scratch them for responding too slowly.
“You were nearly ready when you got here,” Arden explained apologetically, sending a glance to Mil. “But Mil is… large.”
Mattin worked his jaw and felt it sore, and looked to Mil as he remembered the stretch of his lips around Mil’s cock, then trying his best to get Mil to fuck his throat because he’d been so…Blessed. Mil had watched all the while, his gaze almost exactly like it was now.
Mattin made a noise he could not define.
Mil was abruptly serious. “A fever can make you want things that might pain you later. So Arden wanted to be sure, for your sake and for mine. I’d never hurt you, Sass. Not like that.”
“I know,” Mattin said immediately. “That’s why I lov…” He quickly gulped that back down. “That’s why I came here. And you didn’t. Hurt me, that is. I don’t feel more than…” He had no way to describe the sensation of having apparently been filled so well that he still felt it. No way he was willing to tellthem, anyway. Their expressions if he said he was ruined for any others would haunt him almost as much as knowing it was true, and yet they were going to marry someone else. He forced himself to glance to Arden before facing Mil again. “I’m not in pain.”
“That’s the funny thing,” Mil added, a twinkle in his eye that vanished when Mattin crossed his arms defensively over his chest. “Not that I’m laughing at you, Sass.”
“He was laughing atusfor being surprised.” Arden gave Mattin a probing look. “Are you certain you’re not in pain?”
“I know what pain is!” Mattin snapped at them without feeling a need to apologize. “And no. Although I am….” He had that sensation again, increasing his desire to shift around and bring his thighs together to better feel where there were no longer any cocks inside him. “I’m….”
The two of them appeared to be hanging off his every word.
Mattin forced himself to be still and hoped they did not look down to the blanket over his lap.
“I can tell I was satisfied,” he said primly, putting the twinkle back in Mil’s eye and making Arden sigh with pleasure. “You don’t need to keep fussing over me.”
“He likes fussing over you.” Mil snorted. “So do I, for that matter. Thought that at least would be obvious by now.”
