Aster couldn’t run away this time.
Corin closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again, and took a deep breath. “You think I came for you because I didn’t want you to do anything desperate, and I’d have felt guilty if you did. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Of course that’s what I’m saying!”
“I came for you,” Corin said, slowly and carefully, “because I realized nothing mattered to me but you. Jules’s letter made everything clear. I came because I’d never been so terrified in my life. No, shut up, let me finish!” He gave Aster’s wrists a squeeze, and Aster subsided, seething. “I didn’t come because I was afraid. I came because, damn it, I’m terrible at this. I wouldn’t have been so afraid if I didn’t love you. Do you understand? I love you, and I was an idiot. And here I am. I’m sorry it took me so long and that stupid Jules had to be the one to make me understand, because now I really do owe him a fucking trumpet.”
Aster had to count to ten before he trusted his voice. He couldn’t pinch himself, because both of his hands were out of commission.
“Say that again,” he rasped, eyes blurring. Tears, probably, but if Corin loved him he wouldn’t hold it against him. “Say it again?”
Corin leaned down, eyes alight and the corner of his mouth twitching. “I owe Jules a trumpet? Say that again?”
“Corin!”
“I love you,” Corin said, coming so close their lips brushed. “I love you more than my hoard. Do you understand what that means?”
No, because Aster wasn’t a dragon, and he’d never truly fathom what a hoard meant to one.
But he did understand what it meant to love.
“I think I’ve loved you for years, Corin,” he said, almost too shy to get the words out, but praying Corin would understand how he meant it. “I don’t have a hoard. I just have you. And—I think it means I belong to you.”
“Forever,” Corin agreed. “Mine. If you run away from me, there won’t be anywhere you can hide. Not that I’ll give you a reason to,” he added hastily, and Aster had to laugh.
“I know you won’t,” he said, and Corin finally kissed him.
The kiss went on and on, their bodies beginning to move with the rhythm of their lips and tongues. Corin rolled his cock against Aster’s and shoved a knee up, pushing his thighs apart. Heat built and built, a tight, nearly unbearable warmth behind Aster’s bollocks, and God, nothing would soothe him but Corin’s cock, Corin’s knot, his husband fucking him until he screamed so loudly the gods on the ceiling had to cover their ears.
“We’re married,” he gasped into the kiss, as the reality of it burst in on him anew. “You’re myhusband.” When would he grow tired of saying it? Of feeling that bubble of happiness in his chest as he did? Perhaps never.
“Yes,” Corin growled. “Your husband. Which makes your happiness my job and my pleasure. What did you want for your wedding night, sweetheart?”
“Oh,” Aster said, and bit Corin’s lip. “Mmm.”
“If you won’t tell me I’ll have to guess.” Corin moved down, breathing hot against Aster’s collarbones. “You didn’t like being pushed up against the wall, I know that much.”
He had, only not tonight, but saying so would sound so…silly. Weak and pathetic. It wasn’t like they were virgins, separately or together.
“I like walls,” he said lamely, and Corin laughed, shifting over to bite at Aster’s nipple through the fabric of his shirt, making him arch and cry out.
“You tell me if I’m getting it wrong, then,” Corin said, and kept moving down.
And down, pushing Aster’s shirt up to mouth over his stomach and his ribs and his hipbones, letting go of his wrists to busy his hands with Aster’s trouser buttons. Not wrong at all. Down further, even less wrong, licking Aster’s cock through the fabric.
“Now that we’re married, I’ll never need to let you out of bed,” Corin murmured. Married. They were married, and the word in Corin’s deep voice made him moan. Of course, it was too much to hope that Corin wouldn’t notice and use it against him. He lifted his head for a moment, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Married,” he said again, and Aster writhed and buried his hands in that thick black hair, shoving his head down again. Corin chuckled and kissed the head of his cock.
“You bastard,” Aster panted.
“That’s your bastard husband to you,” Corin pointed out—and bit down.
The shock of pain and the unbearable sweetness ofhusbandhit him all at once, arrowing down to his bollocks. He went tense in every muscle, arching up, spine tingling, and his cock spasmed as wetness spread over the front of his trousers.
When he blinked back to reality, Corin had sat up on his heels, staring down at the evidence of Aster’s pleasure.
He shook his head, clearing it perhaps, and started to unbutton his own trousers. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Gentle wedding night’s over. Now I’m going to hold you down and knot you open like I own you.” He grinned, teeth too sharp for a human mouth. “Because I do.”
Aster swallowed hard. “You do,” he said, voice shaking a little, throat raw. “You do own me, Corin. I love you so much.”
