“What is that?” He stumbled ahead, arms clutched to the box. His wings flicked nervously, the rustling of them like fine parchment and rattling coins. The metallic flicker of them made song when they fluttered. “A key?”
“Of sorts. It is meant to be inserted and twisted to unlock a plethora of delights.” Stamel chuckled.
“Oh. It’s one ofthosekinds of devices. Does it have something to do with my piercings? Because I can’t imagine it giving me any sort of delight when insertedthere.”Seidrik glared at the thing, and Stamel chuckled darkly, bumping into his mate with his chest to keep him moving.
“It’s just up ahead, you brute!” Seidrik stumbled into a glade of moss, shaded at the edges and overshadowing a waist-deep creek. Crystalline water rippled over a bottom of smooth stone with fish a dozen colors of starlight flicking about.
The legendary effects of the climbing cherry perked his cock to life, or perhaps it was in his head. Thinking about Seidrik whimpering in embarrassment often had him half mast, so to speak, anyway.
Seidrik sat the box on a rock, making short work of his tunic one button at a time. When he laid it neatly over the wooden surface, Stamel made a show of shirking his tunic, dropping his breeches, and running his hand through his messy locks. “Poor, naïve omega.”
“I may be naïve, but I won’t be pitied for it—” Seidrik stumbled back as Stamel wrapped his arms around him from behind, nipping at his neck.
“I could very well play with your nipples with this.” Stamel pressed Seidrik’s wings to his back tight, the papery gleam of them crushing between them with that delightfully papery feel. When they twitched, they brushed over the front of his undergarments, the light caress of them overstimulating.
Seidrik pressed his bottom back against Stamel, spreading his wings a little as if wanting to feel his hardness. “You’re too complacent. I like it when you fight for it.”
“What is there to fight for? You always make me feel so go—” Seidrik gasped as Stamel traced the metallic tip of the tool over his nipple, spreading the cold silver of it around in slow circles before tapping at the ring, still tender and reddened around the new intrusion.
“I’ll make you feel good, but only after you’ve embarrassed yourself and begged for it.” Stamel slotted the rod through the ring of his piercing and twisted it, as one might a church key on a tin, earning a cry of pain that silenced into a shuddering breath.
Stamel’s other hand traced blunt fingertips over the pert bud, teasing the bead at the bottom of the ring, flicking it up and down rather like a door knocker. The gesture was almost as if he asked Seidrik to open for him.He always would.
With a quick gesture, Stamel drew the silver rod away and traced it down Seidrik’s chest. Every inch drew a shuddering breath, breeches tenting welcomely as the tip drew toward his navel to circle.
Stamel walked back, finding a comfortable place to sit, perching on a softly mossed stone. “I’m going to have you straddle my legs and ride my cock.”
Seidrik sidled back with him and hummed while shirking his confining undergarments and trousers. They fell in a pile, left forgotten.
Stamel teased the little silver rod over his belly as Seidrik stood before him, crease glistening with slick. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” Seidrik said, his voice a whimper of pleasure.
Stamel hummed, nuzzling into Seidrik’s lower back, other hand wandering to slot between his cheeks where familiar warmth hugged over one finger then two, pliant and willing only as an omega could be. Two fingers opened him to a third with a whimper. Wasting no time, Stamel drew Seidrik back onto his lap, hoisted him above his thighs, and slotted him easily with a firm grip to his thighs. Sheathing into Seidrik was better than any other male he’d ever had.
Tight velvet hugged him from tip to base, bringing forth a groan of pleasure. The groan turned into a frustrated pant as he fought to brace himself, one hand on Stamel’s horns, the other reaching for his cock to stroke.
“Don’t touch. That’s for me to do.” Stamel balanced Seidrik against him with one arm and drew his hand with the silver sounding rod to his lips. Unideal as saliva was, it would serve its purpose. Stamel licked the tool along its cold length and balanced Seidrik with an arm around his waist. “Keep both hands on my horns.”
Seidrik, obedient as ever, flung his other hand back and braced himself easily. There, Stamel slotted his thumb through the ring at the end of the tool, the length of it held across his palm, the small, bulbous tip of it ready for its purpose. “Move yourself, beta. Make yourself ready to come for me.”
Seidrik cried out, a soft whimper of pleasure that sharpened into alarm as Stamel drew the tip of it to his leaking cock. He stopped, ass lifted, body tensing. “Wh-what are you doing? Stamel?”
“Quiet. If you make a wrong move, it will hurt.” Stamel lined his thumb up through the ring more securely and slotted the blunted end into Seidrik’s tip. “And this is the kind of hurt I don’t want you to feel.”
Seidrik struggled at first, bleating out in shock and alarm, but his struggle only speared him down onto Stamel’s cock. “Stop. Not in there.”
Stamel listened for once and paused his struggle. “Why?”
“It’s wrong?” Seidrik panted heavily, cock twitching with forbidden thrill.
“Tell me how it’s wrong when it will feel so good.” Stamel traced the tip around Seidrik’s unyielding stiffness.
Seidrik whined and strained, his insides squeezing beyond his control. Stamel teased him back, flexing his cock deep in Seidrik’s velvet depths. He did not answer, so Stamel proceeded, pushing the blunt tip in with gentle ease. Seidrik grunted and jerked, breath sawing out of him as the first centimeter sank in, then a second.
“If you tell me to stop, I’ll do so, pull out, and we can get dressed and go back to the castle.” Stamel’s suggestion came out in a purr that he intended to be more of a threat.
No response. Seidrik’s body trembled, but if he lay soaking in his mate’s insides for too long without stimulation, he could grow soft and that would present its own problem.
