With a few gentle pumps, Stamel forged the rod down the length of Seidrik’s cock, earning snarls of pleasure or pain. Either way, his cock stayed hard, so Stamel rocked the toy in and out, stroking Seidrik’s shaft, letting the rod move with his fist.
Seidrik’s body bowed and Stamel held his hand still. “The only way my cock moves is if you help. Fuck yourself on me, Seidrik.”
Seidrik’s body convulsed, and his hips pumped. Stamel flexed his hips, bouncing with Seidrik’s motions, the gestures jerky and awkward. Still, his cock stayed hard, the rod jostling against every motion. Seidrik’s cock jerked as an unholy noise tore free of his throat. The very start of it made Stamel’s cock swell. The writhing of Seidrik’s body, the pumping of his hips, the sheer weight on his horns. Stamel snarled and gripped Seidrik’s cock tight. “F-fuck! Did you come, beta?”
Seidrik howled, insides clamping down in a spasm that wouldn’t stop. Cock pulsing, Seidrik babbled nonsense.
“You did,” Stamel said, panting as he rocked his hips up, trying to stave his knot off. That sacred spot within him spasmed, triggering Stamel into a surge that made his cock kick. All hope lost, his knot swelled, and Seidrik’s crazed motions rocked the knot ever deeper, sending Stamel over the edge.
The air punched free of Stamel’s lungs, his balls throbbing as hot seed boiled through him, filling his mate.
“Need to. Gonna… Stamel! Pull it out! Pull it out!” Seidrik’s frantic screech and clawing thrash made Stamel pull his hand free, and with it, the sounding rod.
Restrained cum, several orgasms worth, erupted and streaked over his hand, onto the moss before them and rained over their thighs. Seidrik screamed through it all, hips jerking, each echo of pleasure sending another jet of cum until it dribbled out with that sugary-sweet scent of an omega’s bliss.
Some alphas wondered why they should even bother with an omega’s pleasure.
Those same alphas had never tasted the spend of an omega three eruptions in, leaking the last of their urgency. Stamel drew his hand back, licking Seidrik’srelease off his fingers as his mate nearly sobbed with the letdown of ultimate release.
“I don’t know why these things aren’t more popular…” Stamel kissed up Seidrik’s back, nuzzling between his wings.
Seidrik made nonsensical noises, broken syllables, and whimpers as his body sank, hands trembling.
Stamel shifted his hips, dislodging his knot. Seidrik, boneless and defeated, slid to the ground, chest heaving. Still, nonsense flowed in breathy, broken syllables.
“I—I think I wish to curl up and die for about thirty minutes.” Seidrik attempted to stand and tumbled onto his side with a whimper.
“Only thirty minutes? I should hold out longer, next time.” Stamel laughed and spun the rod on his finger. “How about a cold bath?”
Seidrik groaned as Stamel stood and helped him stand, limping a little as they made it to the creek. Cool water flowed over them as they splashed over their vital areas as to not return to the castle smelling like a brothel.
Once cleaned, they gathered their clothing, dressing once more as they hid their wings and horns. Stamel almost lamented it, losing the view of his shaken mate. Perhaps once they were wed, he’d make Seidrik hang about nude in their quarters. The thought enamored him, his mate lying about bare for him at his beck and call.
“I’m curious about the box.” Seidrik broke Stamel’s train of thought, marching over to it to flick the latch. “She said to open it after.”
Stamel glanced over and frowned when he opened it.
A slew of tiny white blossoms tightly packed on a stem, cradled amid a deeply green leaf lay within.Stamel’s brow furrowed. “Is it a rare flower, an ingredient or what?”
Seidrik paled. “It’s affapuria flowers.”
Seidrik closed the box and sat it on the rock before taking a step away as if it burned him. He took a deep breath and glanced at Stamel, eyes wide, before glancing back at the box. Cautiously, he lifted the lid and closed it again. “No. No, no, no!”
“What? Is it poison? An omen? A bad message?” Stamel stood and grabbed Seidrik’s shoulders.
“Nymphs give flowers as gifts. They have a very strict code of presentation for different ones. It’s calledthe language of flowers.” Seidrik chewed on his thumbnail anxiously.
“And what do these mean?” Stamel was familiar with the concept of a language of flowers. Their forests were mostly devoid of nymphs, so he’d had little reason to study it.
“One gives it to a person when they are…” Seidrik swallowed and muttered the rest, his skin going pale.
“When they’re what?” Stamel lifted the lid of the box and stared at the pretty flowers.
“Expecting a child!”
Stamel took a deep breath. “It’s not a joke, is it? No chance of that?”
“Not a chance in the heavens or stars above.” Seidrik sat on the ground, paling in disbelief as he rested a hand on his belly. “But I took my preventatives…”
