Alaric shifted with a gasp, and encouraged, Hal relaxed and pressed both his body and mouth lower. Still, he knew he was an amateur. He couldn’t find the rhythm Alaric had made look effortless. His teeth scraped once, and Alaric hissed, though his hand in Hal’s hair tightened rather than pushed him away. But gradually Hal figured it out—how much saliva he needed, how much suction to use, where to put his tongue, how to breathe through his nose when Alaric’s hips thrust up and pushed deeper into his throat.
“God,” Alaric breathed above him. “Yes, just like that. You’re doing so well.”
The praise went straight to Hal’s cock. Hell, you can raise a commoner to knighthood, but you can’t change their blood, and Hal had been raised to seek out praise from his betters. Apparently, that fucking training had stuck. Praise felt good to him, felt right—he enjoyed hearing it enough to try hard, in the hopes he’d receive more of it.
He rubbed himself against the bed for relief and let himself enjoy what he was doing. He hollowed his cheeks, taking Alaric deeper, losing himself in the salt-musk taste and the weight on his tongue. Somewhere in this stretch of time, where he waswetly sucking and Alaric’s sharp hips were thrusting up to meet him, his mind raced ahead until he could almost feel what it would be like to sink himself into Alaric’s ass.
He rolled with the fantasy of being inside Alaric, to have the knight beneath him, legs spread wide, taking Hal’s cock the way Hal was taking his now. He imagined Alaric’s face twisted in pleasure, in gruff pain, those silver eyes glazed and desperate. Yes, Hal would undo all the sharp smugness from the aristocrat’s face. Wouldn’t it be a shameful thing, a humiliation, to enjoy getting fucked by a crass upstart such as him? The fantasy made him moan around Alaric’s length, the vibration drawing a sharp gasp from above.
Hal’s hand wrapped around the base, stroking what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He pulled back to lap at the head, savouring the bitter fluid there, before swallowing him down again with newfound hunger.
But when he pulled up to breathe, the world flipped again.
Alaric moved with surprising strength, using his legs to hook around Hal’s shoulders and roll them until their positions were reversed. Hal found himself on his back with Alaric straddling his chest, that wet aristocratic cock pointed directly at his face.
Before he could process the reversal, Alaric slapped his cock against Hal’s cheek—once, twice—leaving wet trails across his stubbled skin.
Hal’s chest lurched, though the emotion behind it was muddy. Unclear. Gone was the certainty he was in control, but in its place wasn’t anger. He placed his hands on Alaric’s ass and gasped, realising how intently Alaric watched him.
“Beautiful,” Alaric murmured, stroking himself slowly.Up and down, slick and swollen. The casual dominance stunned Hal, who fell into a kind of trance watching the motion. The way the foreskin moved, the way the glans emerged, slick and flushed, andfuck,why did it feel like the sun itself was in his chest as he watched the other knight touch himself?
Alaric used his other hand to grip Hal’s jaw. They locked eyes. Alaric tilted his head and let go of him, rocking forward so that every forward thrust scraped the head of his cock against Hal’s parted lips.
“You look so good like this,” Alaric told him. “So desperate. So eager to please.”
Heat flooded Hal’s face, embarrassment mixing with arousal. He made to shove away, to reclaim some dignity, but the knight’s free hand was pinning him down. Alaric rubbed his tip against Hal’s lips, and all the fight guttered out, so when Alaric next guided himself forward, Hal surrendered utterly.
Fuck it. This was. . . so . . .
He opened his mouth and took Alaric inside.
“Good,” Alaric hissed. His voice dropped into an intimate register; he was half whispering to himself. “That’s it, Ser Halden. Yes.”
It was the use of his title that had Hal’s eyes rolling back. He felt his throat open, head fogging with a kind of pathetic pleasure. Alaric took advantage, thrusting deep into Hal’s throat until he choked, then pulling all the way out with a moan. Hal coughed and spluttered, stringy saliva coating his lips, and Alaric stared like he wanted to hold Hal down by the neck and use his throat mercilessly. The way Hal had intended to ruin Alaric.
But instead, Alaric only gracefully rolled off him andonto his side. He stared up at Hal, his other hand moving low to stroke Hal’s ignored, aching cock.
Hal threw his head back, all his frustration vanishing.
“Feels good?” Alaric murmured.
“Of course,” Hal whispered.
Hal looked at him, brow furrowed.
“Do you want to feel me?” Alaric asked. Hal dipped his eyes to Alaric’s hand; he was feeling him now, wasn’t he? Then Alaric murmured, “Do you want to feel how warm my insides are around your cock?”
Hal’s eyes fluttered closed. A dizziness struck him, a momentary loss of awareness. He couldn’t find the will to reply, either; what would come out if not a desperate litany ofyes, yes, yes?
Alaric let go, and now Hal’s eyes snapped opened with an exasperated hiss. Alaric, if he noticed, ignored Hal’s over eagerness and pushed his legs apart with gentle but inexorable pressure. Hal felt suddenly vulnerable like that, with Alaric’s eyes drinking him in and his legs spread to either side. What had happened that Alaric was taking control? How was it that Alaric could be blunt about what position he would take, and yet Hal was the one spread legged now?
Alaric ran a teasing hand over Hal’s cock. “You want this. Want me. Say it.”
Hal couldn’t. “Fuck you,” he managed, but the words came out breathless. Pathetic.
“Mm. Eventually.” Alaric flashed him a gentle smile. That confirmation—Gods, it would happen. Gods, he’d get to fuck the smug bastard—made Hal knock his head back against the pillow.
Alaric continued, “I was considering straddling you right now. Riding you until you were screaming.”
