“Are you all right, sweet boy?”
Walter nodded his head vigorously while he moaned.
“Good. Now I’m going to make you come.”
Grimbold’s tongue teased and tormented the boy as he did, indeed, consume him. After a fashion. He would be absolutely delicious during his heat, and Grimbold already ached to taste it, but even now he was so good, so sweet, and so perfect. He could’ve spent all day focused on just this, but despite Walter’s claims to be an adult, he was still a youth, and possessed a youth’s stamina.
He came within mere minutes, screaming and shooting cum onto his stomach and chest. Grimbold moved up the boy, licking him clean with lazy strokes of his tongue.
“Oh, my…” Walter seemed unable to think coherently.
Grimbold kissed him deeply, Walter’s sweetness flooding all his senses. “Would you like a shower, sweet? I’d love one.”
The boy cleared his throat. “You haven’t… er… released.”
“Not yet. There’ll be time. But first a shower and then food.” Grimbold now understood the last-minute changes to the menu—they were all items that would keep if not consumed at the regular mealtime hour. Somehow Angela had known. As had Carsons. But he shouldn’t be surprised. The staff always knew everything. “I’ll have supper brought to us up here.”
And after he’d scrubbed his omega from head to toe, then fed him properly, Grimbold would make him come again, and again, and again, until Walter understood just how worthy they both were.
12
Wally
Following dinner, Grimbold took Wally to bed. Piece by piece he stripped Wally of his clothing, then spent the next three hours between Wally’s thighs. Wally had never known that tongues could feel so good.
When at last Grimbold had coaxed every last orgasm from his body, Wally crumpled onto the bed warm, comfortable, and safe. Not a muscle in his body was tense.
“Are you going to take me now, sir?” Wally nuzzled the pillow and closed his eyes, a lazy smile on his face. None of his bones felt solid. “You deserve pleasure, too.”
“No, Walter.” The bed dipped and the floorboards creaked. Wally opened his eyes to spot Grimbold at the side of the bed. He was bare-chested, all broad, sleek muscle and silver hair. Wally enjoyed the way it didn’t match the dark hair crowning his head. The difference was a secret shared between the two of them—something sacred and unexpected that Wally shamelessly enjoyed. While he watched, Grimbold lifted the covers and pulled them up and over Wally’s body, then tucked him in. “I don’t need that. Not tonight. What brings me the most pleasure is you.”
Wally hummed with pleasure and cuddled into the bedding. There was no lie in that. Grimbold spoke the truth.
Want,Grimbold’s dragon urged.Claim, breed, mate.
Wally’s face heated. Embarrassed and flattered, he pushed his cheek more closely into the pillow and clutched the covers to his chest. This was power, he realized. A dragon capable of ending his life with a single snap of his jaws wanted nothing more than to make Wally his own.
Soon,Wally promised, sounding flustered even in his thoughts.Not now, but soon.
Every night after that, Grimbold came to say goodnight and tuck Wally into bed. Despite the insistence of his dragon, he always gave and never took.
At least, not that he knew.
The truth was that every night when Grimbold turned out the lights and closed the bedroom door, he took Wally’s heart with him, and every morning, when he came to Wally’s bed to help him greet the day, he brought it back unscathed.
* * *
Three months passed. Three glorious, blissful months during which every day started and ended with Grimbold at Wally’s bedside. From time to time, when her arthritic limbs allowed the trip, Beatrice would meander into the room before lights out and paw at the side of the bed until Grimbold let her up.
When those visits became more and more frequent, to the point where Beatrice was sleeping in Wally’s bed more often than not, another change occurred. One night, after lifting her up and turning off the lights, Grimbold hesitated at the door. One hand on the doorframe, the other left loose at his side, Grimbold turned his head to look back at Wally and Beatrice on the bed. A moment passed where all was still and silent before a decision was made.
That night, Grimbold closed the door and came to bed with Wally.
After that, he never left.
“When will you mate with me?” Wally asked one morning when Grimbold woke him with kiss upon kiss, the feeling of scratchy stubble against Wally’s chin now not only a sensation he enjoyed, but one he looked forward to. “Your dragon begs for it. I want to pleasure you, sir. I want to pleasure you both.”
“Not now, Walter,” Grimbold said like he always did. He wrapped his hand around Wally’s stiffening prick and started to stroke, putting an end to Wally’s questions. “I need to know that you’re ready.”
