Page 41 of The Scent of the Ideal

But it worked.

Viau called him killer in a short, hoarse whisper, but moved as Rafi wanted. Rafi took a hand from his thigh to pet Viau’s cheek and then his mouth, pushing his fingers between Viau’s lips before sliding his hand back down to his thigh to keep his legs up and his body open.

It was good, the slow push in and slower withdrawal, but he could not touch like this. That mattered with no heat to make his lust vague. He whined, a vibration in his throat though he heard not a sound, and then, dizzy at the speed of it, he was above Viau, with Viau on his back against the remaining pillows, and Viau’s dark eyes ravenous in the candlelight.

Rafi didn’t have to be told, although he was clumsy as he felt for Viau’s cock and guided it in. He knew the idea as he knew he had done this during aedis, both times. But now his muscles pulled and he felt it. He planted his hands and rode hard, reveling in the feel and Viau’s heat and the rumbles from the miné who could not stop touching him.

Viau stroked Rafi’s chest and his hips. He teased Rafi’s cock and then found Rafi wet enough to be touched there too, the rumble from him strong enough to be felt in Rafi’s bones.

Rafi said, “Vi. Vi, please,” and Viau gave him a palm to ride as well, and a squeezing hold on the head of his cock, and when Rafi cried out and finished, rolled them over to take Rafi as hard as Rafi had ridden him. Relentless, pitiless, taking and taking until Rafi shuddered and gasped and came again. Viau growled and spilled in him and then pulled out to spill on his thigh before pushing back inside.

Then he froze, gasping for air, “Sorry. Rafi, I….”

“More.” Rafi didn’t care what Viau was worried about it, only that Viau wanted him and was rough about it as if he couldn’t help himself. “Keep going.”

Rafi’s hole was sensitive and it was a shock, but Viau hauled him close with bruising hands and ground against his backside as his cock softened.

Greedy, the pair of them. Rafi moaned and shook against the bed and offered himself and his aer for more.

His miné was strong and would give him whatever he wanted. When his miné’s perforis came, Rafi would be rutted into for hours, days, and stroke Viau’s heavy, warm aer until it would shiver against his before it settled.

The thoughts did not quite make sense, but Rafi drifted in them, bathed in sunlight with grass and damp earth beneath him and Viau at his back.

Then Viau made a disgruntled noise that Rafi barely had time to worry over before Viau dealt with whatever was bothering him by reaching around to tug Rafi’s cock until it began to stiffen again.

“Forgive me,” Viau said as if he had something to apologize for. “It’s not perforis, but I can’t not answer.”

Rafi wondered vaguely if Viau was embarrassed, then why. Then he wondered what Viau was supposed to be answering if not his nex’s call.

“Vi.” Rafi nearly drooled into the bedding, words slurred as he throbbed and wanted and his aer told Viau all of that. “Harder.”

Not polite. Viau put his lips to Rafi’s skin and laughed breathlessly, almost giddily. Then he rolled them onto their sides and hauled up one of Rafi’s thighs to make the taking easier. He grunted into Rafi’s hair and moved as if he had no plans to pull out ever again.

Rafi flung a hand back to hold him, and there was nothing more to be said as they moved together.

Chapter Thirteen

Rafi was supposed to resume his rough sparring with the first-and-second years that morning and was scolded by Instructor Guen for being late. The scolding should have been worse, by Rafi’s reckoning. After all, he had been honored by the assignment and should have been striving to reward the academy’s faith in him. But Guen had put him to work for what time had remained in those students’ schedules, then sent him off to eat, adding another scolding about Rafi failing to eat breakfast.

Rafi had run to bathe and then make it to the Arms Room. He hadn’t had time to eat. But to keep the peace and to settle his noisy stomach he obeyed without arguing, and was happy to join Katoh, who was seated by herself as she ate an early lunch.

At least, until she looked up from her soup to greet him. The slow smile that overtook her face made Rafi’s cheeks heat despite knowing he had no reason to blush.

“I can’t look that different.” Rafi contested that smile, frowning that he even had to. “Do I?” He should be controlling his reactions better, not advertising to everyone that he had spent the night with a lover.

“I’m your friend.” Katoh resumed eating after a small sigh. “I can tell when you’re happy. Obviously.”

“Oh.” Rafi could have decided that meant he hadn’t been happy before, but suspected it meant he was happier now. “I was hoping I’d look satisfied, if anything.”

Katoh snorted into her spoonful of soup and looked up. “That’s not how it works. You’ll never be fully satisfied. You will think you are, but then you’ll want more.”

“Yes, and I won’t get it.” Rafi studied her in return, debating getting up to find her a napkin. “So I should say I was hoping to be satisfied enough.”

“Hmm.” Katoh didn’t appear to believe him but she also didn’t press the matter. Despite how Rafi sometimes teased her, she could be tactful, she just often chose not to be. “Guess you’ll have to keep fucking him to find out. You forgot to grab a spoon.” She glanced meaningfully down to the plate holding Rafi’s bowl of soup and portion of wild rice. “Must have been some night.”

Rafi got up to go get a spoon and a napkin for her without acknowledging that last comment. When he returned, Katoh spoke only of her latest letter from her mother, tactful again.

Laure sat at a small table across from Rafi in the academy library that was open to students while Rafi attempted once again to figure out poetry in a way that would help him speak with more eloquence. A book on how poetry worked would have probably made more sense to him than trying to figure out the rules from the poems themselves.