Page 53 of The Scent of the Ideal

He did not push into his throat. Not yet. Rafi wanted to whine for that, which was strange too, but he had no blushes for it. When he was better, when Viau had set him to this task over and over until Rafi could take all of him and breathe and swallow and breathe, then Rafi would be the one on his back, and Viau would sit on him and push in to take what he needed.

He was wet at the thought of it, and hardening to imagine days of being of use to a growling, needy Viau. Viau might be rough then, would be rough, for Viau was strong despite his mannerly ways of hiding it.

Rafi would wear his bruises for that, as Viau had worn his.

He swallowed in vain, spit falling down his chin, his hair a heavy curtain around his hot face, as more of Viau’s cock filled his mouth. He choked but grabbed Viau again, swallowing more, breathing hard, and was rewarded with the upward roll of Viau’s hips. Viau took enough of Rafi’s mouth for Rafi to feel nearly overwhelmed, and fucked as if he had no intention of finishing, as if the point was to take a hole and keep it.

Rafi was rock hard at the thought, rutting just as persistently against Viau’s leg, not wanting it to end, unsurprised when he came anyway. A shaky, wet peak that did nothing for his stiff cock. Viau’s hands flexed, then tightened, and in the clear moment following his pleasure, Rafi felt the cloud of Viau’s aer and welcomed that too, reaching out and pulling in, like the glide over his tongue.

Viau groaned Rafi’s name, all the while pulling Rafi down as he rocked up, but now with his aer curling in and out of Rafi with the same rhythm.

And he had not lost control. Rafi shuddered for whatever they were doing that no mages and certainly no swersoldi had ever spoken of to him. When Viau finally did lose himself to perforis, body and aer, Rafi would feel him in his toes. He would be completely taken unless Rafi pushed past Viau’s fences and guardrails to offer his aer in return.

A pleasing thought for a hole to have, and so Rafi tried it, pushing back gently as Viau might do and sighing at the easy acceptance. The new aer wasn’t all that different from his own, and the only weakness was what lingered in his limbs from his climax and that was already fading.

He took aer and he drooled as he took cock, and he shivered when Viau changed his pace, holding Rafi down now when he rolled up, as if denying himself grew more difficult. His grunt made Rafi hum, and the vibration in his throat was another pleasure, so Rafi did it more, reveling in how it prompted Viau to thrust.

His lips were stretched, his jaw felt strange and achy, yet he didn’t pull away. He opened to Viau’s aer and Viau gave it to him with another grunt and a tug at his hair.

There was no warning when Viau came, only Viau putting a hand to the back of Rafi’s head to hold him and then Viau struggling not to grind up and failing. Rafi gagged and flailed at the deeper press, at the lack of air and the pressure. But he held on when Viau tried to push him away, breathing and swallowing as best he could. He didn’t allow Viau to let go until Viau was spent.

Panting, Viau eased Rafi back to leave his cockhead in Rafi’s mouth once again, and stared at Rafi with so much hunger for someone who had just emptied into a willing hole.

In his rut, he was going to bruise and take and take. Rafi was going to love it, as he loved this. Loved him.

Rafi put his tongue beneath the head, returning to the position he'd started in. His jaw ached, and Viau had pulled his hair with more force than he had probably meant to, but that was nothing compared to victory.

Viau didn’t leave the hole he’d taken, though he murmured, “Rafi, are you all right?” As though Rafi wasn’t rocking against him and their aer wasn’t mingling like steam from two cups of tea.

When he finally did pull out, hissing for the press of Rafi’s tongue where he must have been sensitive, he still didn’t let go. Chin wet, jaw aching, Rafi swallowed to clear his mouth but stayed where he was expected to be, his blood singing and aer alive. If he applied himself, he should able to allow his mouth and throat to be taken properly. They would have this again, and more. Rafi shuddered to think of how he might be placed on the bed or over a chair and used and used and used and praised afterward. Needed. Kept.

“Rafi,” Viau said, broken. He still did not let go. “Your aer.”

Rafi turned his head to kiss Viau’s hip. The slide of their aer together felt so good, it nearly made up for the stiffness in his jaw and the hollow Viau’s cock had left behind.

Viau made a noise of surprise, then urged Rafi up, though all he did for several breathless moments was look into Rafi’s eyes and clumsily pet his hair. Then, all at once, Viau detangled himself from Rafi’s curls to get his hands on the rest of his body.

He worked past Rafi’s belt, past his clothes, to slide three fingers into Rafi’s wet hole. He put his other hand to Rafi’s ass and pressed into him dry while Rafi begged him to with weak, even pathetic, mewls and whines. It was embarrassing, but Viau loved it and so Rafi loved it. He would keep all of Viau in him. Viau belonged there, and Viau would find him beautiful.

“The same,” Viau told him breathlessly, kissing him, taking every one of Rafi’s holes while Rafi plundered his aer and used his own to stroke inside of Viau. “Familiar. Shared. I won’t leave you. Will you keep me?” As if he didn’t realize that was what they were doing now. “Rafi. Rafi, please.”

Viau might have said the words, or Rafi might have felt them burn between them as he came and then worked Viau’s cock inside of him while petting the aer Viau gave to him over and over simply to feel it move joyously between them. Then there were only moans and shudders in the moonlight.

Chapter Sixteen

Rafi woke and could tell from the sunlight streaming into the room that it was too late to meet Viau for a bout of sparring. It was also near to the hour he was supposed to be pummeling younger students in the Arms Room, so despite the lingering tiredness from the night, his sticky, dry mouth, and the sense that he should have had a much worse headache than he did, he rushed from the bed in order to find his clothes so he might dress and then bolt to his room to bathe and change.

He saw the pitcher and cup on a tray on Viau’s desk and drank some of the fresh water as Viau likely wished him to, but Viau himself was absent. In a hurry, Rafi spent only a moment or two imagining that Viau had walked to the palace for his mount or perhaps to talk with Bellai since their evening together had been cut short.

It wasn’t until Rafi stumbled into the Arms Room, tucking in his shirt, his hair an unbound mess, and Instructor Guen shouted to him, “Tizzan! Were we keeping you from something?” that some of the details of the night before slammed into him.

Rafi was left to gape at the scowling instructor. The tittering of some nearby first-years brought him back to the moment, and he hurried over to wrap himself in padding while tying his hair from his face, seeking to focus on his task. He had never been late or failed any assignment and he wasn’t about to start now.

If he wanted to find a placement in the palace, he would need to be the best.

In the palace? The thought stopped him dead, such a surprise that he almost didn’t notice his second thought: Viau already thought him the best.

“There you are.” Katoh greeted Rafi with a sour sort of cheer; she preferred more sleep than she’d probably gotten. “We thought Viau might have tied you to the bed.” She leered but didn’t put much effort into it, probably because she’d managed to stun Rafi again and he was still recovering from his last two shocks. “You should try that sometime.”