Page 43

Goldilocks

Sam lay out in Roan’s lap, his artistic pursuits abandoned on the stone behind Roan. The first time Roan had brought Sam to the glade, he had shown the shyness Roan knew to expect. Then, as he’d examined the trees and ferns, the mosses growing on the stone, the flowers that required little sunlight to flourish, every bird that perched on thin branches above their heads, Sam had relaxed. Removed the outer layers of his clothing so that he stood in just his shorts, and those too, Roan knew he would relax enough to discard as well. If not now, or the next day, or the next month, then perhaps in the next year. Roan was confident he would eventually earn Sam’s total trust; he would be comfortable to show himself before Roan in his truest form at all times, and not just in moments of passion.

Roan would not rush his shy mate, nor would he begrudge Sam any of the patience he showed now or in the future; his mate was a tormented soul. A kind soul, bruised by anguishes that Roan sorely wished he might have spared him, if only he had known him sooner. If only he hadn’t shown quite so much patience with coaxing him to his home…Roan stopped that line of thought. If Roan had pushed harder, encroached upon his independence, he might have driven Sam away forever.

Roan ran his fingers through his mate’s beautiful red curls that he had grown to adore beyond all else. Sam leaned into his touch and rested his head on Roan’s tail, tilting back his head to offer Roan the sweetest of smiles. After that smile, he adjusted his knees, retrieved his drawing pad, and rested it on his thighs.

Sam’s pencil scraped against the page, cross-hatching shadows in his sketch. Roan watched, enjoying the lazy harmony of the glade. He knew when he’d found it as a child that he would share it with his future mate, though he did not realise at the time his future mate would love it as much as he did. More so even, as Roan could plainly see Sam’s appreciation of their surroundings in his drawings. Sam was reserved in sharing his emotions verbally, but that reservation did not extend to his art.

Caressing Sam’s hair, Roan spoke, his voice joining in with the chattering birds. Roan hardly got a few sentences in before Sam’s face was buried in his hands, and he was groaning, as if in physical pain. Sam always did this when Roan told his mate what parts of him he admired. He found his shyness endearing – and he said as much to him – and he enjoyed watching it fade away to joy or pleasure, to a smile or a groan, depending on what they were doing.

“Stop, please, stop,” Sam begged. “I get it.”

“I did not think that I would tolerate a mate who defied me,” Roan said, coaxing Sam to lower his hands. “But I find your independence so incredibly endearing that I adore to see you even in conflict with your brother and his mate. To see him make a sound and you to fix a look – my sister would have laughed for me to tell her that such looks bring me delight.”

Sam’s eyes softened. He caught Roan’s hands in his. “You like me giving Ivan dirty looks?”

“It is very amusing,” Roan said. Though he couldn’t care less for anyone else, even if they had the exact same conflict. When it was Sam, it was amusing. When it was Sam, Roan wanted to be there to witness everything. Every thoughtful smile, every word, every silence.

“And my defiance?” Sam’s eyebrow rose. He had a tone to warn Roan he was venturing into dangerous waters.

“My kind are…territorial. Possessive.” Roan chose his words carefully, as this was somewhere their species differed. “I believed that meant I would control my future mate, but I realise now that I was made to protect and care for you, not limit.”

Sam’s breath wobbled on the exhale. Roan studied his face, seeing strong emotions there. He almost looked upset, but Roan did not think that was how he felt. “You force me to draw you all the time.” Sam’s voice was rough.

Roan huffed. “I force nothing. You enjoy painting me.” Roan might insist sometimes. He enjoyed his mate’s undivided attention.

Sam reached up a hand, fingers brushing against his bottom lip. Roan caught the scent of graphite and remnants of floral bath soap lingering on his skin. Roan captured Sam’s hand and kissed his artist’s fingers.

“You were made to protect and care…for me?” Sam asked softly.

Roan hummed his agreement.

They studied each other in comfortable understanding before a slow smile turned up Sam’s lips. “I think you were made to inspire me too. You’re both muse and masterpiece, Roan.”

Roan could not help himself. He pressed a kiss to his sweet mate’s brow. And again to his lovely hair. His lips, his chin. Sam pushed him away with a chuckle. “Let me finish this first.”

His perfect mate did not disappoint when it came to status either, though Roan had not realised that when he’d first approached him. His mate was within the young monarch’s court, heavily favoured by his kin, and had even been entertained and considered as a suitor. Though the young monarch had poor taste if he chose Adonis over Sam. That feral beast had gotten on Roan’s nerves so many times he’d have chased him clear of the region years ago if he wasn’t so powerful. And now he’d gone and mated the monarch, so Roan had to tolerate him.

Sam hummed to himself, happy as he returned to his drawing. Roan studied his face. All traces of bruises had vanished, healed thanks to…Adonis. Perhaps Roan could find it within himself to tolerate the merman after all.

His parents might have disapproved, Roan considered. The older generation would have turned their noses up at Roan accepting Sam as a mate with the lack of courting on his behalf. But what of them? If Roan had stuck to tradition, then he’d have been waiting the rest of his life for Sam to overcome his shyness and try to entreat Roan by sinking to his knees before him. And besides, had Sam not shown him so much more devotion through his paintings? Through his attentions and his study?

Roan observed Sam’s hand move across the page, watching as his mate created his image on the sheet with nothing more than a pencil. Sam captured his eyes, his hair, his throat, his nose, his cheeks. Captured how he must look from Sam’s eye with the canopy above his head, light filtering through the branches and leaves. Apparently, there was a bird perched on one of the branches, head twisted so that its eye was fixed upon them.

“I love you,” Roan murmured as he admired. Sam’s pencil jerked. His mouth screwed up, twisting, twitching up at the corners. His pale skin blossomed red. Roan touched his fingers to the coloured cheeks, feeling the warming skin with his fingertips. “I love you dearly,” Roan added, seeing that the verbal confirmation was a good thing to offer. And he knew even in this, it would be so incredibly foolish to follow the old ways – to deny the affection lest you lose your status as dominant. How silly.

“I feel the same,” Sam said.

Roan purred. “I know. I can see.” His gaze flicked to the drawing. His depiction of Roan as he saw him: always perfect, shining. If a stranger were to pick up Sam’s sketchbook, they would think Roan the centre of the universe. “Though it feels nice to hear you say it as well.”

“Should we get going?” Sam asked, shyly flipping the cover of the sketchbook closed. He reddened further, the blush spreading over his shoulders and down his arms. His bare chest coloured, and Roan followed the spread with his eyes and his hand. He fondled Sam’s pink nipple, stroking, then pinching lightly as his mate’s cheek indented, no doubt as he fussed the inner cheek between his teeth. A habit of Sam’s when he was trying to mask his emotions.

Roan teased, eyeing his mate’s filling shorts. He enjoyed the sound of Sam’s heavy exhale as his eyelashes fluttered.

“Roan,” Sam murmured. He tilted his head, lips finding the shaft of Roan’s cock where it had emerged from his tail.

Roan hummed, pleased, though he wished for more than just his mate’s mouth today. He had restrained himself from mounting Sam for weeks, even when his mate sweetly invited him each night in bed, and eventually slid his way down Roan’s tail to take him into his mouth or pushed his thighs together and guided Roan’s cock between them and brought him to completion that way.

“Does your head ache still?” Roan checked as he travelled his palm down Sam’s chest, fingers sliding beneath his shorts, where he took hold of his perky cock.

“Mhm.” Sam’s eyes were already shut, his full attention on where his mouth was sucking against the base of Roan’s cock. Heat prickled through him as he enjoyed the warmth of Sam’s mouth against his shaft, the wetness of his tongue against his balls. Precum beaded from his slit and slid down his shaft, where it made contact with Sam’s cheek. There wasn’t a single time where they’d been intimate that his body didn’t overproduce, always ready to mount Sam.

Sam’s mouth slid its way to the top of his shaft, and in his teasing manner, he swallowed Roan down. Roan’s spine tightened, his gills flaring out as he breathed in hard. His mate going down on him gave him the best view of those curls he loved so much, and he couldn’t resist sinking his fingers in. Perhaps the last generation had been on to something after all; Roan was content to watch Sam as he bobbed his head, growing bolder and braver as he swallowed him with enthusiasm.

Roan’s tail fin disturbed the water as he splashed it, filled with sudden impatience. He gripped Sam’s hair harder for a second and released. Sam pulled off Roan’s cock and opened his eyes, casting him a half-lidded, questioning look.

“Yes?”

“I will mount you,” Roan said.

Sam’s eyes brightened. “Really?” he asked eagerly. He lifted onto his knees, already looking at their surroundings. His eyes settled on the blankets Roan had stashed here for his comfort. Before Sam rose to fetch them, Roan cupped his shoulder and drew him toward the water. It was a deep pool and crystal clear, fed by a waterfall on one end and falling in another on the opposite side.

Roan slid into the water and Sam followed, removing his underwear before joining him. He drew Sam into his arms, feeling free now that his tail was weightless in the water, and kissed his mate deeply. Sam groaned as he clutched the back of Roan’s neck, fingers digging into his nape. They itched, Roan knew, to sink into his hair. Sam adored his hair in the same way Roan loved his. Perhaps that was why Sam enjoyed it so much when Roan pleasured him with his mouth.

Roan sunk below the water, tracing a path down his mate’s body. For his comfort, though Roan knew he was in no danger, he swished his tail so that Sam could grip the edge of the pool with a hand. His sounds were slightly muted, but Roan had sensitive hearing, and what he might have missed was translated through Sam’s body. As he swallowed Sam into his mouth, his hips bucked into him, and Roan cupped the globes of his ass to encourage the movement and let him know it was okay to seek his own pleasure.

“That feels amazing , ” Sam groaned.

Eager for more, Roan slid a finger inside himself for lube and then massaged between the globes of Sam’s ass with his slicked fingers. He started with one finger, and Sam reached down, trying to push him along to two immediately. Roan didn’t allow it. But Sam persisted until Roan released his cock and lifted above the waterline. Sam wouldn’t hear him if he spoke from below.

“I am preparing you,” Roan said with all the patience he could muster. His cock was hard and eager, and any delay was irksome.

Sam’s pupils were blown wide, his lips soft and wet and swollen from either kissing Roan’s mouth or his cock. “You’re taking too long,” Sam complained, a desperate note in his voice.

Roan tugged Sam away from the wall, realising the leverage was giving him the freedom to interfere. “It will be much faster if you stop getting in my way,” he pointed out. And to prove it, he slid two fingers into Sam.

Sam’s breath caught, and he curled forward, forehead grinding into Roan’s temple as he groaned. “I don’t need this much prep,” he insisted.

Roan thrust his fingers in, taking his time to stretch him out. Sam’s cock was twitching between their stomachs. “You are very tight to please me, so I will take care not to hurt you.”

“You’re being too careful!” Sam objected. “It was only because that was my first time that I wanted that much prep. Please get inside of me. You’re going to make me come with just your fingers otherwise.”

That halted Roan. “This was not enough to bring you to climax last time. You said my sounds were bringing you to the edge; I am not making any sounds.”

Sam flattened his hand to Roan’s chest, his fingers vibrating with Roan’s skin. “You’re purring.”

“I can stop—”

“No!” Sam barked. He jerked his head away from Roan. “Don’t stop, I love that sound so much.”

Roan hummed his compliance. It would have been difficult to stop wilfully anyway; not while they were so close together. He could dip below the water and hide it, though, if he needed. But if Sam liked to hear it, Roan was happy to let him.

Roan slipped the third and fourth finger in together, watching Sam’s face for any hint of pain. His breaths stopped, his lashes fluttering as his body tensed. Roan leaned in to nuzzle his cheek. “You are doing excellently,” he praised. “Despite your impatience.”

Sam’s breath returned as he released a shaky laugh. “Thanks.”

Roan was at the cusp of losing the last of his patience when he decided that Sam was as ready as he could be. He considered his options, but his body had already begun to move Sam. Twisting him around so that his back was flat to Roan’s front and he could mouth his claim on pale white skin. Roan lined up at Sam’s entrance, and he gripped his hips to pull Sam onto his cock. Sam’s breath punched out of him. His hand flailed in the water, so Roan quickly moved them forward so he could find purchase on the rocks.

He waited. And he should have perhaps waited longer, but his body was burning with need and his hips thrust before he’d made the conscious decision to start. His Sam was just so perfect, so tight around him, hugging his cock and sucking him greedily in.

Roan thrust in earnest, using power so the water did not splash in his mate’s face. Sam groaned, fingers turning white as he gripped the shelf. Roan clutched Sam’s hips for leverage, holding him still as he mounted him, thrusting with intent. Sam’s spine arched, a beautiful curve that Roan admired with a hum. The long prep had Sam on the cusp, and Roan knew he had to act quickly to encourage Sam’s orgasm to last longer. It disappointed him that he did not bring his mate the same level of pleasure he brought him, but he would not give up in his efforts until he rectified that.

Sam cried out suddenly.

Roan, mid-thrust, knocked Sam’s hand aside and pumped his cock himself, continuing his thrusts as he did. Sam convulsed in his arms, bending forward as his fingers dug into stone and dirt, desperate for some sort of purchase. And even as Sam’s cock had released all it could, he still twitched. Realisation struck Roan; his mate was finding greater, longer pleasure while being mounted. The delight in the discovery roared through his body, and he stiffened all over, burying his face into Sam’s hair as pleasure coursed through him and he spilled his seed deep inside his mate.

To his immense delight, even when his orgasm faded, Sam was still recovering from his own, panting and shaking.

Roan vibrated with the discovery. He slid out of Sam and peppered kisses down his spine until he’d reached his ass. He kissed there too, his delight too profound to contain. “I did not realise you needed to be mounted to find longer pleasure. I apologise.” Roan cleaned him, careful and thorough. “I will bring you lasting pleasure now that I know how,” he promised.

Roan rose again so his head was above water. Sam cast him a crooked smile. “Thanks for cleaning me,” he said.

“Of course.”

“Did you say something under there?” Sam asked.

Roan hugged him. “I am happy that your pleasure lasted for longer,” he said.

Sam blinked at him, a look of surprise on his face, until it sank away to a smile again. “You definitely found a good spot there.” He chuckled. “Can you help me out of the pool? I don’t think my legs feel like working right now.”

Roan nodded. He would do anything for his perfect mate.