Page 25 of The Second Marriage

Taral untied his belt. His robes fell open, baring the full brown length of his body, his cock plump and half hard and his thighs gleaming with slick. Sejun’s mouth filled with saliva. He cast his letter aside and shuffled over on his knees, drawn in by how ripe Taral smelled, how ready to take Sejun’s knot. Taral stood without moving, his hands at his sides, and Sejun didn’t stop until he was kneeling at Taral’s feet with his hands on Taral’s hips beneath his robes.

Taral touched him them, a single hand in Sejun’s hair. “My husband,” he said.

Sejun kissed the base of his cock, breathing him in. “If you aren’t pregnant by the end of this heat, it won’t be from lack of effort on my part.”

“You enjoy the thought of it, don’t you,” Taral said, voice low.

Sejun had thought of nothing else since the sight of Gurratan’s round belly first put the idea in his head. Filling Taral, claiming him, watching him swell with their child—yes, he enjoyed the thought. Instead of answering, he wrapped his hand around Taral’s shaft and took Taral into his mouth.

Taral was far less polite than he had been the first time Sejun performed this act. He gripped Sejun’s hair and held him in place as he pushed into Sejun’s mouth, cautiously at first and then, when Sejun didn’t protest, with increasingly vigorous rolls of his hips so that Sejun’s eyes watered. Sejun hadn’t thought Taral would ever be so rough with him, but he had no objections at all. He let his jaw hang open for Taral to take what he wanted, thrusting into Sejun’s throat as Sejun drooled helplessly, a messy, spit-soaked fuck that had Sejun’s cock throbbing between his legs, trapped in the folds of his robe.

“Oh,” Taral said, after not long at all, and groaned as he flooded Sejun’s mouth with the sharp flavor of his come.

Sejun waited for him to go soft before he pulled off and wiped his mouth and chin on his sleeve. Taral stared down at him, his pupils wide and dark, his fingers still deep in Sejun’s hair. He touched his other hand to Sejun’s mouth, which felt stretched and tender.

“Forgive me,” Taral said quietly.

Sejun kissed his fingers. “I enjoyed it immensely,” he said, hearing how raw his own voice was. He fumbled to part the panels of his robe and show Taral the proof of his arousal. “You can use me so whenever you like.”

“I’m not usually so,” Taral said, then ran his fingers over Sejun’s lower lip instead of finishing his sentence.

“It’s your heat, I’m sure.” Sejun grinned. “I have no complaints.”

Taral’s fingertips pulled Sejun’s lip down and stroked the sensitive inside. “Then take me to bed and put me to good use.”

Sejun could think of nothing better.

Taral shrugged his robes from his shoulders as he went into the room and left them pooled on the floor. When he climbed onto the bed, he went onto all fours with his chest down against the mattress and his back arched to raise his hips high, showing Sejun everything. Sejun found the position more arousing than he could account for, and he tore off his own robe and knelt behind Taral and pulled him backward, rubbing his cock along the cleft of Taral’s ass and then through the slick mess between his thighs, grinding hard against Taral’s sac and his cock, hard again now.

Taral shifted on the bedding, drawing his arms beneath him and clasping his hands together at his chin. He slid his knees wider. The dip of his back took on a curve so severe that Sejun spared a brief prayer for the integrity of his spine.

“Sejun,” Taral muttered into his clasped hands.

If he spoke Sejun’s name as an admonition, he should have made that clear. Sejun continued on with what he was doing. The base of his cock was swollen and sensitive, and it felt good to rut against Taral over and over, to hold him in place and take pleasure from him. The bond roiled with Taral’s desire and impatience, and some wicked part of Sejun wanted to torment him, to make him feel gratitude for what Sejun could give him. But he did draw back at last to rub his fingers over Taral’s swollen hole and tease a single fingertip inside.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” Sejun asked, even as Taral groaned and pushed back to take him in to the knuckle.

“What do you think,” Taral bit out.

“Let’s see.” Sejun added a second finger and fucked Taral with them in lazy strokes, in and out with Taral stretched around him and making soft, hitching gasps into the blankets. “Look at how wet you are. That sweet pink hole of yours. You need my cock in you, don’t you.”

The sound Taral made was barely human. When Sejun pushed his fingers in again, Taral went tight around him and came, his mouth crushed against the blankets to muffle his moans.

Sejun pressed inside while Taral was still quivering. Taral’s body gripped at Sejun’s cock with his tremors, and Sejun thrust into the hot, slick clench of his hole and felt his own orgasm cresting, tension gathering in his hips. He hadn’t meant for it to happen so soon, but Taral wanted it—he could feel how much Taral wanted his knot—and Sejun could never seem to resist giving him what he wanted for very long. His knot bloomed, locking him inside Taral’s body, and waves of pleasure wracked him as he filled Taral with his spend.

“Well,” Taral said after a minute, and Sejun laughed and bore him down into the sheets, lying on top of him and kissing his shoulders and the side of his face until Taral’s cheek lifted, finally, with his smile.

“Young and eager,” Taral said.

Sejun gave him another kiss, straining to reach the corner of his smiling mouth. “I did warn you.”

They shifted onto their sides with careful movements to prevent any uncomfortable tugging of Sejun’s knot. The room was warm from the afternoon sun spilling through the open balcony door. Sejun drowsed with Taral in his arms, sweat-damp and sated for now, until his knot softened and finally slipped out. Then he reached down to press his fingers into Taral’s hole, sliding them in through his own come, working it back inside. He would be very happy to have a baby. Someone for him to love, who would want him to love them.

“Sejun,” Taral sighed, reaching back to touch his fingertips to the nape of Sejun’s neck. Sejun kissed his shoulder, ready to begin again.

* * *

This heat was verydifferent from the last. Taral wasn’t miserable, for one thing. He talked with Sejun in the quiet moments instead of staring out the window in silence, and smiled at him as they ate together. He seemed satisfied with Sejun’s ministrations, and in general the sense Sejun got from him was of calm contentment. They passed three peaceful, sweat-soaked days together, and Sejun let himself hope Taral was opening to him, finally, that this time he wouldn’t pull away again, that they could have a real marriage.