Page 50 of Garden of Poisoned Delights

“Laurent,” Sabre moaned, panting. “Please. Please.”

The sound of Sabre begging was always arousing, and this time was no exception, cock hardening even if all Laurent had done thus far was watch. “Oh, listen to you—begging me not to show off what a cock slut my husband is, or begging me to show you off?”

Sabre gave him a desperate look and said, “Whatever you want.”

“Then I don’t know why I’m hearing my first name,” Laurent said, voice sharp, and smiled when Sabre outright moaned just from the press of his dominance and nothing else. “Try again, little whore.”

“My lord, please show me off, fuck me, let them all use me, just please, please.”

Sabre even saying that about the council meant he was well and truly under, hurt enough that this evening was clearly a success, and Laurent was pleased, both with how wrecked Sabre looked and how he’d organized this to get him exactly where they both wanted him to be.

“Oh, I think I can manage that, but how about I fuck you and we leave the council out of it, hmm?”

Normally, Sabre would look up and smile or make some weak joke, but all he did was moan and nod his head, over and over, like Laurent might think he’d changed his mind if he stopped.

Laurent was not planning on stopping. He kept on his gloves, because he knew Sabre liked the cool leather on his heated skin, and the smack against his bruises filled the room along with the soft little gasps that were all Sabre seemed capable of making at this point. He didn’t linger, Sabre was hurt enough, and he was too turned on himself to deny his own pleasure for much longer.

He slicked his cock with the nearby oil, although he really didn’t need it—Sabre was slick and open, and Laurent entered him easily, sinking to the hilt and throwing his head back with a groan as Sabre’s body took his cock. It felt so good that he could barely think, might have been hard-pressed to remember his own name as he started fucking Sabre hard right away. It took some time to realize he was speaking, a combination of his native language and their shared tongue, but it was all the same sentiment—you’re so good for me, you take my cock so well, love, you look beautiful when you’re under.

Sabre was past the point of words, all heated sounds and twitching, shaking muscles, but when Laurent put a hand on his cock and closed his fingers around the ring, Sabre moaned loudly and bucked against Laurent so hard that Laurent almost lost his balance and overcompensated by half-falling on Sabre’s back, laughing against Sabre’s sweat-slick shoulder. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they, pet?”

Sabre nodded, or did something close enough that Laurent took pity and slid the ring off his cock. As soon as he did, Sabre came all over his hand, and while sometimes Laurent would punish him for not asking, he didn’t think Sabre could in this state. Laurent bit him on the back of the neck, high up above the leather of his collar, and was pleased to see his instructions had been followed, no one bites Sabre there but me. Sabre’s skin was flushed but unmarked, at least until Laurent sank his teeth in as he came hard, fucking Sabre into the stocks as he found his own release.

When Laurent managed to catch his breath, he felt the buzzing, elated sensation of dom-space filling him, making his entire body feel alive and all his nerves light up at once. Given the long night and all the work that had gone into planning it, and how he’d just ended it, he knew he’d fall into an exhausted sleep immediately, but the gentle buzzing sensation was helpful for getting himself cleaned up and dressed. He took Sabre from the stocks, rubbing his wrists and wrapping him in a thick, fleece-lined robe. It wasn’t too cold, but he knew after what Sabre just experienced this evening, his body would appreciate it.

“Smells like you,” Sabre murmured drowsily, smiling at Laurent with a soft, blurry gaze as he turned his face into the wide collar of the robe.

It smelled like Laurent because of the detergent and the faint scent of lavender, both of which would make Sabre think home and Laurent. Laurent said nothing, just kissed him lightly and then allowed Sabre to crawl after him to their rooms. He brought Sabre into the bathing room, and together they sat in the bath, Sabre drifting and Laurent playing with his hair, quiet and content.

“Mmm. Thank you.” Sabre shifted and studied Laurent through the steam, his eyes clear and bright, a smile spreading wide over his handsome face. “You have no idea how badly I needed that.”

“I have some idea,” Laurent said, and drew him in for a kiss. “Was Lord Alder all right, then? I know you don’t hate him like some of the others.”

“I don’t hate–” Sabre stopped at the look Laurent gave him and laughed sheepishly. “Fine, some of them are odious, but he’s fine. Isiodore would find it funny that he was trying to get that bridge allocation passed while fucking me.”

“Did he?” Laurent asked. “Only curious.”

“I don’t know,” Sabre said, shrugging easily, moving through the water to straddle Laurent on the bench. “I was in favor of it. It’s Izzy who’s being a git about it.”

“A git, is he?”

Sabre gave him a playful scowl and tugged a lock of Laurent’s damp, silvery-blond hair. “Yes, yes, I know it’s a terribly posh word, I am a noble.”

“Very noble,” Laurent agreed. “That is absolutely the word I’d use to describe you tonight, fucked mindless and begging in the stocks upstairs in a whorehouse.”

Sabre flashed a grin at him, and Laurent’s heart squeezed in his chest with happiness and the satisfied feeling of knowing he’d taken care of his submissive and his particular needs. “Wanna know what the word is that I’d use?”

“I think I already do.” Laurent kissed him again, and Sabre shifted in his lap, arms around his neck, and his cock was growing hard again, he really was insatiable. “But go ahead and tell me anyway.”

“Perfect,” Sabre said, against his mouth. “It was perfect.”

Laurent supposed he couldn’t ask for better than that.

Seasons of the Lukoi

@natendo_art

CHAPTER 9

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