Page 33 of The Cordial Bride

“Never with you.”

His husband crawled onto the bed, still gripping the pot, and nudged Calan’s legs apart with his knee. Calan didn’t need to be told what to do. He bent his knees, holding his legs open by clasping the underneath of his thighs. When Ian slipped two coated fingers into his hole, Calan clenched around them and moaned loudly. Ian thrust a few times and twisted his fingers around to loosen the puckered ring. Then he scraped across Calan’s prostate, making him moan and thrash. He mewled in disappointment when his husband pulled his fingers out. That was only a moment of disappointment, of course, because Ian came back immediately with something larger and more satisfying. As his man filled Calan’s ass with one long slide, Calan’s first orgasm ripped through him.

He came with a wildness that forced his eyelids to slam down, and he dug his fingertips into the flesh of his own thighs. The bite of pain only added to the intensity of the climax, as did the burn of being breached so quickly. He liked it this way. It made him feel marked and confirmed his husband’s mastery over him. He wanted more—of everything.

Letting go of his thighs, he held out his hands. “Come here. Kiss me.”

Ian wasted no time, bracing himself over Calan and claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. He fucked Calan’s mouth as he fucked his ass, with long, fast strokes. Calan gripped his husband’s shoulders, and wrapping his legs around the man’s hips, bounced his heels against his ass to urge him to greater speed. Ian heeded the demand, rolling his hips to slap his pelvis against Calan’s backside, driving his dick deeper inside. With a roar, he came, his cum flooding Calan and causing him to orgasm again. And still the man fucked him, his cock pressing against Calan’s swollen channel. He vaguely thought Ian would slow down, but he was wrong. His husband only stopped thrusting into him after they both climaxed once again.

When it was over, Calan dropped both his arms and legs, wrung dry and limp. Ian collapsed on top of him, his heavy weight pressing Calan into the mattress. He loved the feeling of his husband covering him, even if it was a little hard to breathe. Always attuned to Calan’s needs, Ian rolled off him and gathered him in his arms.

“Thank you, darling. I quite needed that.”

Calan laughed. “The master of understatement—and why do you always act as if I’m doing you a favor when we have sex?”

“Make love,” Ian gently corrected. “And because you are still a marvel to me, dear wife. I can scarcely believe that you are mine.” He paused for a few seconds. “I love you.”

As he had the other times his husband had said those words, Calan started to dismiss them as merely a reassurance his husband thought he needed to give. But he didn’t say anything out loud. Not immediately. He gave himself permission to sit with the declaration and consider that Ian meant it, that he truly loved him. “I want you to…love me, that is.” After everything that had happened, he found the courage to make himself vulnerable. If he didn’t trust his husband with his feelings, what chance did they have for a happy marriage?

Ian leaned away and lifted Calan’s head up a gently tug of his hair. “Good. Because I do—love you, Calan. I’m not merely saying what I think you want to hear. I mean it and have each time I’ve said it. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

Calan opened his mouth, then shut it again with a frown. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve always had a vision of a powerful man like you not succumbing to the fragility of loving someone.”

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Falling in love takes courage, my dear, and strength. Giving your heart to someone is not a sign of weakness. And when the person whom you love is as amazing and generous and loving as you are?” He shrugged. “How could I not fall in love with you?”

Well, when you put it that way. Calan smiled. “I guess I’ve been afraid. I guess it’s hard for me to appreciate my appeal. I’m nothing special.”

Ian smacked his butt lightly. “Never say that again!”

Startled by the admonishment, Calan stared at his husband with wide eyes. “Okay.”

Ian gathered him close again. “Darling, you are driving me to distraction. I love you, and if I have to spend the rest of our lives convincing you of that fact and that you are worthy of any man’s love, I shall do so. Never underestimate me.”

“I won’t,” Calan assured him, his face mashed against the man’s hard chest. “I love you, too.”

“Naturally. Now,” he added rolling Calan onto his stomach, “let me kiss your poor ass where I hit it.”

“You don’t… Oh.” His husband didn’t end with a simple kiss. He started with one, then licked his way down to lap at Calan’s balls.

The man had a wicked tongue on him. He knew just how to employ it to raise Calan’s passion once more. He squeaked with surprise when Ian used his large hands to part the globes of Calan’s ass. He blew against the puckered ring, sending a delightful tingle up Calan’s spine. But it was the use of that tongue again that drove Calan wild. It should have been embarrassing to have his husband lick his hole. Such an intimate act. The gentle lapping caused him to relax and open up so that he was more than ready for Ian’s cock as he slid it in.

This fucking was long and slow. With two orgasms under his belt, Ian was in no hurry. The man was a marvel to be hard again so soon. Calan allowed himself to just lie there and enjoy the steady rocking of Ian’s hips against his ass. His hard yet sensitive dick was rubbing against the sheet. It was almost too much. Almost. He came again with a sigh and saying Ian’s name in a whisper. Then he fell blissfully asleep as his husband continued to fuck him.

* * * *

Calan stood in his empty workshop and took one last look around. It was hard to believe he was really leaving. The house was empty, ready for its new owners to move their own things in. The newly married couple had been overjoyed at his gifting of it to them. He didn’t need the money. Being the Countess of Charteris meant he had a pile of it all to himself—or so Isabeau had assured him and that was even so not counting the revenue he’d receive from the sale of the cordial. Besides, he liked the idea of a new family starting out here and making it into a happy place. It had never been that for him. He could admit that sad fact now that his aunt was gone, and he was heading to a better life.

Ian stepped into the doorway. “The wagons are all packed, darling. You’ve managed to fill both of them to the brim.”

Calan scraped his teeth over his top lip. “Did I keep too much?”

“Of course not.” His husband came over and hugged him. “I’m only teasing. I’d gladly buy a hundred more wagons if there were more you want to bring.”

Calan rolled his eyes as he held him close. “No, thank you. I have everything I need and want, mostly because it’s standing in front of me,” he added pulling away. “I didn’t expect to take much more than the clothes on my back when I agreed to marry you. Thank you for giving me the extra time to sort all of this out.”

“Calan, I will give you whatever is in my power to. I love you.”

“And I love you.” Since the night of the funeral, they’d taken to saying those words to each other every day at least once. It had become a kind of game to see who thought of declaring their love first.

---