Page 18 of Corin and the Courtier
“No!” Corin said harshly, and hung his head down between those massive shoulders, his back heaving like a bellows.
Aster blinked up at him, mouth still open, words dying in his throat.
When Corin looked up again Aster’s remaining breath caught.
He’d never seen Corin like this. His features had sharpened, somehow, maybe an effect of the scales now visibly creeping up his neck and wreathing his face, his ears—shrinking, maybe? Dragons didn’t have ears like humans, Aster knew.
“Fuck you?” Corin snarled, and his teeth had changed too, sharpening and lengthening into something more like fangs. Aster should’ve been terrified, probably. Had Belinda ever seen Corin like this? If she had, then Aster wasn’t surprised she’d called him a monster. He’d have appeared like one to her, for certain. Aster’s heart pounded, his cock trying to bore a hole through his trousers. “I’d fucking destroy you, Aster. You don’t want me to fuck you, because I wouldn’t stop. I’d fuck you unconscious. And I still wouldn’t stop. You’d wake to find me still inside you, wrapped around you, my hand around your throat, and you wouldn’t even be able to scream.”
Corin leaned down, and on his breath Aster caught a hint of flame, of smoke, something rich and drugging like incense. He tipped his head back instinctively, showing his throat. For Corin’s hand to fit around, or for his mouth, his teeth. Dragons really could mesmerize their prey. Maybe he’d write a memoir so scandalous it’d make everyone forget the garden party and the duel…if he survived.
But he still wasn’t afraid, because this was Corin, the most gallant and honorable knight living.
Aster heard himself saying as much, slowly, as if he really had been drugged. But his heart raced faster and faster, pulsing in his cock, in his bollocks, behind them. The two times he’d been fucked before he hadn’t seen what the fuss was about.
Now he thought he could feel every atom of the skin of his hole individually, tight and hot and eager.
“You really believe that about me?” Corin asked, some of the wildness fading out of his eyes. “That I’m too gallant to hurt you. Too honorable to take advantage of you?”
“Of course you are. There’s no one in the world I trust more than you. Because you’re trustworthy. Why else would I come here, of all the places in the world?”
“Oh,” Corin said, a soft, almost hurt sound. As if Aster had struck him rather than complimented him. Of course, he hadn’t really meant to admit that, had he? That he’d sought Corin out because if he wouldn’t protect Aster, no one would. Because Aster had no one. Even though he knew Corin hated Belinda, and their family by extension, when he’d been fleeing his home in a panic only one man had come to mind.
Because he’d intended to try to take advantage of Corin, in short.
Oh, God. He was the worst person in the world.
His eyes prickled with tears again. Oh, for fuck’s sake, he’d ruin everything…
“Don’t, don’t cry, fuck,” Corin said, sounding desperate—and not in the hopelessly aroused kind of way. “Look at me.”
No human could’ve resisted that command. Aster stopped, gasped, and met Corin’s gaze, pinned as thoroughly by that as by the hands still wrapped around his wrists.
“I’m not going to take advantage of you. I’m not going to do any of those things. Do you believe me?”
“Yes. Because you don’t really want to any more than Marellus does.” Aside from everything else that might make Corin not want him, no one—sane, anyway—wanted to fuck someone who couldn’t stop laughing and crying by turns. Even Aster knew that much about human, or human-adjacent, sexuality.
Corin laughed, a low bitten-off rumble. “Oh, yes I do,” he said. “Fuck Marellus. Fucking moron. You’re right that I wouldn’t really hurt you, though. I’d take my time. I don’t know how long it’d take me to get inside you, to make it fit. But I’d take all the time I needed.”
“Uh,” Aster said, no real words forming in his mind, which had gone blank except for a vivid image of Corin kneeling between his legs and slowly, ever so slowly, forcing his unnaturally large cock into Aster’s body. All his blood had rushed away from his brain and into his own cock, apparently. It throbbed and stirred, begging for a touch. For the first time since Corin had pinned him down, he squirmed and struggled, trying to get his arms free.
Corin’s fingers flexed around his wrists, casually, as if Aster’s strongest efforts were barely noticeable. Aster squeezed his eyes shut. He wouldn’t. Hewouldn’t, fully dressed and with Corin not even kissing him or anything at all…
“You’d probably tell me you couldn’t take it,” Corin went on, and he’d bent down to murmur right into Aster’s ear, and Aster started to pant, little whining moans coming out with every breath. “But you’d be lying. I’d ignore you, even when you begged me not to break you in two. Or perhaps you’d beg me to do it after all.”
Aster’s whole body trembled, his spine arching and his bollocks drawing up painfully tight.
Apparently he would.
“Oh,” he moaned. “Oh, please. Corin!”
Release hit in a wave of relief and humiliation, followed by pleasure so intense and pure it washed the rest of it away.
“Fuck,” Corin breathed. “Are you…? Fucking hell, you are.”
Aster managed to crack his eyes open. Everything had gone all blurry. That was fine. Tremors raced through every limb. He shifted his legs and the slight movement of fabric against his oversensitive cock set him off again into a new spasm that left him squirming and whimpering.
When he blinked the world back into focus he found Corin leaning down, mouth open, eyes wide. Awestruck, perhaps? Not disgusted, anyway, or contemptuous, as Aster had mostly expected.
