Page 18 of Honeythorn
Milan reached up, framing Raphael’s face with his hands, before pulling him down for a kiss that was as deep and wet and desperate as that expression.
“Milan,” Raphael whispered as they pulled apart, their foreheads resting together.
For the first time since arriving, Milan felt at home.
When Raphael finally entered him, the large width stretching him fully, it was as if all his other senses disappeared. There was only his body, and Raphael’s, and the way they joined together. Milan clutched at him as Raphael curved over him, a shelter of breath and muscle. No object, not even in the peak of his heat, had ever felt so good inside Milan.
“Good?” Raphael asked, and Milan almost laughed.
“More.”
Before Raphael could comply, Milan started moving, the tide of an ancient instinct washing over him as his body undulated, barely catching his breath at the feeling of Raphael’s cock sliding in and out of him.
“Milan,” Raphael choked out, but he seemed to agree completely with Milan’s intention. He sat back, taking the furnace of his body only far enough to grip under Milan’s thighs to open him further.
It was then that Milan seemed to lose his mind.This is fucking, was his last thought as Raphael starting thrusting—slowly at first, and then harder, faster, as Milan writhed under him. He tried meeting Raphael’s rhythm and barely held on, letting sensation take his mind.
Milan knew Raphael wouldn’t knot him outside of his heat, and yet there was something just as potent building between them. The mix of their scents had Milan shaking. He opened his eyes to see Raphael just as affected. His eyes were taking Milan in as if he were the last thing he would see before death, his mouth open in supplication, skin covered in sweat and a bright flush. The candlelight flowed across his body as it moved, and Milan had one moment to remember the stories of visions that appear from fire or moonlight to guide lost souls to the beyond.
Milan did not know how they both knew the moment that the bond was ready to be completed. It went beyond the physical: it was a calling of the spirit by the earth and the body, and Milan didn’t even think not to listen.
His whole body arched, and then Raphael was on him, crushing and holding him, and the burst of pain from the teeth sinking suddenly into his neck was hot and piercing a moment before it was euphoria. A wash of light, of hope, of binding. Milan turned his head and bit Raphael back, tasting blood and sweat and then not being able to think at all as orgasm ransacked his body as well as his soul. A force at the core of him pulled, lighting up with something that shone beyond both of them.
At that moment, he could feel Raphael. His body coming inside Milan, the obliterating pleasure, the deep connection of the bond.
It was as if a circle had finally been completed. For better or worse, they were now joined in a bond.
Milan hadn’t a clue how long it took his body to calm down and return to earth, but he let go of Raphael’s neck as he did, lapping at the wound that was already closing up, as bond bites did. It was Raphael jerking away suddenly, however, that woke him fully.
Milan winced slightly as Raphael’s cock slid out of him, and he looked up with bleary eyes to see Raphael’s widen in pure astonishment. He held a hand to the side of his neck where Milan’s mouth had just been.
“You…you bit me,” Raphael whispered raggedly.
Milan frowned in confusion. “Yes, of course. As you did…for the bond,” he said slowly. Perhaps the ritual had taken more out of Raphael than was expected.
“That is not the custom here,” Raphael said.
“You mean for the Omega to bite the Alpha?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I assumed it would be the same as in my country. It promotes equality between bonded pairs.…Did I hurt you badly?” Milan asked, leaning up on his elbows. It was true that Raphael did not have a scar from his previous bond, but those tended to diminish after a separation, so Milan hadn’t thought much of it.
“No. You just…you surprised me.”
Milan went to lean up further, unconvinced, but Raphael slid out of the bed.
“I will get something to clean us up,” he said. Milan watched him go to the other side of the room before slumping on the bed.
Delicate Alpha sensibilities. They were difficult to navigate at the best of times.
It was not the time to worry about that, however. Milan’s body was deliciously sore and sated. Of course, he had suspected sex would be fun, but what had just transpired between him and Raphael had been more. Milan was sure of it.
He let himself doze in the warmth of the bed, his fingers tracing lightly at the bond mark that had already scarred over. The bond was nascent—it would take time and care to grow it to its full potential, but it was already terrifying and exhilarating to feel the warmth of it inside him, so full of possibility.
“Milan,” he heard from above him in a tone that suggested that it was not the first time his name had been called. He turned over and smiled sleepily at Raphael, in soft breeches and with a cloth in his hand.
“Oh. Thank you.” Milan took the damp cloth and hesitated a moment before cleaning his stomach and between his legs. It was strange to do so with Raphael standing there, so serious, but they had just been much more intimate. Milan chided himself for blushing at the thought.
