“You don’t have to hurry with me.” Once more, Remy’s hand found Marlow’s cheek, always seeking to frame his face somehow.
With Remy’s thumb hooked around Marlow’s jawline, hips moving glacially, too slow to do more than torture them both, Marlow pressed a hand to the center of Remy’s chest and felt the steady beat of his heart.
“Thank you,” he said, not meaning to sound so cheesy, but he didn’t regret the words when they left him.
Remy stilled, like he’d never been thanked for sex before—which he probably hadn’t. Marlow doubted that was usually part of sexual banter, but he meant it. It wouldn’t have been like this with anyone else.
While they rocked, Remy pulled Marlow closer, letting their foreheads press together as he trailed the hand on Marlow’s face down, down, all the way, and gripped Marlow tight.
“Feel how wet you are, Marlow?”
“Uh huh.”
“Feel how wet you make me?” He grasped Marlow’s wrist and pulled his hand down, too.
Marlow tentatively curled his fingers around Remy when he felt him. “Wow,” he said like before. The tip was soaked, and he stroked Remy, shivering when Remy did the same to him.
“You sure you want this?”
Marlow nodded emphatically.
“Ever stretch yourself?”
“Y-yes. With my fingers. Never toys.”
“This,” Remy bucked into Marlow’s hand, “is not a toy. But you still hold all the control. At any time, if you want to slow down, speed up, go deeper, just say it.”
“O-okay.”
Remy pulled his hand away and stilled Marlow’s hand on him. Their breaths came harshly, both wet and riled and shaky with heightened sensation. Remy reached back to the nightstand and plucked up the lube and condom. “Now for the hard question: Who wears this?”
“I get to choose?” Marlow sputtered.
“Preferably, you get a say in every part of this, no matter who you’re with, but especially that. So, tell me.” He pulled Marlow closer again. “What do you want?”
Every synapse still capable of firing went off at once, destroying any sense of coherence Marlow had left. “I, uhhh, I don’t know. I always thought I’d want to be the one to…b-but with you, I…I kind of want to try it the other way around?” He blushed at the stunned look that crossed Remy’s face. “Is that okay?”
“Because it’s me,” Remy said softly, his amazement turning to amusement quickly. Marlow didn’t think his pleased surprise had anything to do with positioning though, just that Marlow trusted him this much, which maybe he shouldn’t, not with everything, but he did. He really did. “Do you have some ideas in mind? How you want this to go?”
Marlow had thought about that a lot when he was envisioning some stranger, figured that then, no matter how things played out, he wouldn’t be able to look the other person in the eyes.
But with Remy…
“On my back so I can see you,” he said, and laughed nervously when Remy immediately rolled them so Marlow was sprawled out. “I-I don’t really know. I mean, I know, obviously, but…”
“Relax, your highness. I got you,” Remy said, crawling seductively between Marlow’s legs. “You tell me what you like, what you don’t, what you want,” he spread his knees apart and kissed the inside of Marlow’s thighs, “and I’ll oblige every whim, every wish you ask of me.”
It wasn’t wholly selfless, Remy got something out of this as well, but it still moved Marlow how patient he was being, how eager he was to make it good for Marlow, too.
“Kiss me,” Marlow said.
Remy surged up impressively fast, sealing Marlow’s mouth with his lips and twirling his tongue in deep.
Finally, he thought, as their bodies writhed together. Finally, this was happening. He didn’t feel like anything was going to spiral out of control. He didn’t fear rejection. He didn’t even spare a thought for the rogue Mage or the loss of his magic; his mind was all on Remy, between his legs and in his arms.
Remy’s fingertips trailed down Marlow’s body as he slid his way back between Marlow’s legs. He paused to coat his fingers with the lube—Marlow had never even experienced real lube before, only the slickness of his magic. “Tell me how you’ve done this before.”
“Uhh, usually just a tease along the skin at first?” Marlow opened his legs to accommodate, and felt the smooth, slick slide of the pads of Remy’s fingers brush down beneath his cock and lower to his puckered entrance, where he rubbed in gentle circles. “Y-yeah. That’s good. And then, I-I’d…”
His breath caught as Remy read his thoughts, breaching the entrance with the tip of a finger, curling and pressing—
“Wait.”
Remy pulled out, eyes serious and vigilant.
“Slower,” Marlow said.
Remy grinned. This time, when he pressed inside, it was at an agonizing pace that made Marlow moan, and then swell louder with every fraction of an inch Remy’s finger sunk inside.
“Yes.” He rocked his hips to pull Remy in deeper. “Like that, please.”
“Shit, Marlow. Have you any idea what you look like? What you sound like?” Remy’s face was flushed, breaths coming out short. He pulled out slowly, then in again, then out and in again, and soon, just as teasingly, added a second finger.
This was how Marlow teased himself, always trying to make it last longer, make himself quiver before he came, but with Remy’s hands, it was so much more than anything he’d ever experienced alone or with magic thrumming through him.
“A bit…left?”
Remy followed his every direction.
“A-and…deeper.”
And every time his commands were heard, he melted. It made him feel so powerful. So at ease. So in control. He’d never felt that with anyone else. Maybe that was why he’d never made it this far before.
By the time Remy’s two long fingers were scissoring as deep inside of him as he’d ever touched himself, he was a mess of nods and panting breaths.
“Please…please…” he whined. He could barely raise his hands to reach for Remy, he was so on edge and wound up like a livewire.
Remy kissed his thighs again, and then grabbed the condom. Marlow trembled and shook, but not because he was afraid.
“Whatever you want, at any moment, just say it,” Remy said, and Marlow nodded, rocking back to grip beneath his knees.
He didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him with as much want as Remy did now.
The first press inside was worlds different from any finger. It felt impossible for a moment, but Marlow was stretched enough, wet enough, that soon the lip of Remy’s head breached the first inch and, “Fuck.”
“Okay?”
“Mmhm.” Marlow nodded, eyes clenched tight. “Don’t stop.” He forced his eyes to open and looked up, really looked at Remy as he pressed in deeper, flushed and panting himself, yet somehow so controlled even while he looked like he wanted to lose himself in how good Marlow felt beneath him.
There was no slyness on his face as he stared with hooded eyes back at Marlow, only raw emotion.
The last inch caught Marlow by surprise with how much Remy dragged along his prostate and filled in all his edges. Marlow bucked up against him to feel how deep he was. When Remy began to move, Marlow arched his neck and pressed back into the pillow.
“You like that?”
“Yes,” Marlow keened; the combination of Remy’s voice and hands and cock made his head spin. “Faster.”
Remy didn’t hesitate to comply, and Marlow’s eyes closed at the tingling of nerves as he was filled.
“Marlow.” Remy’s voice suddenly held a hint of trepidation, forcing Marlow’s eyes open. Remy was staring at him in awe. “You’re sparking.”
Marlow’s head snapped up to look and he was. Jolts of magical energy like starlight were jumping around his body. “It’s working!” He laughed, and then caught Remy’s wide gaze. “I should probably tell you.”
Remy raised an eyebrow
as if to say, now you have something to tell me?
“It’s nothing bad! Just when I get close to coming, I—ah!” A ripple of vibrations tore through Marlow, and they both moaned. “Wh-when I come, all the elements are with me.”
The way Remy looked at him after that was as if he wanted to devour Marlow whole.
Remy picked up the pace, so easy now, the deep slide within Marlow a symbiotic rhythm. Marlow worried the sparks of magic might feel too strange to him—water making Marlow wetter, fire warming them, earth quaking them, wind filling the room with pleasant scents, shadow blocking out every other sound, and light tingling through them with raw power—but Remy’s speed merely quickened with each passing moment as their crescendo built and built, and Marlow hooked his ankles behind Remy’s back so he could buck up against Remy harder.
“More!”
Remy never let him down, met him beat for beat, and when Remy finally paused, when he stopped and tensed and clenched his eyes closed as his mouth dropped open and his body shook, Marlow felt so good for having brought Remy to that moment, he felt an answer build in him, too.
As Remy rode out his aftershocks, Marlow tightened around him and flailed to find Remy’s hand amidst the jumping sparks of energy, moving it insistently to stroke him just once, twice—The room erupted in a shock of blinding light when Marlow came, filling the space with his magic, and then fizzling out with a smell of ozone. Marlow’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird—he was back, whole again, he could feel it, and it was almost as amazing as what Remy had just shared with him.
Remy collapsed against Marlow as the room dimmed, and they sagged boneless where they lay atop the mattress.
“Impressive light show,” Remy huffed.
Marlow giggled, maybe a little delirious, but oh, that had been worth it, and would have been even if he hadn’t gotten his magic back. “Are you okay?” he asked, still worried the sparks might have been too much, since Remy didn’t have much natural protection against magic.
“Are you?”
“I am fucking amazing.” Marlow smiled, and Remy huffed warm breath against his chest.
It seemed too great a feat to move at first, but Remy soon rolled away, snatched up his or maybe Marlow’s shirt—it didn’t matter—and wiped them clean before tossing the article back to the floor. He lay beside Marlow, and Marlow reflexively wrapped his arms around Remy to hold him close.
Coming down from that high was so different from attending to himself solo. Marlow knew it wasn’t always that intense, with magic or otherwise, but as far as first times went, they must have broken some sort of record.
The high did have to come down eventually, leaving only their breathing, the quiet, and Marlow’s bustling thoughts.
“Um, how come you never asked why?”
“Hm?” Remy mirrored his exhaustion. “Figured it was a delicate subject.”
“It wasn’t because I was some hopeless nerd. I mean, I was. But mostly a loner, I guess? But there were girls. Guys. And then really bad luck. Like, one time, it was happening, actually happening, clothes off, seconds from my first blowjob, and someone actually set my dorm on fire.”
Remy lifted his head to gawk at Marlow.
“Other interruptions were less extreme.”
Remy laughed, and Marlow laughed with him, because it really was absurd.
“Mostly though? There wasn’t time once I set myself on law enforcement. Plus, before that, in school, bullies kind of made me keep my head down, so half the time I didn’t even notice when someone was into me.
“The silver hair? Didn’t go over well as a teenager. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever…” Marlow trailed off before he could say anything too self-effacing. “Anyway, there were options, things just kept happening. Years passed, and it got ridiculous after a while, so I stopped trying. And it sucked, because, as a Storm Mage, I am horny, like, all the time.”
Remy snorted.
“Hey! That hard-on last night was humiliating enough.”
“I’m not laughing,” Remy said, even though his snort had sure sounded like a laugh. “Not complaining.”
Marlow snickered, because yes, sex accomplished, virginity and rogue Mage thoroughly defeated, and yet somehow he was hard again.
Or maybe he’d never fully dwindled.
But the point was…he was hard. And surging with power. And not out of breath anymore. Besides, it wasn’t that late yet, or as if he had any lines on finding the rogue Mage to bring her to justice.
He shifted so he was propped on his side to better face Remy. Glancing down the whole gorgeous form of the man lying beside him, he appreciated every scar, tattoo, and chiseled attribute.
“Can I, umm…” Marlow gathered his nerves to say this before he looked Remy in the eyes. “Can I fuck you back?”
Remy smirked, and then blinked at Marlow like he must be insane. “Now?”
Marlow couldn’t help that his sex drive was impossible!
Eventually, however, Remy said, “I think we can arrange something.”
“And, umm…”
“Yes?”
“Do you have that kilt?”
* * * *
The next morning, they discovered a note stuck to Remy’s fridge.
Next time don’t be so embarrassed to ask for what you want. You’re welcome.
Beneath the neatly scrawled script was a stamp like a family crest—depicting an elegant sword impaling a dragon.
Remy looked nauseated, but before Marlow could apologize for the rogue Mage having tracked them, he asked, “You said she stole a book?”
“Yeah. Why? It had that same crest. I’ve seen it somewhere, I think. She said the book was stolen from her family first, and—”
“You really need to brush up on your history.” Remy crumpled the note and threw it in the garbage.
“Hey! That’s evidence—”
“We’re not tracking her. If the book had that crest, then it belonged to Morgan le Fay—and you just met her many times great-granddaughter.”
Marlow stared at the paper in the trash. He knew there were some truths to the legends, but…
Fuck. Oops.
“Good thing I only mildly pissed her off, huh? Seems she honestly tried to do me a favor. I owe her.” He turned to Remy and wrapped his arms around him, letting the truth of his encounter roll right off his back, since he’d come out the other side of this better off. “Are you going to go easy on me the next time we spar?”
“And why would I do that?” Remy smiled, holding Marlow back.
“Because you like me.”
“I always liked you, your highness.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that. Guess I’ll have to up my game.”
“I did increase our sparring gap, 500 to 503.”
“501 to 503. We both won last night.” Marlow kissed Remy, and if they didn’t have to get to the station, he would have dragged Remy back upstairs.
Instead, he borrowed clothes, and they headed into work together.
Marlow might have forgotten about Hannigan until he went to her office.
“In my defense,” he raised his hands, “I did break the curse, and everything is totally back to normal.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut, eyeing him a long while before she asked, “Are those Remy’s clothes?”
Marlow looked down at himself. His usually grey wardrobe had taken a darker turn. “Um…”
“Hey.” Remy stuck his head in her office. “We got a case—partner.”
Hannigan’s mouth dropped open.
Mage Officers didn’t have partners, but Marlow had a feeling his day-to-day was about to change. “I’ll explain later,” he said, inching toward Remy at the door. “I swear.”
When he finally did tell her everything, he considered leaving out the part about having been a virgin, but decided, nah.
It was nothing to be ashamed of.
THE END
ABOUT AMANDA MEU
WISSEN
Amanda Meuwissen is a bisexual, happily married, and self-proclaimed geek. Primarily an M/M romance author with a focus on urban fantasy, she has a Bachelor of Arts in a personally designed Creative Writing major from St. Olaf College and is an avid consumer of fiction through film, prose, and video games.
Amanda lives in Minneapolis, MN, with her husband, John, and their cat, Helga. She writes across genres, with a preference for contemporary gay romance and the paranormal, and is frequently accused of humour.
For more information, visit amandameuwissen.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
The Immaculate Marlow King Page 4
