by J B Black
Idris stripped his belt, peeling his armor from his body as he approached the throne. Black obsidian stretched to the ceiling. Smooth as glass, it shimmered in the hall, refracting the light from the fires which burned alongside, chasing the cold of winter away. Pale and smooth - Fannar’s skin seemed like pure cream - soft and begging to be tasted.
“I’m moving this throne to our main palace,” the fae king growled, tangling his fingers in his lover’s raven hair as he kissed him breathless.
Meeting his passion in full, Fannar pulled his husband’s bare body against his. “Bedroom may be better.”
“True. With you enthroned like this, I’d get nothing done,” Idris agreed, and kissing his way down his love’s stomach, he knelt before the obsidian throne. His hands slid over the jut of Fannar’s hip, groping his ass as he pulled the warlock forward to swallow his cock to the hilt in one go.
“Ahh!” Fannar cried, knotting his fingers in the king’s golden hair. “Bastard, you can’t just - fuck, yes-yes-yes, gods, you’re too good at this.”
His long fingers dipped back, tracing the edge of the slick rim of his consort’s hole. Two slipped inside, stretching, but when Fannar squeezed around him, melting into the black stone, Idris pressed a third in alongside.
Idris moaned, bobbing up and down as he sucked his husband’s cock. Each soft whimper and gasping groan went straight to his thick manhood which hung heavy between his thighs. He curled his fingers, hiding the most sensitive places within his mate, rubbing and caressing until Fannar came with a sharp cry. Swallowing his lover’s spend, Idris shifted his fingers, sliding off the warlock’s softening cock.
Fannar slumped on the throne. A flush brightened his eyes, turning the soft gray into the crisp wintery blue which the fae adored. His dark lashes fluttered against his sharp cheekbones. When his pink tongue darted out to lick his lips, Idris reared up, cupping his face to kiss him.
“Beautiful,” Idris murmured.
Fannar’s hands clung to him, pulling him up as long legs wrapped about him. “Switch with me. I want to ride you.”
Chuckling, Idris lifted the warlock, holding him close as he turned to sit down in the throne. “Well?” the king said, groping the firm muscles of his husband’s ass.
“No patience.” Fannar clucked his tongue. Inch by inch, he slid down Idris’s cock. His own twitched, hardening once more as he arched back. He balanced with his hands upon the fae’s knees. “Ahh-nnn, fuck, how am I not used to this by now?”
Idris lifted his hips and wrapped his hands around his love’s waist, bringing him down fully upon his cock. “Maybe we should do it more.”
“You could fuck me every hour of every day for a week, and you’d still be a challenge to take,” the warlock retorted, but his eyes sparkled with pride as he set his hand on his belly, arching as his palm rubbed at the slight bulge Idris’s cock made.
“As much as I believe I could come from the sight of you sitting on my cock, I’d much rather watch you make yourself come again,” Idris informed him.
Fannar shifted, setting his hands upon Idris’s shoulders as he rose half-way before he sunk down once more. He started slowly. The lean, long lines of his body enthralled the fae king, and each ripple of tension went straight to his cock. Thoroughly encased in the tight clench of his lover’s body, his eyes trailed over Fannar’s body. From the dusky pink of his pebbled nipples to the satisfied fire in his pale eyes, Fannar proved an irresistible vision.
“I love you,” Idris groaned, dragging the warlock in for a heated kiss.
Their tongues entwined, and clenching around Idris’s thick cock, Fannar moaned into the wet heat of his lover’s mouth. Their bodies moved as one. Rising and falling as the warlock rocked his hips down, grinding as his cock rubbed between them, drooling against Idris’s skin. Fingers toyed with golden curls. The soft pull at his hair only made him hungrier, desperate for the sweet sucor of Fannar’s lips.
“Love you,” Fannar whimpered. His wintry blue eyes melted as he blushed, turning his cheeks that beautiful shade of pink. “Love you, my mate.”
He had to know the way those words took root in Idris’s heart. How desperately he flushed with heat whenever Fannar claimed him and marked himself that way. After so long chasing, to finally have his fated mate in his arms nearly brought him to weep with joy and relief.
“How was I ever afraid of you?” Fannar whispered, laughing softly as he licked the tears from his cheeks.
Wrapping his arms possessively around the other man’s pale thin waist, Idris buried his face in the warlock’s shoulder. “I love you - love you almost too much for my heart to bear.”
Fannar clenched, undulating around the cock within him as they held fast to one another, and when Idris came - spilling inside the warlock’s warm heat, their magic flared. Like the northern lights, it filled the room, shimmering greens and blues which grew brighter and brighter until Fannar followed him over the edge.
Chapter Fourteen
Secure in their power over the whole of Faerie, Fannar and Idris returned upon Ronan’s invitation to a small celebration for their son’s third birthday. The brown-haired warlock’s belly hung heavy, but though the domestic scene suited the other, Fannar struggled to not feel overwhelmed at the three-year-old who immediately clung to him, babbling about everything and anything.
“How do I detach him?” Fannar asked as Leo happily bounced on the couch beside him, cuddling up against him as he messily ate the slice of cake Ciar gave him.
Ronan laughed, resting a hand on his round stomach. “I’ve honestly never seen him take this quickly to anyone. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“That’s...unhelpful,” Fanar sighed.
Glancing over to where Ciar and Idris awkwardly chatted, Ronan smiled. “All of this is just...it’s so much more than I ever expected.” Clearing his throat, he patted Fannar on the knee. “But then again, it must be so much more startling for you! How are you? Are you happy?”
With a slight inclination of his head, the black-haired warlock admitted, “I am.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Setting his empty plate aside, Leo climbed halfway onto Fannar’s lap, laying to face his stomach. “Mine!” he proclaimed softly as if caught in confused amazement, slapping one hand forward against the warlock’s flat stomach.
Ronan’s brows rose. “Is there something I don’t know?”
Fannar swallowed. “I haven’t told Idris yet.” Ruffling the three-year-old’s dark hair, Fannar met Ronan’s curious gaze. “Idris always said he could name a lord or some other as his heir, but...I started to think maybe that wouldn’t be necessary.”
“But you didn’t…”
“It’s the first time since I was a child my magic moved subconsciously. One night, I realized I wouldn’t mind carrying our child, and within a week…” Fannar gestured at his stomach where Leo happily pressed his little hand. “...there they were.”
Nodding, Ronan pushed - as only he could, “But you want the child?”
“I really do.”
Smiling brightly, the brown-haired warlock sniffled. “Damn hormones. I’m so happy, I’m going to cry.”
“Hmm...I think we need to address the fact that your child has apparently decided my twins belong to him,” Fannar replied.
Leo shook his head. “Not that one. Just this one.”
“Fantastic - so one child is sorted. Idris will be happy,” Fannar drawled, and Ronan shook his head, laughing.
“Leo, darling, your little brother is kicking. Come and cuddle with mummy,” the brown-haired warlock called, and the child leapt up, almost smacking Fannar in the face as he dashed over to try to feel his younger sibling. “See, Fannar? No need to panic.”
Though he hadn’t wanted to admit it, his heart raced at the thought of his children being fated to anyone. He wished they could have their own destiny, but fae bred true, and both of his children - by their birthright as Idris’s sons - would have fated mates. Even know
ing that one of them was likely the son of his dearest and only friend did nothing to ease the whispering fears which questioned if they would be terrorized by destiny.
Fannar sighed, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves. “I have no intention of pressuring my children into accepting the hand felt dealt them. My own experiences do not guarantee their happiness.”
“What will be, will be.” Ronan ran his fingers through his son’s dark hair, smiling as the little boy giggled at his sibling’s kicks. “Anyway, that’s a long way down the line. Have you decided how you’re going to tell him?” When he gave only a noncommittal shrug, Ronan leaned forward, resting a hand upon Fannar’s knee. “It’s okay to celebrate this if you want to celebrate it. If you’re nervous, that’s fine too. Don’t punish yourself for wanting something now that you thought you never would.”
“It’s not that,” Fannar dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not the biggest fan of the process, but I want these children. I love Idris. I love the twins already too. It’s just...why is it so important to make some parade of telling him?
Ronan laughed. “You don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Ciar knew almost the moment I did both times, so I never got the chance. It’d be nice to see his face, you know?”
“I suppose.”
After binding themselves to each other, Idris and Fannar had no true secrets, but they respected each other’s privacy. Likely, Idris already knew something was off. If it were the other way around, Fannar would have already pushed, but Idris approached Fannar with such gentleness and respect. Though the warlock feared any secrets from the fae formed the beginnings of a trap, Idris worried that if he pushed too much, Fannar would run.
To some degree, Fannar expected Leo would simply blurt out the secret, but after the one incident, the three-year-old joyfully entertained himself by swinging on his father and chasing after butterflies. Idris played along. His bright eyes glimmered as he spun, laughing brightly, but his gaze spoke of longing.
Once, the fae king had had a family. He had parents who adored him, and the belief that he would one day have his own children to love. For all that Idris loved Fannar more - enough to give up that dream, Fannar wanted his husband to have the world. Ached to experience it for himself as well. Longed to build the family which he had never had for himself. One of unconditional love.
After saying their goodbyes, Idris and Fannar returned to their palace. Faerie’s light glow was such a change from the late afternoon sun, but all was well. Multicolored light cascaded through the windows. An entire castle held enough room for several dozen children, let alone the two with which he newly found himself pregnant.
While Fannar’s father left the harem and the nursery in the far end of his keep, Idris’s family had the nursery directly beside the king’s quarters. Another divide between the view of mate and family they each grew up knowing.
Ruffling the warlock’s hair, Idris pressed a kiss to Fannar’s cheek. “I think I’m growing on Ciar.”
“That’s good. It seems like Leo might be the fated mate of one of our twins,” Fannar informed him, undoing the clasp of his cloak to place it on their bed.
Idris froze. “Our twins?”
Turning to face him, Fannar laid a hand against his still flat stomach. “I suppose I should expect to show faster than Ronan did with Leo, but it’s still early days.”
Slowly - as if afraid he could scare Fannar away, Idris approached. His violet eyes shimmered in emotion. “We’re going to - you’re...you’re pregnant?” When the warlock nodded, the fae cheered. Wrapping his arms around his husband, he lifted him into the and spun. “We’re having a baby!”
“Two babies,” Fannar corrected.
With a gasp, Idris set him down. “Two. Oh, Fannar, this is...we’re having twins.”
“I suspect every fae in court will be envious of your virility,” the warlock teased.
Cradling Fannar’s face in his hand, Idris smiled. “And you’re happy? You’re happy with this?”
“They wouldn’t exist if I didn’t want them to,” Fannar reminded him. Leaning into his husband’s touch, the warlock sighed. “I didn’t expect two, but...I want a family with you, and I want to do it this way.”
Idris kissed him gently. A soft press of lips as his joy and excitement thrummed through their bond. His emotions nearly overwhelmed the black-haired warlock, and he wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulders, drawing him closer as his heart skipped a beat. Even hearing the news he had undoubtedly believed he could only dream of, Idris measured his reaction in consideration to him.
“I love you,” Fannar murmured into the fae’s lips.
Lifting his mate into his arms, Idris whispered, “I love you too.”
Chapter Fifteen
To say Fannar showed earlier than Ronan minimized the gravity of the difference between them. For all that he was shorter, the brown-haired warlock had more muscle to him, so when the curve of his belly came seemingly overnight, Fannar wasn’t surprised. It started off almost endearing. A little curve for Idris to fawn over. When it became more pronounced, Fannar enjoyed accentuating it to lure his husband to bed and even - at times - win arguments.
However, only in his seventh month, Fannar waddled with his belly gravid and heavy on his front. His chest ached. Milk engorged the tissue, and his nipples ached from how much attention Idris paid to them. Of course, the fae would have abstained, but whenever his husband thrust inside him, the warlock begged to have his chest played with over and over again.
Dressed entirely in his usual black, Fannar drummed his fingers against the table. Negotiations required patience. Idris - in his baby happy state - folded far too quickly to whatever ridiculous requests were made, so the warlock controlled the meetings while Idris pleased himself by doting upon his pregnant mate.
Which led them to now. Watching his pregnant mate glower down at the ambassadors with his wintry gaze, Idris shifted in his seat. His cock ached. He’d been hard almost an hour going, and the longer he waited, the more he could see his thrumming arousal affecting his pregnant mate. A slight flush colored the warlock’s features. His eyes which had been as hard as steel turned fiery.
“No,” Fannar repeated. His chin tilted up as he leveled a haughty stare at the druidic representative. “We have no need for your assistance. Our harvests outproduce yours. I know more about natural magic than your entire group. Why would we ever allow you to move freely through our realm?”
“Kalikerry is a complete wasteland. Allowing us to settle there -”
With a wave of his hand, Fannar stole the man’s voice, leaving him opening and closing his mouth like a stunner fish. “Kalikerry is a wasteland on purpose. My husband burned and salted that land for a reason. If you can’t fathom the significance of that ruination, your understanding of our people is so pathetic that I see no reason to continue this farce of a negotiation.”
His magic threw open the door, and the guards stepped inside though they had little need. Fannar terrified the foreign dignitaries well enough on his own.
“But-but your majesty, we…” wisely the man trailed off at the fearsome glare level his way.
Sitting back in his chair, Fannar lovingly caressed the fertile curve of his belly. It was such a dissonance - his gentle touch to their children versus the icy cold stare leveled on the druids before him. “Get out.”
Like rats, the men scurried away. The doors slammed behind them, and Fannar sighed, shaking his head. Idris stood, fetching a cup of tea, but when he set it down beside his mate’s hand, those wintry blue eyes focused on him, and pale fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“A more decent husband would be ashamed,” Fannar teased with a slight smile as he glanced down at Idris’s erection.
The fae shrugged. “You knew who I was when you married me.”
“And you knew me,” Fannar agreed, shoving the king back into his chair.
He stood with grace though the shifting of his hips underlined the weight
of the twins, but where he might have shoved down his trousers before, he magicked them away - as well as Idris’s own, before sinking down onto Idris’s cock in a single go.
With a soft sigh, the king’s mate clenched his slick hole around the throbbing manhood. “I’ve been thinking about this all bloody day.”
“You were beautiful. I love watching you - all flushed pink and pretty as you made those idiots cower,” Idris moaned with each slow rise and fall of his mate’s body, sliding up and down his cock as he chased his own pleasure. Wrapping his hands around Fannar, he caressed the gravid curve. “It’s been a while since you had anyone talk back to you.”
Fannar chuckled, rocking back. “You say that as if it weren’t your doing.”
“I may have participated, but you’re the one carrying twins. Two at once - they’re all hungry for you,” Idris groaned. His hips pumped up, grinding into the tight heat of his mate’s body.
Fannar keened. Pinching his own nipples, he panted - lips pink, begging to be kissed. Idris leaned back, shifting his hip to drive deeper as Fannar melted, trusting his mate to take the weight of his pregnant body.
Licking his lips, Fannar guided one of Idris’s hands from his belly to his aching cock. The fae wrapped his fingers around the heated length, gliding his hand up and down as he rutted, rocking his hips as Fannar ground down against his hips.
“I can’t wait until you let down. Your sweet chest leaking as I fuck you,” Idris growled.
A sharp cry broke free from the black-haired man’s lips. His fingers twisted the dusky rose buds, massaging the swollen tissue as he shifted forward and back between Idris’s hand and cock.
Up and down, Fannar bounced. “Deeper,” he commanded. His bright eyes met Idris’s violet - both dark with lust as they moved together, letting the ecstasy build between them. “Ah-ah! Fuck, so good! I’m so close - so close…”