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“Ah-ah! No moving, pet,” Astarion said, wagging a finger as Tav struggled briefly against his bonds.
“What are you doing?” Tav asked, eyes growing wide when Astarion opened the small case he’d purchased after their recent visit to Sharess’ Caress.
“You know, I was thinking,” Astarion said, drawing out a thin steel rod. “Watching you talk to those drow twins. I might not feel up to sex right now, but when that drow talked about tying you up—and I could sense your blood rushing to your cheeks, my love, don’t try to deny it—well. I thought this might be fun. For you. For me. Possibly not so much for those twins and their profits.”
“Are you jealous?” Tav asked, a little breathless and really quite lovely in the way he peered up at Astarion, dusky gray limbs splayed out on their bed. “I was just curious. It’s rare to meet another drow in a city—”
“Jealous? Me? Of those twins? Oh please,” Astarion said and waved his hand dismissively.
It came out a little too loudly, perhaps, so to distract Tav, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave him a loving stroke.
The pretty drow was already hard. Had been since Astarion had first wound a rope around a slender wrist, which meant that Mamzell Amira had indeed been correct in reading his desires. Not that that was difficult.
“Anyway. I saw this, and it made me think of you.” Astarion rubbed the pad of his thumb over the sensitive head of Tav’s cock.
The foreskin had pulled back, exposing the crown already glistening with wetness. As Astarion watched, another bead of fluid welled up from the small slit. Tav whimpered and writhed in his bonds quite becomingly, biting his bottom lip as he looked up at Astarion as if he knew exactly what a pretty sight he made.
“What are you going to do to me?” Tav asked breathlessly.
If he was trying to sound fearful, for once the bard wasn’t doing a good job playing his role, but then Astarion could hardly blame him for being distracted.
“I merely wanted to test a new toy I bought. I figured you wouldn’t mind assisting me?”
“Better me than Gale,” Tav said, and then abruptly fell silent when Astarion teasingly twirled the rounded end of the steel rod through the bead of fluid at the tip of his cock.
“That’s better,” Astarion said smugly, watching Tav’s violet eyes dilate as he realized just what Astarion had planned. “Because I really don’t want you thinking of Gale right now. Now hold still, love.”
Slowly, exerting just the slightest amount of pressure, he pressed the rod against the slit. Tav was shivering, his cock leaking more fluid as if to invite him in. When Astarion added a little more pressure, the tiny hole opened up for him like a small, hungry mouth, swallowing the inch of steel he allowed to slide inside.
“Oh, gods above and below,” Tav whimpered.
Astarion could see the muscles of his stomach convulse. His cock was still achingly hard, his wrists twitching against the bonds as if to test that they would truly hold him.
“You like that?” Astarion murmured. “Your cock seems to like it. And such a pretty cock it is.”
He pulled the rod out a little, then let it glide back inside, fascinated by the grip the tight hole had on the steel, the sweet, slow slide of it.
Tav arched, his body shaking, his lips parting as he struggled to breathe. Perspiration was beading on his stomach, and when Astarion tentatively let go of the steel rod, gravity alone was enough to let the rod slide further down until only an inch of it remained visible.
Tears were making the drow’s eyes shine as he trembled all over, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Oh gods,” he gasped again. “Astarion...”
Smiling, Astarion stretched himself out alongside his love’s body. “What does it feel like? Tell me.”
“I can’t—” Tav moaned. “Oh gods, it’s too much, I—please—”
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Astarion said conversationally, trailing the fingers of one hand over Tav’s sweat-slick chest. “I certainly am.”
This time, when he wrapped his hand around Tav’s cock and stroked him, Tav whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I can feel it inside me,” he gasped. “Astarion...”
“Gods, you’re lovely,” Astarion sighed and leaned over Tav to kiss him gently. “And all mine. Inside and out. Isn’t that true?”
Astarion tightened his fingers just a little, and Tav whimpered again, throwing his head back, hair sticking to his forehead. Astarion could feel the rod inside him—could feel it shifting and moving inside Tav as he stroked his cock.
“Oh, this is quite a lot of fun,” he said, watching as Tav arched again. “I could watch you whimper and squirm all day.”
All Tav managed was a single sound of protest before another moan broke free, and Astarion grinned.
This time, he kept his fingers wrapped around Tav’s cock, squeezing lightly as he grabbed hold of the rod and twisted it. Tav’s moan turned back into an overwhelmed whimper, and Astarion couldn’t blame him—he could feel himself twisting the rod through Tav’s cock, could feel the hard, unyielding steel, Tav’s arousal squeezed between his fingers and the rod.
He pulled it out very slowly. Fluid welled up with it, enough that it began dripping down Tav’s cock, and Astarion made a chiding sound.
“So messy,” he said. “Look how hungry you are for it.”
The small slit gaped open, glistening, inviting, vulnerable. The sight of cruel steel pressed against it was enough to take Astarion’s breath away.
He slid the tip of the rod inside just for the pleasure of seeing the small hole spread open for him, gently twisting the rod as if to see whether it could stretch wider.
“Beautiful,” he sighed—then released his hold on the rod.
Tav sobbed with pleasure as it slid all the way down into him once more, the steel filling him relentlessly. More fluid leaked up around the rod, glistened as it dripped down the swollen glans. Astarion reached out and touched a spill with a fingertip, then tasted it as Tav watched.
“You’re delicious,” he said. “Oh, I could do this all day, but I suppose you do deserve a reward. You’ve worked very hard to get us this far.”
It took only a few strokes. The rod shifted inside Tav’s cock as Astarion stroked him until Tav arched in his bonds again, his entire body tensing as his release washed over him. Some of his seed came dripping down his cock, spilling out from around the rod, and when Astarion drew out the steel with a sudden flourish, Tav whimpered his name, the small, spread hole releasing a second splash of his release.
Then Tav slumped back onto the bed, wet with sweat, gleaming in the light of the lamps, nearly senseless with pleasure, and lovelier than he had any right to be.
Astarion put the rod aside and gently worked open the bonds that held his wrists.
“That was fun,” he said. “It sounded like you enjoyed yourself as well. You were certainly loud enough Withers might scold you again tomorrow.”
“Gods, that was...” Tav sighed.
His eyes opened, looking at him so lovingly that Astarion didn’t know what to do with himself, or with the sudden warmth welling up inside his chest.
“What about you? Want me to do something for you?” Tav asked, his voice still soft and breathless. He rubbed his wrists as he sat up, and there was nothing studied about the soft smile he gave Astarion, the heavy-lidded eyes, the languorous elegance of his limbs.
It shouldn’t affect Astarion. He’d seen it all before. A hundred times. A thousand times, in the two hundred years as Cazador’s slave.
But no one had ever looked at him like that. As if he was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Astarion swallowed heavily, then shook his head, although he was hard as well. In time, he thought, he’d want to fuck Tav again. Soon. Once he figured out who he was, now that he was no longer Cazador’s pet. Now that he no longer had to do anyone’s bidding.
He did want Tav. More than anything. He just had to figure out what that meant, now that he was himself.
Until then...
“Come here, love,” he said, and Tav gave him that soft, overwhelming smile that made warmth fill his chest where there had been two centuries of coldness.
Even wet with sweat and sticky with his release, Tav was a picture of effortless grace as he moved to straddle Astarion’s lap, still smiling as he wrapped his arms around his neck.
Tav tilted his head to the side, willingly baring his neck to Astarion as he rested his forehead against his shoulder. Astarion breathed in the scent of Tav’s sweat, of his desire, the heat of his blood that was still racing through his veins with the aftershocks of pleasure.
Astarion nuzzled against his pulse, traced the throbbing vein with the tip of his tongue, and Tav only sighed, melting against him contentedly as Astarion scraped one fang against tender skin, not yet biting down.
One day soon, he’d enjoy fucking him again, he thought, his eyes on the small case on the nightstand—and the selection of rods, slowly increasing in width.
But for now, this was turning out to be quite a lot of fun.