Title: The Man With The Dragon Tattoo – Chapter Thirty-Seven.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Note: This chapter is mostly unnecessary porn and much-needed stress relief for our stressed boys, though there be some feels mixed in. Contains magical bondage, but less of a BDSM sense and more of I-wanna-fuck-you-against-this-tree-but-I-want-you-looking-at-me way.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Master And Servant
Two nights had passed since Leon had trekked into the forest to meet them and they still remained at the entrance to the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Merlin had spent the first night sleeping beside Arthur for the first time in days, curled up within the protective span of his lover's arms, head resting against the crook of Arthur's elbow as the man held him close. The following morning he had been coaxed awake by dry lips trailing kisses along the column of his neck and a warm hand caressing his thigh through his jeans.
At first his sleepy brain thought they were back in Arthur's bed and he had reacted favourably, arching back against the arousal pressed against his arse. A soft moan had escaped him as his lover's hand dragged upwards, palm hot against his abdomen before those strong fingers undid his jeans and began teasing their way beneath the waistband of his jeans, his boxer shorts. He had been flushed and aching with need within moments, hips rolling slowly and deliberately, and Arthur's lips had quickly found the lobe of his ear, surrounding it in wet heat as he sucked and nibbled upon it like it was something delicious.
Everything was fine as Arthur stroked him, gentle but confident, listening to the soft sound of pleasure that had escaped him. Grinding slowly against Merlin's arse, the man had steadily reached towards his own release. The sorcerer's hand had slipped backwards, gripping his lover's thigh with quiet desperation, encouraging him. They were both close, so achingly close to reaching their mutual release, when Merlin released a cry of both pain and pleasure as Arthur bit him, not hard enough to break the skin, but harder than he had expected.
His cry had startled some birds out of their trees, and their frightened exclamations startled the sorcerer so badly that his magic reacted aggressively. Arthur had nearly collided with a tree a few feet away. An aroused flush had stained royal cheeks and a shiver had raced through the former King in response to the magic as he lay momentarily winded upon the forest floor, and in spite of his physical reaction the man remained mortified and infuriated. Merlin's embarrassed and heartfelt apologies had fallen upon deaf ears.
The second night had been spent on opposite sides of the campfire, the pair of them glancing at each other repeatedly and growing increasingly frustrated when both refused to say a single word. But that morning Merlin woke to the sound of rapid breathing and a broken gasp. He continued to pretend he was asleep, wondering for a moment if his lover was upset, but a strangled moan blew that notion out of the water. Head still half-buried in his arm, the sorcerer glanced over at the opposite side of the glowing remains of their campfire.
Doing so revealed Arthur's clothes, soaked from being rinsed in the nearby river, hanging from a tree branch. His lover leaned against the tree, one powerful leg raised as he braced his foot against a nearby rock – the remains of the statues of ancient Kings. Blond hair sat thick and wet and messy against Arthur's scalp, and royal eyelashes fluttered repeatedly against his cheeks as the man shivered and moaned. One hand lazily stroked the former King's thick and glistening cock, and the other...
Merlin swallowed thickly, his mouth impossibly dry as he discreetly watched Arthur fuck himself with spit-slicked fingers. Abdomen tightening with arousal and disbelief, he squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like an invasion of privacy, watching his lover masturbate while the pair of them were still fighting. Even listening to him felt wrong, so wrong, but he could not stop. A low moan dragged its way out of Arthur's chest, a sound comprised of ecstasy and longing. The slick sound of masturbation flooded him with want.
The sound grew louder and quicker and the man's gasps and moans grew more frequent, and all of it tortured the sorcerer's affection-starved body and mind.
Blue eyes flicked open once more, focusing again upon Arthur. Strong limbs trembled, muscles pulling taut as the man's pleasure mounted. A blond head fell back against the tree trunk, stretching that golden neck deliciously and invitingly. In that moment it was like a dam within him had broken open. Within seconds Merlin was on his feet, staring at his lover with blatant hunger. Royal eyelids flicked open as though the man could sense the heat of Merlin's gaze. Arthur froze, his chiselled cheeks stained with red as his chest heaved from the pleasurable exertion.
Surprise and embarrassment quickly gave way to need as that royal gaze turned heavy-lidded, flashing him the bedroom eyes. The hint of a challenge curled Arthur's arrogant mouth as those strong hands continued what they were doing. Teasing him. Merlin took a single step and was instantaneously on the opposite side of the campfire, expression hot and possessive. His magic flared as he growled low in his throat, "Mine." Golden bands of magic snared his wrists. Arthur did not once fight it as the magic pulled his hands away, desire washing over his arrogant face.
The sorcerer dropped to his knees, pale hands gripping sturdy hips and pinning them down. Eyes flooded with gold stared up at Arthur expectantly, daring him to disagree. But the man surprised him by ignoring the unsaid challenge. "Yes," the former King agreed hoarsely, blond head nodding with dizzying eagerness. Merlin blinked. The days spent fighting and emotionally apart must have taken as much of a toll on the prat as it did him. "God, yes. I'm yours." Arthur shuddered and sighed as those last two words became a breathy chant, relaxing back against the tree as he continued to stare down at Merlin with his bedroom eyes.
Satisfaction flooded him, hot and heavy, and he leaned in.
A loud moan tore up from Arthur's throat, cutting through the man's continued assurance that he was Merlin's. Hungry lips mouthed at the base of his cock, eager and faintly wet as a shaky breath escaped him. Dark eyelashes fluttered closed as Merlin appreciated that moan, the sound of it reverberating down his spine and pooling in his groin. Strong hands gripped his head fervently as words of encouragement fell from royal lips. Merlin licked his way from base to tip, delighting in the tremble of his lover's limbs, and swirled his tongue around the needy head.
When he wrapped his lips around Arthur's cock, and began working his way down his length with the enthusiasm of a staving man, the former King was lost. Coherent thought went out the window as he sucked his lover's cock, one hand slipping away from his hip to cradle the man's balls, kneading them gently before slipping his fingers beyond. "Yes," the man gasped, hips twitching with the urge to just fuck his throat raw as Merlin's fingers caressed his perineum, that nerve-rich zone that could have Arthur begging to be fucked in moments. "Yes."
His lover's grip tightened, tugging hard on his roots. Merlin groaned around his mouthful and Arthur arched away from the tree, a cry forcing its way past his arrogant mouth. Strong hips snapped forward once, twice, and the sorcerer knew he was about to come. Magic flared violently, gripping the base of Arthur's cock and pulsing, abruptly denying him the chance of release. Merlin drew away. Golden eyes watered faintly from almost choking on his lover's deliciously flushed arousal.
A stream of curses tumbled from reddened and pouting lips as Arthur shuddered against the tree trunk. Royal eyes were dark with lust, silently begging him to go back to what he was doing even as Merlin rose to his feet. He stared at his lover for a long moment before stepping close to him, insinuating himself between trembling thighs, one of which was still raised from his masturbatory session. His magic jumped at the slightest push of his will-power and Arthur was soon strung up, forearms magically bound to a branch above his blond head.
His magic could easily recall how much his lover enjoyed being restrained.
Another band of magic split in two and encircled powerful thighs. Soon the man was supported entirely by magic, feet unable to touch the ground, and hips canted. The magic pulsed and washed over his flesh continuously, soothing strains and encouraging blood-flow regardless of his position. Golden thighs were spread invitingly. The sight of it mesmerised him and, unable to help himself, Merlin reached out and ran his hands over smooth skin. Arthur moaned faintly, head thudding roughly against the tree trunk as he bared his throat.
Gold eyes flicked upwards and focused upon his lover's face, watching the man nibble his bottom lip as though trying to bite something back. He leaned in until he could tease that pouting bottom lip away from those harsh teeth and soothed the sting with a lap of his tongue, before drawing him into a kiss that was both deep and languid. Arthur sighed into it, dark blond eyelashes fluttering against chiselled cheeks. Pale hands continued to caress trembling thighs, feeling him come slowly down from his high.
"What do you want?" Merlin asked finally, drawing away from his lover's lips reluctantly. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when the man tried to coax him back for another kiss, hungry for him. For an arrogant and uptight prat, Arthur was needier than him sometimes.
"Whatever you want," the former King murmured, giving him those bedroom eyes again. A smirk graced his arrogant mouth, challenging him. The sorcerer's eyes narrowed sharply. Answering Arthur's smirk with one of his own, Merlin slid his hand upwards and rubbed an erect nipple teasingly. He pinched it hard without warning and twisted, earning a startled gasp. "That," Arthur exclaimed hoarsely, his face twisting in pleasure, "I want that." Encouraged by the man's reaction, he lowered his head and captured that tortured nipple with his lips, suckling upon it and lapping at it and tugging on it with eager teeth.
He tormented the neglected nipple with his fingers, delighting in the gasps and moans that escaped Arthur, relishing the shivers that plagued him. That was the only encouragement his lover seemed to need before his desires were spilling from his lips, his face flushed with mortification and arousal. His lover was trembling with need when he finally stepped back. Pale fingers slid downwards to grasp his aching length. Eyes still alive with magic, Merlin watched the ecstasy bombard Arthur's face.
The vaguest nudge had a band of magic spiralling downwards, whereupon it began caressing those needy bundles of nerves, slicking him up better than Arthur's saliva ever could have. He captured that arrogant mouth in an aggressive kiss as Arthur opened up for him, for his magic, devouring each encouraging groan with abandon. His magic was eager to fuck him open, preparing him for what the man truly desired. Merlin wanted nothing more than to give him exactly what he wanted.
To fuck Arthur hard, so hard that he could barely stand afterwards. To sink his magic into him with equal force and feel Arthur shudder violently as he came, trapped between him and the tree, bark digging into the flesh of his back mercilessly. To watch the world unravel around them as they lose themselves in one another's embrace, in their joined ecstasy.
With lips and hands and magic, Merlin brought the former King to the edge of his orgasm, but refused to let him tumble. And Arthur relished it, hands curling and uncurling above the branch to which his forearms had been bound, the entire length of his body a marionette to his puppet master. Backing away from golden skin was a challenge but the sorcerer managed, watching as that barrel of a chest heaved, watching as those imperfect teeth nibbled that perfect bottom lip, biting back his fevered cry as a cool breeze tormented his hot arousal.
Expression somewhat predatory, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks as he waited for royal eyelids to flutter open and reveal the lusty depths of his lover's eyes. Merlin undressed with slow and exaggerated movements, predatory expression heightening as Arthur's gaze remained fixed upon him. As though he could think of nothing better than to watch his former manservant strip down to nothing for the sole purpose of pleasing him. Of laying claim to him. He was comprised entirely of magic and dark lust as he closed the distance between them once more, hands hot and possessive as they trailed from Arthur's strong jaw to his powerful thighs.
"Merlin," Arthur whispered, blond head thudding against the tree again. But his eyes never strayed from Merlin's as the sorcerer withdrew one hand to grip the base of his cock, holding himself steady as he pressed against him. It was not long at all until pale hips were flush against his lover's arse. Soft sighs gave way to sharp gasps as the slow and teasing rolls of his hips escalated into a driving force to be reckoned with.
The harsh sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the small clearing. The former King was a wanton slut as Merlin buried himself within him again and again, moaning and cursing loud enough to wake the dead. That thought alone sent him into a frenzy, the snap of his hips quickening still further as anger pulsed inside him, growing more fervent with each passing second. His vision blurred as a broken sob escaped him and he was coming, hips slamming forward violently.
The magic gave out suddenly and his knees buckled a split-second before he toppled backwards, Arthur's weight driving him downwards. It was his lover's quick reflexes that saved them both from injury. Large and trembling hands stroked his cheeks and carded through his hair, but he could barely focus on them as his shoulders shook. The grief-stricken noises that escaped him were far from human – they sounded more like the gut-wrenching cries of a wounded Dragon. Soft words attempted to penetrate his hearing, but they were beyond his understanding as he gave into his grief for the first time since he had watched Will die.
Fury and agony swelled and surged within him, equal in measure and force. Something thick and solid lodged in his throat and the muscles constricted around it. Breathing became impossible, yet somehow he remained conscious. Merlin blinked repeatedly as he clutched at Arthur's hips as though his life depended on it, his vision clearing somewhat. And all the while, his lover whispered nonsense he could not decipher as Merlin choked on his tears. Before he knew it, the guilt was pouring out of him in a garbled stream of words and strangled sobs.
Arthur's hands tightened in his hair, the pain grounding him, and his whispering grew more impassioned, forget-me-not eyes intense as they hovered above him. In no time at all Merlin was boneless beneath him, breathing raggedly, eyes wet but no longer weeping. He listened as the former King told him that Will had made his own decisions, that the blame could not possibly lie upon Merlin's shoulders alone. The sorcerer did not believe one word of it, but he listened, letting it flow through him. He let Arthur's touch gradually calm him down until he could breathe with some semblance of regularity.
Through wet and reddened eyes, he observed what he had reaped. His lover was flushed and trembling from ecstasy still, though his arousal had subsided somewhat. Merlin could barely look the man in the eye, for the concern and empathy in his expression was almost blinding in its intensity. Arthur seemed unharmed, though his forearms bore faint signs of his binding. A further sense of guilt filtered through him as his eyes fixed upon those indents, where his magic had gripped his lover.
Muscles shifted beneath skin slicked with cooling sweat as Arthur made to move away from Merlin, whose cock remained half-hard within him. Pale hands tightened around strong hips. "Don't," the sorcerer whispered, gaze flicking upwards to fasten upon his lover's flushed and arrogant face. "I want you to stay." Merlin swallowed thickly, forcing down the lump lodged in his throat. "I want...I want..." The words dried up on his tongue, but one would have to be an imbecile not to understand.
The expression on Arthur's face softened further. The man leaned down, one hand braced against soft earth and foliage, and captured his mouth in a gentle kiss. "I'll take care of you," he murmured against his lips before slowly withdrawing, arse nestled snugly against hips and thighs. The first roll of his hips was slow and tentative. Tiny sparks of pleasure shot through Merlin's groin and filtered through his veins, earning a soft sigh of appreciation as his cock began to swell once more.
Imperial eyes flickered with want as his lover rolled his hips again and again, hesitance morphing into confidence. The man moaned quietly, baring the column of his neck as his blond head tipped back.
"Beautiful," Merlin gasped, hands easing their grasp before sliding down to clutch powerful thighs. Muscles flexed beneath his hands and the sparks of pleasure flickered into life, small but vivid flames igniting within him. "Arthur." His lover's head fell forward and lust-darkened eyes fastened upon Merlin as reddened and pouting lips parted in a soft sigh of ecstasy. In that moment, he needed those lips. Magic flooded his gaze as he surged upwards and twisted, abruptly pinning Arthur to the forest floor.
The former King blinked up at the conquering mage, surprised at the sudden shift in position, before his eyes grew heavy-lidded. Royal eyelids fluttered shut as Merlin captured his mouth in a deep and languid kiss. Muscular thighs spread slightly further apart in welcome. Large hands carded through dark and tangled hair briefly and continued downwards, fingertips dragging across sweat-damp shoulders. Neither of them moved for a long moment, content to merely lie there, basking in each other's affection.
God, it had been so long since they had enjoyed this simple pleasure.
"So fucking beautiful," the sorcerer murmured against his lover's mouth, appreciating the shivers that plagued Arthur as their every breath stimulated the hot and hard length trapped between their heaving abdomens. A smile curled his lips as his lover's hips twitched, clearly a sign that Arthur wanted him to move. To continue laying claim to him. But he refrained from doing so, choosing instead to trail kisses along a strong jaw and down a delicious neck towards a glorious collarbone. Merlin paused over all of Arthur's most sensitive zones and teased marks of possession into his flesh, delighting in the throaty groans his actions produced.
"Fuck," the man gasped as he arched hard against him, fingernails digging into his flesh.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That's the plan," he said, kissing his way back up to Arthur's mouth. That was when he began rolling his hips once more, withdrawing almost completely before sliding deeper with every slow thrust. Just to be an arse, Merlin dragged his lips over to the man's ear and asked if it felt good. His lover responded by calling him a bastard and tightening his thighs around him, tugging him in closer every time the sorcerer rolled his hips forward. "I love it when you call me that," he admitted darkly, teeth drawing the soft lobe between his lips.
Though normally Arthur would beg to be fucked harder – which usually involved a lot of cursing and threats of impalement – the former King refrained this time. Barely, judging by his strangled groans. That deserved a reward, he decided. Merlin shifted slowly, leaning back on his lower legs and half-dragging his lover's arse onto his lap with a burst of magic. Arthur cried out hoarsely as the angle of his thrusts changed by the perfect degree, a shudder racing through his royal pratliness.
Pale hands gripped powerful thighs and he snapped his hips forward, burying himself within Arthur with increasing vigour. Molten eyes watched the pleasure blossom on his arrogant face, taking note of even the tiniest reactions whenever he thrust into him. The former King was breathtaking like this, spread before him like an all-you-can-eat buffet. And Merlin was starving. When he reached out with his magic and dissolved the orgasm-inhibitor he had placed upon him earlier, choosing instead to use the band of magic in lieu of his own hand, Arthur's lust-darkened eyes fluttered open a fraction.
"This isn't about me," said Arthur, somehow managing to be sincere despite the sharp gasps and ragged moans that escaped him between words.
"No," Merlin agreed, "it isn't. It's about us."An almost maniacal grin bloomed on his face as his lover writhed in response to the touch of his magic, shuddering with mounting need. Those large hands, which had slipped away from his shoulders, were now stretched upwards. Desperate fingers dug into the earth for purchase, as though soil and foliage could keep him grounded. His name was a broken keen upon the man's lips, urgent and trembling. And then the word he was waiting for was voiced.
Please.
The aggressive vigour from earlier returned, the depth and speed of his thrusts increasing sharply as Merlin acted upon the list of desires his lover had voiced earlier, thrusting his magic deep into his lover with the same fervour. Royal eyelids snapped open in an instant and...for the first time in history...the eyes of Arthur Pendragon flooded with golden magic so vibrant it could rival the sun. That was the last thing the sorcerer's pleasure-numbed mind registered before toppling over the edge. The earth shook as an explosion of light within him pitched his vision into complete darkness.
When awareness returned to him it was to find himself slumped over a heaving chest as his lover lay sprawled beneath him. The entire length of his body ached and trembled, but he forced his hands to bear his weight and raised himself up. Blinking tiredly, he surveyed the scene. Still-wet come stained both of them and he realised that only a few seconds must have passed since his blinding orgasm. Arthur was sprawled out beneath him, a dopey smile curling his arrogant mouth and his eyes unseeing.
The man looked entirely blissed out as though the sorcerer's magic was a narcotic, the effects of which he was still suffering. Affection blossomed in his heart at the sight of him. Merlin glanced around and froze in surprise. A huff of laughter escaped him as he marvelled at the sight that met him. What must have been a dozen trees had been uprooted, their fallen bodies lying heavily upon the ground. Their leaves were strewn everywhere. "You used magic," he breathed in wonderment, turning his awed gaze back upon his lover.
He laid his hand upon the former King's cheek and startled when Arthur moaned softly, leaning into his touch. It was almost as though every nerve in the man's body had been reprogrammed to react to even the most innocent touch of his hand. The dopey smile curling his arrogant mouth grew even dopier, if that was at all possible. An unquenchable urge to kiss him washed through Merlin. Arthur's lips were warm and pliant beneath him, responding to his kiss with lazy indulgence.
Slowly, Arthur seemed to come back into himself, dopiness fading in the tiniest increments in favour of quiet contentment. Their kiss, slow and deep, dragged on for an eternity. Neither of them were willing to give it up and that suited Merlin just fine. "Beautiful," he mumbled against that kissable mouth.
"Shut up," his lover grumbled, though a smirk tugged at his lips.
Pale fingers pinched golden skin. "Prat."
"You love it."
Merlin hummed noncommittally and deepened the kiss, basking in the warmth of Arthur's affection. Strong hands cradled his face, staining his skin with earth, but it hardly mattered as the pair of them lay together in a pool of summer heat. "Bet you did it on purpose," he muttered after a moment as Arthur's legs wrapped securely around him, holding him close. "Waking me up the way you did, making me want you." The smile curling his lover's mouth virtually gave him away. "Missed me, didn't you? Needed to be fucked. Fucking slut."
Hands slipped downwards, caressing narrow shoulders. Fingernails teased him lightly. "Insulting your King is treason."
The sorcerer laughed against his mouth. "You love it," he mocked, turning his lover's words against him. It was Arthur's turn to hum in answer, sinking back into Merlin's kiss. He devoured the soft moan that escaped the former King. Though he would gladly have spent the day simply kissing Arthur, Merlin eventually found the strength to withdraw. Rising to his feet was a challenge; his knees threatened to give way twice. "Up," he ordered as he nudged Arthur's thigh with his foot.
The noise that Arthur made sounded vaguely akin to a whine.
An irritated huff pushed past his lips. "Come on," he urged, nudging him again. "We've spent too much time in one place already. We need to leave."
"You expect me to walk?" The expression on his lover's face was comical. "You should consider it a miracle that I'm conscious."
Merlin grinned. "That's what you get for waking me up the way you did." He nudged him a third time, going so far as to poke him in the arse with his toe. "Get up."
"So masterful," Arthur drawled, an amused smirk gracing his lips. But he did not fight when Merlin wrapped his magic around him and hauled him upright, depositing him on wobbly legs. Steadying him with a gentle hand was almost second nature to him. The marks of possession on his throat were vivid against his flesh and the sorcerer wanted nothing more than to revisit them. Cock-tease, he thought with some frustration. Judging by the broadening smirk, Arthur knew exactly what he was thinking.
Face flushed in faint embarrassment, he told him to hurry up.
"If I must," the man sighed dramatically, looking skyward as though he were praying for strength. The look he levelled at Merlin a moment later could only be described as suggestive. "You could at least tidy me up." A second later Arthur was yelping in a high-pitched and surprised manner as he was doused in ice-cold water that had materialized above his head. "That's not what I meant!" Laughter bubbled up within him at the sight of his lover's drowned-rat appearance and familiar indignation.
He had missed this.
Heart clenching with warm affection, Merlin focused upon drying the man's clothes. That seemed to be the moment that Arthur noticed what had happened to the trees. "What the fuck happened?"
The sorcerer glanced at him, hot-eyed and smirking. "You came." Amusement curled his mouth as the former King flushed scarlet, messy blond hair clinging to his head as rivulets of water ran down his neck. Imperial eyes stared wide-eyed at the devastation he had caused, bewildered and increasingly impressed with himself. Merlin snorted and began dressing, feeling his skin prickling in the heat. He vaguely heard the sound of Arthur following his lead. Once they were dressed they stowed away Arthur's weaponry and Merlin obliterated the evidence of their campfire and lovemaking.
Well, except for the trees. There was very little he could do about them, really. He could make them a bit more dead, he supposed, but that notion gave him the creeps. He compromised by encouraging the growth of moss upon their trunks instead. As soon as he felt somewhat satisfied that no one could tell they had been there, Merlin headed off into the forest with a determined step. His lover fell into step beside him, larger hand brushing faintly against his, earning a sideways glance and a soft smile.
"You seem to know where you're going."
Merlin hummed in agreement, returning his gaze to the forest lying ahead of him.
"And that would be where, exactly?"
"My birthplace," Merlin answered reluctantly. Though Arthur said nothing in response to that, he could practically feel the man's questions bouncing around in his brain. "In the days before the Great Purge," he explained quietly, "it was known as the Crystal Cave. My kind revered the cave, for the crystals within had the power to show those who gazed into their depths images of the future. The Crystal of Neahtid originated in that cave and it alone carried more magical energy than even I possess."
He only realised his lover had stopped walking when the man's hand encircled his wrist and held tight, tugging him backwards with little effort. Merlin huffed irritably and turned to look at him. Arthur's gaze was dark with apprehension, but his expression was soft. "Are you certain it's wise to go there, Merlin?" The former King searched his face for a long moment.
"Even if it isn't, it doesn't matter," the sorcerer answered firmly. Without thinking, he pressed tentative fingertips against Arthur's lower abdomen, closer to the side than his navel. For an instant it was chainmail he felt beneath his fingers, hot and sticky with blood and grime, instead of frayed fabric. Swallowing back a strangled sound of remembered despair and feeling more than a little afraid, Merlin looked up in to forget-me-not eyes framed by blond lashes. "I need to know."
To Be Continued.
I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, because my brain stopped functioning properly somewhere near the start of it...
I kind of like the idea of Arthur being able to use Merlin's magic when overwhelmed like that... You can probably tell...heh...
Feel free to let me know what you think.