Thrice Bonded in Magic by Spikedluv Ambrosius/Adam Fest #6: Three
Title: Thrice Bonded in Magic
Author: Spikedluv
Fandom: Dante’s Cove
Rating: NC17/Slash
Pairing: Ambrosius/Adam
Length: 2572 words
Spoilers: Through season two.
Summary: Third time’s the charm.
Notes: Goes AU after Grace's spell. Written for dantescovefests Fest #6: three.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written: September 30, 2008
Ambrosius swirled what was left of his drink in the bottom of the tumbler, watching the liquid change color in the light. He emptied the glass, savoring the smokey burn as the liquid slid down his throat, then let it fall heavily onto the table and gestured to the waitress for another.
Ambrosius took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to let his frustration show. There was still so much to accomplish, and so little time for it, and now this . . . this distraction. The night of the solstice would soon be upon them and he had yet to draw Kevin into his web. Even so, all he could think about was that silly boy, Adam.
Adam was weak of mind, weak of will, nothing like Kevin, who continued to be difficult, spurning Ambrosius’ advances. Hardly worthy of standing at Ambrosius’ side when he went back in time and changed history.
Ambrosius glanced up when the waitress set his drink in front of him and removed the empty. He smiled and thanked her because it would keep her returning to his table, but inside he seethed with impotent fury over the way things still stood. Kevin should be his by now, and it grated on him that none of his machinations to date had succeeded in binding the boy to him.
As if thinking about him had conjured him up, Adam appeared in the doorway and started across the floor to the bar. His normally loose limbed strut held a bit of tension that told Ambrosius he was looking to score, and soon.
The boy wore jeans that were nearly falling off his hips and a short-sleeved shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, leaving very little to the imagination. Not that Ambrosius needed to imagine it, since he’d had that hard body naked and writhing beneath him just the night before.
Ambrosius hardened at the memory of it, of Adam giving in, being so pliant and willing to do anything Ambrosius wanted, spreading his legs like a little slut and begging for it. The saint, as Adam had told Ambrosius it would, had certainly set him free.
Halfway to the bar Adam caught sight of Ambrosius, smiled that crooked smile, and changed direction, heading for Ambrosius’ table.
The mere sight of him thrilled Ambrosius. He found himself drawn to the boy for reasons he had yet to discern. He needed to control himself. Perhaps all those years locked away had eroded his self-restraint. Not that he’d been prone to exercising self-restraint before Grace had trapped him, else he’d have never been caught with Raymond in the parlor.
The air around him crackled with energy as Ambrosius drew on his power. He imagined smiting Adam and putting an end to this confusion that plagued him and clouded his purpose.
Instead, the boy pulled out a chair and, uninvited, plopped down next to him.
“Hey, Bro.” Adam leaned closer to Ambrosius as if they were sharing a secret, and Ambrosius caught the scent of the flowery shower gel he’d used under the stink of sweat as his body tried to clean the drugs out of his system. “Got any more of that saint? That shit was awesome.”
Ambrosius ran scathing eyes over Adam. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot; rolling in his head like a wild horse as he apparently found it difficult to focus on one thing for any length of time. “You hardly seem to be in need of any more; you’re a mess.”
Really, what could he possibly see in this boy?
“That’s why I need it.” Adam’s fingers shook as he reached for a cardboard coaster advertising Corona and began to pick it apart.
Ambrosius didn’t know what had come over him the night before, what force had made him hunger so for a boy he wouldn’t previously have looked at twice, who he would have considered beneath him in another life. Nothing like his Raymond, or Kevin, and yet, when he tried to bring to mind the memory of either of them taking him, bending him over the couch, driving him into the headboard, the only image he could conjure up was that of Adam, splayed out and pressed against the window as Ambrosius pounded into him.
Ambrosius shifted in his chair, gritted his teeth and snapped. “No, I don’t have any.”
The boy (Ambrosius couldn’t help thinking of him that way, given the years he’d lived and those he’d merely existed, trapped until Kevin had freed him) looked at him with wounded eyes. But his desperation for a fix was greater than any hurt Ambrosius’ tone may have inflicted.
“You can show me where to find it though, right? I looked for the spring, but I couldn’t find it.”
Kevin was who Ambrosius should be concentrating on, who Ambrosius needed if he wanted to go back and change the past, erase Grace from existence. What, he wondered for the first time, would happen to him if he succeeded in changing the past? Would he even exist in this moment if Grace were not allowed to trap him outside of time?
Ambrosius shook his head, dispersing the cloud of doubt. He needed to be clear-headed about this if he was to succeed. What did it matter, if he could banish Grace? Still, the boy, Adam (he made a point of using the boy’s name), Adam looked lost, in need of guidance.
Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. Instead of being weak-minded, Adam was malleable, and rather than weak-willed, he was just waiting from someone to teach him. He’d certainly changed his tune last night, accepted, even begged for, Ambrosius’ touch despite his earlier protestations. Gone from frightened virgin to willing and desperate for it under Ambrosius’ touch.
Without thinking too much about what he was doing, Ambrosius said, “I have something even better.”
Adam’s head came up at that, his eyes following a bit more slowly as it took him a few seconds to focus on Ambrosius. “Really? What?”
Ambrosius had no intention of telling Adam the truth, at least not yet (not that he’d be believed anyway). “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
“It’s good shit?”
“Oh, it’s very good shit,” Ambrosius said. He was prepared to compel Adam to obey him if he showed any signs of recalcitrance, but he was like a puppy, eagerly following Ambrosius out of H2Eau and to Ambrosius’ car.
Ambrosius drove them to his beach house with the top down, wind whipping through his hair, across his skin. He loved the sense of freedom, of not being closed in. The same reason he’d bought a house with so many windows looking out over the ocean.
Despite the fresh air, Adam looked like he might become sick, or pass out, neither of which appealed to Ambrosius. He reached across the car and pressed his palm to Adam’s groin. In his distress, Adam barely registered the touch. Ambrosius drew on his power and gave Adam a little taste of it, delivered directly to his cock.
Adam’s entire body jerked and his eyes shot open as he hardened beneath Ambrosius hand. “Bro?” he moaned.
“How did that feel?” Ambrosius asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to make Adam think about it.
“What did you do to me?” Adam asked, with awe in his voice.
“I gave you a small taste of the ‘good shit’,” Ambrosius said. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” he added, as he massaged Adam’s cock through his jeans, keeping him hard, not letting him come down from that first jolt of arousal.
Adam closed his eyes and bit his lip, moaning as he pushed up into Ambrosius’ hand.
“Put the seat back,” Ambrosius commanded.
Adam moved to immediately, eagerly, do his bidding, which made Ambrosius’ cock swell. When the seat was back as far as it would go, Ambrosius ordered Adam to raise his arms, grip the seat back behind his head.
With Adam spread out as much as he could be in the confines of the car, open and exposed to him, Ambrosius took full advantage, played with Adam until his moans and whimpers filled the night, his hips rising off the seat as he silently begged Ambrosius for more.
By then Ambrosius was hard as a rock and in need of relief. They were close to his home, but Ambrosius couldn’t wait. Nor could he think of a reason why he shouldn’t take his pleasure now. He slowed and pulled over onto the side of the road. He killed the ignition and turned off the headlights, so that the only illumination were the moon and the stars above them.
Ambrosius pushed his own seat back as far as it would go, then said, “Suck me, Adam.”
Adam opened his eyes and gave Ambrosius a long look. Ambrosius was preparing to compel his obedience, but before he was forced to do so, Adam sat up and twisted in his seat until he was on his knees. He fumbled at the fastenings of Ambrosius’ pants, but got them undone before Ambrosius had to help him, or die from the brush of Adam’s fingers against his cock through the material.
Adam didn’t hesitate, but his movements were slow, careful, as if he were weighing his options. The blow job wasn’t the best Ambrosius could remember receiving, but the fact that Adam was so inexperienced, that Ambrosius was most likely the first to take his mouth, just as he’d been the first to slide into his delightfully tight ass, was more of a turn on than having the most experienced of cocksuckers at his bidding.
Ambrosius continued to work Adam’s cock through his jeans, and once Adam had found a rhythm on Ambrosius’ dick, he unfastened Adam’s jeans and pulled his cock out. Adam moaned around Ambrosius’ prick as his own was exposed to the night air, as flesh finally met flesh when Ambrosius curled his fingers round him and stroked.
Adam became more aroused as Ambrosius played with him, and began to fuck himself into Ambrosius’ hand. Ambrosius sent another trace of power into Adam, which sent his hips jerking and bucking as he frantically sucked at Ambrosius’ cock.
Ambrosius was eager to fill Adam’s mouth, but he wasn’t yet ready to end the experience. He used his magic to take them both to the edge and hold them there, balancing on the precipice for what seemed an eternity, and then he allowed himself to fall, hips thrusting as he filled Adam’s mouth, holding his head so he couldn’t pull off, and only when he’d sated his own desire did he allow Adam release.
It took several minutes for the magic to bleed off enough to allow them to come down from their orgasms. Adam remained kneeling, his face buried in Ambrosius’ lap, his breath feathering warm across his skin. Ambrosius ran his fingers through Adam’s hair, brushed them across his face. Adam’s come dried into a sticky mess on his other hand.
He dragged Adam’s head up and placed his hand to Adam’s lips. Without a word spoken, Adam began licking his come off Ambrosius’ hand. When he was done Ambrosius pulled him into a kiss, tasting their combined essence on Adam’s tongue.
Ambrosius kept Adam on his knees, his jeans sliding down his hips, exposing even more of his privates. Adam’s head was thrown back, his eyes closed, lips parted.
“What are you feeling?” Ambrosius asked after he’d brought the car to a stop in front of his home.
“Everything,” Adam breathed.
“Not yet,” Ambrosius said, “but soon.”
He allowed Adam to pull up his jeans, but dragged him inside before he had a chance to fasten them. They’d only be coming off, anyway.
Ambrosius didn’t bother with lights, allowing the moonlight spilling across the floor to be his only guide. No sooner had he closed the door than he had Adam pressed up against it, kissing him, pressing their hips together.
Though he’d just come, the thought of taking Adam again, sliding inside his tight hole and filling him, fucking him until he begged for more, begged to be allowed to come, had Ambrosius hardening once more.
Ambrosius quickly divested Adam of his clothes, then himself. He considered taking Adam against the windows again, fucking him while looking out into the night, at stars he’d only seen in his dreams for far too many years.
Instead he led Adam to the bed and kissed him until he reeled with it, brushing his fingers over every inch of skin he could reach. He kept returning to Adam’s nipples, stroking them, pinching them, feeling the way his body arched, listening to each little whimper. And then he touched them not just with his fingers. As the magic coursed through him, from nipple to cock, Adam went rigid as if he’d been hit with an electric current.
He’d been hit with something much better, and Ambrosius could see the knowledge of it in Adam’s eyes as he came all over them both.
Ambrosius had little patience left. He scooped up the cooling come and used it to lubricate Adam’s hole, spreading it over his ass, pressing inside with one finger, then two. A couple nudges of his prostate accompanied by a touch of magic made Adam scream, brought him to full hardness.
Ambrosius could wait no longer. He withdrew his fingers and commanded Adam to his knees. Ambrosius could tell that Adam was caught in the magic, in his body’s reaction to the truth of it, in a way he could never lose himself in the saint.
As soon as Adam was in place, head down, ass up, Ambrosius guided the head of his cock to the glistening hole and pushed. Adam gasped, but Ambrosius ignored it, slid the rest of the way in until he was buried balls deep in Adam’s ass.
He held still, not out of any concern for the boy beneath him, but because to move meant he’d come right then, and Ambrosius didn’t want to come until he’d fucked the boy out. When he had control back, Ambrosius pulled out, pressed back in. Then again, and again. He changed up the pace -- long, deep thrusts, then short, fast jabs -- in an attempt to keep himself from losing control.
Adam was neither still, nor quiet. He writhed on the end of Ambrosius’ cock, trembling and begging. He pulled on the sheets and tried to force Ambrosius to move faster and harder and moremoremore.
When Ambrosius deemed the time right, he reached around Adam’s hip and curled his fingers around him, hit him with a small burst of magic that had him shaking and crying out as he spilled over Ambrosius’ fingers and the sheet.
Adam fell limp, and Ambrosius held him up by his hips, slammed into him, taking his own pleasure from the boy’s body. Ambrosius let go of the magic, filled Adam with it even as he filled him with his come, washing away every last residue of the saint and gracing Adam with another addiction.
Ambrosius fell sated across Adam’s back as they both crashed to the bed, unaware of anything outside his house, outside their two joined bodies. He didn’t feel the change in the balance of Tresum, didn’t hear Grace’s laughter, or Diana’s cry of rage. He didn’t think of Kevin or the solstice, only the body beneath him.
The End
Author: Spikedluv
Fandom: Dante’s Cove
Rating: NC17/Slash
Pairing: Ambrosius/Adam
Length: 2572 words
Spoilers: Through season two.
Summary: Third time’s the charm.
Notes: Goes AU after Grace's spell. Written for dantescovefests Fest #6: three.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written: September 30, 2008
Ambrosius swirled what was left of his drink in the bottom of the tumbler, watching the liquid change color in the light. He emptied the glass, savoring the smokey burn as the liquid slid down his throat, then let it fall heavily onto the table and gestured to the waitress for another.
Ambrosius took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to let his frustration show. There was still so much to accomplish, and so little time for it, and now this . . . this distraction. The night of the solstice would soon be upon them and he had yet to draw Kevin into his web. Even so, all he could think about was that silly boy, Adam.
Adam was weak of mind, weak of will, nothing like Kevin, who continued to be difficult, spurning Ambrosius’ advances. Hardly worthy of standing at Ambrosius’ side when he went back in time and changed history.
Ambrosius glanced up when the waitress set his drink in front of him and removed the empty. He smiled and thanked her because it would keep her returning to his table, but inside he seethed with impotent fury over the way things still stood. Kevin should be his by now, and it grated on him that none of his machinations to date had succeeded in binding the boy to him.
As if thinking about him had conjured him up, Adam appeared in the doorway and started across the floor to the bar. His normally loose limbed strut held a bit of tension that told Ambrosius he was looking to score, and soon.
The boy wore jeans that were nearly falling off his hips and a short-sleeved shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, leaving very little to the imagination. Not that Ambrosius needed to imagine it, since he’d had that hard body naked and writhing beneath him just the night before.
Ambrosius hardened at the memory of it, of Adam giving in, being so pliant and willing to do anything Ambrosius wanted, spreading his legs like a little slut and begging for it. The saint, as Adam had told Ambrosius it would, had certainly set him free.
Halfway to the bar Adam caught sight of Ambrosius, smiled that crooked smile, and changed direction, heading for Ambrosius’ table.
The mere sight of him thrilled Ambrosius. He found himself drawn to the boy for reasons he had yet to discern. He needed to control himself. Perhaps all those years locked away had eroded his self-restraint. Not that he’d been prone to exercising self-restraint before Grace had trapped him, else he’d have never been caught with Raymond in the parlor.
The air around him crackled with energy as Ambrosius drew on his power. He imagined smiting Adam and putting an end to this confusion that plagued him and clouded his purpose.
Instead, the boy pulled out a chair and, uninvited, plopped down next to him.
“Hey, Bro.” Adam leaned closer to Ambrosius as if they were sharing a secret, and Ambrosius caught the scent of the flowery shower gel he’d used under the stink of sweat as his body tried to clean the drugs out of his system. “Got any more of that saint? That shit was awesome.”
Ambrosius ran scathing eyes over Adam. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot; rolling in his head like a wild horse as he apparently found it difficult to focus on one thing for any length of time. “You hardly seem to be in need of any more; you’re a mess.”
Really, what could he possibly see in this boy?
“That’s why I need it.” Adam’s fingers shook as he reached for a cardboard coaster advertising Corona and began to pick it apart.
Ambrosius didn’t know what had come over him the night before, what force had made him hunger so for a boy he wouldn’t previously have looked at twice, who he would have considered beneath him in another life. Nothing like his Raymond, or Kevin, and yet, when he tried to bring to mind the memory of either of them taking him, bending him over the couch, driving him into the headboard, the only image he could conjure up was that of Adam, splayed out and pressed against the window as Ambrosius pounded into him.
Ambrosius shifted in his chair, gritted his teeth and snapped. “No, I don’t have any.”
The boy (Ambrosius couldn’t help thinking of him that way, given the years he’d lived and those he’d merely existed, trapped until Kevin had freed him) looked at him with wounded eyes. But his desperation for a fix was greater than any hurt Ambrosius’ tone may have inflicted.
“You can show me where to find it though, right? I looked for the spring, but I couldn’t find it.”
Kevin was who Ambrosius should be concentrating on, who Ambrosius needed if he wanted to go back and change the past, erase Grace from existence. What, he wondered for the first time, would happen to him if he succeeded in changing the past? Would he even exist in this moment if Grace were not allowed to trap him outside of time?
Ambrosius shook his head, dispersing the cloud of doubt. He needed to be clear-headed about this if he was to succeed. What did it matter, if he could banish Grace? Still, the boy, Adam (he made a point of using the boy’s name), Adam looked lost, in need of guidance.
Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. Instead of being weak-minded, Adam was malleable, and rather than weak-willed, he was just waiting from someone to teach him. He’d certainly changed his tune last night, accepted, even begged for, Ambrosius’ touch despite his earlier protestations. Gone from frightened virgin to willing and desperate for it under Ambrosius’ touch.
Without thinking too much about what he was doing, Ambrosius said, “I have something even better.”
Adam’s head came up at that, his eyes following a bit more slowly as it took him a few seconds to focus on Ambrosius. “Really? What?”
Ambrosius had no intention of telling Adam the truth, at least not yet (not that he’d be believed anyway). “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
“It’s good shit?”
“Oh, it’s very good shit,” Ambrosius said. He was prepared to compel Adam to obey him if he showed any signs of recalcitrance, but he was like a puppy, eagerly following Ambrosius out of H2Eau and to Ambrosius’ car.
Ambrosius drove them to his beach house with the top down, wind whipping through his hair, across his skin. He loved the sense of freedom, of not being closed in. The same reason he’d bought a house with so many windows looking out over the ocean.
Despite the fresh air, Adam looked like he might become sick, or pass out, neither of which appealed to Ambrosius. He reached across the car and pressed his palm to Adam’s groin. In his distress, Adam barely registered the touch. Ambrosius drew on his power and gave Adam a little taste of it, delivered directly to his cock.
Adam’s entire body jerked and his eyes shot open as he hardened beneath Ambrosius hand. “Bro?” he moaned.
“How did that feel?” Ambrosius asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to make Adam think about it.
“What did you do to me?” Adam asked, with awe in his voice.
“I gave you a small taste of the ‘good shit’,” Ambrosius said. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” he added, as he massaged Adam’s cock through his jeans, keeping him hard, not letting him come down from that first jolt of arousal.
Adam closed his eyes and bit his lip, moaning as he pushed up into Ambrosius’ hand.
“Put the seat back,” Ambrosius commanded.
Adam moved to immediately, eagerly, do his bidding, which made Ambrosius’ cock swell. When the seat was back as far as it would go, Ambrosius ordered Adam to raise his arms, grip the seat back behind his head.
With Adam spread out as much as he could be in the confines of the car, open and exposed to him, Ambrosius took full advantage, played with Adam until his moans and whimpers filled the night, his hips rising off the seat as he silently begged Ambrosius for more.
By then Ambrosius was hard as a rock and in need of relief. They were close to his home, but Ambrosius couldn’t wait. Nor could he think of a reason why he shouldn’t take his pleasure now. He slowed and pulled over onto the side of the road. He killed the ignition and turned off the headlights, so that the only illumination were the moon and the stars above them.
Ambrosius pushed his own seat back as far as it would go, then said, “Suck me, Adam.”
Adam opened his eyes and gave Ambrosius a long look. Ambrosius was preparing to compel his obedience, but before he was forced to do so, Adam sat up and twisted in his seat until he was on his knees. He fumbled at the fastenings of Ambrosius’ pants, but got them undone before Ambrosius had to help him, or die from the brush of Adam’s fingers against his cock through the material.
Adam didn’t hesitate, but his movements were slow, careful, as if he were weighing his options. The blow job wasn’t the best Ambrosius could remember receiving, but the fact that Adam was so inexperienced, that Ambrosius was most likely the first to take his mouth, just as he’d been the first to slide into his delightfully tight ass, was more of a turn on than having the most experienced of cocksuckers at his bidding.
Ambrosius continued to work Adam’s cock through his jeans, and once Adam had found a rhythm on Ambrosius’ dick, he unfastened Adam’s jeans and pulled his cock out. Adam moaned around Ambrosius’ prick as his own was exposed to the night air, as flesh finally met flesh when Ambrosius curled his fingers round him and stroked.
Adam became more aroused as Ambrosius played with him, and began to fuck himself into Ambrosius’ hand. Ambrosius sent another trace of power into Adam, which sent his hips jerking and bucking as he frantically sucked at Ambrosius’ cock.
Ambrosius was eager to fill Adam’s mouth, but he wasn’t yet ready to end the experience. He used his magic to take them both to the edge and hold them there, balancing on the precipice for what seemed an eternity, and then he allowed himself to fall, hips thrusting as he filled Adam’s mouth, holding his head so he couldn’t pull off, and only when he’d sated his own desire did he allow Adam release.
It took several minutes for the magic to bleed off enough to allow them to come down from their orgasms. Adam remained kneeling, his face buried in Ambrosius’ lap, his breath feathering warm across his skin. Ambrosius ran his fingers through Adam’s hair, brushed them across his face. Adam’s come dried into a sticky mess on his other hand.
He dragged Adam’s head up and placed his hand to Adam’s lips. Without a word spoken, Adam began licking his come off Ambrosius’ hand. When he was done Ambrosius pulled him into a kiss, tasting their combined essence on Adam’s tongue.
Ambrosius kept Adam on his knees, his jeans sliding down his hips, exposing even more of his privates. Adam’s head was thrown back, his eyes closed, lips parted.
“What are you feeling?” Ambrosius asked after he’d brought the car to a stop in front of his home.
“Everything,” Adam breathed.
“Not yet,” Ambrosius said, “but soon.”
He allowed Adam to pull up his jeans, but dragged him inside before he had a chance to fasten them. They’d only be coming off, anyway.
Ambrosius didn’t bother with lights, allowing the moonlight spilling across the floor to be his only guide. No sooner had he closed the door than he had Adam pressed up against it, kissing him, pressing their hips together.
Though he’d just come, the thought of taking Adam again, sliding inside his tight hole and filling him, fucking him until he begged for more, begged to be allowed to come, had Ambrosius hardening once more.
Ambrosius quickly divested Adam of his clothes, then himself. He considered taking Adam against the windows again, fucking him while looking out into the night, at stars he’d only seen in his dreams for far too many years.
Instead he led Adam to the bed and kissed him until he reeled with it, brushing his fingers over every inch of skin he could reach. He kept returning to Adam’s nipples, stroking them, pinching them, feeling the way his body arched, listening to each little whimper. And then he touched them not just with his fingers. As the magic coursed through him, from nipple to cock, Adam went rigid as if he’d been hit with an electric current.
He’d been hit with something much better, and Ambrosius could see the knowledge of it in Adam’s eyes as he came all over them both.
Ambrosius had little patience left. He scooped up the cooling come and used it to lubricate Adam’s hole, spreading it over his ass, pressing inside with one finger, then two. A couple nudges of his prostate accompanied by a touch of magic made Adam scream, brought him to full hardness.
Ambrosius could wait no longer. He withdrew his fingers and commanded Adam to his knees. Ambrosius could tell that Adam was caught in the magic, in his body’s reaction to the truth of it, in a way he could never lose himself in the saint.
As soon as Adam was in place, head down, ass up, Ambrosius guided the head of his cock to the glistening hole and pushed. Adam gasped, but Ambrosius ignored it, slid the rest of the way in until he was buried balls deep in Adam’s ass.
He held still, not out of any concern for the boy beneath him, but because to move meant he’d come right then, and Ambrosius didn’t want to come until he’d fucked the boy out. When he had control back, Ambrosius pulled out, pressed back in. Then again, and again. He changed up the pace -- long, deep thrusts, then short, fast jabs -- in an attempt to keep himself from losing control.
Adam was neither still, nor quiet. He writhed on the end of Ambrosius’ cock, trembling and begging. He pulled on the sheets and tried to force Ambrosius to move faster and harder and moremoremore.
When Ambrosius deemed the time right, he reached around Adam’s hip and curled his fingers around him, hit him with a small burst of magic that had him shaking and crying out as he spilled over Ambrosius’ fingers and the sheet.
Adam fell limp, and Ambrosius held him up by his hips, slammed into him, taking his own pleasure from the boy’s body. Ambrosius let go of the magic, filled Adam with it even as he filled him with his come, washing away every last residue of the saint and gracing Adam with another addiction.
Ambrosius fell sated across Adam’s back as they both crashed to the bed, unaware of anything outside his house, outside their two joined bodies. He didn’t feel the change in the balance of Tresum, didn’t hear Grace’s laughter, or Diana’s cry of rage. He didn’t think of Kevin or the solstice, only the body beneath him.
The End