Malachite | L. S [Completed]

18: My Love

To bed someone during winter was one of the greatest pleasures a man could know.

And here Louis was, fucking into his omega as though he was starved of him, as though they had not left the bed for four moons now, as though the omega was not just sat on his knot two hours prior. They were on the floor now, and although the plush carpet was providing Louis with some warmth, the shrill cold was still evident in the air. Harry, however, paid no mind to it as he continued to pleasure himself on Louis' cock while Louis met him halfway with firm thrusts.

"Do you reckon I am in heat?" Harry managed between laboured breaths, his skin blushing with the heat of arousal and his hair bounced along him. Louis merely groaned, stalling his knot from popping when he felt a plethora of slick trickling down his shaft. "I cannot seem to get enough of you."

"I fear so," Louis mumbled, burying his face in between Harry's soft chest as he began to fuck into his omega harder and he felt him go limp. He was well aware that Harry was not in heat, he wouldn't be for another fortnight or so, but it was not unusual for bondmates to wish to mate endlessly upon bonding for the first time. "You are so wet, my love. Your cunt will be my very end."

Harry let out something in between a moan and a giggle before his bruised lips were fitting against Louis'. "That would be a pathetic cause of death to be written in the books. Death by your lover's cunt."

"I'd die a thousand deaths if I get to knot you in each." His omega found humour in it as he laughed, sending waves of endless pleasure that coursed throughout Louis. It did not take long for Louis to knot him, pushing it into Harry while he worked a hand over Harry's hardness until the omega cried and deflated against Louis' chest, gently scenting him and sucking on his bondmark.

By the time Louis' knot went down, the omega was in a deep slumber as Louis placed him in their nest with utmost caution. It warmed Louis' insides, the sight of Harry marked completely as his, with his mark and his scent. His skin was now littered with little blooms of purple that Louis had managed to paint on his skin with his mouth during the past few days, and he had never looked more beautiful.

With a deep sigh, Louis drew himself a bath. He knew he was needed to attend to his duties soon, and the four days of bliss that they had spent together were bound to come to an end. As he immersed himself into the warm water, his mind drifted towards the flashes of the moment when he first bit Harry, that sense of euphoria that gushed through him upon the first taste of Harry's blood on his tongue, the sense of pride within him upon laying his eyes on the mark for the first time. It had been a dream of his after all, from as long as he could think. And as he allowed the water to soothe his skin, the scent of the myriad of oils lingering in it and providing him with a sense of calmness, Louis realised he now was in a reality where Harry was his in every sense.

But he had a duty, and no matter how much he despised his position, he knew he could not abandon his people. When he got out of the bath, even with a fire roaring in the hearth in their chambers, Louis' felt a frigid shiver run through him. Harry was still asleep by the time Louis emerged completely dressed. He was quick to press a kiss against his mate's forehead before he walked out of their chambers for the first time in four moons. Their twined scent was heady throughout the hallway, and Louis realised he owed a lot of people apologies. It was late in the evening and the windows held a setting sun, painting the manor a shade of gamboge.

"It is lovely to have you back, your Royal Highness." Sir Raynfyre's familiar face was a sweet welcome for Louis as the old knight strode briskly to catch up with Louis' step from where he was halfway across the hallway. Louis offered the knight a smile. "I hope you had a pleasant rut with the Duchess."

"I--" Louis could not quite grasp enough words to hide the flush of embarrassment. They had assumed he had gone into rut. Heavens. Surely Harry and he were not that obscene. "It was, indeed." He settled for a lie instead of enduring the torment of explaining himself. Sir Raynfyre nodded kindly before he halted and held the door to the council hall open for Louis, his movements refined and crisp like the tip of a fine sword.