mund | open post.

I have.

[ Graves says quietly when Credence climbs onto his lap, all long limbs and understated grace. He studies him when Credence settles in, when his hand strokes his chest, warm over the fine dark silks of his robes. He can't take his eyes off him -- Credence is strange and beautiful, and Graves can't help a possessive flare of pride when he realizes that his new husband is irrevocably changed from the night before; that he's fundamentally changed, eyes opened to pleasures of the flesh, a taste for it kindled within him and Graves is the only one that can answer the longing.

A hand comes to rest on his waist, the other curving over his ass. Credence is sore today, he knows -- but here he is, still wanting more, like a kitten after a saucer of milk. He will indulge him, and Graves leans forward to kiss his mouth briefly, lingering and in no real hurry. Teasing him, he thinks, is worth it when he starts to ask for more, reckless and passionate and entirely insatiable. Graves has never been more happy with a partner, especially when it's Credence, and he squeezes his ass gently, careful not to make it hurt more. ]

I took your innocence from you. [ He murmurs, his words low and velvet. ] You belong to me now. All of you. [ He nuzzles him, noses against his cheek, his gesture lazily intimate. Credence had given him something precious, something he thought had been a lie up until the moment he realized Credence knew so very little of sex. That's all about to change. ]

How shall I make you feel better today?

[A part of Credence is insanely, absurdly, jealous at the idea that someone else had taken from Graves what he took from Credence. It's absurd, if only because they've been married a day and he shouldn't be feeling so much so quickly. It's dangerous, wearing his heart so out in the open, letting his husband take it without any thought as to what he might do with it.

His back tightens, chest pressing forward when a hand finds its way to his ass, squeezing. There's a dull ache between, but it only makes him want more.]

I like it when you touch me.

[He doesn't know how to ask for what he needs, doesn't really know what that is. Credence wants to feel the way he did last night, to be full and to hurt and to be something beyond just himself. He doesn't know how to say that.]

I like what we did before. [He kisses Graves' cheek, leans back and meets his eyes, silently asking if that was okay - if he's allowed to kiss and touch anyway he wants, if he has the same permission.] Can we do more of that?

Will you make me feel that way again?

Of course.

[ He can see it now, how Credence is budding, starting to shed the rigid confines of his mother's instruction -- having had a taste of sex and how good it feels, he's developing a desire for more of it, and Graves cannot be more pleased. Oblivious to the stirrings of that fierce jealousy, he cups his husband's face and guides him close to his, a faint nod signalling his approval. He will coax Credence forward, show him that theirs is a relationship that can go both ways -- he can kiss, touch, and be kissed and touched in return. ] We can do it all day and all night, if you want. Have you take me inside your mouth, your lovely, tight little ass for hours.

[ He leans forward to kiss his mouth briefly, his hand sliding under Credence's robes, into trousers, a finger rubbing between the crease of pert, firm cheeks. ] I'm going to make you feel so much more. [ He smiles, lazy, predatory. ] Take your clothes off, my love.

[ Right here in this grand, empty throne room. ]

[Credence presses his mouth to the corner of Graves', now that he has permission, fingers feather-light against his cheeks, jaw. He stills, eyes wide as he leans back to process the dirty, filthy things spilling from his King's beautiful lips.]

Yeah? [He huffs out shakily, pressing another kiss, and another.] I mean, yes. I want all of that.

[A quiet whine echoes through the room, causing his face to flush and body to warm from head to toe - that was him, he made that sound. He hears the command, feels the lazy smile against his own, but he doesn't actually want to move off Percival's lap to get undressed. Frowning, almost pouting, he slides off his lap to hastily remove his clothes.]

Do you think anyone will come in, sir?

[When he's naked, any insecurities are washed out by the fear of someone seeing them together like this. He balances his palms on Graves' knees, leaning in but not climbing back up yet.]

What if they do? [ They won't -- not without their king's summons, no matter what, but Graves likes teasing his new, shy husband, his dark eyes gleaming with dangerous temptation as he watches him strip, that pale, lean, beautifully crafted body dotted with finger-shaped bruises from last night, especially where those exquisite hipbones are concerned.

Graves remembers how he fucked him, how good he is, how tight and willing and so damn eager, and he's certain Credence is at least thinking about it as well -- look at how he turns a lovely shade of rose, how naked he is, and he leans up to kiss his mouth softly. ] They will see their King claim his beautiful, beautiful consort. They will see how exquisite the royal Consort is when he's naked and greedy to be fucked by his husband. [ His voice lowers, smooth and velvet. ] They might even wish to be the ones to get to fuck him.

[Credence listens attentively, mouth slightly ajar, frozen where he is and trying not to let the fact that he's now completely naked not only in a public meeting room but in front of his new husband deter his confidence.]

Beautiful?

[The word comes out shaky, broken. Even after hearing it from his King already, it's so new and unusual. It makes him flush with pride and embarrassment. The rest of what he says sends a rush of pure want down his spine and his cock twitches, back arching lightly.

He moves then, desperate and confused by all the things he's feeling, climbing into Graves' lap to place his hands on either side of his face.]

They'll never have me. [His voice is firm, innocent even still. Credence presses their mouths together, eyes slipping shut.] I'm only yours.

Good.

[ Graves' approval is palpable; Credence is learning very quickly even if he's still apparently overwhelmed. He appreciates how his new husband is taking all of this in stride, even if it's very clearly overwhelming, and he has to smile at his expression, how he flushes crimson like he's both shy and proud at the same time.

Hands coming to rest on his waist, Graves' gaze hungry and admiring on every inch of him, he hums softly, a hand sliding between his legs to gently cup his balls. He's fondling them, playing with him, wanting to pleasure him. ] Your tight little hole, that's mine, too. It's made only for me, isn't it?

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