His silence must’ve tweaked something in the man’s thoughts, for when Darshan met his gaze again, those hazel eyes were clouded with concern. “You have actually done it this way before? I am willing to ride you.” His hand, slightly slick with tepid oil, caressed Hamish’s length. “If that is what you would prefer?”
Hamish flopped his head back onto the bed. There hadn’t ever been any other way. It would always be him bent over a crate or barrel in the shadows of some pub storeroom, trying not to cry out as some random, and usually drunk, man took him whilst he scraped together what small amounts of pleasure he could from the act. “This way is fine.” He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he had full control of the act.
“Well, seeing that we, apparently, do it a little differently in Udynea.” Darshan offered up a small, lopsided smile as his hand snaked from Hamish’s length to slide between his buttocks. “I am afraid you shall have to indulge me here.”
“Aye?” he breathed. Already, he felt the man’s oil-slick finger gently circling his point of entry. Oddly pleasurable. Taking a deep breath, he sought to relax, despite the faint tremor of hesitancy in his gut. “Then indulge away.”
With his gaze set on Hamish’s face, the spellster pushed his finger in. The slide was slow but sure, meticulous in execution. There was a familiar whisper, the faintest echo of an ache that vanished as Darshan slid in and out. “You certainly were not jesting about it being years for you.” His free hand stroked Hamish’s length in tandem.
Hamish mumbled something, the words coming of their own accord rather than through any conscious effort. He could feel himself slipping on the gentle rhythm of those lean fingers sliding up his length whilst that single digit pushed in, only to have Darshan’s hand move down as his other withdrew. They could do no action other than this and he’d be more than content.
Before long, Darshan shifted the finger inside him, changing the angle. A soft frown tweaked his brow. His gaze lifted from the silent, passive survey of Hamish’s face to the wall, then the ceiling as he bit his lip.
Hamish lifted his head, trying to see something beyond the man’s shoulders to no avail. “What are you doing?” The words escaped slurred.
Darshan’s attention returned to him, a faint flush of red tingeing his cheeks. “Trying to, um…” He changed the angle of his finger once more as it slid in. “Trying to find your… uh…” A different expression took his face. One Hamish had grown familiar with as Darshan sought out words to replace those he hadn’t been taught. “…your spot?”
“Me spot?” he echoed, chuckling. There was only one spot he’d been taught about and he doubted he had one of those. “I’m pretty sure I dinnae have a spo—” The word melted into a groan that sucked the air from his lungs. Flecks of light glittered in front of his eyes. Warmth suffused him.
The man’s low snicker filled his ears. “Found it, have I?”
Hamish mumbled words that he was certain were of the affirmative kind. He tipped his head back onto the pillow, his hips rocking ever so slightly against Darshan’s hand. Whatever magic the spellster wrought, it was good.
The finger moved again, pulling back. He felt stretched. Although pleasurable, each gentle shift of that digit also carried a methodical air about it. Was this what Darshan had meant by preparing him? Not just the oil to ease entry, but allowing him the time and means to relax and be ready for something bigger?
“Hold a moment.” Darshan held out his hand and the bottle of oil flew into his grasp. Prising the cork free with his teeth, he poured more out.
Hamish shivered as the cool oil hit his skin, leaving a trail from his balls to where—
Was that another finger seeking entry? He wriggled, testing the feeling. Definitely extra pressure.
“I see we are eager for more,” Darshan purred. He moved his finger, sliding it in a half-circle around the one still in Hamish. “Do you think you could handle it?”
Hamish’s breath shuddered from him. That question, the silken honey tone of the man’s voice. He wasn’t certain if he could actually go over the edge with Darshan’s current actions, but if that tone continued he might be capable of it.
“ ‘Mish? Are—” A flicker of uncertainty seemed to slap across the man’s face. “Can I call you that?”
He nodded, his body bouncing as he struggled to contain a laugh. Why would he mind his name being shortened? Of all the daft things to concern himself with at this moment. Maybe it was different in Udynea. He hadn’t taken much interest in politics to bother with the minutiae, but now wasn’t the time. “Dar,” he gasped between breaths. “More.”
Those hazel eyes, so focused only moments ago, slid closed. Darshan bit his lip and bowed his head. A faint gust of the man’s breath hit Hamish’s stomach. A groan?
Hamish levered himself up onto his elbows. As pleasant as it had been, they must have gone on long enough with this preparation. He clasped the man’s shoulder, squeezing just enough to ensure Darshan didn’t mistake it for him seeking the removal of the spellster’s presence. “Dar?”
Darshan’s eyes flicked open, that dark gaze locking with Hamish’s. Lust burned in their depths. Only now did Hamish notice how Darshan’s breath rasped. “Are you certain you will last long enough?” His languid strokes along Hamish’s length grew stronger, rougher.
It pulled a throaty moan from him. Hamish tipped back his head, trying to find the will to stop Darshan and failing. His hips bucked with each down stroke. The edge wasn’t that close, but if the man kept it up… “Please,” he managed.
“Please what?” Darshan murmured, lifting Hamish’s hand off his
