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I brought two mugs of steaming coffee into the study, knowing he’d appreciate a cup. It was a quiet night, and with the storm outside, Karazhan was chilly. I’d swapped out of my everyday robes into a more comfortable set, with a wide neck, that I’d had for many years. Terribly out of fashion, but warm and cozy. And exactly what I needed for what I had planned.
“Thanks,” Medivh said, taking the coffee and going back to his book. I stepped around his large desk, settling into an armchair with my mug, content to watch him. He absently pushed his dark hair back with black lacquered nails, turned a page. While he read, he was still, and I took him in: broad shoulders, long fingers, strong features.
A week had passed since I had returned from Dalaran. A week of waking up with him, in his bed. Our bed now, I supposed. I found I looked forward to bed, instead of staying up until exhaustion claimed me. Waking up in his arms was becoming familiar, and well, I was quickly learning that there were many things we’d both wanted, but were too shy to ask of each other. Mornings were now my favorite time of the day.
“You’re staring,” he said, turning another page.
“Guilty as charged.” I sipped from my cup.
“Is your collar too tight?”
“What?” I realized I’d been playing with the silver band and dropped my hand. “Oh, no.”
“I can adjust it, if you need larger.”
“It’s fine, I was just thinking.”
“About?”
I smiled. “Oh, this morning.”
That got him to glance up. “That was nice.”
I finished my coffee and stood. Walking back around his desk, I leaned on it, setting one hip on the sturdy wood and bracing my hands. “It was very nice.”
He shut the book, set it aside, and looked up at me, green eyes pensive. “I get the impression you want something.”
“Perhaps.”
I reached out a hand, tracing down his cheek. He pressed into the touch, closing his eyes. His skin was warm and smooth beneath my hand, giving way to stubble from the day. I traced his jaw, then down his neck, leaning forward as I did.
He opened his eyes, murmuring a spell I knew well. “That robe shows your feathers, Young Trust.”
I shrugged. “It’s comfortable. You’re the only one who would look.”
A raised eyebrow was all the response I received, at first. Then he traced the path where he’d placed the mantle weeks before. I shivered at the light touch.
“Kneel,” came the quiet command.
I did, robes pooling around me, the rug scratchy under my knees. He took my face in his hands, moving across my brows, my cheekbones, my jaw. I shut my eyes, enjoying those warm hands on my skin.
When his lips touched mine, I sighed and melted into him. He took his time, kissing me leisurely, and I wrapped my arms about him, slotting myself between his legs. By the time his mouth was on my neck, kissing around my collar, I was panting, aching with a need I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Medivh, please,” I whimpered, as he found a particularly sensitive spot and sucked.
“Please what?”
“I want-” I broke off with a groan when he bit down.
For long moments I was incoherent, head resting on his broad shoulder, breathing ragged, eyes closed. Overwhelmed by scent and touch and his sheer presence.
“What to you want, Young Trust?”
“I want more. I want you,” I whispered, speaking the unspeakable.
His hands worked at the clasps on my shoulders, undoing them. My robe began to slip down.
“Stand and show yourself to me.”
I stood, robe falling to a heap on the floor. I wore nothing underneath.
He sat back, looking me over. I fought the urge to cover myself, to pull the robe up, to hide my obvious desire.
“Turn.”
I turned away, grateful to not meet his vivid green gaze. I stared into the fireplace, waiting.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Strong hands gripped my hips, moving me forward. He stood behind me, breath hot. His robes brushed against my bare skin, lighting it on fire.
I opened my mouth to say something, but his hand came up, covering it. Warm lips kissed my neck, my shoulder, and I sagged into his touch, my head tilting to allow him more access.
“That’s better,” he murmured, moving his hand, dropping it to my collar. He ran his fingers along the band, touching the skin above and below. I realized I was starting to pant, to whimper with each brush.
“Are you offering yourself to me, Young Trust?”
The words were silky in my ear, and made a rush of desire fill me.
“Yes,” I breathed.
The stroking of my neck stopped.
“Yes?” He sounded faintly disappointed.
“Yes, Master,” I amended, catching on. A thrill raced through me, settling deep in my belly.
“Better.” The hand holding my hip moved, reaching inward. I held my breath as he reached for me. Not for the first time, but the first time outside of the bed, while I was exposed. He grasped my cock, and I felt my knees weaken. It took a supreme act of will to stay upright.
“You will let me do as I wish, and will do what I say?”
“Yes, Master.” He squeezed me as I answered, and the words came out strangled.
He chuckled. “And if I wished to take you here, on my study desk, you would consent?”
I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. My breathing was ragged, knees weak, and I ached all over for more of his touch.
He allowed me a moment, before tracing my collar again. I groaned. “Young Trust, I require an answer. Would I have your consent?”
“Please.” A pause. “Please, Master.”
He growled behind me, deep, feral. His hands moved to my shoulders, pushing me forward, bending me over the desk. I put my hands out, catching myself, cushioning my fall. He pressed my chest down, covering me with his broad frame. I could feel his erection pressing against me, and I let out a moan.
“You would let me take you here, like this?” Medivh said in my ear, breath hot. I moved back against him, an unspoken invitation in my actions. He laughed, low and throaty, making my skin tingle. “Very well.”
Then he was off me, and then the rustle of his robe. I risked a peek over my shoulder and saw him tossing his outer robes on the arm of the chair he’d been sitting in. He caught me looking, and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Impatient, Young Trust?”
Embarrassed, I looked away.
“I will forgo undressing completely, for you.”
I heard him adjusting his clothing, but I didn’t dare glance again. Me cheeks and ears were burning, and the urge to crawl under the desk was almost overwhelming.
Light touches to my back and ass told me he was back, and I tried to relax into them. His caress was magical.
“Your skin is soft, even with the scars.” He moved one hand to my hip. “I could touch you all night, but I don’t think you could handle it.”
I slid back on the surface, craving more. He stopped me with a slap on my ass. I yelped.
“Oh no, you are to stay put. You did offer yourself to me, or have you forgotten already?”
“No, Master,” I said, sliding back up.
“That’s better. You look handsome all flushed. I want to see how far it will travel.” He ran his hand down my back and I pushed into it, craving the touch. I felt his hand move down my spine, then lower, reaching between my legs. I gasped and spread wider.
“Good, stay like that for me,” he praised, hand moving, stroking gently. I pressed my cheek into the desk, panting. A murmured spell, then his other hand brushed against me as well. It brought a sensation of cool and slick, and his hands moved freely, touching and caressing me everywhere, coaxing moans and gasps and noises I wasn’t aware I could make out of me. I reached for the far side, gripping the edge, desperate for something to hold on to. If it hadn’t been supporting me, I would have collapsed, my knees were too weak to support myself.
“You blush so nicely, it goes all the way down,” Medivh murmured, hands still working. I could hardly tell where he was touching, everything tingled and it felt like he was everywhere and nowhere, all at once. No spellwork, just overload.
“Master, please!”
“And you beg so prettily. I suppose I might indulge you.”
He pulled away, and I heard the rustle of his clothes, the sound of his breathing, much heavier now, behind me. I risked another glance back, just a moment, and saw his face, as flushed as mine felt. Satisfaction settled deep in me. For all his cool words, this was getting to him too.
He was stroking me again, and rational thought fled. I felt his hands, slick, touching me, and then heat and hardness. The sensation a long forgotten one, but welcome. I relaxed, and let him take control. I had agreed to this, I would submit.
Discomfort turned to acceptance, which turned to pleasure, all as he stroked my skin and murmured reassuringly to me. I didn’t understand the words, but the tone was clear. When he was fully in me, I released my hold on the desk with one hand, reaching back blindly. He clasped my hand, squeezing, then let go.
He began to move, slowly and gently at first, giving me time to adjust, to warn him if something hurt, but there was no need. I was drowning in desire, stoked by his touch, his thrusts, his murmured words. There was only us.
We moved together, in sync if this had been our hundredth time instead of the first. Had it been anyone else, I would have hesitated at the word perfect, but not with Medivh.
He pulled away, causing me to utter a protest. Strong hands pull me up, turning me around. “Face me, I want to see you,” he said.
My legs were weak, but I did as he asked, using the edge of the desk for support. It took some positioning, but soon he was back in me, arms holding me close.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying to keep him as near as I could as we moved. My head was back, eyes closed, and my breathing was ragged, but I couldn’t get enough. I had wanted this for so long, and had never thought it would happen.
“So good,” I murmured, running my hand through his dark hair.
“Yes,” he agreed, burying his face in my neck. I felt him place an open mouthed kiss on my shoulder, hot and wet, and groaned.
“Master, please.”
He thrust harder, leaving me breathless. I clung to him, feeling us brush together, his clothes rubbing against me. I was so sensitive, it was a wonder I hadn’t found my release yet. I kissed his neck, the side of his face, his lips, all in a frenzy.
“What do you want, Young Trust?” he asked, between my kisses.
“I want to come, Master.”
“Then do so.” And somehow, that was what it took. I climaxed in his arms, crying out. As I tightened my fingers in his hair he moaned low and stilled, deep in me.
I think, without the desk supporting us, we would have fallen. As it was, after a long moment, He sagged back, collapsing in his chair, and I slumped onto the surface. We stayed like that for long moments, both dazed and dizzy, staring at each other.
He finally reached out to me, offering me a hand. I moved to take it, but my legs shook so badly I ended up on the floor at his feet. Laughing at myself, I chose to get comfortable there, against him. He wiggled a bit, pulling his robe loose, and carefully draped it over me. I snuggled into it, enjoying the familiar smell of him. Laying my head on his leg, I closed my eyes and relaxed.
“How are you, Young Trust?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine. Are you all right, Master?”
There was a long pause. I had almost decided to look up, when I felt fingers in my hair, stroking lightly.
“I am now. Thank you.”
I had nearly fallen asleep on his knee, when he spoke again.
“Perhaps we should make it an early evening.”
I rose, and offering an arm to him. He got to his feet slowly, obviously tired, and picked up his robe from the floor. I put mine back on, and we headed to the bedchamber, neither of us in a hurry.
Once there, I washed up, crawled into bed, pulling the covers up. Medivh took his time, and I was close to sleep by the time I felt him settle in. I moved closer, snuggling up against him, tucking one arm around his slim hips. Fingers played through my hair, reminding me I needed it cut.
“Night,” I mumbled, right on the edge of sleep. “Love you.”
He stilled beneath me, and that roused my from my sleepy haze. I lifted my head, looking at him.
“Medivh?”
He turned towards me. His eyes had the fine sheen of tears. He touched my cheek, so softly, moving to kiss me.
“I love you too, Khadgar.”