Not Theirs Yet
themagiciansarcana:
With Beau’s hand on the back of his neck, Percival arched into that grounding touch. His spine bowed, baring his throat in the process. Whatever needy sounds fell from his lips moments before were replaced by an equally needy, but also satisfied purr. As if Percival had to be controlled or tamed to some degree. As if too much freedom was still too overwhelming.
The rhythm of his hips faltered with Beau’s permission, another manner in which his control slipped. He quaked as Beau fucked him still so perfectly despite it. Limbs tingling, Percival struggled to focus on anything beyond the pleasure coiling his already taxed, aching muscles, knot he rode as if it was made for him, or the heartbreakingly perfect alpha beneath him, let alone string a sentence together to answer said alpha’s question.
He tried, regardless, “I-I need–” But he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he needed or why he was asking permission. He wanted to come so badly, he might as well have still been in heat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had without having permission. Perhaps he managed convey as much to Beau, but he isn’t certain he’s successful; there’s little more to him that sheer pleasure, a flood of omega hormones, and the cloying need to be a good omega for his alpha. And he wanted to make Beau come too.
Once again, Beau’s eyes were drawn away from Percival’s face and to that stretch of unmarred flesh where his shoulder met his throat as Percival bared it to him. That small space that remained untouched amidst the multitude of injuries and scars littering his skin. As though even Gellert Grindelwald–the infamous Thuban Hollows–could not leave a mark there if such a mark was not meant to claim the beautiful Omega who Beau now held within the circle of his wings. He could be the one to mark that space. He could make Percival his for good and all, make sure no other Alpha ever got the chance to. He could–
Mother Sun and Father Sky, this was getting ridiculous!
Did Percival have some sort of magic in his bloodline? Some sort of siren song inherent in him that had ensnared Beau like this?
Why could he not stop his mind from incessantly wandering down that path which would surely be his destruction should he follow it so soon?
And, oh, he could smell how close Percival was to reaching his peak. He could feel how tightly the Omega’s muscles coiled beneath his palm. “Ah, so that’s what you want…” Truth be told, he was close to reaching his own peak. It had snuck up on him, so focused was he on Percival. “Come for me, little Omega,” he purred. “Come for me, Percy.”
Such generous permission given with such a sensual purr slithered down Percival’s spine, properly sending him to pathetic shivers. His breath hitched, like his lungs couldn’t keep up with his racing heart, and he carded shaking fingers through Beau’s golden hair. A moment later, those tightly coiled muscles and that desperate need both snapped.
Percival shuddered as he came, curling in on himself, and pressing desperately against Beau for warm alpha safe. His moans and pleas pressed hotly against Beau’s throat, where he to tucked his face to fall apart. The arm supporting his weight trembles with fatigue, but his hips don’t stop moving despite his overwhelmed senses. The orgasm wasn’t enough. No, he needed to know his alpha was satisfied as well. He scented Beau as the intensity of sensation wanes, but his need isn’t quenched.
The pieces of Percival’s shattered reason were not available to be collected quite yet. With insatiable desire like heat, Percival wanted more from his beautiful alpha.
