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Arthur’s discovery had happened by accident.
He’d only intended to drag Merlin into bed for a lazy morning snog. The slow sort of indulgence that made the idea of being awake at the crack of dawn just a bit more tolerable.
He hadn’t meant for anything more.
Really, he hadn’t.
Right up until he’d kissed down the line of Merlin’s throat and pushed the neckerchief aside, licking at the juncture of neck and shoulder.
Merlin went stiff in his arms, let out a choked gasp, and arched up into Arthur with a violent tremor. Arthur yelped in surprise and lifted off Merlin’s body, reflexively scanning Merlin’s body for injury.
He didn’t find one.
What he did find was Merlin panting, eyes squeezed shut, and face flushed as he clamped a hand protectively over his neck. Precisely over the spot Arthur had just licked.
The realization of what just happened had his mouth dropping open in shock.
“Merlin… did you just come!?”
Merlin’s face was scarlet. He shoved at Arthur’s chest, mortified and trying to wriggle out of his King’s grasp.
“No!” but the denial came out too fast and too high pitched to be genuine. A lie, Arthur was certain of it.
Merlin clearly realized he was caught, so he switched tracks. “Don’t! Don’t say anything!”
Arthur’s lips spread in a slow, wolfish grin. “You came just from that?”
He leaned his weight on one arm and used the other to capture Merlin’s wrists, pulling them away from where they still pushed at his shoulders and pinning them to the sheets above Merlin’s head.
“Is that why you always wear that unbelievably hideous neckerchief?”
Arthur dipped his head lower, nosing the fabric fully out of the way.
“Hey! My mother made me that—” His indignant words cut off with an absolute wail when Arthur sealed his lips back on the juncture of Merlin’s neck and shoulder. His hips jerked up despite himself, and then he was shuddering through another climax, so quick it bordered on impossible.
Arthur laughed, low and delighted. “Good God, Merlin. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me!”
Merlin groaned, though Arthur couldn’t quite tell if it was from the aftershocks of pleasure or from mortification.
Probably the latter, judging by the way his manservant wouldn’t look him in the eyes and by the bright red flush that painted his skin a pretty pink shade.
Arthur tipped his face back down, reaching, but Merlin shrieked at him, twisting to the side and bringing his shoulders up to protect his neck. “It’s not— I can’t! Please, Arthur—”
Arthur pouted but sat back up, resting his weight on his own heels instead of Merlin’s thighs. “Aww, come on, Merlin. You can’t let me have a bit of fun?”
His manservant hissed — hissed!? — at him and then bucked his hips up hard enough to topple Arthur over onto the mattress, freeing his wrists in the process.
Arthur wouldn’t have struggled to catch him again, but instead he chose to let Merlin scramble upright and away from the bed. His cheeks flamed as he tugged his neckerchief securely back into place and glared back at his king. Arthur just grinned back, admiring the picture his manservant painted.
“You’ll probably want to change your trousers before leaving, hmm?”
He met Merlin’s eyes and cast a pointed glance down at Merlin's crotch. Merlin blinked at him before following his gaze.
There was a large, notable darkening stain showing through his trousers. “Arthur—! Gods above, I hate you.”
Arthur just laughed at him, affected a leer, and looked pointedly at the wet spot, “You know, I really don’t think you do.” Then he pushed himself up into a half-sitting position and spread his thighs apart just a bit, “If you come back over here, I'll… help you get changed.”
Granted, he’d make the clothing dirtier first, but eventually he’d let the man be clean again.
Merlin shot him a betrayed look before snatching up a clean pair of Arthur’s trousers and bolting out the door, not even bothering to slam the wood shut as he fled. Presumably, he intended to duck into a closet or abandoned room instead of changing in Arthur’s chambers.
Shame.
He always liked watching change.
Oh well.
There was going to be plenty more opportunity in the coming days, Arthur would make certain of that.
He whistled cheerfully as he dressed.
Merlin apparently still hadn’t recovered enough by lunchtime to look Arthur in the eyes. One of the knights in training had received his official cloak today, so Arthur was obligated to attend the lunch feast, sitting at the head table and bestowing his official congratulations to Sir Lucan.
He tried to pay attention to his knights, their stories and jokes as they offered their own celebratory cheers.
But his attention was very firmly captured by his manservant, who seemed to be serving everyone but him.
And that just couldn’t be allowed.
The next time Merlin passed behind his chair, Arthur shot his hand out, catching him by the waist and reeling him in. Once he was within range, Arthur shifted his grip from his servant's waist to cup the back of his neck, pulling him down until they were face to face.
Merlin shuddered under his palm, and his eyes stayed averted.
Arthur tipped his half-empty goblet towards Merlin pointedly, “You know, Merlin, you’ve not been a very good servant today.”
That finally got Merlin to look at him, a sharp glare hardening his features. But still, he reached out his wine jug, pouring into Arthur’s goblet.
“Well, you’ve not been a very good master, have you?” Merlin hissed at him.
Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “On the contrary, I think I’ve been quite…giving.”
He dipped his fingertips beneath the fabric around Merlin’s neck, not pressing, just ghosting across the skin.
Except Merlin was so on edge that even such a small motion had him jerking, wine sloshed out of the pitcher and all over Arthur.
Arthur pushed his chair back, shooting to his feet and raising his voice in feigned outrage. “Merlin! You absolute dunce!”
The hall around them erupted in laughter. Arthur turned to his knights, displaying his wine-soaked tunic. “I apologize, it seems I must take my leave early. My utmost congratulations on your knighthood, Sir Lucan.”
Arthur had kept his grip on Merlin’s neck for the duration of their exchange and now used it to lever his manservant from the room.
Sir Gwaine paused them a few paces from the door, stepping into their path, “Hey, Princess, go easy on him. He looks a little peaky. I think he might need to go see Gaius.”
The knight picked up Merlin’s wrist and looked moments away from wrapping an arm around his manservant's waist.
Arthur slapped his hand away, pulling Merlin closer in to his side. “Thank you for your concern, Sir Gwaine. I’ll ensure he’s in perfect health. In fact, I'm on my way to take care of him, now.”
Sir Gwaine's eyebrows pinched, but Arthur just resumed walking, tugging Merlin with him and brushing by his knight on the way out.
Merlin twisted in his grasp, “Wait, Gwaine— don’t—” and then Arthur propelled him from the hall, kicking the heavy door shut behind them.
“Wait, Arthur, I really didn’t mean to— you can’t just—” Arthur pulled him several halls away before shoving him into an alcove, crowding his manservant back against the wall.
“You know, Merlin, you should give more thought to what you say.” He leaned into Merlin’s space, pressing their lips together. Merlin resisted him for several long moments, keeping his lips pressed together before he finally relented, allowing Arthur to slip his tongue into Merlin’s mouth.
He reached up to cradle Merlin’s neck with both hands, feeling the tendons go taught as the man went rigid beneath his hands. But he didn’t do anything else.
Not yet.
He just cupped either side of Merlin’s neck and kissed him until his manservant had gone soft and pliant, panting into his mouth and letting out tiny whimpers.
He tipped Merlin’s head back, kissing as deeply as he could, and then slipped a hand lower, digging his thumb in.
Merlin folded instantly, whining into Arthur’s mouth. His hands flew up, clutching at Arthur’s wrists.
He would have crumpled to the ground if Arthur hadn’t had a leg between his thighs supporting most of the slighter man’s weight.
His whine reached nearly painful levels as Arthur didn’t let up, kept digging his thumb into that same spot in little circles.
Arthur only finally relented when Merlin went quiet, head thrown back against the wall and mouth open in a silent cry. He pressed a few kisses to the corner of Merlin’s mouth, holding him up as he shook against Arthur’s body. “Gods, Merlin. You’re absolutely perfect.”
His manservant didn’t seem to hear him, glassy eyes rolling in their sockets.
Arthur just held him, supported his weight until he came back to himself, and managed to get his feet back under him.
Merlin’s eyes finally focused on him, sharpening into a slightly pitiful glare, “I loathe you.”
Arthur grinned back at him and shifted one hand down to pat at Merlin’s re-dampened groin, laughing when his manservant flinched away.
“You'd best get changed again and back to work.”
He released his manservant, stepping back and giving him room to escape from the wall.
Merlin stumbled away, walking with an odd gait and trousers soaked through. He looked utterly debauched. Arthur couldn’t help his grin as he watched Merlin make his escape. He’d only just held him, and already he couldn’t wait to get the man back in his arms.
Ah well. Merlin did deserve a break.
Just not a very long one.
By that night, Merlin’s nerves were utterly frayed. Despite his best efforts, Arthur had caught him twice more — once in the armory and once in the stables — and kissed his neck until he came again.
Gods, how he wished Arthur had never found out about that… oddity… of his.
By this point, his cock was soft and tender, and no spend could possibly be released, no matter how good it felt. His abdominal muscles were crampy and ached at the mere thought of another orgasm.
And yet he had little hope that he was safe.
He still had to attend to Arthur that evening, finishing up his chores in the king's chambers.
He could hope that Arthur had gone to bed, but… he knew better.
Sure enough, when he crept into the room that evening, Arthur was waiting up, sitting in a chair by the hearth and lounging in it like a fat cat that had been fed more than its fill.
Except he still looked hungry.
As soon as Merlin had the heavy door shut behind him, Arthur stood.
Merlin froze for a second as Arthur approached before snapping out of it, backing up several steps, and protectively clamping his hands over his neck — as though that might be enough, as though that might save him.
He darted sideways, putting the table between himself and his king.
“Arthur, please, I can’t. Not again.” His voice broke in his desperation. “Please, my cock is throbbing, I really can’t.”
Arthur just smirked.
Merlin glanced at the door, weighing his options. He could try making a break for it, but Arthur was both stronger and faster. Not to mention that he would probably just make his torment even worse.
Arthur caught the look and quickened his pace straight toward Merlin, not even bothering to circumvent the table and choosing instead to vault straight over it.
Merlin yelped a the action, backing away from his impending doom until his back struck the wall.
“Arthur—” Merlin whimpered, pressing himself flat against the stone, “I’m done. I swear. I really can’t give you anything more.”
Arthur closed the last of the distance, catching Merlin’s wrists and tugging them up and away. He hummed into Merlin’s ear, “can’t, hmm? For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
He shifted Merlin’s wrists to one hand, reaching down to tug Merlin’s neckerchief free. The fabric slid across his already bullied skin, dragging a shudder through his body.
Arthur’s eyes gleamed.
Merlin whimpered, trying again, “Don’t—please—don’t—” but that plea fell apart as Arthur crowded him into the wall, sealing his mouth to that sensitive stretch of skin.
Merlin screamed. His whole body convulsed, his hips jerking helplessly as his release tore through him, though this time his cock was spent, swollen, but it had nothing to give. It hurt. It hurt— but the pleasure stole through him anyway, leaving him gasping breathlessly.
Arthur pulled away for just a moment, “See? Looks to me like you can,” and then he dove back in.
Merlin didn’t even have the chance to plead before Arthur’s teeth sank into his tender flesh, and yet another dry orgasm stripped Merlin’s breath.
He would have been embarrassed by the pitiful whine that escaped his lips if he could have managed even to think.
Arthur grinned against his skin.
He tugged Merlin away from the wall, taking advantage of his dazed state to strip away first Merlin’s clothing, then his own. Then he took Merlin’s hand and pulled him towards the bed. Merlin could only groan.
Merlin lay sprawled naked on the sheets, utterly wrecked. Sweat cooled on his skin, sticky and uncomfortable.
His body felt as though it was carved from stone. His limbs refused to respond to any of his commands. Every muscle ached faintly, and there was a dull heat radiating out from his neck, where he was sure there were scores of bite marks and purple bruises.
And his groin.
Good Gods, his groin hurt.
It felt like his entire lower abdomen was one massive pulled muscle, desperate for rest. In a way, that's exactly what it was. Is it possible to pull a muscle in your cock? Merlin sure felt like it was. He never wanted to get hard again.
Arthur stretched out beside him, grinning smugly and admiring the artwork he’d made of Merlin’s neck. He traced a finger down a particularly large hickey. “Beautiful.”
Merlin just groaned in reply. He’d roll away if he could so much as twitch a finger. Alas, he could barely even roll his eyes right now, “I’m g’nna die… you’re g’nna kill me…”
Arthur laughed at him, leaning in to nip at his ear. “Mmm. Death by orgasm. Worse ways to go.”
Merlin mustered the strength to roll his head away, pressing his cheek to the pillow. Why the hell did he love this man?
Arthur just laughed again, petting across his ruined neck but mercifully — mercifully — avoiding those hellish erogenous zones that would instantly set him off.
“Go to sleep, Merlin.” He shifted a hand to brush the hair from Merlin’s eyes, “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
Merlin whimpered.