It has been a long, long time since Yussa's done anything remotely like this. He's utterly undone and all he can do is pant for air, every breath edged with a moan. Even in toying with himself, Yussa cannot remember a time when he's felt quite like this. He can hear the slick sound of Caleb's fingers in his cunt, rocking in and out of him to match the pace he sets with his hips. He's wet and aching even as full as he is, stretched around his lover's clever fingers and his beautiful cock, and the satisfaction he feels fills the air between them.

If this were not enough, the way Caleb talks to him makes him utterly delirious. His mind flies ahead with fevered imaginings, making vivid fantasies out of what his lover purrs obscenity. He imagines Caleb at his back, just as his is now, with some unknown other taking his cunt. He doesn't know if it's the Feywild or his own delirious state of arousal, but Yussa finds he isn't opposed to the idea. Feeling the way he does now, he think he would agree to anything this man suggests.

There is something utterly debauched in the fantasy of being used like this in front of another, in the mere possibility of allowing someone else beyond his current lover to see him taken apart and offered up like a prize. To know that regardless of who else fucks him under Caleb's watch, this man is the one who gets everything else he has to offer.

The archmage clenches around his lover's fingers and his cock as Caleb grinds hard against him, pushing deep and whispering his claim. Yussa shivers almost violently beneath Caleb as he comes, hips moving weakly but urgently between the other man's fingers and his cock, thighs shaking as the mind-numbing pleasure crashes through him.