Page 40 of Fox of Fox Hall

“Of course I’m looking at you.” Fox gesturedemphatically at Conall and all that he was. “You massaged my feet!I’m in your bed! I have these,” he grabbed a handful of curlingrags, “on my head and you still look at me as if you’d like to beinside me.”

“Well, I would,” Conall admitted frankly.

Fox was half a second away from screaming at himbefore the words sank in. He heaved a breath and sat there, doingnothing more than tightening his hands on his thighs to inch hisnightshirt up higher. “You’re staring,” he murmured, fully aware ofwhat he was doing.

Conall shifted to sit straighter, the headboardat his back, and took his time looking up from what Fox wasrevealing. “Come here.”

Fox affected a shocked look. “With me likethis?”

“With you however you please.” As usual, Conalldidn’t hesitate and struck hard enough to leave Fox breathless.“I’d breed you if you asked, Fox.” His interest grew hotter whenFox sputtered. They had nearly done that already. Fox’s mouth movedbut he made no sounds. He imagined Conall rutting into him forhours and blushed so hot his freckles would stand out. Conallclearly enjoyed watching him imagine it. “Although perhaps nottonight,” Conall continued when Fox couldn’t get a word out. “I’llneed my strength tomorrow.”

A breeding was a thing from a story. Not the actitself—anyone might fuck, obviously. Anyone hoping for childrenmight fuck a lot. But not many called it that.A breedingmade acts done in bed sound ancient, like the rituals stillperformed for seasons passing or holidays even though no one knewwhat most of them meant. Many people were receptive and many otherswere also inclined to be bearers. Domvoda was supposed to be wooingsome of them. But he’d been as startled as Fox was now when Fox hadsuggested a mating for him, as though a mating and a breedingweren’t similar. The act, but done with intent. Withfeeling. A bond, even if only for the mutual goal of makingyoung. Fox wasn’t even certain what the exact difference wasbetween a breeding and a mating when someone said it that way.

People in passion songs and old adventurestories didn’t just fuck, they had matings. They hadbreedings, outdated as that seemed. The termbreedingeven offended some, although Fox suspected a play-breeding pleasedmany more people than would admit to it.

“I’m not a byr.” Fox finally managed an answerand it was irrelevant nonsense Conall knew already. “No one wouldever…. I know you’re teasing me, and I….” He didn’t finish becauseConall didn’t jump in to agree. “A breeding,” it emergedwhisper-soft, “has never been proposed to me for good reason. Inaddition to everything unsuitable about me, I have no desire to bea bearer. Unless you meant merely the act of being bred… Not‘merely,’” Fox amended and dropped his nightshirt to hide his facebehind his hands. “You already did that to me. The firstnight.”

“You think so?” Conall’s voice was deadlyquiet.

Fox peered at Conall from between his fingersbefore slowly lowering his hands. He wet his lips. “I supposeyou’re correct. All those times you knotted me wasn’t to breed me.That wouldn’t have been enough.” At least according to all thesongs and what Fox heard from others. “It’s more than that. Morefucks. Moreknots.”

“True,” Conall said, continuing to steal Fox’sbreath. “You should be so full of seed you’re barely able to moveafter. Not that you could, because I’d keep you still to make sureit takes. To make sure it’s just me inside you.”

Fox’s toes curled. “You’ll need your strengthtomorrow,” he reminded Conall faintly, then came to his sensesenough to crawl over Conall’s legs into his lap. His wet wouldprobably ruin Conall’s breeches. He didn’t care. Conall had startedthis. He could deal with the mess.

As if he didn’t mind Fox on his lap or the dripof warm slick from Fox now seeping into his clothes, Conall settledhis hands at Fox’s hips, which left Fox free to arch up and reachbetween his legs to tease himself.

The nightshirt impeded Conall’s view. Conall hadit bunched up within moments, then stopped to frown when Foxswatted his hands away.

“Taking it off now will mess up my hair,” Foxscolded even as he leaned forward to nuzzle Conall’s chin and thenfind his mouth. “But you got me so wet,” he pouted against Conall’slips. He circled his hole with two fingers to gather some of theslick that said Fox would very much like Conall to play-breed himand then pushed his fingers inside. His gasp made Conall tightenhis hold.

Beneath the nightshirt, Conall’s hands were hotas they urged Fox’s thighs farther apart and then spread Fox open.He left Fox to pleasure himself. But not for long, not if Fox hadhis way.

“Perhaps,” Fox offered coyly, as though hewasn’t teasing himself where Conall couldn’t see so that he’d beslick and ready to be knotted without any more fuss, “if youwin….”

The ‘if’ made Conall grunt.

Fox bit Conall’s lower lip for that and gaspedfor the work of his own fingers, then continued in a breathlesswhisper. “If you win, you can play-breed me.” Another grunt,another gush around Fox’s fingers, and then a smug heat all throughFox’s chest. “I can almost feel the weight inside me,” he added,pulling his fingers out so he could run them up the length of hiscock.

His wet had soaked into Conall’s breechesalready, so there was no reason not to open them so Fox could alsouse his slick fingers on Conall’s cock. He gave the head asqueeze—light, nothing to what his body would do when Conall pinnedhim down and fucked him and filled him and fucked him again, thencurled his fingers to stroke all the way down. There, he stopped,his gaze flying up to Conall’s face.

The knot was more than half formed, thick andhot, the skin tight.

Conall bared his teeth, a snarl without anyforce behind it. Fox thought Conall might have been embarrassedthough he couldn’t imagine why.

“You’re that close to a full knot already fromthe idea of play-breeding me?” Fox demanded, well, croaked really,before pumping that half-knot to draw another grunt from Conall.Conall, stubbornly, wasn’t speaking.

Fox sat up, pressing their foreheads together,then putting his open mouth to Conall’s until it softened for Foxto kiss him properly. The kiss helped him remember where he was,that he had rags in his hair and Conall was still dressed. Therewas a tournament in the morning. They could not spend the nightdoing what he now ached to do.

“I want it too,” he confessed, sighing in reliefwhen Conall relented enough to kiss him back. One kiss with Conallalways turned into more, although Fox couldn’t seem to mind.Neither did he mind the press of Conall’s fingertips in his skinand the faint scent of the various creams between them. “Perhaps Ishould make you wait, not allow you anything except to use yourhands or mouth on me.” He squirmed for his own words. “Days, aweek, of leaving you hard but not letting you spend so there willbe more for me when you finally do.”

Conall turned his head to breathe heavily.

A thrill went down Fox’s spine. “You can beg,”he allowed generously, “as you’re keeping my hole open with yourfist or filling me with your tongue. I’ll be aching for it too.” Headded that in a whisper, kissing Conall’s stiff jaw until Conallturned back to him. “Desperate to get your cock and your knot,Conall. Your seed. So much I won’t be able to keep it all. Somewill slip out.”

“No,” Conall objected, bruising Fox in away that increased Fox’s shivers.

“You don’t want any to escape?” Fox cooedsympathetically, pausing to stroke the side of Conall’s face. “Youwant me to stay filled? Plump and sated with so much of your spendinside me? Keep me sealed tight with your knot until I feel so goodI can’t even come anymore?”

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