Not exactly mature but somewhat not for kids under 18.
And they lived long and happily in their little world, in
the peaceful bliss of a flower estate...
Yeah, right, as happily ever after as it could be. And exceptionally peacefully. If one could find peace when this walking temptation sits on a bench in front of the workshop windows and licks chamomile syrup from his wrist, getting himself sweet and sticky.
Damn it! For fuck’s sake! In a fit of indignation, Celtiel splashed all the colors together and ruined the painting for the fifth time in a row. My skin will come off if I’d be taking a bath so many times per day. An icy bath.
For as long as Celtiel could remember, abstinence had never been so difficult for him. All these years after the death of his spouse, he never once wanted to find a replacement for him. This was ruled out. He couldn't fall in love again. There was no desire to love, care, possess, and surrender. Sometimes he got tired of living, not to mention seeking any relationships, but here he was.
Clearly, it wasn't the best decision to start a relationship with bodily
pleasures. Barely realizing his feelings, revealing them to Arnel, Celtiel
needed some time to get used to the romantic mood. Moreover, he understood that
the Nature magician was not quite ready yet. And in general, there was a
suspicion that the passion object of Mr. Caro was completely innocent and
absolutely virtuous. Therefore, for the whole month all the newly-made couple
did was working their lips, stealing kisses from each other. At first, only
gentle and chaste. On the grass near the fountain, or in the kitchen in the
presence of Tealina or some other servant; this, of course, was Celtiel’s
doings, to amuse his pride with a bright blush on the young elf’s cheekbones,
or late in the evenings while wishing each other goodnight. By the way, to the
great joy of both, Arnel now lived in the same wing of the estate that the
owner did. Sometimes they even fell asleep in an embrace, sitting for a long
time reading by the fireplace.
The first time, Mr. Caro broke off a week later, trapping Arnel, who was keen on searching for a book sticking out the tip of his tongue, in the narrow aisle between the library shelves. Firmly squeezing a slender flexible body in his arms, he could not stand the soft groans of the elf caressing his ears and invaded Arnel’s hot mouth with his tongue, conquering and subjugating new territory. He crumpled those plump and sweet lips, tormented his clothes with impatient hands, waking up from obsession only when he felt that the elf in his hands began to sink to the floor. Assessing the result of his passion with an unclouded look, he concluded that all of Arnel’s vital signs were normal; he just got short of air overwhelmed by Caro’s actions. He tidied himself up, straightened the gardener’s tunic, and dragged him away to dinner. He couldn’t let him lose consciousness from kisses.
After that, Celtiel's sanity was demolished every week. Once
after Arnel showed courage and puckered up for a kiss,
and teased with his tongue in the process. Another time Celtiel caught the guy
changing after particularly dusty gardening. The sight of Arnel, dressed only
in trousers, with wet hair stuck to his back, did not leave him cold-blooded,
and the Water mage firmly clung to the thin neck of the elf who squeaked in
surprise. Having covered all his shoulders with soft kisses, he was ready to
get to Arnel’s chest but then he again miraculously regained his composure,
kissed the victim on the forehead, and rushed away “to finish a deadly urgent
task he forgot to do since yesterday”, leaving Arnel breathing heavily and dazedly
flapping his eyelashes.
And now this damned syrup!
***
Arnel was tormented by the thoughts of a directly opposite nature. Why in the world is Celtiel holding back so obstinately? What’s stopping him all the time? At first, the Nature magician feared that the Water mage was mistaken and that he was not overwhelmed by such strong feelings as he told he was. Or he looked closer and realized that Arnel was not so attractive. But over time, he saw a lot of evidence to the contrary. Gentle glances that followed him stealthily and openly, frequent touches, hugs, kisses, weightless at first, but more passionate each next time. A couple of times he even felt a sign of his master’s arousal with his thigh. A persistent solid sign that was. Oh ... but how can he let Celtiel know that he shouldn’t be so cautious around Arnel. Yes, it just so happened that Arnel did not know the actual physical love, however, he was not a small child anymore!
After confessing to complicity with Rie, as the master of the estate calls his deceased spouse, the two of them visited Niala to find out how the Seed’s condition is and inquire about things that worried them. Celtiel, in particular, wondered if there was a time limit for when a Seed of Life should be fertilized. The healer replied that there are absolutely no restrictions; the main thing is that the carrier does not get sick and does not cease to stress and magical exhaustion.
“If I’d known better, I would’ve conspired with her in advance so that she’d voice him the deadline! Now I will die as a virgin. Silly Celly, I can see how much he wants me. Moreover, I really want him too,” bursting with a blush, thought Arnel at dinner.
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