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Miska had been pleasantly surprised to find when he returned to Buda after his honeymoon that much more had changed than his own title.
Matthias's voice was graveled with need as he pounded into Miska, holding him by the hair, bowing his head and arching his back. "My dearest, my supreme count, my Miska…"
"Yes, thine own Miska…"
He had barely managed to give his obeisance on entering Matthias's presence when he had seen in his king's eye something new, or rather, not new, but deeper than ever before. On the pretense of giving a secret report, Matthias invited Miska into his private study and then was on him, kissing him hard, pulling him close to find that they both were needful. It had been the work of but a moment for Miska to be bent over Matthias's desk and fucked as he had always secretly wished and never thought possible.
The thick door blocked out all sound from the busy hallway, but even still, Miska bit back the harsh pants that tried to escape his throat. Matthias's always calm voice was broken, though, and he could not seem to keep to whispers.
"I have missed thee every day, sweet boy. Every day thinking to take Raven and ride to Aggtelky to take back what is mine!" Matthias reached down to take Miska's cock in hand, jerking him off roughly, almost painfully, though Miska simply reveled in the feeling of Matthias needing him like this. As he had been torn in needing Matthias even in those first days of his marriage.
He thought of Esther, even now, as he always thought of Matthias with her. He could only think of them both in the throes of passion. They were inextricably linked in his mind and in the desires of his cock.
Now, Matthias grunted and thrust hard into him, and with his climax, Miska spilled over his king's hand, the climax twisting painfully in his guts.
They hadn't even removed their clothes, just pushed down trousers and pulled up tunics and dolmany.
As they cleaned up, Matthias watched Miska with the same deep, hungry look in his eye. "I'll visit thee tonight. Unless thou brought Esther?"
Miska shook his head. "No, she prefers not to come to Buda, being as she says, 'a simple country girl at heart'. So, I have no one who will object to a visit." He frowned. "But, Mr. King, is it not a sin with Esther as my wife? I do love her, though I love you as much, and just the same."
Matthias caught him with one hand around the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together, saying almost too much with his touch. "If thou canst resist it, please, Miska, tell me how thou dost it. I have wanted thee since I first saw thee outside Samson's castle, sin or no. I tried to give thee away and thou seest how that worked on my wanting. If Buda is where I can have thee, then Buda is where I will call thee when I can resist sense no longer."
Miska shook with those words and kissed him again, unable to say anything more than that he wanted just that.
When, a month later, Miska returned to Aggtelky, he arrived late enough in the night that Esther was already abed, though the steward told him that the countess wished him to visit her no matter the hour.
He quickly washed the road from himself and slipped into their bed, warm and fragrant with Esther's perfume. She stirred and stretched against him, fitting their bodies together as they often did, with his leg pressed to her sex and her arms wrapped around his neck so that her breasts pressed to his chest.
"Mm, thou hast come back to me, my love," she murmured sleepily. "I have missed thee."
Miska's lips caressed down her cheek to her throat and he whispered against her skin between words. "I have thought of thee endlessly, sweet Esther."
It was true, though he had been with Matthias every day, every spare moment spent in his arms or speared by his cock, he had never stopped thinking of Esther. Matthias took to teasing him about all the ways he could have him that Esther could not. It worked only to spur him on to his climaxes as he thought of how they might all fit together so perfectly that it did not matter if Esther could not fuck him like this or that.
Now she giggled as his lips tickled her throat. "Even with thy king?"
He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned as she stroked his hair. "Especially with my king. I fear I shall go to hell for all I've done, Esther."
She tipped his head up again and in the light from the low fire, he could see she was looking at him with concern. "My love, how could thou go to hell? God is good, but the king is better. He gave thee to me, and I cannot believe that if I give thee back to him sometimes, it is anything but a fair and holy thing, no matter what a hundred priests may say. How can it be a sin to love so deeply as we all do?"
Again, as he had with Matthias, he could only kiss her to show her she was right. In his mind, as he touched her, opening her with gentle fingers, she was him and he was Matthias, and he felt his cock harden so much that it hurt as it had with his need for Matthias. She was wet for him and panting by the time he rolled atop her and pressed inside. Her back arched, pressing herself against him, and urging him even deeper. He could not help fucking into her hard, and she clutched him, her legs wrapping around his hips.
Here, he could let out the depth of his wanting as loudly as he wanted, thinking again of how Matthias had fucked into him until he couldn't breathe, and with that memory, letting out the moan he had swallowed. He thought of Matthias's mouth on his cock, and panted hard through his thrusts into Esther.
She took up a litany of her own wordless cries of pleasure. She tightened around him with climax, but never let him go, never relaxed, never let him stop fucking into her, and when she looked up at him, he could feel just how she wanted him to take everything he had not been allowed in Buda.
He pulled back and turned her over onto her knees, fucking into her again how Matthias had most often fucked him.
Esther's back arched and as Miska pounded into her with the need of his king, she cried, "Oh, Mr. King!"
Miska could make it only a few more thrusts. He was Matthias and himself, and he was himself and Esther, and he could love them each, and they could love him.
Every thought and moment with them both pulled together into a tight ball inside him, perfect and shining and holy before suffusing his whole being with the rightness of their love.