"No, you won't." It's immediate, firm, with that Alpha note of authority that harbors no room for arguments. Corrigan’s hands are still gentle in Kurt’s hair, braiding strands of it together to keep it out of their face, but there's a steely resolve in his tone. He'd known Kurt wouldn't want to go back -- how could they? They're home now. But he wants it very clear to his mate that no external forces could possible force them to return.

So, braid finished, he gently shifts Kurt around to face him -- still spread over his lap, still warm and shuddering around his cock, which is a nice feeling, one he could quite easily get addicted to. Both hands come up to cradle their face, thumb tracing the shape of their mouth, their full pouty lower lip. "We won't let them anywhere near you. They'll never touch you again. I swear that to you, Kurt. They won't even get near you."

Then, resting his forehead against his mate's: "Forget about that world, for now. Forget everything that isn't here, now, with us." He rolls his hips up, a bit harder, savoring how each movement prompts those soft, needy sounds from Kurt’s hoarse throat. "Forget about anything that isn't taking me inside you. How deep I am. How good it feels." Corrigan nuzzles against the throbbing claiming marks, starting to speed up his thrusts, hands gripping tight at Kurt's plush, perfect ass. "How much you want my knot again."