"Yes," they murmur, letting Corrigan spread them out gently on the furs, naked skin prickly with goosebumps in the dark outdoor air. The growing flame and Alpha's body covering their own quickly chase away the chill, but that doesn't stop them from shivering as Corrigan's hand trails down their body, so big and warm and gentle, swallowing them up. In truth, Kurt had been worried that any touch would prove too much, would prompt memories of the horrors they'd endured, the things they'd been made to do. But as Corrigan kneels over them, his big hand pressing against their flat stomach, the only memories conjured are of their very first time.
Kurt had been frightened then too. Needlessly, as they would quickly learn, for there was nothing to be frightened of. Not the wolves, nor the pleasure they offered. One by one they'd helped themselves to Kurt's body, and they'd surrendered without fear, without hesitation, letting themself get carried away on endless waves of it. Corrigan, kneeling above them then as he does now, had eased their mind of misconceptions with his amazing cock, his talented mouth, and his big, warm, gentle hands.
That's the thing about surrender Miles never understood. He thought of submission as defeat, as the ultimate prize claimed by vicious conquest, the weak falling to the strong. But surrender is a gift. Surrender is facing what terrifies you and trusting that, no matter what happens, you'll be safe. Kurt's legs fall open underneath Corrigan, their body shakily pressing up into his hands, their own hands resting on either side of their head, palms open, facing him. Kurt trusts, submits, and surrenders.
"I l-love you, Corrigan." Their voice is brittle and wet, and yet achingly warm around the words, filling the heated air between them. Had their link still been intact, Corrigan would have felt the pulse of adoration and trust and love from them in that moment, gazing up at him from the soft furs. Until such a time they can knit it back together, Kurt will just have to tell him outright.
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Kurt had been frightened then too. Needlessly, as they would quickly learn, for there was nothing to be frightened of. Not the wolves, nor the pleasure they offered. One by one they'd helped themselves to Kurt's body, and they'd surrendered without fear, without hesitation, letting themself get carried away on endless waves of it. Corrigan, kneeling above them then as he does now, had eased their mind of misconceptions with his amazing cock, his talented mouth, and his big, warm, gentle hands.
That's the thing about surrender Miles never understood. He thought of submission as defeat, as the ultimate prize claimed by vicious conquest, the weak falling to the strong. But surrender is a gift. Surrender is facing what terrifies you and trusting that, no matter what happens, you'll be safe. Kurt's legs fall open underneath Corrigan, their body shakily pressing up into his hands, their own hands resting on either side of their head, palms open, facing him. Kurt trusts, submits, and surrenders.
"I l-love you, Corrigan." Their voice is brittle and wet, and yet achingly warm around the words, filling the heated air between them. Had their link still been intact, Corrigan would have felt the pulse of adoration and trust and love from them in that moment, gazing up at him from the soft furs. Until such a time they can knit it back together, Kurt will just have to tell him outright.