The Princess had reached out, toying with a strand of hair that had worked free of her Consort’s conservative braid. As Elan watched in disbelief, she gave the silken rope of hair a sharp tug, then took off running around the table, ducking behind one of the Royal Guards for protection. The guard nimbly stepped out of the way, allowing the growling Fyre Lord to toss the Princess over his shoulder before stalking toward the hogan, and their rooms.
Alarmed, Elan turned to Dathan. “Won’t he be punished for treating her so disrespectfully?” he asked.
“Are you serious?” Dathan asked, looking surprised. “That? That’s just foreplay.” A wicked smile curved the Rayne Lord’s lips. “I could feel her arousal from here. His, too,” he added, and there was a note there that Elan couldn’t quite interpret. “Anyway,” Dathan concluded, “that’s my cue to retire for the evening. I enjoyed speaking with you, Elan. I hope we will speak more tomorrow.” The Rayne Lord clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder and gave him a genuine smile, before sauntering off after his wife and fellow Consort. Elan noticed that the Aire Lord had vanished, too, and caught a glimpse of spiky, white hair disappearing into the hogan, Dathan hot on his heels.
Elan sighed, and wondered what it would be like to follow them, to be sure of his welcome. Then he sighed again and put futile thoughts from his mind.
Chapter Two
Zevan was first in their chambers. The strong drink they’d been given at the feast had numbed the shyness he normally felt whenever about to share Temair with his fellow Consorts.
Temair darted into the room with the Fyre Lord hot on her heels. Zevan immediately moved in front of her, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Miach pressed her briefly against Zevan’s chest, stepping back with a slight smile when the Aire Lord grasped their wife’s hands and leaned forward to brush his mouth against her petal-soft lips. Pulling back, he noted the look of surprise on her face. Zevan had taken the initiative in their love making, and the look in Temair’s eye said she thought it was about damned time.
There was something about this place, maybe it was the peace that seemed to flow like water in the Earth Lands. Maybe he was finally beginning to believe in his good fortune; that he wouldn’t wake up one morning in his tiny chamber at the Aerie, healing bruises painting his entire body. Whatever it was, he didn’t really care to analyze it at the moment. All he wanted right now was to feel Temair, naked skin sliding over naked skin, heat enough to melt the ice around his heart forever.
Miach and Dathan seemed perfectly happy to let him take the lead this time. The Fyre Lord went and poured drinks for them both. As he offered the Rayne Lord his glass, Dathan’s mouth curved in a teasing grin. “Fyre Brandy?” he asked.
“What, you were hoping for some of that blue fruit juice that passes for liquor at the Villa?” Dathan shot him a rude gesture, but Miach merely smirked and took a sip of his drink as he settled next to Dathan on a sofa near the bed, seeming content to watch.
While being watched still made Zevan uncomfortable, tonight he was glad to have the opportunity to love Temair on his own, at least to start. Dipping his head to gaze down the voluptuous line of her body, he reached around and unbuttoned her dress. Pulling it from her shoulders, he let it fall to pool around her feet. She stood proud and naked before him, her curves calling to his every nerve ending.
Still drinking in the sight of her bare, creamy skin, Zevan backed up and removed his own shirt. With his wife, he didn’t feel the need to cover his piercings because he knew she enjoyed them. What had been meant by his mother as a punishment had been transformed by Temair’s love and approval into a source of intense pleasure. It made her happy to tug, bite and play with the thick, iron barbells in his nipples, and she went positively crazy at the stroke of the heavy hoop that pierced the head of his cock, and Zevan found the combination of her arousal and her strong little fingers on the iron adornments had the ability to send his already intense arousal rocketing.
Feeling the fyre in her eyes lick over him, Zevan ripped his breeches off, letting his cock jut out demandingly. His passionate wife immediately reached forward, running her nails down the length and flicking the hoop at the end. He hissed in a sharp breath and caught her wandering hand in his own. “Allow me to please you, Temmie. I want to.”
Her token resistance melted with a sigh at his words, and he boldly pushed her back against the bed post. Gripping both of her hands now in one of his, he pressed them over her head and against the wooden post. “Hold on,” he whispered, and she nodded silently. She seemed entranced with this new, almost dominant side of him, and obediently held on to the post above her head.
Bending a little he licked across one pebbled nipple. Just the tip of his tongue flicking back and forth across the tip of the tight bud. He moved to the other, barely allowing his tongue to touch her delicate skin.
“Zevan,” she breathed as he took a bud into his mouth and sucked deeply. His other hand slid between her thighs, questing between her labia. As he nibbled, kissed and suckled at her generous breasts, he worked two fingers deep within her, crooking them. She breathed his name again, louder this time, as he thrust into her, a preview of what he’d do to her with his cock. Moaning, she spread her legs wide, allowing him to insert a third finger.
Lifting his head, he was eye to eye with his princess, and he let himself get lost in the multi-hued depths of her gaze. He looked into her eyes and brushed soft kisses along her lips while continuing to fuck her with his fingers. Her eyes flared, went wide and desperate, and he watched in wonder as they slid closed in ecstasy. Her head tipped back, her pussy clenched around his fingers, and when she gasped out his name, Zevan felt like a king.
Before she had time to settle down, Miach joined them, slipping naked between Temair and the bedpost, lifting her so that she could wrap her arms and legs around Zevan’s body. His cock brushed her entrance and she reached down to set the tip against her weeping opening. He flexed his hips and she drew him in; slick, hot and wet clutching every inch until he was buried balls-deep in her welcoming body.
Miach grabbed a jar of salve from the table next to the bed. Even as he opened it up, his finger was playing with Temair’s ass. With every probing touch Miach made at her rear opening, she squeezed down harder on Zevan’s hungry cock, until he was seeing stars. Miach moved in behind her and Zevan stopped his thrusts, knowing what was coming next, and allowing for the Fyre Lord to work his cock into her tight ass.
He could feel Miach’s generous dick through the thin veil of skin between Temair’s pussy and ass, the double penetration making her that much tighter. Zevan moved again, and Miach followed as they set a rhythm of pure pleasure. Temair leaned her head back on Miach’s shoulder, leaving her breasts presented in beautiful abandon, and Zevan took advantage, leaning over and biting the rosy tips.
As Zevan watched, Dathan moved to kneel on the bed behind Miach. He was naked and his breath was quick and ragged. Pressing his chest against the bedpost, he wrapped his arms around both Miach and Temair, cupping her breasts and lifting them up to Zevan so that he could lick and suck more fully. The four of them rocked together as the fyre growing among them began to build to dizzying heights. With her taste sweet on his tongue, and the maddening, grasping heat of her on his cock, Zevan knew he would come the moment Temair did -- and he could tell it would be very, very soon.
Dathan must have felt it too, as he moved sinuously back on the bed, standing on the mattress next to Temair. With a gentle touch, he guided her face around until he could brush the tip of his cock over her panting lips.
Zevan was transfixed by it, the sight of Temair’s plump lips stretched wide around Dathan’s thick cock. Miach seemed similarly affected. When Dathan’s cock slid slowly into Temair’s mouth, the First Consorts thrusts went erratic and he ground out a low oath. Even more intriguing was the way Dathan grabbed Miach’s braid, forcing the Fyre Lord to meet his glowing blue gaze. “Miach,” Dathan groaned, and the Fyre Lord lost all control.
Miach roared as he pumped deep in Temair’s ass, which spurred Dathan to release in their wife’s mouth. Temair gave a loud moan as the Rayne Lord painted her face and breasts with his cum, and her pussy wept and clenched along Zevan’s cock as she came again. Zevan cried out as his seed shot deep within her womb, caught up in a feedback loop of pleasure that rushed from Miach to Dathan to Temair, through Zevan and back again in a powerful, mind-blowing shared climax.
He wasn’t sure how long the four of them clung together, silent. Dathan had dropped to his knees again, pressed lightly against both Miach and Temair, who had stretched her arms behind to stroke pale ivory and warm gold flesh.
Eventually Miach stirred, shoving Dathan off of him, and slid gently from Temair’s rear sheath. Temair and Zevan both shivered at the sensation, and all four of them laughed, tired and almost goofy. She brushed his cheek and kissed him lightly on the lips, and Zevan smiled, basking in the knowledge that he had pleased his wife just as he was.
Miach caught their wife up in his arms and lowered her gently to the center of the bed. Zevan eagerly crawled up the bed to gather her into his arms, and watched interestedly as Dathan and Miach engaged in some sort of silent struggle, eyes clashing until the aire fairly steamed between them.
Finally, still without speaking, Miach moved to gather up warm, wet cloths, which he brought to the bed and used to clean Temair’s limp, well-pleasured body before tossing them casually at Zevan and Dathan for their use.
Slanted blue eyes narrowed and Dathan moved to lie on Temair’s other side when Miach went to the bathing chamber rather than joining them in bed. Zevan decided to think about it later. For now he just wanted to soak in the warmth of his wife and fellow Consort.
* * *
Temair watched Miach from her place on the bed surrounded by warm, hard muscle. Zevan slept deeply, as he always did when surrounded by his family, and Dathan lay limp and relaxed, though she suspected he was more aware than he appeared.
Only Miach still simmered with tension.
Sliding from her cozy nest, Temair wrapped a soft cotton robe around her and approached her First Consort. He stood staring into the fyre, moon-lit pearl skin limned in gold, black-ruby hair in an elegant tangle over his shoulders. His breeches hung low on his hips, offering a tantalizing view of the curve of his lower back and the sweet rise of the slope of his ass.
She moved close behind him, laying her cheek on the sharp plane of his shoulder and her hand along the satin skin of his lower back, and wondered if she’d ever lose the absolute craving to touch his skin. Such a beautiful man, inside and out; and so intense, so rigid in his views.
She had an idea what was bothering him now, and knew it was a situation that had been coming to a head for weeks. She’d hoped that she had given enough encouragement that Miach would act on his own, but it was becoming increasingly clear to her that he wouldn’t act without more specific… what, permission? Encouragement? Whatever it was he needed, it was eating him up inside, and it was hurting Dathan, too.
Funny, she’d never worried about Dathan’s feelings in this odd little equation. He was so free, so laid back; while she’d never doubted the depth of the Rayne Lord’s feelings for her, she’d never really expected that depth might translate to his feelings for Miach as well.
* * *
Even without looking, Miach knew when Temair slipped from the bed, and laid her cheek on his shoulder, her hand on his back, they were both welcome balms to the unrest that filled his heart.
Making love to his wife was the ultimate in pleasure and connection. Being inside her took him to a place he’d never found with another lover; a place he’d never guessed existed. Temair filled his heart and fulfilled his body in ways that went far beyond the physical and encompassed the spiritual.
It was more than any one man had the right to hope for. It would be criminally greedy to wish for something more.
Besides, he loved her and he would never betray her; not in word, deed, and, dammit, not in thought either. That’s why when Dathan collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap against his side, when he’d felt the Rayne Lord’s breath hot and damp against his neck, and the slick press of Dathan’s still full cock against him, Miach had left the bed. The feel of Dathan’s body against his was tempting enough; what Miach couldn’t allow was his own desire to reach back and ruffle damp, blue-black hair affectionately. To do so would be a betrayal of his first vow, his oath to Temair.
“It wouldn’t bother me, you know.” His wife’s voice was low in deference to her sleeping Consorts, but still contained that lick of velvet fyre that stroked over him like a caress.
“What wouldn’t bother you, Spark?” he asked, though he was afraid he knew what she meant. His wife had an unnerving ability to read his mind at times.
“You and Dathan, together.”
His whole body tensed, he couldn’t help it. Whether in mortification that she knew the depths of his attraction, or in a vain attempt to choke back the arousal that flooded him at the mere mention of the Second Consort’s name, he couldn’t have said.
“Miach.” She slipped around to stand in front of him, reaching up to cup his jaw and force him to meet her gaze. “I love you.” Crimson lights sparkled deep in her eyes at the words. Eyes that had once been warm, clear brown, but now held the scarlet of Fyre, the glowing blue of Rayne, and the cool gray of Aire. “And I know you love me. I knew it even before you gave me the words,” she smiled impishly, “though hearing them never fails to make me want to show you just how thrilled I am about it.”
She traced her fingers over his jaw, stroked the line of his lower lip, then wrapped her soft hand around the nape of his neck, drawing him down so his forehead rested against hers. “Your feelings for Dathan do not take anything away from your feelings for me. They aren’t a betrayal, or a cheat.” The scarlet in her eyes crackled with intensity, much the way he’d been told his own did when he experienced strong emotion. “If anything, the bond growing between you and Dathan strengthens the bond between us all. Consider your feelings for Zevan,” she continued.
Miach’s feelings for Zevan were nothing like his feelings for Dathan. In Zevan he saw the little brother he’d always wished he had, rather than the vain, foppish Vashti. In Zevan he saw a survivor, a fighter. But he thought he understood her point.
Miach had always assumed he’d tolerate his fellow Consorts. It had never occurred to him that he’d come to care about them. He wouldn’t necessarily characterize his feelings for Zevan as love, but there was a fierce protectiveness and fondness that seemed to grow daily.
Reading his mind again, his wife smiled. “Exactly. You admire Zevan. You respect him, and like him, and would fight to the death for him, and that doesn’t take a single thing away from your feelings for me.” She stood on tip-toe to rub her cheek along his. “What makes that so different from your feelings for Dathan?”
“I don’t want to have sex with Zevan,” he blurted without thinking, then felt a tide of red crawl up his neck as she laughed softly.
“If you had sex with Dathan, would it change your feelings toward me?” she asked softly.
“Spark, nothing could change my feelings toward you. I’ll be a thousand years into the afterlife and I’ll still belong to you, body and soul.”
“Then I want you to do something for me. I want you to allow yourself to desire Dathan. Allow yourself to have him.” She pulled back and the blue glowed almost as brightly as the crimson. “He needs you, Miach, every bit as much as Zevan does. Maybe even as much as he needs me.” Miach felt like his chest was filled with clay, his heart beat in slow motion. Temair was handing him the key, telling him Dathan needed him, and Miach wanted. Mother, how he wanted.
She didn’t force him to answer, didn’t do anything but press a warm kiss to his speechless mouth before strolling back to the bed and curling into Zevan’s arms. Miach stared into the fyre, seeing nothing but the blue glow in Temair’s eyes, the same blue glow as Dathan’s eyes, so he missed
the pensive, sleepy look the Rayne Lord sent him before those tilted eyes slid closed again in sleep.
Chapter Three
Dathan lay in a woven hammock suspended between two of Earth’s ancient trees. The trees were the keepers of all that came from the earth and took to their duty with the utmost respect for the land.
It was cooler than his own Rayne home but no less beautiful. He watched as Princess Nuriel draped herself on a divan of silk. Her delicate foot was in the hands of an attractive young man who was rubbing oil along her arch.
Around him, people went happily about their business. He heard no complaint, no arguments; there was only a lot of laughter. The women were affectionate with the men, treating them as if they were precious, coddling them almost as much as they coddled the children.
Earth was the perfect example of how the Queendom should be run, the exact opposite of the cruelty he witnessed in the Aire lands.
“Dathan, I could stay here forever. Never have I been surrounded by such serene people.” She sighed and smiled as she filled her hand with sweet berries.
“I agree, Ellie, this place is as close to paradise as I’ve ever been. They are so attuned to their surroundings and take careful care of their place in Merab.”
“Don’t you start calling me that,” she grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile in her eyes.
“I didn’t want you to miss Sorcha too much,” he returned with a wicked grin.
The young man finished attending Nuriel’s feet and quietly left. Nuriel turned over on her stomach, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Anyway, what you said is true, but I was talking about the men here. They are all so pleasant and respectful. Two of the Mother’s sons escorted me around the small orchard this morning.”
Her face relaxed and Dathan knew she was lost again in her daydreams of romance and love. “They helped me over a small creek and were sure to move any branch that was in my way. It was truly a magical experience. I am enjoying my time here immensely.”
The Queens of Merab 4 Temair’s Earth Page 2