Dragon Magic

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Dragon Magic Page 16

by Megan Derr


  Sule laughed. "It doesn't smell that bad. It's the minerals that cause the odor and color, but they also keep the water clean and purifying, and such water is always hot. The only thing I miss about my former home is the hot springs. We'd sit in them in the middle of winter late at night, looking up at the stars with snow all around us but the water hot enough we felt like we were being cooked." Sule moved to the large, deep tub and climbed in. Some of his tension eased as he settled in water that came up to his shoulders.

  Mahzan turned the water off and slid in across from Sule, their legs just barely brushing. He groaned and sank all the way down, spreading his legs so as not to bother Sule overmuch, while covering as much as himself as he possibly could. "I want to stay here forever."

  Sule grinned, a real, open boyish grin that Mahzan had never seen on him before. He moved before his thoughts could catch up, closing the space between them and dropping a kiss on Sule's mouth. Sule gasped but immediately opened up, and it was as easy as breathing to kiss him deeper, harder, slide his fingers around the back of Sule's neck as he shifted to straddle one of Sule's legs on the bench.

  After a moment, Sule pushed him away. "We both smell like an unwashed army. Bathe, fool, then you have leave to take me to bed."

  Laughing, Mahzan withdrew to obey. He'd linger in the delightfully hot water another night if they stayed that long. He found soap and rags and scrubbed himself off thoroughly, then dithered over his hair. The long braids had not fared well, and it had taken two servants to help maintain his hair at the Heart. The smart thing would be to get rid of them, but he still dragged his feet as he climbed out of the bathing tub to rummage through several drawers built into the wall.

  When he found shears, he stood in front of the large mirror opposite the tub and started snipping. Several minutes later his hair was an uneven, but short mess. Given enough time, it would grow out and begin to form heavy locks.

  "Looks good short, though I admit the braids weren't terrible."

  Mahzan could read how not terrible Sule had found them. He scrubbed his fingers through his short hair, not entirely minding the lack of weight. "This is probably much better for traveling; I should have done it sooner."

  Sule shrugged. He turned a handle to empty the tub and climbed out, reached for a drying cloth. When he was more or less dry, Mahzan reached out and pulled him in, looping an arm loosely around his waist as he kissed Sule with intent. He drew back only when they were both breathless, keeping hold of Sule's hand as he dragged him out of the bathing chamber and across the bedroom to the bed.

  "I'm starting to appreciate how one little orphan out of thousands rose all the way to King's Jester."

  "As though it takes less fortitude and strength to go from being thought one more girl in a forgettable village to one of the most powerful men in the Heart, North Captain."

  Sule smiled. "Stop being nice, fool. It doesn't suit you."

  Mahzan's answering smile was all teeth as he dragged Sule fully onto the bed and splayed him across it. He trailed fingers lightly along Sule's small breasts. "May I?"

  Shivering, tongue darting out to touch his lip, Sule said, "Do I look or sound as though I'm protesting? Get on with it, or I'll tie you down and take care of matters myself."

  "Oh, bondage. Another night perhaps." Mahzan cut off Sule's verbal retort with a biting kiss, but that did nothing to stem his mental reply, which forced Mahzan to withdraw as he succumbed to laughter. "That was rude." He licked Sule's lips, then trailed his mouth along Sule's jaw and down his neck, lingering at his throat to savor the pounding pulse there before working further down to lavish that fine chest with the attention it deserved.

  Eventually, once Sule was hissing and moaning demands, he worked his way further down—and paused as he reached his final destination. "So what are the chances of you having children?"

  "Non-existent," Sule said. "I always make sure that's not a possibility when I travel."

  "Marvelous."

  "Get back to work." One of Sule's hands ran through his hair, tugged on it lightly, the other hand skating across his skin, urging him on.

  Mahzan happily obeyed, spreading Sule's legs wide and dragging those muscled thighs over his shoulders. He sucked at Sule's clit, stroked it with his tongue, until Sule's gasps and moans filled the room, punctuating the smell of sex already permeating the air around them.

  Fires, Cemal gasped, wine glass spilling from his hands, cock going immediately hard beneath the bathing robe he still wore.

  Mahzan tried to fix the barriers, but Sule dragged him up into a hard, wet kiss and got a hand around his cock, shattering all attempts to think, let alone focus.

  I'm going to kill you all, Binhadi said with a shudder, but his lust was unmistakable, and not just a product of theirs, merely encouraged by it. He pressed the heel of his hand to his cock where it was trapped by his own bathing robe.

  Cemal shuddered as Binhadi grabbed the front of his robe and hauled him out of his chair and across the small space between them, took his mouth with all the deadly focus he normally reserved for his shadows. Fuck, the icy bastard could kiss.

  Mahzan reluctantly pulled free of Sule's talented grip so he could slide down that trim, hard-muscled body, sucking and licking and biting as he went, growing hotter and harder with every moan and shiver and breathy plea.

  He tore away from Sule's mouth and went back to work sucking and licking at Sule's clit, working the swollen nub hard, hot satisfaction coursing through him at the way that made Sule hitch and writhe and yowl. When Sule said his name in a long, needy moan, Mahzan went deeper, thrusting his tongue into slick heat.

  Cemal dropped his mouth over Binhadi's cock, arms resting on either side of him on the wide chair. He opened his throat to take it as deep as possible. His mouth was stretched to aching from being used in a way it hadn't for a long time, but Cemal had missed it, missed this. Binhadi's fingers were wound tightly in his hair, yanking at it periodically because the man couldn't help but be bossy.

  Sule could feel the weight and heat of Binhadi's cock, the musk and bitterness sunk into his nostrils even as he grabbed Mahzan's hair and urged him deeper, harder, wanting more of that clever, infuriating tongue.

  Mahzan moaned, lost in sensation. How it felt to tongue-fuck Sule, how it felt to suck Binhadi's cock, the wet heat of Cemal's throat, the way Sule shivered on the precipice of climax. He pulled his tongue out and kissed his way eager and messy back up Sule's body to taste his mouth again. Heavy fingers gripped his skin, slid down to grab his ass and urge him to grind and rub.

  Binhadi could taste himself in Cemal's mouth, could taste Sule, taste Mahzan, could barely sort one from the other. How did Mahzan do this? It was more intoxicating than brin flowers or Declara wine. So long since he'd felt anything like this, so hard to feel anything when he couldn't desire people he didn't give a damn about, hadn't felt even close to this the last time he had been with—

  Mahzan hissed as Binhadi shut out that thought with brutal force, but the pain was forgotten as Sule sucked on his ear and murmured in husky tones, "Fuck me, fool." Far be it for him to refuse or question that order.

  It had been too long since he'd let someone so close, and the last time had been a whore, since they were the only ones who didn't give a damn about the person they were fucking, just the coin. Sule held on tight as Mahzan slid into him like he'd done it a thousand times, digging his nails into those slender shoulders, panting as Mahzan began to move with deep, hard thrusts.

  Cemal went easily as Binhadi pushed him to the floor, settling on his knees, his head on folded arms. Where Binhadi had found something slick, he didn't know and didn't care to ask. He was plenty occupied with begging for more, barely kept from shouting as Binhadi fucked into him without warning or hesitation, a hand sliding around to grip Cemal's cock.

  Fuck Cemal was tight, and yet as pliant and willing as he was in all things. It just made Binhadi hungrier, needier, desperate to reach an end and yet never let it stop.
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  Sule came with a scream, shuddering in Mahzan's arms, barely able to breathe, the world white and distant around him. Mahzan kept fucking him for several more strokes, then buried his face in Sule's throat as he finally came. Sule clung to him, steadied him, breathing in the scents of sweat and sex as they lay there panting.

  Cemal gave a hoarse shout, spilling over his hastily discarded robe. Lethargy swept over him, but he was kept from slumping to the floor by the hands gripping his hips almost painfully tight, the way Binhadi kept going and going, fucking so hard and deep Cemal suspected he'd feel it for days.

  When Binhadi finally came, he was as silent as ever, but the hot satisfaction in the bond spoke volumes that mere words never could. He slumped on top of Cemal, heavy and hot but not yet unpleasant.

  Binhadi groaned a few minutes later and heaved to his feet, then pulled Cemal up after him. They tottered over to Binhadi's bed, the wine they'd been sharing long forgotten.

  Mahzan pulled gently out of Sule and rolled over to flop across the other half of the bed. I thought I had tried just about everything that was on offer, but that is definitely a new experience. Is this the real reason Oaths used to be a favored thing?

  I cannot see how something like this was ever common, Binhadi replied.

  I think if any argument could be made that they were common practice, it would be this, Cemal replied with a laugh.

  Sule's derision curled through the conversation. I'm fairly certain this would be an argument against it. How distracting would such an arrangement be when the focus should be on battle or a goal such as ours? Such things are complicated enough without the mental bond or the fact we had no say in the Oath itself.

  Mahzan groaned. Shut up. Binhadi, too. Lay back and enjoy the aftermath of excellent sex—what is wrong with the two of you? If this is how you always treat your bed guests, it's little wonder you don't have them often.

  Binhadi's wry amusement floated over them. I don't have bed guests often because people are terrified of me, and I do not feel sexual attraction for people I do not know well.

  I think that's the closest you've ever come to admitting you like us, Mahzan replied. He yawned and closed his eyes, shifted to stretch out on his side and settle into the unbelievable softness of the bed. When do we have to be downstairs for dinner?

  Sule answered him with soft snores, and Cemal's quieted thoughts and Binhadi's grumbling ones about Cemal's snoring made it clear he'd drifted off as well.

  Not for a few hours yet, Binhadi replied. Sleep. I'll wake everyone in plenty of time to make ourselves presentable. He fell silent a moment, then said, How much of that was you truly losing your concentration?

  Mahzan laughed softly. I'm a fool. It's my job to read and please the crowd. But I concede that I did lose control eventually; it was overwhelming in a way I am not used to. Heady, though. How much more devastating do you think it would be with all of us in one bed? Looks like our shadow mage got his harem after all.

  You're no harem, Binhadi replied lightly. You wouldn't want to be. And I anticipated nothing but you and Sule eventually fucking instead of fighting.

  Something flickered, teased, but Binhadi squashed it before Mahzan could catch it. What are you hiding?

  Mistakes and other foolishness. Stop nosing around and sleep. You can attempt to wrest my secrets from me another day.

  There was a hint of sadness and resignation in those words, though the emotions were quickly stamped out as ruthlessly as the one that had eluded Mahzan. Then there was only quiet as Binhadi put his walls back up. Damn the infuriating man. Mahzan sighed, but as tempting as it was to press the matter while they had nowhere to go and nothing to do, there were times for pushing and times for waiting, and fucking three men mentally while fucking one of them physically had been exhausting. Pleasant, heady, and addictive, but exhausting.

  Hopefully there would be a chance to do it all again. He shifted closer to Sule and draped an arm over his body, enjoying the warmth and press of another body, the smell of minerals and flowery soap that clung to Sule's hair. Smiling, lulled by the quiet, happy thoughts of the two already fast asleep, Mahzan slipped into dreams himself.

  BETRAYAL

  Sule woke sore and sated, and enjoyed a languorous stretch before his mind stirred enough to recall vividly why he felt that way. His face burned as the memories of three men filled his mind in shocking, distracting clarity. He knew precisely how it felt to fuck himself, to fuck Cemal, to be fucked by Binhadi.

  He sat up sharply and moved so quickly he fell out of bed more than climbed. With stiff, stumbling steps he returned to the bathing chamber to piss and wash off. Mercy of the Great Dragon… He shook the memories and thoughts off. He'd face them later when they were less overwhelming.

  Returning to Mahzan's room, he wasn't terribly surprised to see that Mahzan was already gone. Now he was awake, he could feel it as well, a slightly firmer presence at the back of his mind. But where had he gone?

  The library, Mahzan replied. Cemal is still asleep, Binhadi is off chatting with Lady Eser. Or maybe they're just silently brooding together. That seems like something those two would do for fun.

  Oh, I think you could keep pace with us regarding brooding, if not teach us a thing or two, Binhadi said. All three of you would do well, in fact.

  Sule snorted. I don't think Mahzan can hold still enough for a proper brooding.

  Mahzan huffed, but there was laughter there too.

  Dinner is in an hour, Binhadi added after a moment. One of you wake Cemal.

  I'll do it. Sule returned to his own room and pulled on the clothes still laid on his bed—even a new binder for his chest, of better quality than even he could afford as North Captain. Stamping into his cleaned and polished boots, he headed out—and paused. Where is Cemal? I don't remember where we all scattered.

  Binhadi shuffled through his mind like feathers against his skin. The sensation never stopped feeling strange, but it had stopped feeling foreign. Across the hall, two down. My room, really.

  Oh, I remember that part well enough.

  Mahzan snickered.

  Shut up. Sule opened the door to Binhadi's room and slipped inside. He could still faintly smell sex and sweat, along with traces of sandalwood. He paused as he reached the bed, distracted by a beautiful string of prayer beads on the side table. He'd seen glimpses of them from time to time, but Cemal always kept them close, like a man ashamed or afraid they'd be stolen, though Sule was certain he didn't think either of those things. They were made of bone and amber, if he wasn't mistaken, remarkably fine for a man who claimed he had no real interest in being a priest.

  It was hardly his business, though. Turning to the bed, Sule reached out and gave Cemal's shoulder a firm shake. "Wake up."

  Cemal grunted, groaned. When Sule shook him a second time, he flung out an arm and hauled Sule in close.

  "What are you—"

  The words were cut off by a clumsy, sleepy kiss. Sule's mind spun and tumbled, disoriented and confused. He'd expected the feel and flavor of Mahzan's kiss, but had Binhadi's memories of kissing Cemal—

  Mahzan's laughter rippled through the chaos, full of mischievous intent.

  Don't you—

  Cemal jerked, gasped again, his eyes flying open as Mahzan filled their minds with vibrant memories of their activities only a few hours ago. He stared wide-eyed at Sule, then let go and dropped back down on the bed with a long groan. He draped one arm over his eyes, but his other hand slid down to press at his half-hard cock. "Mahzan!"

  Cackling, Mahzan withdrew.

  Sule huffed. "I really am going to throttle him one day. Dinner is in less than an hour now."

  Cemal sat up again, smiling faintly. "Thank you."

  Nodding, Sule withdrew to head downstairs, where a servant escorted him to a drawing room. A small table had been laid with wine, ale, and appetizers. Sule helped himself to bread and olives, and a glass of pale wine the likes of which he'd seen but never had opportunity to try.<
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  No one else was about, but he could feel them strongly enough they were all close. Disconcerting how comfortable he'd become with having more voices in his head when normally he couldn't stand to have anyone else in his home, but there was no denying it.

  Try being the mind mage in charge of it all. You don't get half of what I do.

  You'll get no sympathy from me.

  Never expected it. The door opened and Mahzan stepped into the room. He went to the table and poured a cup of the wine so dark it was nearly black. No doubt the other wines weren't dramatic enough.

  Mahzan turned and cast him a look. Sule returned it with a blank expression.

  Stifle the flirting until I have the energy to survive it. I shudder to think the effect such a bond would have on someone not interested in joining the fun.

  "I'd lock them out," Mahzan replied as Cemal stepped through the door. "I do have better focus and control than that. Earlier there just seemed to be little point."

  Cemal shook his head faintly and Sule rolled his eyes. "Fool."

  "What book are you reading?" Cemal asked before Mahzan could reply.

  Eyes bright with amusement, Mahzan nevertheless replied, "Lady Eser had several books set out for us. None of them have much about Oaths, but they all have a little—and this one more than the rest. It was written by a man who, though never Oathbound himself, claims to have had an uncle who was and talked to the man at length. He even has chapters on how the Oath affects various types of magic, though sadly not all of them.

  "Most books seem to agree that Oaths were matters of contracts and the like that were blown out of proportion by story tellers and time, as is so often the case. The same could explain the way those in the Oath had magic that evolved in strength and capabilities—simply people who worked together a long time and had more cause than most to use magic frequently and in peculiar circumstances that forced them to learn new tricks and methods that were exaggerated and contorted in later recountings." Mahzan smiled. "Perfectly feasible save for the part where we are Oathbound and all of us are doing things we would not be able to do without the bond."

 

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