Oh, Zan’Dar. You are a heartsick, romantic little fool! he thought grimly.
Bracing himself, he drew out of his place in the throng and shouldered his way through the crowd. He wanted to be away. This wasn’t how he imagined their reunion. The fantasy he’d dreamed shriveled along with his heart. That cold, brutal looking warrior couldn’t possibly be what Zan’Dar needed. There was tenderness in his fantasy that he did not see reflected in the general.
He looked right through Zan’Dar.
Zan’Dar longed to focus on the fragile web-work at the bounding point as he had every day they were apart. He wasn’t able to. Seeing the strange manifestation of the man hurt too much. How could the delicate link still feel the same when the man himself was so changed?
No one stopped him as he walked away from the pavilions and tents. Pulling the white fur from his shoulders, he choked back the sense of foolishness. They could cut the connection. Couldn’t they? It was so fragile and untested. He could pull it free himself without the man even noticing.
Except that when he reached for the link that connected them and tugged at it, the surge of brilliant joy overwhelmed him. He doubled over with a groan under the unexpected strength of the emotion. The question filled him, spilling over into a tumble of fluttering eagerness.
Where are you?
Zan’Dar felt the man searching for him and his eagerness pulled against him, threatening to engulf him completely in the swell of sweetest affection and longing. The tenderness brought tears to his eyes. Shoving the sensation away, he willed his determination to remain strong. He yanked against the connection and felt the delicate threads snapping away with tearing agony. Along the length of the connection roared an anguished cry, burning with confusion.
Why?
Why!
And then fear, and terror, and loss.
No, Zan’Dar needed a proper sage to help him. He could not hold onto the contact without being overwhelmed by Bennonton’s emotions. He didn’t want the man to witness his own dread and cowardice.
Around him, the only thing people were talking about was the general and all of his noble deeds. All of the battles led and won and the prowess in which he’d held the peninsula against the hordes in the north. Calvary General, Lord Bennonton, Prince of the southern kingdoms. Highlord of the first gate and wielder of the soul blade had returned to them not only whole, but a hero.
Blindly Zan’Dar stumbled away from the opening ceremony, willing his heart to stop aching. He tried to smother the keening emotions trilling through him. In his distraction, he ran right into the mount. Unable to correct his progress he fell backwards, grunting as he landed on his ass.
The blood horse snorted mildly and offered a cool look down an unimpressed muzzle. It was huge, and dappled with loud patches of pale gold against white. The legs were long and clean and the chest wide up to the elegantly curved neck. For a moment, the dark eyes measured him and then he felt the shocked recognition. Zan’dar? The voice rang through his mind with bright with feminine laughter. Is that you? What are you doing, Life-Breather?
He stammered something as he scrambled to his feet, head spinning. He tried to get around her, and she danced into his path, nudging him back roughly with her nose.
Her voice that filled him was as unkind as the shove. That is not the way of the celebration. Why are you fleeing? she asked. The question sharpened as she looked over his shoulder and glared around, seeking for whatever army might have sent him running in abject terror.
What could he say? It seemed he didn’t need to explain anything. The mare’s eyes shifted back to him and he felt her settle warmly around him with a mental and physical sigh. Ah! Zan’Dar, my rider. You are much changed yourself. Your beloved would not have recognized you. I am Amberlynn, Defender of the Starfire Night, daughter of Lady Shara, Bearer of the Winternight Flame. Your breath is the light inside me, rider. I claim you as MINE! Her voice was fierce and possessive. Her ears flatted to her head and she snapped at him. Now, ride.
She was going to put her teeth into him or trample him. His only choice was to swing onto her back to avoid both. Despite his leap onto her back she bit his thigh hard before he pulled himself astride. Ignoring his yelp of pain, she whirled the moment he had his leg over. With a victorious cry she bounded away with him. It was all he could do to cling onto her and not tumble off her far side. He managed to stay mounted as she thundered back towards the finish of the progression.
He sensed a soft laughter from Mortari before he scolded, Little sister, if you break OUR rider, I will be most cross with you.
You have not managed to break him yet. I’m sure he’ll be just fine.
She wasn’t holding back on her speed either running for all she was worth. By the luck of all the gods, no one got in her way. People turned from the display of the victorious army to see them flying towards the tents and banners at the front of the line. Somehow, he managed to keep a grip of the cloak he’d yanked off his shoulders before colliding with the mare. The white fur and colorful feathers made a banner behind him as they ran.
The big mare wasn’t even winded when she tucked her hind end under her and slid to a stop. With an imperious flick of her tail she stood tall and proud. Waiting.
Narrowly avoiding shaming himself, Zan’Dar managed to not fly over her neck. Put on your cloak and sit up straight, she demanded deep into the corners of his mind. Despite the edge to the words, he felt her joy in their run, and at his ability to stay on her without a saddle.
The bounding point filled with soft affection and he knew that the general had seen them, too. He was coming. The promise, heavy with anticipation, made his insides weak and unaccountably, his cock was desperately hard. The lust and desire replaced his fears, but his hands still shook violently as he fastened the fur back around his shoulders.
You must never run away from battle. Make no mistake, the field of love is only for the bold, my rider.
“Like you would know,” he whispered and pressing his heel into her side.
She swiveled an ear back at him, head tilted so her dark eyes caught his. I love you. Fiercely. It’s all I need to know. I always have. I would do battles with all of the devils for you. The strength of her dedication washed hotly over him, leaving him a little breathless.
Then the general broke from the careful lines of the progression. At first he moved from a walk to a trot and then broke into a canter for the last few strides. “Zan’Dar!” he called as he stood in the stirrups and lifted his sword into the air. There under all the metal and stone was the smile. Bold and brazen, it transformed the cold warrior into the man he remembered.
As the stallion skidded to a halt, almost chest to chest with the mare, Zan’Dar saw his own stunned expression reflected in the golden bright gaze that drifted over him. He saw the flicker of uncertainty. Had two years driven a wedge between them?
“You look well, your highness,” Zan’Dar forced out the words through his tight throat. He smiled at the shocked stare of the man. A prickle danced along the bounding point and in turn, he focused on it, tracing a shy touch of affection there, soothing the fractured threads with deepest apology. “Am I so changed?”
“I….yes.” The big man gulped and glanced down at him before the grin split his face. He leaned forward to grip the front of Zan’Dar’s jacket and the fur and hauled him close to take the kiss they both wanted. All the doubts faded when Bennonton’s strong mouth pressed to his. He claimed Zan’Dar with an ownership that was as unquestionable as his command of the whole southern army.
The crowd erupted in enthusiastic cheers around them. The sound of the happy cries thrummed through him along with the unexpected taste of berries and honey as the kiss deepened. Here was proof that the kingdom had been waiting for this reunion.
Zan’Dar gripped Bennonton back, fingers bruising on the mail of his armor and drew him in tight. He smiled at the groan of pleasure that trembled against his mouth as Bennonton obeyed. At last though, the processi
on caught up with them and they had to break the contact.
With a growl the general broke free, grinning. “Come with me. To the front, rider.” His eyes twinkled, full of glorious promise that overshadowed all lingering doubt.
Ah. Better, his Amberlynn crooned in satisfaction. She moved in step with Chirmeng, close enough that Bennonton’s powerful thigh brushed against Zan’Dar’s. The rough scrape against the larger man sent a sweet pulse of longing through him. He couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him. Oh yes, he had forgotten how handsome Bennonton was. The smile had chased away the earlier expression and warmth softened all the edges.
“So, you have two mounts now?” Bennonton asked, grinning down at the mare and back to Zan’Dar. Mortari took that moment to come galloping up to join them, nipping playfully at the mare but obviously pleased at the new match.
“She was encouraging me to return to you. I….thought you were not pleased to see me.”
The general’s lips curled into a sheepish smile before he chuckled. “I was looking for the boy I left, not the man I returned to.” He reached out and cupped Zan’Dar’s cheek. “I’m sorry it took me a moment. You took me quite serious when I requested you put on muscle. I am rather intimidated.”
Zan’Dar nuzzled his cheek into the strong hand and Amberlynn slipped closer. “By me? I am just the same.”
“Bah. You are a savage, barbarian warlord. What am I going to do with you? Where is my darling little bright, eyes?”
Zan’Dar laughed aloud, unable to hold it in. “I guess we’ll have to figure that part out. You’ve um…filled out yourself, you know. You might have noticed.”
A fierce smile answered that and a pulse of heat rushed to Zan’Dar’s face.
“Still accursedly heartbreaking when you blush, beloved,” Bennonton whispered.
They rode the rest of the way together, hip to hip and Zan’Dar found himself unable to look away from his powerful general.
Chapter 17
The opening celebrations went by in a blur. It was a mixture of too slow and all too fast. All he wanted was to drag Bennonton off, or have the general drag him away, but there were too many things to do before they could properly vanish from the party. Appearances on the first day of summer were important. Proper greetings needed to be exchanged with the people of power who were arriving.
It was a sweet agony to stand side by side and offer greetings and introductions and not follow through with what his body had longed for every day since they’d parted. By the time the crowds in the hall thinned, Zan’Dar spotted Bennonton alone for the first time all evening. He caught the look across the room and when he drew himself up to his full height, saw his own longing echoed in the man’s expression.
Zan’Dar grabbed two glasses of wine and crossed to the general and offered him one of the drinks. “Might I interest you in a walk, Lord General?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet and mild.
The big man smiled and Zan’Dar realized how much he enjoyed being equal in height to him. He no longer had to tip his head back to regard him. “Are you sure?” he asked. Taking the glass, his finger slid across Zan’Dar’s knuckles.
“I have never been more certain about anything.” Taking his elbow, Zan’Dar firmly escorted the warrior towards the gardens. Under his fingers, he felt the sweet spark of their connection and for the first time, grasped onto it fully. The moment he did, drawing it closer, Bennonton growled very low in his throat. Carefully he allowed the other man to feel the desire in him. The answering caress sparkled against him giving no doubt that Bennonton experienced the same. Passion, admiration, pride and love eclipsed all the rest. It took Zan’Dar’s breath away.
“You’re not going to toy with me. Are you?” Bennonton asked when Zan’Dar had lured him deep down the garden path flanked by roses.
“Of course not. I think we had an agreement. You wanted two years to see how things would develop.” Zan’Dar stopped at last under the flowering berry tree.
Fae lights twinkled around them, flashing their gem colors in the man’s golden eyes as he pulled Zan’Dar close to him. “Gods and devils! I did not expect you to turn into a warlord.”
“Are you displeased?” Zan’Dar trembled at the roughness behind the touch. The grip held him so he couldn’t possibly escape even if he wanted to. How could he ever want to be free from this?
“No, my war chief, Zan’Dar. I am enthralled by you. I want to be careful with you, but you make me crazy to claim you. I want to hear your sweet voice groaning out my name when I mount you and knot that sweet little ass.” His voice lowered to a husky growl as his larger body pressed in closer. He toyed with the glass of wine while his other hand slid around Zan’Dar, stroking his hip. Confident hands eased around his lower back, pulling him in closer.
“Knot?” he asked, voice tightening in surprise and a flare of desire.
“Mmmm, yes. A true union that locks us in a passion only the most erotic and mythical lovers share.”
The suggestion made him dizzy with longing. He slipped his arm around the larger man, grasping the back of his neck to pull him down and claim his mouth. There was no resistance. The moment their lips touched, warm and so soft, Bennonton’s tongue darted forward to meet his, tangling together in a hungry caress. It was not hurried. It was hard and sweetly brutal. It was the kiss that had haunted his nights for months.
Together they ground into each other, tested strength for strength and it was a glorious sensation to have the hard cock nuzzling against his stomach for the first time. He delighted in shamelessly pressing into his powerful thigh. Slipping his leg between the larger man’s thighs, he showed him exactly how excited he was. “You can’t break me.”
Bennonton shuddered. “I don’t want to hurt you.” The length of his hard cock throbbed against his stomach where it pressed against him. When Zan’Dar arched towards him, Bennonton groaned in pleasure.
“I will have to take the edge off first, then.” Zan’Dar smiled and sipped his wine while his other hand trailed down his lover’s fine jacket, trailing from the broad chest to his stomach and then smoothed his palm between their bodies, cupping the thick cock. “My Lord General.” He smiled into the half-shuttered eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, sharing the sweet, cool wine in that seductive kiss. The larger man didn’t seem to notice Zan’Dar’s inexperience. He appeared as swept away in the moment as Zan’Dar.
“Zan’Dar. Gods! I should be showing you how…Oh!” He tried to protest when Zan’Dar’s hand slipped into his formal breeches.
The exquisite feathers slid between his fingers as he wrapped his fist around the base of Bennonton’s hard cock.
“When I have dreamed of this moment I imagined you being the shy one.” Bennonton’s voice broke into a moan. “And I have dreamed of this every night for so long, I have lost count, bright-eyes,” he growled quietly and sucked at Zan’Dar’s lower lip.
The deepening of the kiss made him stroke Bennonton more firmly and he pressed his lover back into the tree. He squeezed and stroked up to the swollen head, delighting in the silky wetness of his pre-cum. The glass shattered against the walk and suddenly both strong hands were gripping him harder. One sank into his hair to secure him without a chance of escape. Zan’Dar was devoured by the heat of the kiss and the agile tongue that filled his mouth. He tangled with him in an insistent war together and apart as his lover moaned.
Zan’Dar got the front of Bennonton’s breeches down at last, freeing the glorious cock to the night air and he slowly eased to his knees.
“Bright-eyes,” Bennonton moaned, trying to prevent him but another slow stroke broke his resolve.
“I need you,” Zan’Dar whispered. “And I cannot wait a moment longer to have you.” He was a little giddy in his desperation.
The sweetness of his pre-cum tasted even better than any fantasy he’d woven together. The scent of him more intoxicating than the wine spilled on the path beside him. He cupped the heavy balls in his fingers and squeezed slowly wh
ile he ran his lower lip over the silken head. The general widened his stance; his hands stroked through Zan’Dar’s long curls before tightening in his pleasure. He uttered a low, needy growl but he did not try to force the control.
“Oh, lords above. I love your mouth. That perfect, sweet mouth.” Bennonton’s words were barely a whisper. His whole body trembled as he rocked his hips forward, offering himself.
Parting his lips, Zan’Dar rolled his tongue around and over the silken glans before closing his lips around the flared crown. Bennonton’s low whispers continued, complimenting his tongue and the heat of his mouth. When Zan’Dar’s fingers squeezed his balls, rolling the globes carefully, the sweet heat of his pre-cum coated his seeking tongue. It was too much. His cock ached in response, straining against his too tight breeches.
“I’m going to show you how good this feels my sweet mouthed lover. Oohh gods. Gods!”
When Zan’Dar took him deeper down his throat, the words broke into a choked snarl. Sliding his hands to each powerful hip, Zan’Dar encouraged the big man to rock towards him and take his mouth. The thick cock slid deeper into his throat, slick and arching up against the roof of his mouth as it filled him. He couldn’t quite breathe in the sweetness of his feathered groin. The plumage teased his lips as he deep throated his lover’s cock.
The quick, gasping sounds of pleasure and the quickening of the pulse under his tongue were all that Zan’Dar needed. He knew instinctively that Bennonton was close. The unsteady, shuddering jerks of his hips grew more pronounced as Zan’Dar sucked the delicious cock hungrily. Zan’Dar encouraged him to be rough, moaning around the hard flesh that drove deeper and harder down his throat He could feel the swollen base of his cock, the knot Bennonton had promised. His cock tightened even more, painfully straining for freedom.
“Oh gods. Zan’Dar! My sweet Zan’Dar.” The rough, broken cry of pleasure peaked at the moment the hot cum shot down his throat and filled his mouth. Over and over the powerful cock swelled and bucked, spraying the silken, hot seed across his tongue. He was not expecting him to taste so good. More than just the favor of the sweet heat, the act itself was intensely intimate. He moaned in response and encouragement, sucking and swallowing every drop.
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