Tash squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaws, his back tense under Mayr's hand. When he opened his eyes again, his expression softened before he peered over his shoulder. "Sarene, lovely, patience is a blessed virtue. It's good for all things, including the heart, mind, and body. Particularly yours."
Sarene giggled and hugged Tash from behind. "You're always so caring." She rested her chin on his shoulder. "Seriously, though. I'd love to see you go at it, the both of you. Take him, Tash, just like you do me, all passionate and strong. And Mayr, darling, show him how much a man you really are. Be the rutting males I know you can be. I hear it's equally good for the heart, mind, and body."
"No." Tash sat back, pulling his hands from Mayr.
Sarene recoiled. "No? What do you mean no?"
"Precisely that." Without removing his gaze from Mayr, Tash turned his head in Sarene's direction. "I misplaced the oils I need to make it work."
"Can't you just do it without them?" Sarene pouted. "I mean, honestly, they're just oils. It's not like they're necessary—"
"No, Sarene." There was no mistaking the annoyance in Tash's voice. "They don't seem necessary to you because women are put together differently, blessed be the Goddesses in that wisdom. I'm not doing anything without them. The pain is hardly sensual."
"But you said—"
Tash cut her off with a raised hand.
Mayr watched their verbal match with disappointment. In addition to shredding the blissful moments where he forgot she was there at all, Sarene had soured the mood. I'm pretty sure we're also not going any further than this. Great, just when I was ready to—
A reassuring hand clutched his. Tash's heated glance kicked at Mayr's irritation. "There are other things we can do," Tash said. The slight decline of his head suggested he spoke more to Mayr than Sarene. "Fetch your sash, lovely."
Without wasting time, Sarene hopped off the bed and retrieved her sash.
Tash pressed his cheek to Mayr's and raked his fingers through Mayr's hair. "Trust me," he whispered, his lips warming Mayr's ear.
I already do.
Taking the sash from Sarene, Tash stood and stepped past Mayr. In the instant Tash's back was in his view, Mayr glimpsed a large bird tattooed across Tash's skin in black ink. The wings stretched out across Tash's shoulders, finely detailed like the elaborate crown of feathers and swooped tail curved around his hips. The twisted body covered his spine, its thick talons outstretched on his lower back. Mayr could not identify the bird, only that he recognized it.
Almost as quickly as he spied the tattoo, Tash was behind him, tying the sash around his eyes, plunging Mayr's sight into darkness.
"There." Tash tossed the pillows aside and slipped in behind Mayr. With one leg hanging over the edge of the bed and the other tucked beneath him, he leaned inwards. Still adjusting the blindfold, Tash drew his lips over Mayr's ear, down his jaw, and kissed a path to the thin skin along the back of his neck. Deftly, he swept Mayr's hair aside and ran his hands down Mayr's arms, guiding Mayr back into him. As Tash's hands traversed over Mayr's knuckles, he interlaced their fingers.
Mayr held Tash's hands, following along. Tash's breaths filled his ears, their calming effect interrupted by a quiet hum as Tash pulled Mayr further into him. He could not feel all of Tash's body, but he felt what mattered, including the full erection pressed against his lower back.
Tash's hands moved over Mayr's body, focusing his attention on his own erection. Already aching from the quiet moments with Tash, his cock strained. Arousal flared from wherever Tash touched. Every time Tash's palms glided down and up his chest, Mayr hoped for more. Desperation led to deep, drawn-out groans whenever Tash teased his nipples or toyed with the patch of dark hair leading to his cock. Every caress across his shoulders and arms, every kiss to his neck, and he was nearly undone. Each tender touch seduced him, their ability to push him toward release heightened by his lack of sight.
So this is where trust in you leads—
Mayr cried out as Tash gripped his cock, fingertips brushing his tightened sac. Hips thrusting, he forced himself deeper into Tash's grasp, lolling his head over Tash's shoulder.
Tash moaned and buried his face in Mayr's neck. "Yes," he murmured, stroking fervently. After fumbling across Mayr's jaw until Mayr turned his face toward him, his lips found Mayr's, taking his mouth gently.
A moment later, they abandoned the soft kiss, overcome by a surge of passion. Deep and full, the kiss stole their breaths in a series of moans that demanded more the longer they held onto each other. Pouring everything he felt against the strength of Tash's lips, Mayr forgot everything except the mounting release ramming against his insides. Behind him, Tash ground against Mayr's back, his need obvious.
If only they could…
Tash's fingertips circled the head of Mayr's cock, driving Mayr to the edge of insanity.
Mayr jerked back, clamping down on Tash's forearms to keep Tash's hands where they were. It was too much to take. He rocked with the rhythm of Tash's hand, rolling his hips. A strange wave of familiarity washed over him. He wished he could drive his sex into Tash and let himself go. Let all of the pain go. The fear. The agony of rejection. Everything. Give it all to a man he knew little about, but felt as if he had known forever.
"Sarene." Tash's voice was quiet but commanding. His free hand moved.
The mattress shifted with Sarene's unsteady weight. Her lips stumbled over his and worked their way down his body, daring him to come. She took his cock into her mouth greedily and guided the swollen head deep into her throat.
One more touch and I'm… I can't…
"Let go," Tash whispered. "Surrender. Let it happen." His lips settled behind Mayr's ear, above the neck where the skin was most sensitive.
In the small of his back, Mayr felt the warm trickle of Tash's pre-release. The thought of Tash coming because of him…
Release pounded through Mayr, pulling every muscle. He cried out and clung to Tash. Sarene worked rigorously, sucking back the spurts of release. If only it were him. Eyes closed, Mayr imagined Tash's mouth on him, swallowing his cock over and over again.
The rush over, Mayr ripped off the blindfold. Sarene sat back on her legs near the end of the bed, her face flushed and lips glistening.
Tash kissed Mayr's shoulder before he stood. "You should rest," he said, going to Sarene. As she started to wipe her mouth, he shook his head. "Don't. Just leave it."
Kneeling on the side of the bed, Tash pushed Sarene onto her back. She lay across the bed near Mayr's feet, her body visible from the side. Tash positioned himself between her thighs and drew her legs up around his hips. When he slid into her with ease, she groaned and scratched his shoulder. His thrusts were quick, determined. The wet sound of his sex moving in and out of hers combated the silence. His tongue flickered across her lips, lapping them dry before kissing her hard.
From where he lay, Mayr watched Tash deliver one hard thrust after another. For a moment, Mayr's glance strayed to Sarene's breasts and hips, but returned to Tash. There was a beauty to the contracted muscles in his arms and back. Mostly it was the way the shaded feathers of Tash's tattoo spread whenever Tash's back pulled taut. The sight of Tash's body, hard and tight from shoulder to leg, made Mayr want to come again.
Without warning, Sarene cried out and held tight to Tash. He rammed into her and stilled, groaning into her shoulder.
Instantly, Tash looked to Mayr, his gaze filled with want and need.
Mayr's insides felt as if they flipped and danced. They played games with his twisted emotions, stealing all thought and consciousness from his mind, rendering him speechless. He had not felt that way in a long time. Not with Sarene, and not with any of the women before her.
The last time he had felt it, it was with his former wife.
Recovered enough to stand, Tash crossed the room to the washing bowl on the round table beside the hearth. He carried both the bowl and clean, folded cloths to the bed. After he placed the bowl on the floor,
he offered Sarene one cloth before wetting the other.
Once more, Tash stood behind Mayr. He held the moist cloth to Mayr's neck, cooling the skin before wiping away the evidence of him on Mayr's back. Just as he finished and started to wash Mayr's chest and groin, his gaze caught Mayr's. Contrary to the small smile Tash offered, a strange sadness haunted his eyes. Reluctance peeked out from beneath.
And here we go again, Mayr thought, torn between wanting Tash to say something and being grateful for the silence. He doesn't make any sense. I don't make any sense. Nothing about this entire situation makes any lick of blessed sense. It'd be all wrong if it didn't feel all right.
Taking the cloth from Tash, Mayr finished cleaning himself. He silently offered to return the favour, but Tash shook his head and accepted the cloth back, then took Sarene's.
"I'm leaving as it is." Tash tossed the cloths into the bowl and returned it to the table. "I don't like to stay long." He gathered his clothes from the chair and dressed. "Staying too long screams of permanence and attachment—two things I neither want nor need. Besides," he added, gesturing to Sarene before buckling his belt, "this was supposed to be about the two of you. It's best if I leave now and let you revel in your relationship."
Disappointment lashed at Mayr. He was going to be alone with her for the rest of the night? No parting words to put him further at ease. No expectation of reciprocation. Just Mayr and Sarene left to say to each other whatever it was a couple said after sharing their bed with someone else.
Tash donned his robe and dipped his head. "I'll see you both in days to come, I hope. Thank you for inviting me into the sacredness that has bound you. May the Goddesses continue to bless you with good health and fair being." He left the room, adding insult to the invisible wound torn into whatever part of Mayr's existence belonged to Tash.
"Does he always do that?" Mayr asked.
Sarene yawned and curled up beside him, her hands tucked between his chest and hers. "What? Leave?"
"Yeah."
"Sure." She fingered a strand of her disheveled hair. "He's a priest. What can I say? They're never exactly on the same plane as the rest of us. They kind of have to be a little strange to spend all their time as religious servants. And some of them even give up sex. What is with that? Sounds like a sacrifice not worth making, especially if they're just going to grovel all day." Sarene cuddled against him, her head on his shoulder. "He'd be such a waste on it."
Silence followed Sarene's words. Several long moments later, her body relaxed as she fell asleep.
Mayr lay awake, staring at the ceiling as candlelight flickered across the beams. With Sarene in his arms, he should have been thinking about her. About why he was there; why he grappled to hold on to someone like her. About what the next day would bring and whether or not Sarene was happy.
Yet all of his thoughts were preoccupied with Tash.
Tightening his arm around Sarene reminded him of how it felt being in Tash's arms. The kiss he planted on Sarene's forehead dragged up the sensation of the sweet way Tash kissed him, as though Mayr was not accustomed to fighting and arresting criminals. As if he was fragile.
As if Tash cared about him.
Reality hit him hard, suffocating him with a new truth. Sarene may have been the one he was after, but Tash was the one he actually wanted.
Chapter Three
Sarene was out of the bed and bustling around the room before Mayr opened his eyes. The new day was upon them as though nothing had happened the night before, the intensity of the sunlight suggesting it was midmorning.
And I fell asleep at dawn. Mayr silenced a groan and pressed his palms to his heavy eyelids. Plagued by thoughts he wanted to forget, he had lain awake, considering what he should tell Sarene. Nothing. Tell her nothing. Or tell her it was fine and carry on? Or that it was good and suggest it again? Dammit, I don't know. I don't even know what got into me. For all I know, it was a fluke—it won't ever happen again. Maybe I was imagining it. Or making it into something it wasn't.
Except doubt feasted on his justifications and threatened to rip them apart. There was still the matter of feeling connected to Tash even without words. Something beyond the tangled bed sheets and sexual desire.
A loud thump and muted clatter beside the bed startled him. Wide-eyed, Mayr sat up to study the bedroom. He looked down to find his black boots lying haphazardly on the floorboards where Sarene had tossed them. The knife he kept in his right boot was on the floor, hidden under the bed, the tip of its black and gold hilt sticking out from under the frame.
Sarene giggled, moving away from the foot of the bed where his boots had originally sat. "You should get up, darling. Things to do. I'm sure Aeley will want you back to work. There's always something, isn't there?" She teased her fingers through her hair and smoothed the blonde strands before twisting and tying them back with her pink ribbon. "Mmm, it's a good morning. I can't believe I didn't do this before. I feel so good. It was so invigorating. And he's so amazing."
Sighing wistfully, she slipped into her dress. "I told you he was good. Wasn't he good? Too bad I didn't meet him until a few months ago. We could've had this much fun well before now. I wouldn't have had to put up with so many disappointments." Sarene paused and tilted her head, her crinkled sash in her hand. "You know, I never thought about it, but maybe it's a priest thing. Maybe they just know how to please people better. Maybe it's part of their training. There's a love Goddess, right? Maybe She has secrets only they know."
Without looking to Mayr for a response, she laughed and tied the sash around her waist. "Or not. Maybe he's just naturally perfect." Hands on her hips, she glanced around the room. "I think that's all I brought. Everything else is yours." Sarene smiled sweetly, curving her elbows inward and squeezing her waist flirtatiously. "Could you settle the rest of what we owe Orae, sweetheart? I would, but I didn't bring anything with me and I really have to get going. My sister just won't wait for me before she starts picking through the market. She's so impatient!"
Before Mayr could ask her to toss him his shirt, she blew him a kiss and flounced toward the door. "Thanks, darling. I'll see you later. I'll come by the estate when I get a chance."
The next moment, she left the room.
Mayr stared at the closed door. She couldn't have gotten out of here any quicker. Here she was; off she goes. And I'm left settling the fee. As if I didn't see that coming. Typical Sarene, he reminded himself, getting out of the bed to put on his pants and shirt. She was the same as she was before they broke up, not that he expected her to change. It also was not worth a fight. Worse women existed.
Like the one he had married.
Tried to marry, he corrected. There's a difference. You keep missing that. It doesn't make it any less true.
That one lie made every other relationship even more important. The driving force behind why he needed to fix things with Sarene. One day, a relationship would work out and he could stop cursing Betta for her lies. One day, he would stop trying to be perfect enough for someone to stay. One day, he would stop killing himself in the process.
Was it too much to hope for someone to care as much as a complete stranger had?
Mayr pulled on his boots, memories of Tash hijacking his angry thoughts. Whenever Tash had focused on Mayr, it changed everything. He had felt cared for. As though Tash had looked beyond Mayr's title and appearance to tend to the part of him no one could see and few rarely cared about.
Ah, now you're just making things up, my sappy, utterly bitter self. You need to quit that. It'll just get you kicked in the balls or worse: actually marrying someone for real this time. Do you really need that? In all honesty, why do you care?
He sighed. Because time was fickle, as was lying in the dark, alone, night after night, deciding what to do with a life he had worked hard to earn. And for what? Himself?
Fully dressed, Mayr bent down to retrieve his knife.
Beside it, barely visible, a thin, dark cord peeked out from under the bed. Once he
leaned further, he made out the silhouette of a small pouch.
Curious, he picked up the pouch, surprised to find it resembled Tash's.
Didn't he take it with him? It was hanging on his belt when he left. Mayr's brow furrowed, a memory nudging his attention. Or maybe it wasn't. He stared at the bag. There were a couple of ways to find out, the most immediate method within his purview as Head of the Guard and an agent of the law in Kattal. I'll just make sure it's nothing dangerous before I figure out who it belongs to. Can't be too trusting, not after what Ae's gone through. And the Goddesses know I don't trust Lira's family further than I can poke them.
After he opened the bag and sorted through the contents, there were no doubts. Along with the handful of bronze and silver coins were Tash's talon-shaped ring and silver chain. There was also a wooden container just small enough to sit inside his curved palm. When he unscrewed the lid, a potent, sweet fragrance wafted through the air. The container was half-filled with oil, and it did funny things to his gut. The scent reminded him of red corina plant mixed with millee nectar. One was used by healers to relax skin and muscles. The other heightened the senses and encouraged arousal—the same effect it had on him the longer he stood there sniffing it, wishing he could press his naked body to Tash's and drown in the sound of low moans.
He capped the container. Why was the pouch under the bed? It should have remained attached to Tash's belt. Unless…
No. He wouldn't lie, would he? Mayr eyed the container, his suspicions telling him what it was for. He had almost forgotten the argument between Sarene and Tash over oil. 'Misplaced,' he said. If that's true, what's this? Far as I can tell, he had exactly what he needed.
Why would Tash lie to Sarene?
Bombarded with more questions than answers, Mayr returned everything to the pouch. He would return it before he went back to the estate. Otherwise, it would taunt him for the rest of the day, worse than his memories already did.
To his relief, no one bothered him as he went downstairs to speak to Orae, the tiny, white-haired woman who owned the tavern. On his way back from visiting Tash, he would settle the account for the room and meal.
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