A Heart Disguised 1 (The Demon Lords of Aethoria)

18. Darius

18

Darius

D arius’ gaze lingered on Robin, who lay sprawled across the bed, a vision of disheveled beauty. The boy’s long hair, a cascade of pale silk, fanned out like a halo around his flushed face, a stark contrast to the rumpled sheets that bore evidence of their fierce coupling. His skin, usually so porcelain, now held the flush of arousal, a delicate pink that painted his cheeks and spread across his chest, enhancing the ethereal allure that had so captivated Darius from the start.

The sight of Robin, trembling and breathless, stirred a primal satisfaction within Darius. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss upon his wife’s lips. The soft groan that escaped Robin was music to his ears—a song of desire and an unwitting invitation for more.

“Is it… over?” Robin asked, his voice tremulous, a mixture of satiation and the hunger for more.

Darius chuckled, the sound low and throaty, resonating with the promise of untold pleasure. “Far from it, little bird. We have only just begun.” He traced the contours of Robin’s jaw with a finger, his touch a featherlight promise of what was to come. “It is our wedding night, and I fully intend to cherish my bride until the first light of dawn graces the sky.”

Robin’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear mingling with the undeniable spark of excitement. Darius found the dichotomy of emotions dancing across Robin’s face to be utterly enchanting, and he drank in the sight, his hunger for the boy reigniting with a vengeance.

Darius resumed his exploration of Robin’s body, pressing soft, worshipful kisses from the delicate shell of his ear down to the sensitive hollow of his throat. His hands roamed with gentle insistence, caressing the smooth planes of Robin’s chest, the dip of his waist, the flare of his hip.

As he positioned himself at Robin’s entrance once again, Darius marveled at the exquisite tightness that awaited him, a sensation that was as intoxicating as it was arousing. With a single, smooth thrust, he was enveloped in a velvet embrace, the feeling of Robin’s heat clenched tightly around him sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

Darius began to move, each stroke intended to drive them both to greater heights of ecstasy. He watched with rapt attention as Robin’s body undulated beneath him, an erotic dance that spoke of passion and the overwhelming need for release.

Robin clung to Darius, his fingers digging into the duke’s back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re so big… just… oh gods…” Robin panted.

The sound of Robin’s voice, raw with need, spurred Darius on. He drove into Robin with measured strokes, each one designed to stoke the fire that burned between them. And then Robin’s climax hit with the force of a maelstrom. His back arched off the bed as he cried out in release, his seed spilling hot and wet against Darius’ abdomen. His orgasm was a violent thing, his body convulsing around Darius’ own.

Darius savored every moment, every shudder that racked Robin’s slender frame. The sight of his bride writhing in the throes of passion was a vision. Robin’s release triggered Darius’ own, a fierce wave of pleasure sweeping through him, leaving in its wake a profound sense of satisfaction and an unexpected tenderness for the brave, beautiful soul entwined with his.

The duke held Robin close as the aftershocks rippled through them both, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths slowly evening out in the hushed quiet that followed. It was a moment etched into Darius’ memory, one he knew he would revisit again and again in the quiet nights to come.

As the clamor of their mingled cries faded into the gilded rafters, a new tenderness settled over them. Darius, with a gentleness that belied his formidable stature, gathered Robin into his arms. The boy’s body, still quivering from their shared climax, melted against him like warm honey, fitting perfectly into the contours of Darius’ embrace.

“Where are you spiriting me away to now, my lord?” Robin murmured, his voice a drowsy purr against Darius’ skin.

“To cleanse ourselves of our delightful sins,” Darius replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “And perhaps to commit a few more.”

The en suite bathroom was a veritable ode to hedonism, as if Cupid himself had scattered his love dust upon every surface. At its heart lay a steaming pool, its waters a heady concoction of fragrant oils and flower petals that danced atop the surface.

“Good heavens,” Robin chuckled, “did the cupids lose a wager? This looks like the aftermath of one of their more… enthusiastic parties.”

Darius’ laughter echoed off the walls, a rich sound that mingled with the gentle lapping of water. “Perhaps they’re simply trying to keep pace with our own enthusiasm, my impish bride.”

He waded into the pool, the warm water a welcome caress against his skin, and set Robin down with exaggerated care. The boy immediately pushed away, swimming with all the grace of a drunken duck, yet with an infectious joy that had Darius’ heart swelling with unexpected tenderness.

Settling onto the submerged bench, Darius watched as Robin attempted a series of increasingly ridiculous aquatic acrobatics. Each failed somersault and sputtering emergence from beneath the water’s surface only endeared the boy to him more.

“You swim with all the elegance of a stone,” Darius said, his tone rich with amusement. “Yet somehow, you make even that look enchanting.”

Robin stuck out his tongue in response, a gesture so childishly defiant that Darius couldn’t help but laugh. His eyes roamed over Robin’s form, drinking in the sight of his slender frame, the way his chest heaved with exertion, those pert nipples and the flat plane of his abdomen. But it was always Robin’s face, those bright-green eyes alight with mirth, that truly held Darius captive.

“Come here, you water sprite,” Darius commanded, his voice a low, enticing purr. “Let me attend to my wife properly.”

Robin swam back, a mock pout on his lips. “And here I thought I was doing such a fine job of cleaning myself.”

Darius pulled Robin into his arms, reveling in the feel of the boy’s smooth skin against his own. He took up a bar of scented soap and began to wash Robin with long languid strokes, his hands gliding over every curve and plane with reverent attention.

Robin groaned, a soft, needy sound that sent a jolt of desire straight to Darius’ core. “My lord,” he breathed, leaning into the touch, “are you merely cleaning your wife, or are you attempting to seduce me all over again?”

Darius chuckled, the sound a low rumble that vibrated through both their bodies. “My dear Robin,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of Robin’s ear, “I assure you, it is entirely possible—nay, preferable—to do both.”

With predatory grace, he leaned in, his gaze fixed on the pert nipple that beckoned to him from just above the water’s surface. Capturing the rosy peak between his lips, Darius lavished it with attention, his tongue flicking and teasing with deliberate languor.

Robin’s responding groan was music to Darius’ ears, a delicious confirmation of the pleasure coursing through his new bride’s veins. “Oh… oh my,” Robin gasped, his fingers tangling in Darius’ damp hair.

“I do believe I’ve found a weak spot,” Darius murmured against Robin’s skin, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Shall we explore it further?”

He resumed his ministrations with renewed vigor. Robin writhed beneath him, each movement sending ripples through the fragrant water.

When Darius finally released the nipple with an audible pop, he claimed Robin’s lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues engaged in a sensual duel that left them both breathless, with Robin pressing himself flush against the duke’s hardened form.

Darius’ hands roamed with wicked intent, exploring the contours of Robin’s slender body. They traced the delicate lines of his spine before dipping lower to cup the firm globes of his ass. Robin’s groan of pleasure was muffled by their kiss as Darius kneaded and caressed the sensitive flesh.

The duke ground his hardened length against Robin’s ass, delighting in the way his bride’s body instinctively sought closer contact. Robin shuddered, a low moan escaping his lips at the feel of Darius’ arousal nudging against him.

“Does my bride enjoy this?” Darius murmured against Robin’s lips, his voice husky with desire.

Robin’s response was a breathy whimper that needed no translation. Darius’ blood heated at the sound, a quiet growl of approval rumbling deep in his chest.

“Tell me,” Darius purred, nipping at Robin’s earlobe, “when you seek your own release, who is it that occupies your thoughts? What delicious fantasy fuels your desire?”

A delightful crimson blush spread across Robin’s cheeks. “I… I won’t tell,” he muttered, averting his gaze.

Darius chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. “Ah, but it would be so much more enjoyable to pleasure you with that knowledge,” he coaxed, his voice a sultry promise of delights yet to come. “Perhaps it was a strapping stable boy? Or maybe a dashing knight in shining armor?”

Robin’s eyes widened, a mixture of embarrassment and desire flickering within their depths. But still, he remained obstinately silent.

“No? Then perhaps it was a certain devilishly handsome duke?” Darius teased.

In response, Robin surged forward, capturing Darius’ lips in a fierce, demanding kiss that left the duke momentarily stunned. It was an unexpected assault—one Darius allowed only because it pleased him to see such fire in his bride.

Their kiss deepened, a frenzy of lips and tongues and ragged breaths. As their passion intensified, Darius’ hands slid lower, positioning himself at Robin’s entrance with ease. With a measured thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt, reveling in the tight heat that enveloped him.

Robin’s body tensed, a gasp of pleasure-pain caught in his throat as he adjusted to the intrusion. “You… you’re so…” Robin panted, words failing him.

“Impressive? Magnificent? Utterly irresistible?” Darius supplied helpfully, a roguish grin playing on his lips despite the intense pleasure coursing through him.

Robin let out a breathless laugh that quickly turned into a moan as Darius began to move. Each thrust was a celebration of the exquisite pleasure that arced between them. Robin’s body undulated with sinuous grace, his movements fluid and sensual, perfectly in sync with the duke’s own rhythm. The water around them churned with the intensity of their coupling.

Darius was entranced by the sight of his bride, the way his pale skin glistened with a fine sheen of perspiration, the way his hair fanned out around him like a halo of spun gold. “You’re beautiful,” Darius murmured.

As their passion spiraled ever higher, Darius found himself captivated not just by the physical beauty of the boy in his arms, but by the fierce spirit that shone through those bright-green eyes. Robin was a delightful paradox—a combination of courage and vulnerability, of innocence and burgeoning sensuality that Darius found utterly addictive.

With each powerful stroke, Darius drove them both closer to the brink, the air filled with the sounds of their mingled cries and the slap of water against the marble sides of the pool. Robin’s body clenched around him, a sure indication that his bride was teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

With a cry that echoed off the marble walls, Robin came undone, his climax triggering Darius’ own. They clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over them, their bodies trembling in the aftermath of their shared passion.

As the waves of pleasure slowly receded, Darius gathered Robin close, pressing a tender kiss to the boy’s damp forehead. “Well,” he murmured, a hint of his usual playfulness returning to his voice, “I do believe we’ve thoroughly explored the art of cleaning each other. Shall we try for another lesson?”

Robin’s cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink as he shook his head, squirming in Darius’ arms. “I fear I might melt away entirely if we continue at this rate, my lord.”

A rich, hearty laugh escaped Darius’ lips, the sound resonating through the bathing chamber like distant thunder. “Then I shall simply have to ensure you’re well-fortified, my bride,” he declared, standing from the pool. Water cascaded off their entwined bodies in rivulets, and Robin’s arms instinctively tightened around his neck.

“The towels, my lord,” Robin reminded him with a soft smile. “Lest we leave a trail of water to rival the Elysian River.”

“Indeed, we must not flood the castle on our wedding night. That would certainly put a damper on our… festivities.” He set Robin down gently, allowing him to fetch the towels, though his eyes never left the enticing sight of his new bride, dripping wet and flushed from their exertions.

Back in the sanctuary of their bedchamber, Darius deliberately steered them toward the plush area rug before the hearth, bypassing the bed entirely. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across Robin’s pale skin, creating an ethereal display that rivaled the finest art in Argentum Keep.

“Is this supposed to be more romantic?” Robin asked, his voice carrying that delightful blend of skepticism and curiosity.

“It is indeed,” Darius confirmed, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. He took up one of the towels and began to dry Robin with deliberate slowness, each stroke of the fabric an excuse to map the contours of his bride’s body. The way Robin’s breath hitched whenever Darius’ fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot was nothing short of intoxicating.

When it came time to dry himself, Robin’s hand shot out to snatch the second towel before Darius could reach it. “I’ll do it,” he declared.

Darius watched with poorly concealed amusement as Robin’s hands began their exploration under the pretense of drying him off. The boy’s fingers seemed to have developed a fascinating tendency to stray from their assigned task, trailing along the ridges and planes of Darius’ torso with barely disguised wonder.

“How long did it take you to get this chiseled?” Robin asked, his fingertips skimming along the defined ridges of Darius’ abdomen in a way that was entirely too distracting.

“Not long,” Darius replied with deliberate casualness, enjoying the way Robin’s eyes narrowed at his response.

“Must be a demon thing,” Robin muttered, though his hands continued their thorough exploration of Darius’ chest, seemingly at odds with his dismissive tone.

“Perhaps it’s just a Darius thing,” he countered, watching with no small measure of satisfaction as Robin’s fingers traced the contours of his muscles. “After all, not all demons are built the same.”

Robin nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still fixed on Darius’ torso. “You’re right. Caelum doesn’t have the same… stature. Despite your shared blood.”

“Indeed,” Darius mused, an odd note entering his voice at the mention of his younger brother. “The peculiarities of demon genetics can be… unpredictable. Even with the same parentage.” His voice shifted then, deepening to a purr as he caught Robin’s wandering hands in his own, enjoying how quickly they could move from such serious topics to more… pleasurable pursuits. “But enough about my brother. Tell me, my dear wife, do you like what you see?”

“I’ve seen finer sculptures in the castle gardens,” Robin replied with such obvious insincerity that Darius had to bite back a laugh. The boy’s attempt at nonchalance was betrayed by his wandering gaze and flushed cheeks.

“How fortunate that I am flesh and blood rather than cold marble,” Darius countered, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “And my face? Does that meet with your discerning approval?”

“Perhaps marginally better than a gargoyle’s,” Robin murmured, though his quickening breath and dilated pupils told a far different tale.

“Ah, but gargoyles serve a noble purpose, my dear—they ward off evil spirits,” Darius drawled, his voice dropping to a velvet purr. “Though I seem to be doing a poor job of it, as I’ve utterly failed to ward off a particularly bewitching little trespasser who’s stolen into my heart.” He tightened his hold on Robin’s waist, drawing him closer still. “I suppose I shall have to console myself with being a failed gargoyle, though I must confess, I find myself quite enchanted with both my wife’s body and face—far surpassing any garden statue or celestial being I’ve encountered in all my centuries.”

Without warning, he claimed Robin’s lips in a passionate kiss. The initial resistance was delicious—a token protest that lasted mere seconds before Robin melted against him like snow in summer. Those delicate arms wound their way around his shoulders, pulling him closer as their tongues engaged in an intimate dance.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Robin’s eyes had taken on that wonderfully dazed quality that Darius was quickly becoming addicted to. But there was something else in that emerald gaze—a spark of curiosity that made Darius’ lips twitch with anticipation.

“I find myself curious about these rather impressive crowning features of yours,” Robin whispered, his cheeks flushing an enchanting shade of pink at his own boldness.

Darius couldn’t quite suppress his amused smirk at the innocent request. “Your scholarly pursuits are admirable, my dear,” he replied, inclining his head to grant better access. “Consider this your first lesson in demonic anatomy. They are, after all, part of your marital property now—along with their rather imposing owner.”

Tentatively, Robin reached up, his fingers hovering for a moment before making contact with the sleek surface of Darius’ horns. The featherlight touch sent an unexpected thrill through Darius’ body—a reaction he hadn’t anticipated but found himself enjoying immensely.

“Why, my lord, they’re quite the marvel,” Robin said, his voice filled with such genuine wonder that Darius couldn’t help but chuckle. “Like polished obsidian fashioned by the finest craftsmen. Though I dare say they’re far more lethal than any ornament I’ve encountered in your halls.”

“Much like their owner—decorative yet dangerous,” he quipped, enjoying the way Robin’s fingers traced the elegant curves. “Though I must say, you’re the first to treat them with such… artistic appreciation.”

“Shall I compose a sonnet about their grandeur?” Robin teased, though his gentle caresses belied the tartness of his words. “Or perhaps an epic poem chronicling the tales of the mighty duke’s magnificent horns?”

Darius laughed, the sound rich and warm in the intimate space between them. “My, my, such literary ambitions. Though I warn you, little scholar, you’re learning far too much about your subject.” He captured Robin’s exploring hands in his own, pressing a kiss to each palm. “Your next thesis might prove dangerously accurate.”

“Consider it thorough research,” Robin retorted, his smile bright and genuine as he continued his exploration. “Though I confess, this particular study has proven far more engaging than my lessons in court etiquette.”

“Then by all means, continue your academic pursuits,” Darius murmured, drawing Robin closer. “Though I must warn you”—he brushed his lips against Robin’s ear—“some knowledge can be quite… intoxicating.”

Darius’ eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and raw desire as he took in the sight of his bride—those luscious lips parted in a teasing smile, the rosy flush that painted his delicate cheekbones, and the way his bright-green eyes sparkled with a mischief that was as enticing as it was infuriating. Robin’s exploration of his body was a delightful torment, each touch igniting a fire within Darius that threatened to consume them both.

The restraint that Darius had been clinging to frayed at the edges as Robin’s smile widened, eyes alight with mischief and curiosity. Every innocent brush of those delicate fingers sent sparks of desire coursing through him, until his gaze was inexorably drawn to the rosy peaks that crowned his bride’s chest. The sight of those pert nipples, hardened into tantalizing buds, was too exquisite a temptation to resist. With a low growl of approval, Darius leaned in, capturing one tender morsel between his lips.

Robin jolted in surprise, a sharp intake of breath that quickly morphed into a moan of pleasure. His hands, which had been so intent on their exploration, now clutched at Darius’ shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath.

Darius cherished Robin’s nipples with all the adoration they deserved, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh, grazing it with his teeth, and nipping playfully. Robin’s response was a symphony of squirms and gasps, a desperate plea for more that Darius was all too happy to oblige.

With a final, lingering kiss to each peak, Darius pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips at the sight of Robin’s flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Shall we explore more of your newfound interests?” he purred, reaching for the towel. “I find your… curiosity quite inspiring.”

Spreading the plush fabric atop the rug, Darius guided Robin down onto the makeshift bed. The flickering firelight cast a warm glow over his young bride, illuminating the delicate contours of his body in a way that made Darius’ blood run hot.

“Planning to worship every inch of me again, my lord?” Robin inquired, voice breathy with anticipation. “Or are your plans more… selective tonight?”

“Why limit myself when every part of you begs to be savored?” Darius drawled, his eyes darkening with desire. “Though that particular part of you seems especially… vocal in its demands.” He allowed his gaze to drift lower, to where Robin’s arousal stood proud and wanting.

Robin followed his gaze, a charming blush spreading across his cheeks as he glanced back up at Darius. “And what of that rather… demanding part of me?” he asked, attempting nonchalance despite the tremor in his voice.

Darius threw his head back and laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed off the stone walls of the bedchamber. “Already enchanted by my particular brand of attention, are we?” he teased, though the fire in his eyes belied his casual tone. “Fear not, little bird. That sweet morsel will receive its due consideration. Though anticipation makes everything… sweeter.”

A strangled whimper escaped Robin’s lips, his hips instinctively bucking off the floor. “Then perhaps we could skip the preliminaries?” he implored, his hands fisting in the fabric of the towel beneath him.

“Patience, my insatiable bride,” Darius chided gently, though the corners of his mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. “The finest pleasures are those we take time to savor.”

With that, he leaned down, capturing Robin’s lips in a fierce kiss that left no doubt as to his intentions.