Valgar
It was like the dam had broken and there was no putting it back together. Quincy had a fur-lined cloak of his own now, a deep blue with the Saranian seal and eagle embroidered in silver on the back, and he was becoming accustomed to the colder climate.
Their walks were important, because he still had plenty of work to do and he could barely keep his hands off Quincy when they were indoors.
Sometimes he caught himself staring even in front of Mar. Not that Mar wanted him to restrain himself. She’d told him directly that it served none of them to pretend.
And Mar had truly enjoyed watching them kiss, yes, but that didn’t mean she was ready for everything.
Valgar was not.
Not when it could disrupt the fragile equilibrium he’d reached with them both.
Maybe Mar wanted to speed things along, but his lady had been ahead of him for fifteen years, she surely knew she needed to be patient by now.
But even with both bonds wide open, perhaps it was inevitable that she’d find them.
He looked up as her shock ran through him and met her wide green eyes.
Bondmates could locate each other, but only if they meant to do it.
Quincy was already scrambling to cover his lap, turning to follow Valgar’s gaze. Doing this in the stables had been somewhat unwise, so much for their walks being an opportunity for them to develop other types of intimacy...
Mar cleared her throat, eyes flickering all over them both.
They had put on quite the scene: Quincy sprawled over some hay, dark hair in disarray, cheeks blooming with colour, tunic barely disguising how little the interruption had dampened his interest.
Valgar’s mouth still tasted of his cock, the intense saltiness of it an unexpected pleasure he’d indulged in often. He licked his lips, eyes seeking the evidence of what he knew was there. And Mar’s presence was doing nothing to dispel the heavy weight between his own legs.
“I...” She laughed, shaking her head. “My apologies, I have been...” Valgar could feel her embarrassment, except it wasn’t just that; there was something sweet underneath, as if she.
.. But of course, she was, she had told him so.
“Well, I have had to do my best to ignore it, or I wouldn’t get anything done. ”
He suddenly felt like a complete idiot. Who had he been truly sparing but himself?
“Mar,” Quincy said, facing her now behind the pile of hay. It was probably high enough for decency. “It is I who owes you an apology. I didn’t... No, of course, I knew you could feel it, but...” Valgar saw his shoulders stiffening.
“No apologies,” Mar told him, and she couldn’t tell what Quincy was feeling, so she crossed the distance and took hold of his hands, those very hands that had been buried in Valgar’s hair minutes earlier.
Quincy twitched, as if to pull back, but to his shock, Valgar realised it wasn’t because he didn’t want her touch.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
“Oh.” His lady was no fool. “So you...”
“I didn’t mean to—” Quincy yanked his hands off hers, stumbling backwards until Valgar had to reach out and steady him.
“Quincy, I don’t mind!” Mar cut in, even as Quincy sidestepped away from Valgar too.
He didn’t stop, almost running as he went for the door right behind Mar.
Neither of them tried to stop him.