Chapter Twenty-Three
J em only broke the kiss when he was forced to gasp for breath. Cador kicked the door shut, and they stumbled to the carpet beside the bed. Jem inhaled Cador’s mossy scent deeply, elation and desire blossoming.
“You’re my husband, and I’m no virgin,” Jem mumbled between kisses, spreading his legs for Cador to rut against him, welcoming his crushing weight. No more games or denial.
But he could feel the book still wedged in Cador’s vest, and he pushed against his shoulders. “Wait, wait.”
Sitting back on his heels, Cador panted, rubbing himself through his sodden leather trousers. “Will you punish me now by waiting?” He smiled, but it was strained—as if he truly feared Jem would deny him and made a jest of it.
“No.” Jem sat up and kissed him. “I forgive you. No more punishment.” He squeezed his hands into Cador’s vest, carefully easing out the soaked book.
“Fuck, did I ruin it? I’m sorry.”
“You rescued it! Thank you.” Jem gingerly set it on the table before snagging the vial of oil.
“After what I did before, tossing away your books… I had to.” Cador’s face flushed, and he let his arms hang at his sides.
Jem crawled into his lap. “I forgive you. That seems like a lifetime ago now.”
“It does. I can barely imagine a time when I didn’t care for you. When I didn’t love you so much it hurts.”
They lost themselves in kissing again, the fervor flowing into long, slow slides of tongues and exploration as they caught their breath and peeled off ruined clothes.
When Jem sank down, sheathing Cador’s cock inside his slick, tender arse, they groaned and kissed messily.
They were bedraggled and mud-streaked, Jem’s thighs spread wide over Cador’s, facing him this time.
Had it been only hours since they’d rutted like beasts in the forest?
At least now, Jem’s wardrobe of breeches was close at hand. He laughed.
Cador spread his hands wide over Jem’s ribs, a quizzical smile on his kiss-slick lips. “What?”
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t stop laughing. It all felt like a strange dream to be back in Neuvella, and now so much had happened he wasn’t sure what to think about anything. “Perhaps I’ve gone mad. Will you still have me?”
Cador flashed a deliciously feral grin before kissing Jem with deep sweeps of his tongue. He thrust up into Jem’s sore body. “I’ll take you in every way you can imagine.”
“Mmm. I can imagine so many scenarios.”
Cador took Jem’s face in his hands, blue eyes searching. “You truly forgive me?”
“With all my heart. If I hide away and never give you a second chance, what good will that do me?” He squeezed around Cador’s cock seated deep inside. “What good would it do me to still love you and deny ourselves a future?”
“Your face is meant to smile, and I will see you smiling for the rest of our days.”
Jem could only kiss him, their movements suddenly frantic with lips and hands insatiable. “Fuck me. Hard. The way I need. Give me your seed and—mmph!” He laughed again as Cador tumbled him back on the carpet.
Though he covered Jem with his big body, thrusting into him with long strokes, Cador took care. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“Never too much,” Jem moaned, though his arse was sore. “More.”
“My insatiable little prince.” Cador pressed kisses to Jem’s face. He rocked into Jem with slow, sensuous movements.
Jem was pinned the way he loved. He let himself go lax, taking every inch of Cador’s shaft with joyous shouts and mumbles, his knees high and wide, reveling in how Cador mastered his body and soul.
He wasn’t a fictional prince and Cador was no woodsman. This was his husband, and even if they’d had little say when they married, they chose each other now.
“I wouldn’t change it,” Jem gasped, grasping for Cador’s branded hand and pressing their palms tightly. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
Cador squeezed his hand as he angled his hips to rub the perfect spot inside Jem. “Mine forever.”
Jem could only cry out, a wildfire of ecstasy deep inside him. While the pleasure had been undeniable when they’d been playacting, it was all the sweeter now.
After Cador filled him, he sucked Jem to release, white drops escaping his lips and clinging to his new beard. He nuzzled low between Jem’s splayed legs, and Jem didn’t squirm away from his gentle inspection of his stretched hole.
He only flinched when, his head resting on Cador’s broad chest, hair tickling his cheek, Cador traced one of the fresh scratches on Jem’s skull. They were still on the carpet, the bed seeming impossibly high and far away.
“I’ll try to stop,” Jem whispered. In time, he was sure the compulsion would fade.
Tension rippled through Cador’s body beneath him. “I failed you. But I swear I’ll never let you be hurt again.”
Jem had to laugh. “You can try, at least.”
“I will!” Cador sat up suddenly, bringing Jem with him, his handsome face so earnest. “I give you my vow.”
Curled in his barbarian’s lap, Jem made his own pledge. “I love you. Always.”
They could have kissed for hours, and perhaps they did before a rapid, familiarly insistent knock interrupted. Cador groaned, “What now?”
“It’s Santo.” Jem called out, “Coming!” before groaning himself as he heaved to his feet, muscles protesting, and fetched a silky robe. He tossed a blanket at Cador, who’d flopped back down on the carpet. Jem opened the door, Santo practically tumbling in.
“Oh, Jem!” They hugged him close. “Mother and Father insisted you were unhurt, but I had to see for myself.”
“I’m fine, yes.” Jem squeezed them affectionately. “You and Arthek are too?”
“Yes, we were busy helping—” Their gaze found Cador on the carpet. Dismay creased their face. “Oh! You’re napping. I didn’t mean to…” They frowned at Jem. “I hoped you were reconciled?”
“We are,” Jem assured them.
Cador said, “We were fucking. Couldn’t make it to the bed.” His hands were folded behind his head, the blanket haphazardly covering his midsection, his hairy thighs poking out.
“Oh!” Santo grinned. “I’m very glad to hear it.” Toying with their braid, they gave Cador an approving nod. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of my baby brother.”
“Thank you.” Cador said it solemnly, which made Jem smile.
Santo cheerfully added, “And don’t forget my husband will have you killed if you mess up again. Now, there’s much work to be done. I’d say you two need a bath, but all hands are needed in the village after the flooding. We must help our people.”
Cador stood, apparently uncaring that the blanket pooled at his feet. “I’m ready.”
“That you are. Still, there’s time for trousers.
” They mock sighed, winking at Jem. “Sadly.” Their smile faded.
“Do you think we can trust Prince Treeve? I suppose it’s King Treeve now.
Well, it will be officially after the ceremony at the Holy Place.
Who knows when that will be. First fires, now floods!
I hope Ergh fares better.” They grimaced.
“Aside from this terrible disease. I’m so sorry about your nephew, Cador.
Gods, everything has become so complicated. ”
“Yes,” Jem said. “But we’ll manage. We’ll have to.”
Santo’s dear face brightened again. “Indeed. What would Morvoren do?”
“She’d get on with it,” Cador answered. “While fucking her merman every chance she gets.”
Santo winked. “As ever, let Morvoren be our guide.”
*
The Holy Place still needed seat cushions.
Jem shifted restlessly on the hard stone chair.
Ysella was on the raised dais in the courtyard’s center, droning on and on.
Jem would have thought she’d said all she could possibly say at Treeve’s coronation the day before, but apparently the Feast of the Blood Moon came with its own set of sermons.
Across the way, Santo gave Jem a wink. They wore tight breeches and a flowing silk shirt with billowing sleeves, their hair twisted into fine braids that were surely Arthek’s work. Beside them, Arthek sat peacefully, his little finger linked with Santo’s.
The rest of Jem’s family stretched across the front row of Neuvella’s side, his parents appearing to listen attentively to Ysella. Pasco and Locryn and their wives were there too, the children mercifully spared the boredom.
How strange to be back at the Holy Place but be sitting in Ergh’s section.
Beside Jem in full leather, Cador seemed unbothered by the ridiculously hard chairs, but he was undoubtedly bored senseless and hot.
Jem wore leather trousers as a nod to Ergh, along with a fine purple silk shirt in the Neuvellan style.
His cousins from Gwels were resplendent in their brightly colored clothing, Treeve and the Ebrennians wearing more sedate styles since of course they were officially mourning for King Perran.
In truth, Jem had never seen them looking so cheerful, and he couldn’t blame them one bit. Perran’s crown that had been lost in the flooding hadn’t been found, and Treeve wore a new headpiece of many emeralds that didn’t quite match his mourning garb.
Cador leaned low and whispered, “When does the actual feast begin?”
Jem didn’t answer, stifling a chuckle. On his other side, Delen hissed, “Can’t be soon enough.”
Kenver ignored them, though he’d taken off his curved tusk headdress an hour earlier when it seemed clear Ysella was nowhere near finishing.
Jem figured it was fair enough—this was her domain after all, and she was surely angered at being cut out of most meetings now between the four kingdoms of Onan. Here, she still ruled.
Of course many people worshiped the gods, so she held significant sway even if the political leaders wished to lessen her influence.
Mother and the others treated her with utmost deference, which was wise.
At least Jem and Cador had been spared most of the political negotiations in the months after the floods.