Closer #2
Time stretched out, thin and taut. Sindar’s body radiated, his senses ablaze, as Ardor steadily repeated the process, filling himself with his consort’s seed.
The blindfold was the only thing that kept him from melting into a quivering, overstimulated mass, and that was surely why Ardor had asked him to wear it, so he didn’t dare take it off.
But he wanted to. He wanted to see his finger buried deep in that exquisite, wet, warm place, alongside Ardor’s. He wanted to see the gorgeous flush he knew was on Ardor’s face, and soak up every sound and sigh his Flower made.
Sindar didn’t bother imagining it for himself.
He was content to explore the myriad of sensations and remain present.
When Ardor gently withdrew Sindar’s finger and moved his hand aside, the sheets rustled as he rearranged them.
His hands brushed against Sindar’s face as he reached around to untie the blindfold.
The silk fell away, and they were nearly nose to nose.
The flush that normally alighted on Ardor’s cheeks had moved down his chest, which was sheen with sweat. Sindar ached to taste that sweat on his tongue, but he longed to taste his Flower’s mouth even more. His nose brushed Ardor’s.
He wanted to beg to kiss that mouth, but the look on Ardor’s face was foreign to him. Not upset. More like distracted, unsure. Sindar threw aside his longing and whispered, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Ardor said automatically.
“Don’t lie,” Sindar said. The words came out breathless and reedy, but Ardor’s eyes abruptly met his. Good goddess, he was gorgeous. Perfect. Beautiful. His sweet Ardor…
“I’m… a little overwhelmed. I’ve never been touched before. I’m sorry.”
Only Ardor would apologize for giving him something so special. “You’ve given me a gift. Never apologize for that. I’m honored. Did… did you like it? Did I please you? If not, I will do better next time.”
A pink flush settled on Ardor’s cheekbones, but Sindar sensed a current of unease along with it.
“You…” He swallowed, his throat bobbing deliciously.
He stroked Sindar’s cheek, and Sindar nearly died from the euphoric rush of that simple touch.
“You were perfect. You please me a great deal. I will see you tomorrow morning, Your Majesty.”
Sindar’s hands were clenched in the sheets.
He didn’t remember doing that, and he willfully loosened his grip, bowing his head as he backed down off the bed.
He longed to rest his cheek against the arch of Ardor’s exposed foot.
To kiss the delicate gold bangles, and the ankles above them. He wanted to beg, Let me worship you.
Ah, but he had his orders, and obedience was truly the purest form of devotion. He climbed down, accepting the robe that was placed on his shoulders. He left the garden on a cloud, a calm descending over him even as his heart buzzed with excitement.
He’d helped and pleased his Flower. He’d done something right, for once.
Sindar marched into his chambers, collapsed onto the bed, seized the first pillow, and screamed into it, “I love him!” He did it a few more times for good measure, and then he lay there, imagining Ardor’s firm body beneath his. The press of his finger. His hand on Sindar’s cock.
“Oh, your highness,” Ambani sighed, closing the door behind her. “You’re even more besotted than before.”
“I will never wash this hand!” Sindar boomed into the pillow, and he lifted his right hand high. He lifted his face and grinned at his best friend. “I please him. He told me so.”
“There will be no living with you,” Ambani said, shaking her head. “You’ll be distracted all day now.”
The grin on his face faded as the soft warmth of sexual exhilaration faded and reality gripped him with icy hands. He sat, swinging his legs around. “Bani, I want to renegotiate the marriage contract as soon as possible.”
“Lord Patel and I have discussed it. Since you are asking for more lenient terms, it will be easiest if we simply keep the current agreement in place for now and choose not to enforce a breach of contract.”
“No,” Sindar said. “I want it in writing. I don’t want anyone saying Ardor didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.”
“Your Highness, we’ve already opened the door to renegotiations by requesting the champion, and those negotiations are not going in our favor. The Archon will—“
“I don’t give a damn what she does or thinks or wants! She signed his death warrant.” But as soon as the words were out, he understood his error in thinking. The Archon agreed to Ardor’s death, but Xandar was the one who pushed for it.
Xandar. Now that he was out of that glorious, sacred marital bed, Sindar allowed his thoughts to sharpen to talons. His brother must be dealt with. Now. He wouldn’t wait a second longer. Nothing could stand between him and Ardor.
Abruptly, Sindar rose. “Where is he?”
Unease passed over Ambani’s face. “Your Highness, you are deeply besotted right now. Take some time to cool down.”
“You need me to play along with this ruse of yours. Tell me where he is.”
Ambani’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Get dressed.”
It was too late. The realization that everything he’d worked to achieve could all be undone by his brother was hitting hard and fast. If Sindar didn’t get that contract changed and Xandar came back, Ardor was doomed.
Even if he changed it, Xandar would not accept the new terms. He didn’t want Ardor to thrive and help parent their children.
He wanted a short-term broodmare, and he didn’t give a damn what happened to the Flower when his work was done.
Sindar’s love-drenched heart burned feverishly as he grabbed the front of his best friend’s blouse. “You tell me where he is right fucking now, or I will beat it out of you.”
Ambani swallowed, her eyes narrowing as Sindar backed her against the wall, but she held her ground. “Sindar, you’re not yourself right now. After what happened at the ceremony, you cannot possibly be in your right mind. You must stand down.”
“After what happened at that ceremony, I know I’m right to protect him at any cost. I’m through being a coward. Tell me where that bastard is. Don’t make me choose, Ambani. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Sindar, listen to me,” she snapped. “You’ve had direct contact with nectar for the first time. You are not thinking clearly.”
Nectar. He’d spent a fevered, desperate night reading everything the palace library offered on flowers, which wasn’t much, but he knew the term.
Nectar was a lubricating secretion unique to flowers.
Male flowers did not produce sperm of their own, hence the lack of testicles.
They ejaculated nectar when aroused. The bloom also secreted nectar.
What did that have to do with lopping off Xandar’s miserable, evil head?
“Yes, and? What is your point?”
Her pointedness had already blunted his anger. Even in his fervor, he accepted that there was a lot more he didn’t know. He didn’t resist when she slapped his hands away and smoothed her blouse. “Get dressed. You will discuss the matter with Lord Patel.”
All at once, Sindar realized what he’d done. He’d backed his best and truest friend into a corner and threatened bodily harm. He’d threatened his beloved Ambani, of all people. What the devils was wrong with him?
“Oh,” he said. “Shit. Bani, I—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s all right,” she snapped, but her tone told the truth: it absolutely was not all right. “Get dressed.” It was a testament to her irritation that she did not insist he allow the staff to dress him, as a proper king would. He did as she commanded, his mind racing.
What was the problem with nectar? Clearly, it was more than a lubricant.
As he dressed, Ambani stepped into the hall. Murmured voices, including Patel’s, echoed through the closed door, and Sindar suddenly felt like an upstart schoolboy sent to the headmaster’s office.
When Patty entered, he was alone.
Sindar’s heart clenched. He’d really screwed up. “Where’s Bani gone?”
“Away from you,” Patty said evenly. “Your brother never forgets a slight, perceived or otherwise, and Lady Ambani was a daily reminder of the alleged coup. Do you think her service to His Majesty has been easy?” A lump formed in Sindar’s throat as his mentor glared at him.
Xandar would have kept Ambani around for one reason: to make her suffer.
All these years, Xandar had surely made her life miserable.
“Have you learned nothing from me?” Patel asked.
“Never threaten an ally like that! Never! I should switch you myself. I still might.”
Sindar sat at his desk, watching as his mentor circled around to his own chair. “What’s wrong with nectar?” he asked, a bit petulantly. “Are Flowers not allowed to enjoy themselves? Is there some mandate amongst the royal families to make this process as inhumane as possible?”
“Everything you know about Flowers comes from your lessons at the academy, which you mostly ignored, and the meager offerings in the royal library. I can assure you, whatever you think you know is only part of the story.”
“I accept there’s a lot I don’t know, but that’s not my fault! You should have told me far more from the start! I’m killing him. He’s going to die sooner because of me. When were you going to tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?”
Patel sighed. “I should have seen this coming.”
“Seen what?” Sindar asked, incensed all over again. “That I would object to this barbarism? Xandar explicitly asked for his death! And you let him! How could you do that? How could you treat Ardor like some trophy to use and throw away? It’s grotesque!”
The set of Patel’s mouth was grim. “I did not approve of your brother’s aggressive negotiating tactics—“
“Negotiation tactics?” Sindar bellowed. “He’s a fucking murderer! He’s a horrible bastard!”