Together
SINDAR WAS TRYING very, very hard not to lose his mind.
He mustn’t overdo it. He kept saying that to himself, even as he sent away outfit after outfit, and fussed incessantly over his hair and his makeup and whatever else he could think of.
I made Ardor come.
The thought sent a shiver through him each time. He’d made his Beloved come. And based on Ardor’s reaction, he was certain his Beloved had never experienced that before. He was the first to make Ardor feel that way.
Sindar was overwhelmed with delight. He had to do something, so he pumped his fist in victory. One maid quickly covered her face to hide a smile.
Oh, sweet Goddess, night would not arrive soon enough! Should he arrange for dinner? No, he was too excited. He couldn’t eat. All he could think about was Ardor. Ardor, Ardor, Ardor…
When night finally arrived, Sindar forced himself to walk at a respectfully regal pace to Ardor’s apartment. Sindar took stock of himself as he stood before the door. He would be dignified about this. He was a king, damn it.
Sindar knocked briskly, and Leya opened the door. “Oh, Your Majesty,” she said, beaming up at him. “Please come in.”
As Sindar crossed the threshold, Ardor’s sweet musk wrapped around him, like a giant hand squeezing him into malleable clay.
Sindar cleared his throat as an excellent heat washed over him.
He would be dignified. He would approach his lover calmly and be as handsome as possible while doing it.
Sindar regulated his breathing, slow and steady, as he crossed into the sitting room.
Ardor was not in his customary seat by the window.
Ah, he was in his bedroom.
Sindar gulped down a fleeting moment of panic. He’d wanted this for so long, and now he was almost as terrified as he was eager. He knocked once, gently, before opening the door.
The moment that seal was broken, Ardor’s sweet scent slammed into him like a stampede of horses. Sindar bit back a gasp as his cock throbbed even harder, nearly to the point of pain. He’d always responded quickly to Ardor’s fragrance, but this was different. Very different. Why?
He shoved the door open all the way and nearly had a heart attack.
Ardor sat on the edge of the bed, his lower half swathed in silken sheets.
The full length of his right leg was exposed, his skin covered with glittering sacred symbols, delicate gold bangles at his ankles.
His silver hair was partly brushed back over his shoulder, framing delicate, glittering earrings.
He was breathtakingly beautiful as he lounged on the bed adorned in gold, his pale skin covered with glittering body paint.
Sindar was instantly out of his clothes. How he couldn’t say. He didn’t even remember removing them. He went to his knees, his cock throbbing, and crawled.
Oh, sweet angels…
“Darling,” Ardor said, with such clear affection Sindar almost came right there.
“I’m here,” he croaked, focusing all his will on crawling to that slender, bangled foot. He made it, and with trembling fingers, he touched the arch of his lover’s foot.
A soft sigh escaped Ardor’s perfect mouth.
Sindar kissed his foot. Carefully, at first, then more fervently. He ran his hands up Ardor’s calf, nearly groaning at the warm, firm skin beneath his palms. He was touching the father of his children. Touching him. Touching.
“Sweet goddess, let me kiss you,” he babbled. He risked a glance upward, not sure what he’d find, and his cock pulsed when he was greeted with amusement, pleasure, and heat.
“I think you’re already doing that,” Ardor said lightly, teasing, and Goddess help him—that soft, flirty voice would surely be his undoing.
“No,” Sindar managed, still breathlessly kissing his way up Ardor’s leg. “I mean—please—let me kiss your flower…” When Ardor didn’t immediately answer, he rolled his eyes upward, and his cock jumped at the frankly gorgeous blush of arousal that covered his lover’s face.
“You…” Ardor swallowed. Unmistakably, his cock was hardening under the silk. “You want to kiss me there, even after…”
“Please,” Sindar breathed, kissing the side of Ardor’s knee.
“It gives you pleasure. It makes you come. I want to see you come again so badly.” He ran his hand up Ardor’s other leg, enjoying the soft silk against his Flower’s firm body.
He tugged at the sheet, but didn’t pull it away.
Not yet. “Please, let me worship all of you.”
Ardor made a ridiculously sexy noise. “You may,” he said, his voice rough, and Sindar dragged the sheet away. He was met with a rush of perfume. Ardor had never smelled so potent or enticing, and that was really saying something.
The sacred stencils stopped mid-thigh, giving the appearance of thigh-highs, which made the markings even more alluring. Sindar moved slowly up Ardor’s thigh, gently kissing, his nose dragging against Ardor’s leg.
Ardor bit back a moan as his flower, which was already dewy at its beautiful curved seam, slowly opened in greeting.
The single, gorgeous petal reached toward Sindar, beckoning, and he finally got a clear look at it.
The organ was markedly different from anything humans possessed, but it was still elegant and beautiful in its own way.
This glorious flower allowed him to have children with his Beloved, after all.
It allowed him to pleasure his Beloved. He must worship it.
“Oh, goddess,” Ardor whispered. His face was flushed, his breathing uneven, as he grew wet and nectar beaded at the flower’s entrance.
Sindar leaned in, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Ardor permeated him, filled him, as he gently, ever so gently, placed a kiss on that perfect, godly opening.
Ardor’s cock rolled and shuddered, and he smothered a groan as sweet nectar spilled across his thigh. “I’m—sorry,” he managed, his hands fisted in the sheets.
Sindar wasn’t. He mustn’t dally. The rest of Ardor awaited, every inch of him deserving a kiss.
He slowly, reverently licked the curved seam, and Ardor’s leg tensed, his back arching as more nectar dribbled out of his lovely cock.
The warm nectar of his flower, sweet and musky and gloriously male, went straight to Sindar’s aching loins.
Sindar gently sucked the delicate skin, groaning at the taste and smell, his cock aching where it was pressed against the bed. He slipped his tongue into the narrow channel, and Ardor’s toes curled, his hips involuntarily angling to give him better access.
Yes, Goddess, yes…
Sindar ate reverently at the fount of the gods, gazing up as Ardor shuddered and moaned with pleasure, his fists tight in the sheets as orgasm washed over him. His Beloved was coming on his mouth, and it was glorious.
Ah, but that gorgeous cock demanded attention as well. It was hard now, and slick with nectar, and Sindar rose, kissing his way up the shaft, until he drew the sweet, sticky head into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” Ardor managed, shuddering so violently his cock slipped out of his lover’s mouth, and Sindar laughed. His laugh was warm and deep and drunk. Yes, he was drunk. He was drunk on Ardor, and that was exactly as it should be.
“I’ve never done that before,” Sindar said. “Did I do it wrong?”
Ardor grabbed him by the hair, dragging his mouth back to his cock, and Sindar laughed again. “I like seeing that greedy look in your eye,” he murmured, delighted by the permanent shade of red that now occupied Ardor’s face.
He drew the head of his lover’s cock into his mouth and sucked. He savored the warm, smooth skin and the exquisite hardness, and when Ardor cried out, his cock pulsing as hot nectar unexpectedly filled Sindar’s mouth, Sindar groaned at the sweetness of his lover’s release and swallowed it up.
The nectar was sweet and floral. He lapped at Ardor’s cock, greedily claiming it and everything it offered, as Ardor sat beneath him, dazed and disheveled and positively glorious.
“I want to—do it with you,” Ardor panted. “Do—do you need me to…” He reached for Sindar.
Sindar climbed atop him, urging him onto his back on the silk sheets, and kissed him. Ardor’s mouth was just as sweet as the rest of him. His Flower all but melted in his arms. He reached for Sindar’s cock, but once he had it, he paused, uncertain.
Sindar knew the flower’s dimensions intimately now, and Ardor was correct to hesitate. Even now, Sindar would not fit in that narrow opening.
“I want to make love and make you come,” Ardor said. “But I don’t know what to do.”
Finally, Sindar was the one who could do the teaching.
He gripped their cocks together. The feel of Ardor’s arousal and the mingling of nectar and precum was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced.
He gasped out something unintelligible, and Ardor grabbed his hip and pushed up, grinding against him.
Sindar groaned at the press of his lover’s manhood, desperately kissing Ardor’s neck, knowing he would not last, and when Ardor sank his fingers into his hair, his hips lifting, they both shuddered and came.
Ardor kept grinding against him, a deep moan in his throat, as their mingled release coated their shafts. “Please,” he said, finally, his deep voice deliciously rough, and he drew Sindar’s cock lower, to his flower. “I want this too. As much as we are able…”
Sindar watched, high on pheromones and slightly stunned by it all, as Ardor rubbed his cum-slick cock against his flower.
The slickness of that narrow opening sent a surge through him.
He couldn’t fit, he would never fit, but that didn’t matter.
The flower pulsed against him, hungry and eager, the singular petal lapping at his head and slit.
Sindar ran a hand along his shaft, gathering the cum up, and slipped his fingers inside.
Ardor grabbed him as the flower abruptly squeezed shut, his body trembling as he pressed his face to Sindar’s neck. His release was so intense his entire body bowed, fully pressing against his consort’s frame, and when it was done, he shivered fetchingly in Sindar’s arms.
Sindar soaked up his lover’s embrace, gently working his finger in and out of the clenching, eager flower, which he was fast considering a friend.
The rhythmic pulse was absurdly erotic; already, heat was building in his balls, and his cock remained as hard as ever.
At this rate, they could probably have sex for a while.
When Ardor finally released him and sagged into the sheets, his face was gloriously flushed, his perfect hair in disarray.
There were so many places left to kiss. His ear lobe.
The other side of his neck. His broad chest. Sindar was a man seated before a heavenly buffet, unsure how to sate his appetites.
“My love,” Ardor managed, gripping his wrist.
Sindar gently teased his flower, tracing the slick, warm opening with his fingertip, reveling in every shiver that ran through Ardor’s glorious frame. “You’re incredible,” he said.
“But I didn’t do anything! I want to do more to help you climax.
” Ardor grabbed Sindar’s hand, kissing his knuckles one by one.
Somehow, this simple act was nearly as erotic as everything that came before it.
Perhaps because of the insistence in Ardor’s kisses, or his desire to be an active participant.
“I want to learn your body. Please teach me. You can teach me anything.”
Sindar placed Ardor’s elegant hand on his cock, wrapping his fingers around the shaft just-so, showing him how to stroke. “Shall we start here?” he asked.
Ardor’s kiss, deep and sweet, was his answer.