Page 27 of His Noble Savior

“Good idea.”

With a grin, Lilian jogged the few steps to the other side of the bridge. He caught Richard’s gaze, raising his hand with the birdfood over the water.

“One,” Lilian said. “Two. Three.”

They dropped the seed simultaneously. It confused the ducks, which swam back and forth before each one settled on a direction. With only three ducks to feed each, it was easier to divide the grains fairly.

Lilian flashed Richard a smile from across the bridge. He looked genuinely happy—and had, for the first time, voluntarily put a few yards between them. Richard’s heart grew light. Lilian was healing, physically and emotionally.

More ducks came, begging for food. Richard and Lilian did their best to distribute it evenly between the birds. Overhead, the clouds were closing in. Eventually, the bag of grains ran out, and Lilian was tucking the empty sack into his pocket when the first raindrop landed on the tip of Richard’s nose.

“We should go inside before we get wet.”

Lilian’s pink eyes shone with mischief. “So what if we get wet?”

He ran toward Richard, caught him by the wrist and dragged him across the bridge into the outer courtyard. Richard blinked at the ease with which Lilian pulled him along. His preternatural strength was returning. Fae might not be as strong as orcs, but they beat humans any day.

A drizzle set in. Unperturbed, Lilian skipped further into the grass, spinning around to face Richard. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Richard didn’t know if he meant the rain, nature, or something else. He only had eyes for Lilian. Droplets clung to his tousled blond strands. His svelte form had shed any signs of hunger, and his cheeks were a healthy pink. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

The raindrops thickened. Lilian took Richard by the hand and waist and pulled him close.

“You’ve regained your strength,” Richard said.

Lilian grinned. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” He slung his arms around Richard and lifted him a couple of inches off the ground, sending Richard laughing. “Give me another week, and I’ll bridal carry you.”

“Nah,” Richard said, shaking his head as Lilian set him down.

“But I’d be able to.”

“I have no doubt.”

It was only then that it hit him how close they were. Mere inches separated their faces. The rain grew into a downpour, heavy drops pattering Richard’s skin, soaking his clothes. He didn’t care.

“Catch me,” Lilian said, giddiness spreading his lips, and he tore away.

It took Richard a second to break out of his stupor, then he raced after him. Damn, Lilian was fast. His laughter bellowed through the courtyard as Richard jumped over growing puddles only to have his shoes drenched by the wet grass. He didn’t mind; he was happy Lilian was having fun.

Richard never caught him, but eventually, Lilian slowed to a stop and faced him. The downpour had plastered his hair to his head, rain cascading down the long line of his slender neck, the water sliding under his unbuttoned shirt. The white linen was soaked and clung to Lilian like a second skin. His dusty pink nipples stood out against the wet fabric, the centers erect from the cold.

“What are you looking at?” Lilian asked.

Caught, Richard flushed, tearing his gaze off Lilian’s chest. He shouldn’t have stared. Ogling Lilian was on the list of things he mustn’t do. “I’m sorry; I—”

Lilian cut his apology short when he stepped close, seized Richard by the waist, and sealed their mouths together. The taste of rain. The softness of Lilian’s lips. The heat of his body.

It drove Richard out of his mind. His hands found Lilian’sneck, the small of his back. He pressed their bodies together and moaned.

Lilian dove inside. His hot tongue slid over Richard’s, and stars exploded before his eyes. His stomach dropped. This was surreal, had to be a dream. He was kissing Lilian—Lilian!—in the pouring rain, their clothes drenched and their bodies entwined.

Impossible to wrap his head around it. The scent of spring flowers enveloped him. Lilian’s lips were as supple as they were demanding. Richard kissed back with fervor, devouring Lilian, who tasted better than the sweetest fruit.

Did Lilian reciprocate his feelings? Richard couldn’t believe it. He got to hold Lilian and taste him, no longer hiding that his protectiveness was in part romantic.

“You feel so good,” Lilian purred, burying a hand in Richard’s curls.

Richard clutched him. Only a second before he would’ve shoved his thigh between Lilian’s legs, did he catch himself. Lilian would set the pace, not him.

---