Page 19 of Boundless
"You e-expect me to be able to keep a-a level head when you've been giving me l-looks like—likethat," he cried, sweeping his hand at the sly grin blooming on her beautiful face, "all day?" He surged to his feet, intending to walk to his closet and begin changing. "You must be..."
The words died on his lips as a familiar sinking feeling swept through his body, his vision darkening.
Daega called his name, surging upright and grabbing his shoulders. "Len? What's wrong? Are you about to faint?"
All he managed was a sound sort of like "yuh" before his eyes rolled up into his head and he knew no more.
HE RETURNED TOthe world of the waking slowly, awareness of his body and where he was tricky to find in the sludge of his mind. He was lying down on his sofa, something firm and warm propping up his head. Gentle fingers were combing through his curls, scratching at his scalp just like he liked. Soft voices drifted around him, and after a moment he placed Daega's rolling brogue and Sevren's rasping laugh.
"Yeah, the old man's been like that as long as I've known him," Sev was saying, disdain thick in his gentle voice. "Although he might have gotten a little worse after the queen passed. He was certainly harder on poor Len, after."
"Aye, poor Len, indeed," his wife murmured, a second hand rubbing the center of his chest in a circle that both soothed and excited him in a curious blend. "You should have seen him after that bastard talked to him alone this morning. I wasthisclose to ripping his entrails out through his arsehole—"
"Dae!" Len gasped, his eyelids too heavy to open yet.
"Welcome back, sweetling. My apologies for the language."
He fumbled for her hand, patting it when he finally found it. "So v-violent. My big, s-strong warrior princess." He smiled, his ears heating as he remembered how easily she'd lifted him and moved him around that morning when they'd made love. "Do you think you c-could completely lift me up and do that th-thing with your tongue—" her hand pressed against his mouth, a chuckle rumbling out of her.
"Sevren is here too, dearest. Is that talk you want him to be hearing?"
His eyes snapped open, the rest of his wits returning in a rush. Curse his empty head—he’dknownthat! "Bloody gods," he swore, darting a frightened look at his friend's amused face. "N-no one's supposed to know..."
"That you two are absolutely smitten with each other?" Sevren offered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Too late, old friend. But don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I'd even like to help, if I can. I think it's a fantastic idea. I've caught your father and Jespirr in quiet conversations a few times too many recently and you know how I feel about both of those rotten bastards."
"Sev," Len protested, his eyes darting around like he'd spot a spy ready to take such seditious language straight to his father. It was then that he realized his head was resting on Daega's thigh. He made to get up, but her hand on his chest stopped him.
"You just fainted, dove. Rest. Iinsist." She cocked an eyebrow at him, spearing him with a look that promised her displeasure if he didn't listen.
He huffed. "But w-we've got to get ready for dinner! It has to be nearly t-time."
"What's wrong with what you have on?" she asked. "I thought the getting changed thing was an excuse to sneak off together."
"His father the king is very old-fashioned,” Sevren explained. "He thinks dinner clothes must be separate from day clothes. Finer. As a sign of good breeding and respect for tradition." His voice dripped with irony. Sev sighed, getting to his feet. "I can bring your clothes over here, and we can get you dressed on the couch. Give you a chance to recover. Alright?"
Daega helped him to sit up, his head swimming just a little. Once Sev had gone he looked to the floor and frowned. "I'm n-not some helpless child," he muttered, shame flaring hot and sickly in his belly.
"No one said you were, sweet. You're recovering from an illness. Give yourself some grace."
"It's n-not an illness though. I-it's always like this. So—so—"
She clicked her tongue, leaning closer until she was whispering in his ear. "Now, now, don't sulk, dove. I see your strength, and I see your manhood, and I donotwant to hear that tone from you tonight. You want to be my good boy, don't you?" Her tongue darted out, tracing the shell of his ear and sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his cock. "You want to please me, aye? Show me how strong you can be and let this roll off your back like water off a duck."
He shivered, cursing that Sevren chose that moment to re-enter the room, clothes for Len draped over one arm. He saw them huddled close together on the sofa, Len's hands conspicuously cupping his groin in an effort to hide his arousal from his friend, and rolled his eyes.
"I'm happy for you two, I really am," Sev sighed, tossing Len's fresh clothes over the far arm of the sofa. "But please donotmake me see that."
Daega laughed, kissing Len’s cheek before sitting back and giving him room to change. "Shall I leave? Give you some privacy?"
Len flushed, shrugging. "Doesn't m-matter. You've already seen—" he snapped his mouth shut, Sevren and Daega both laughing uproariously.
"Then I'll stay and watch the show," she purred, Sevren gagging theatrically from his chair.
Once they'd calmed down, Len changed dutifully, Daega helping him stay steady. He was ashamed to realize he did, in fact, need the help; his wife was all strength and confidence, and here he was barely able to get dressed for dinner. But it helped that neither of his companions looked at him with pity or disgust, like his father and too many others over the years had. Daega even seemed to be enjoying herself, stealing small kisses of whatever body part she was closest to as she helped him and looking at him with heat when he was stripped down to his underwear.
Once he was dressed, his wife slipped away to get dressed herself, leaving Len and Sevren alone.
"Do you think any of her sisters would be interested in being courted by an elvish lowborn?" Sev asked, grinning at Len. "She isquitethe woman, my friend."
