Page 9 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

Chapter4

Desire and Indecision

The scribe rolled up the scroll and held it out. “Here you are, Your Majesty. The other copy will go to court for a formal announcement tomorrow.”

After accepting the scroll, Toren gestured toward the door. “Thank you. That is all.”

The man scampered toward the exit, but two guards and Feref remained at their places. Clearly, they had failed to read Toren’s mood. Mehl hadn’t—he’d already retreated to their bedroom. Toren barked out a terse order, and the others followed the scribe through the door.

Good. His control was near breaking.

Toren strode through the connecting door into their bedroom, only to find that perhaps Mehl hadn’t read his mood after all. He wasn’t reclining on the bed, ready to receive what Toren fought so hard not to have to give. Gods’ blood. It would take hours—possibly days—to dispel this much energy without his husband’s aid. Not even standard channeling would do in this case.

Mehl had to know the testing had ended too soon. Far too soon to purge the energy scratching at his insides, searching for an intimate form of release. So why was his husband standing by the window, still in his dressing robe?

There could only be one reason.

“You’re angry at me.”

Mehl turned, his expression hard. “You should have listened to me instead of sending her home.”

“I couldn’t complete the testing without forcing far more than she would be willing to give,” Toren snapped. “You want to be married to a stranger?”

Mehl marched over. “I didn’t say you should have completed the testing. I said you shouldn’t have sent her home. She belongs with us. I’d wondered before, but the way our magics blurred together…”

“I know. Gods, I know.” Toren shoved his trembling fingers through his hair, and a shudder rippled through him as his energy surged to match his emotions. “I had to stop, or it might not have been undone. If any one of us had attempted to solidify the link, it would have been irrevocable.”

“But to let her—”

“My control is thin.” He grabbed Mehl’s hand and pulled him close. “If you don’t wish to help me temper it, leave now.”

For a moment, he thought Mehl was going to do just that, but though his nostrils flared, he shook his head. “No argument would have me abandon you.”

“I need rough.”

“Then take it.”

With a low growl, Toren walked Mehl back toward the bed. He didn’t waste time on gentle caresses or heated kisses, but Mehl wouldn’t expect him to. Instead, Toren ripped his husband’s dressing robe off and tossed the shreds away. Then he gripped Mehl’s cock and gave it one long stroke.

“Up on your knees.”

Without a word of argument, Mehl climbed onto the bed, the lantern light gliding across the defined muscles of his shoulders and down to his perfect ass. There he waited, and that show of trust alone had Toren’s desire rising almost painfully. Mehl was a powerful warrior, feared for centuries. He’d killed to protect Toren, yet he yielded that power now. But not out of subjugation. It was love.

Some of the tempest roaring through Toren eased, enough that he took extra time preparing his husband with the oil on their bedside table. Teasingly, he inserted one oiled finger. Then two. Mehl’s back bowed, and he bit out a curse.

Toren smacked Mehl’s ass with his free hand, just enough to redden the skin and startle another curse out of his love. “Watch your mouth in front of your king.”

“I could…do other…things…with it,” Mehl panted.

“Later.”

After rubbing his cock with oil, Toren positioned himself behind Mehl and slid home. They both groaned at the pleasure, but Toren could only savor their connection for a heartbeat before his control finally snapped. With one hand, he gripped Mehl’s hip, and the other tangled in Mehl’s long, dark hair.

Then he began to move.

His hold on his magic disappeared, a fallen wall allowing everything through. Toren pumped almost mindlessly against Mehl as their energy merged, but it wasn’t enough. They could never get close enough in body to match power and soul, though he tried.

Mehl’s desperate cries intensified with each thrust, but he didn’t try to take control. Perfect. Toren tugged at his hair until their eyes met over Mehl’s shoulder. “You are mine.”

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