“Will you join me for a bath?” he asked, then added, “Again?” At that, Zorvut chuckled, and wordlessly took his hand.
Chapter Six
Oncetheyhadjumpedover the first hurdle, it felt like the floodgates had opened, and Taegan found he could think of nothing else. Even just the half of Zorvut’s cock that he had been able to take in had been such an exquisite fullness that he was certain he could never be satisfied with anything smaller again. The feedback loop their bond created only multiplied his desire, and the moment one of them first started to think of it, soon they would be fucking no matter what they had been doing before.
The next day, Zorvut met with the tailor again to choose some fabrics for more shirts; Taegan was so aroused at the sight of the different silks and cottons being draped over his muscled torso that he excused himself after only a few minutes, returning to his room to touch himself desperately. The thought of Zorvut feeling his pleasure and desire yet unable to do anything about it only made him harder—it took less than ten minutes for the door to burst open, and Zorvut stormed inside, lifting him onto the bed and pulling his clothes off. He did not bother with his hands this time, but despite how roughly he handled Taegan, he was still careful not to push his cock inside further than Taegan had taken it the night before.
“Harder,” Taegan whimpered, but Zorvut ignored him, setting a rapid but shallow pace that still left him a trembling, sticky mess.
Then they had gone to Taegan’s private study, so he could make good on his promise to read to Zorvut. He could sense the orc’s gaze on him, hot and hungry, and he made it through maybe two paragraphs before they pushed aside their books and Zorvut bent him over the desk. But Zorvut wasstillmaddeningly cautious, and Taeganknewhe could take more of his cock, desperate to feel it filling him to the base. Still, with the bond amplifying their emotions and sensations, it only took a few moments before they were both coming. Then they had needed a bath, and never quite got back to the books.
Once, when they were face to face and Zorvut was moving slowly, cautiously inside him, he had leaned down as if to kiss Taegan. He had turned his face away quickly without thinking—as foolish as it seemed, somehow it felt too intimate to kiss him. Zorvut hesitated at the rejection, and when they were finished, he went silently to the bathroom to clean up, leaving Taegan alone.
Itwasfoolish, he told himself, unsure if the shame he felt was coming from him or the bond; Zorvut was his husband, after all, and if he could have the orc inside him, why couldn’t he kiss him as well? Zorvut had left their quarters quietly after that, and Taegan was not sure where he went, but did not see him again until after the evening meal. He feared Zorvut might try to sleep on the floor again after that, but luckily, he still came to bed.
Things went on this way for the first week—and when they were not fucking or wanting to fuck, they were mostly apart. It was easier to ignore his conflicting feelings, so Taegan spent most of his free time at the archery range. He was not sure where Zorvut went or what he did when they parted ways, but he tried not to think about it, tried not to let himself feel the beginnings of arousal that would inevitably drive him to hastily put away his equipment and find Zorvut waiting for him outside their quarters. That happened more often than he would have liked.
After the first week or so, though, he thought he was getting a hold on the bond. With some effort, he found he could mostly block out emotions coming from Zorvut, though he was not sure how successful his attempts at masking his own emotions from the bond might have been. Zorvut did not mention one way or the other, but the better Taegan got at regulating the bond, the less frenzied and desperate their arousal became. He was even able to give a distinct sensation oflaterwhen he felt Zorvut wanting him at an inopportune time—and a few days later, was surprised to feel that same thought oflatercoming from Zorvut, as he was daydreaming absentmindedly in the bath.
In spite of everything, he thought things were going better than either of them had expected. For that, if nothing else, he was grateful.
Over an evening meal later that week, King Ruven asked them to join him on a hunt the next day.
“Perhaps Taegan has told you that hunting season has begun,” he said to Zorvut, who nodded politely. “This is the best time of year for hunting elk. I plan to set out with a small party tomorrow morning, and would be pleased if both of you joined us.”
“Of course,” Taegan replied, feeling Zorvut’s gaze shift to him. He turned to meet the orc’s eyes. “We would both love to join, yes?”
There was a slight flash of hesitance which Taegan felt Zorvut quickly dampen, and the orc nodded. “Yes,” he agreed simply.
“Excellent,” Ruven said. “We set out at dawn.”
Zorvut had the foresight to have kept his horse, as none of the many horses they had were large enough for him to safely ride—his own horse was so large that a special stall had to be added onto the stable just for him. Taegan had only ever seen the stallion in passing, but when two stable boys led the saddled horses out to them as they gathered in the courtyard at sunrise the next morning, he watched the impressive beast trot out eagerly, his own mare following more cautiously.
“What is your horse called?” he asked as Zorvut took the horse’s reins, running a hand along his snout with a surprising fondness. The stallion snorted, tossing his head—he was a jet black but with a vivid splash of gray just above his hooves that extended up his legs, as if he had walked through a puddle of silver.
“Graksh’t,” Zorvut replied, the harsh orcish language taking Taegan by surprise—he had not heard Zorvut speak it since the day they had gone to the orc encampment the night after their wedding. “It means… well, something like ‘champion.’”
“Graksh’t,” Taegan repeated, though even as he tried to get his mouth around the words, he could tell he was not saying it correctly. He took his own horse’s reins, noting her snowy white mane had been braided just the way he liked. “My horse is named Moonlight. I’ve had her since I was a child. She was a gift from my father.”
“Graksh’t is the son of my father’s most prized mare,” Zorvut replied.
Something about the conversation felt like pulling teeth, but luckily the hunting party interrupted before he had to think of a response. King Ruven rode up to them, somehow still looking regal even in his leather hunting gear.
“Ready?” he asked, and they followed as he led the way out of the city gates.
It was a good two hour’s ride through the woods and into the grassy hills where the best game could historically be found, but the trip was always a pleasant one, especially with the sun coming up on the horizon, sending streaks of morning light across the misty hills. King Ruven and his hunting party rode a bit ahead of them; the same three elves had joined him on his hunting trips for many years. One was Ruven’s cousin and the two others a baron and baroness couple, who owned a large plot of land just outside the city walls where they would often hunt smaller game in the off seasons.
Seeing the four of them riding up ahead with the sun rising to the east filled Taegan with a strange sense of nostalgia—when he was very young, his other father would be with them, often riding alongside a small Taegan on his old pony behind the others as well, pointing out landmarks and rock formations so they would not lose their way and quizzing Taegan on the names of plants they encountered.
Zorvut glanced at him, and he realized his nostalgia and that familiar tinge of sadness at the thought of Papa had leaked through the bond to him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to explain. Instead, he pointed out one of the familiar rock formations on the horizon.
“We’ve always called this rock the crone, since it looks like a figure hunched over,” he said, feeling Zorvut’s gaze follow his finger to the shape in the distance. “I don’t know if it has an official name, but it’s what my fathers would call it every time we passed it. I always knew that when we saw the crone, we had left the borders of the capital.”
As they traveled, he pointed out more of the familiar landmarks, but they became few and far between as they went further into the forest and the trees became more dense, soon blotting out most of the morning sunlight and limiting the range of their vision. Once they were in the darkened, shaded woods, Ruven turned back to look at them.
“Quiet, now,” he said in a hushed tone, and Taegan nodded, Zorvut following suit. When he turned back around, Taegan leaned closer to Zorvut.
“This time of year, the elk are migrating from the grasslands through the forest,” he added in a whisper. “It’s more challenging to hunt them in the forest, but he likes the challenge. Depending on how it goes, we might push through to the fields or see what we can find here.” Zorvut nodded, glancing around, but did not respond.
