The elves in the crowd all gave him polite smiles and nods, but another shout and cheer rose up from the orcs, and Zorvut replied gruffly in their own tongue. His family members laughed, then waved them away, seeming satisfied with whatever Zorvut had said. Taegan moved toward the castle, and Zorvut followed.
They passed a handful of servants in the halls, who each stopped and bowed politely as they walked by—Taegan barely noticed them, preoccupied with his own thoughts. Though he had escaped the crowd, being alone with his new husband was its own ordeal he would have to face when they arrived in his bedroom.Theirbedroom.
He paused when they approached the stairs that led up to his bedchamber. The spiral staircase was rather narrow, and he looked back over at Zorvut. It would be a tight squeeze.
“I’ll fit,” Zorvut offered abruptly, sensing his thoughts.
“There’s a different staircase at the other end of the hallway that I can show you tomorrow,” Taegan said. Zorvut seemed confused, but did not press any further, instead following Taegan up the stairs with his head carefully lowered.
Aerik was sitting, waiting, at the door to his room, his usual post. Zorvut gave a slight start when he noticed the elf, but Taegan waved him away quickly.
“Leave us,” he said. “Do not disturb us until tomorrow morning.”
“Of course, my prince,” the servant replied, bowing his head gracefully, and brushed past them descend the stairs. Taegan opened the door, and Zorvut ducked to step inside.
His rooms had been tidied, of course, and the servants had moved many of his personal belongings to his own private study in anticipation of their newly shared quarters. It was warm enough now, in the height of springtime, that the fireplace was not in use, but a handful of candles had been lit and placed throughout the room, atop the dressers and each bedside table. The massive bed was new as well, easily triple the size of Taegan’s previous bed, taking up a significant portion of the chamber. Even glancing at it made Taegan feel suddenly embarrassed, and he could sense the same emotion coming from Zorvut, too.
The door closed behind them, and Taegan let out a long sigh, steeling himself. Zorvut stood awkwardly in the entryway, obviously uncertain about fully entering the room. He seemed to understand Taegan’s trepidation, though, as he offered quietly, “We don’t have to—”
“Will you help me take this off?” Taegan interrupted, gesturing at his cape, but still not looking back at Zorvut. It was his duty, he repeated to himself. “It’s... difficult to unpin on my own.”
Zorvut paused, seemingly taken aback, then stepped closer to Taegan. He placed his hands on the elf’s shoulders, feeling along the cape for the pin before carefully removing it. The cape fell around Taegan’s feet, and Zorvut gingerly placed the gleaming silver pin in Taegan’s hands, which he set onto a bedside table.
Finally turning to face the orc, Taegan started to unbutton his shirt. Their eyes met for only a moment, then Zorvut’s gaze fell to Taegan’s fingers deftly exposing more of his chest as the shirt loosened. To his surprise, desire zapped through their bond—hesitant, but unmistakable. His hands fumbled, and Zorvut reached out to clasp them.
“Let me,” he said, and he finished unbuttoning the shirt. Taegan could feel the heat searing through his face, something like embarrassment or shame—Zorvut paused, looking askance at him, and despite himself Taegan gave a quick nod, and the orc pulled his shirt off entirely. His large, rough hands brushed against him as he did, leaving a trail of warmth where they passed. Cutting through his uncertainty, Taegan could feel the familiar ache of arousal between his legs.
Zorvut could surely sense both of his conflicting feelings, and after a moment of hesitation, he gently pulled Taegan’s hands to his own torso. The orc’s skin was rougher than his own, but the hard ripple of muscle underneath was unlike anything Taegan had ever felt before, and he ran his hands up from Zorvut’s abs to his chest, letting them rest near his collarbone. He could not tell if the pleasure he felt was his own or Zorvut’s.
“I did not know about this part,” Zorvut said, and when Taegan looked up at his face, he could see the orc’s eyes were squeezed shut. “I... I am sorry. I did not want to be untoward. This makes it more difficult than I expected.”
“You cannot be untoward to me,” Taegan retorted. “I am your husband.” The declaration sent another bolt of desire through him, through their bond—what had started as a tentative interest was quickly growing irresistible in the feedback loop between them. Spurned into boldness, Taegan let his hands trail along Zorvut’s chest once more, this time drawing lower to his waist. He could feel Zorvut hesitate again, but before he could stop him, Taegan untied his breeches and pulled them down.
Taegan had been with other men, of course, some of them quite a bit bigger than himself. And part of him had known that although Zorvut was smaller than the other orcs in his family, he was still much, much larger than Taegan, and that would certainly apply to every part of him. He knew that, but still he was taken aback at the massive cock freed from Zorvut’s tight leather breeches. He could only bring himself to look for a brief moment before glancing away, the surprise quickly morphing to fear as he considered the orc’s member seemed easily the size of his own forearm. Instinctively, he pushed against Zorvut’s abs, though he did not succeed in moving the orc at all and instead took a quick step away.
Immediately, the desire he had felt through the bond turned cold, and embarrassment flooded through the spot in the back of his head where it had settled. Taegan squeezed his eyes shut in his own shame, and he could hear Zorvut pulling his breeches back up.
“I—” he started, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat. “I apologize.”
“No, don’t,” Zorvut said, his tone equally rough. “I understand. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Though the words were meant to assuage him, they only made Taegan more frustrated.
“We could try something else?” he offered, but his tone was unconvincing even to himself, and Zorvut’s gaze remained firmly on the ground.
“Let’s not rush anything,” he said brusquely, and he reached down to pick up Taegan’s shirt, offering it to him. Taegan stared at him for a long moment, but Zorvut did not meet his gaze, so he snatched the shirt and walked away, stepping into the small dressing-room nestled between the main chamber and the bathroom.
Silently, he unbraided the crown from his hair and removed his clothing, though his trembling fingers made it difficult. He could not tell if the hot shame burning through his face was his or the orc’s. His sharp, rapid breathing broke the quiet of the dressing-room, and it took him a long moment to slow his breaths enough that his pounding heart settled into a less-frantic rhythm. For a moment, he considered changing into a sleeping robe, but instead stepped back out naked.
But during the time he was in the dressing-room, Zorvut must have gone to the bathroom to wash; he had cleaned off the war paint from his body, pulled a blanket and some pillows from the bed, and was now laying on the floor. Taegan stood in the entryway, willing the orc to look at him now that he was unclothed, to feel desire for him again, but Zorvut was resolutely facing the wall and remained motionless.
“We don’t need to rush,” Zorvut repeated in a slow mumble, sensing his presence or perhaps his frustration, and Taegan sighed, giving up and blowing out the candles on his side of the room before getting into bed and wrapping himself up one of the many blankets that had been laid out for them. After a moment, he heard Zorvut sit up and extinguish the candles next to him as well.
“Good night,” Taegan said into the darkness. He could hear Zorvut shift on the floor—though he could not see, he imagined the orc had finally turned to face him.
“Good night,” came the soft reply. Taegan was sure sleep would not come easily, but he squeezed his eyes shut anyway.
Chapter Three
