Page 15 of Betrothed

His purple eye was fixed on the mess between her legs, and Fawn steeled herself before spreading them open.

Zax growled, stroking himself faster. His knuckles bumped into each other, but he didn’t stop. His cocks were getting so slick, pre-come making them shine like they were wet with spit.

Fawn swallowed against another rush of saliva. Then, in a grand moment of inspiration—and also a sense of awkwardness for not doing anything—she pulled her dress down over her breasts and palmed them tentatively.

Zax’s hips bucked. His cocks swelled in tandem. He faltered, letting go of his lower cock to grip his higher one.

Then he shot ropes of come over Fawn’s bare legs. Hot and thick, so copious that it ran down her legs and splattered onto the nest below. Fawn stayed still, her eyes fixed on that first cock as the come slowed to a dribble before finally stopping.

But Zax did not sag with relief. His hands, which had slowed on his first cock as he came, reached down to his second cock and began to stroke himself with renewed vigor.

“Come on,” Fawn said, shocked at how breathy her voice had become without her noticing. “Give it to me. Show your wife how much you want her.”

Zax’s growl turned into a low, helpless howl. His second cock jerked much like the first, and new lines of come splattered over Fawn’s bare legs.

Fawn watched, her clit throbbing. Part of her was horrified that she was so aroused by this. Another part was relieved—she wouldn’t suffer in his care as much as she thought. And he could smell her arousal, which would make him feel like he was doing a good job. She wanted him to think he was being a good husband.

Which, if she thought about it…

Fawn cut that thought off in its tracks. It didn’t matter how good a husband he was. He was a monster. End of story.

Zax slumped over her, his forehead pressed into the nest above her. His heaving chest glistened tantalizingly above her face, and Fawn had to fight down the strange urge to lick it.

Zax stayed there for a while, breathing heavily. The come on Fawn’s legs started to cool and become unbearably sticky.

“Zax,” Fawn said, her voice low in case he didn’t like to be disturbed afterward. “Is there something I can clean myself with?”

“I will—” Zax sat up, bracing his arms against the nest. “I will make you a bath. I have towels. And new fur for the nest.”

He was shaking, which was… endearing. No, Fawn told herself, not endearing. It was promising. It meant he was weak after he climaxed. She could use that.

But also, Fawn considered as he eased himself to his feet and reached for his loincloth, it was actually quite sweet. Or it would have been, if he were someone else. Something else.

“A bath,” Fawn repeated, looking over at the clawfoot tub in the corner of the treehouse. “Are you sure? I can just use a towel.”

Zax shook his head. He looked dazed, missing the knot twice before he properly tied his loincloth.

“No,” he said. “Mortals bathe at least once a day, my brothers said. They like to be clean.”

With that, he leapt out of the window.

Sometime later, Fawn dipped her hand into a shockingly warm bath.

The bathtub was chipped, and there were crumbs of dirt at the bottom of the water. But this would still be the nicest wash she’d had in months. Traveling with the Circle meant a lot of washing in the river. And even back home, she usually couldn’t be bothered heating water for a bath, preferring to rub herself down with a wet cloth.

Zax stood behind her, his tail swishing anxiously. “Is it good? Not too hot?”

“It’s perfect,” Fawn said. She didn’t have to fake her smile as she turned to him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to go through so much effort.”

“It was not so much,” Zax said. Which, in her opinion, was a lie. She had watched in disbelief as he set up another campfire, lugged pots of water from the river, and carried them back up to empty them into the tub.

Her tub. Until her foot healed enough for her to escape, anyhow.

“I also have soap,” Zax announced. He went over to a drawer and pulled out a bar of hard, waxy yellow soap that she recognized from an inn a few towns over. “I can learn to make that, too.”

“You don’t need to,” Fawn assured him. She took the soap, then waited.

Zax seemed to be waiting, too. His tail kept swishing expectantly.