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“I’m coming,” I gasped right after he took me in deep yet again.
Hayk stayed where he was, humming for a moment as if acknowledging my climax, then slurping and swallowing as I spilled everything I had down his throat. It was mind-numbingly good, and I thrust with abandon as I came undone.
I was still dizzy with pleasure and already feeling sated enough to fall asleep again when Hayk pulled back with a gasp, then shifted to kneel between my spread thighs. With half-lidded eyes, I watched as he fisted himself, panting hard, spit and cum leaking from one side of his mouth. That was enough to send fire through my body and to make me wish I could come again.
I thought about turning over or lifting my legs to offer him my ass, but before I could, he growled with pleasure, tipped his head back, and spewed thick ropes of cum all over my belly and chest. Some even hit my chin, which I loved so much it nearly made me laugh. I imagined that Hayk had marked me and claimed me as his own, and when he slumped over me, smearing the mess between us and kissing me so that I could taste myself mingled with him, I felt absolutely, perfectly happy.
I wanted to lie there in that post-fucking glow with Hayk forever. We shifted to our sides, wrapping around each other, and continued to kiss as we caught out breaths. I threaded my fingers through his hair then gripped it as if holding him tightly meant I never had to let him go.
I couldn’t let him go. Hayk was the one beacon of light in my otherwise confusing and jumbled existence. I didn’t know who I was or what I could possibly do with my life next, but I knew that I needed him in it. I needed Hayk to be my heart and my air.
Whatever it took, whatever money I needed to beg from Lefric or whatever pleading I needed to do with Master Daron, I was going to get Hayk released from his contract.
That thought stayed with me after a short nap, then another trip to the washroom so we could clean up. By the time we made it downstairs and across to Vikhrov’s house, I was ready to fight or argue or do whatever needed to be done.
I did not expect to find the dining room set up for a very late breakfast, or to find all of my friends and some members of Vikhrov’s household lazing around the tables, finishing up a feast of sweets and savories.
“And then, apparently, Sanzhar Arzumanyan caved and wept like a baby when the officers brought out the charter that King Julius had sent him in the spring, along with a letter of instructions for how he should take over Good Port,” Ox was in the middle of reporting to the rapt group of my friends.
“Hayk!” Billie interrupted her, leaping up from where she was seated next to Lefric, practically wrapped around him. If I hadn’t known Lefric was very much a lover of men, I would have thought something was developing between the two of them. “Anton,” she added my name too as she rushed to us. “You’ve missed so much! Sanzhar Arzumanyan was arrested last night, and the entire Arzumanyan family is falling apart as we speak.”
I sent Hayk a wry grin, though I felt bad for taking pleasure in the downfall of a family. Not bad enough to keep me away from the delicious scents wafting up from the breakfast table, though.
“The entire family?” Hayk asked as we were drawn toward the single table that was now set up in the dining room and given seats.
Servants immediately moved in to pour coffee and give us plates to pile with food. The same ones that had treated Hayk and Billie warily the day before now seemed to hold them in some sort of awe. Which made sense, considering they had taken part in actions that had brought down one of the greatest families in Good Port.
“Their entire Arzumanyan estate has been sealed,” Jace explained, as if he himself had ordered the action. “Until everything can be worked out, no one is allowed in or out.”
“And you’ll never believe it,” Billie added with glee, “but no fewer than six of Master Rafe’s whores were at the house for a party last night. They’ve all spilled their guts about Master Rafe being a spy too.”
“No!” Hayk threw back his head and laughed.
“Vikhrov is meeting with the Council right now,” Lefric took up the story from there. “They’ll probably have some sort of emergency action to counter any damage the spies have done—which includes the rumors about me and Oly being responsible for Gregorius’s murder—in place by the end of the day, and then Vikhrov is going to join me and Olympus in meetings with Magnus and Jorgen and Hati.”
“What are you all going to meet about?” I asked Peter, since he and Neil sat across the table from me.
Peter shrugged. “Trade agreements, border issues, travel between kingdoms. Things like that, I would imagine.”
“It all seems a little anticlimactic after everything going on with the spies,” Neil added.
“Oh, I’m certain there will be a lot more drama in Good Port to keep you happy after this,” Ox said, reaching for a twisted roll from a plate in front of her. “And I am happy as fuck that I won’t have to be here for any of it.”
“You aren’t going to stay?” Sebald asked, leaning forward so he could look around Jace and ask the question. “Now that you’ve reconciled with your father?”
Ox let out a loud, ironic laugh. “I haven’t even come close to reconciling with my father. Showing my face to him and informing him I’m not dead does not make for reconciliation. Especially since he’s made it clear that he wants me to move back here and marry whomever he chooses.”
“Did you explain you like women?” Jace asked with a teasing smirk.
“Yes,” Katrina said on Ox’s behalf, laughing. “And the bastard said he could work with that, and that perhaps one of the primary families had a daughter who was similarly inclined who he could marry her off to.”
“Does Good Port allow marriages between people of the same gender?” I asked.
“No!” Billie said, eyes wide as she stared at Ox and Katrina in awe. “We don’t care who fucks with who, but marriage is for the purpose of procreation and continuing family dynasties.”
“Then why would Ivor Lobe suggest marrying Ox off to a woman?” Sebald asked.
“There is so much more to marriage than merely producing children,” Peter said, his tone dismissive, as he glanced to Neil. “It means something.”
