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Theodor didn’t want to unseal their lips, not even for air, his lungs starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. Boraleashe laid chilled fingers over his jaw, his thumb pressing against his chin, making Theodor open his mouth wider. The Winter Lord blew a rush of cool air down his throat and into his chest.
Boraleashe inhaled through his nose and did it again and again until Theodor was no longer panting, until his lungs were soothed and full. It was such an unexpected sensual talent that Theodor’s hips bucked on their own, his tongue running wild. He walked them backward in search of a solid surface.
It didn’t take long before he had Boraleashe pinned against the hard trunk of a lacebark elm. They never stopped kissing while Boraleashe loosened his trousers enough to get both hands inside and wrapped around Theodor’s swollen cock.
Boraleashe entwined his fingers and pumped him with a tight fist, making his mouth go slack while stars exploded behind his eyelids.
“Oh fuck.” Theodor thrust into the unforgiving grip, already minutes away from shooting. His own lust combined with his lover’s was too goddamn much.
“I want to kiss you everywhere,” Boraleashe confessed into his mouth, his breath as cool as his wind. “Right here.”
Theodor groaned, a full-body shiver racking him when Boraleashe smeared natural lubrication down his shaft and stroked faster. “Let me kiss it.”
Theodor shook his head, his mind spinning, his lips tender, his mouth ravenous. “Fuck, Boraleashe. These are not kisses.”
“No? Is this not what you taught me, my king?” Boraleashe dragged his tongue over his, sensual and slow, breathing cool air into his lungs. Theodor exhaled a plum of cold vapor back into the air when he pulled away.
“No, my winter titan. They are not,” he whispered. “These are dangerous avalanches in my mouth.”
Boraleashe went to drop to his knees, but Theodor regretfully stopped him at the sound of loud music and raucous laughter coming from low in the valley. Boraleashe either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it. Theodor pulled him back to his full height.
“Can I not go to my knees and please my king?” Boraleashe asked, his face stern and brows dipped low.
“You can, and you will.” Theodor held the back of Boraleashe’s neck while he pulled his fists from around his cock with the other. “But we have to get back to Mirador first and find out what that noise is—”
“That noise you hear is celebration, lord.
Boraleashe
It’s a Celebration
The halls of Mirador Keep were just as loud and rambunctious as the parties in the provinces. Theodor appeared amused at Boraleashe’s house servants and court leaders dancing under the sun’s beams and singing praises to the gods, but he was exasperated. Boraleashe clenched his teeth when his own viceroy had to put down his goblet of wine and rush to his side, trying to appear poised and professional. However, it was clear they were all well in their cups, and the sun had barely risen. He could imagine what they’d be like by dusk.
It’d been years of dark days in Amárach, his people had a right to rejoice in the light. He wouldn’t be a killjoy and shut down the festivities or send them into the streets with the rest of the rowdy crowd; but he didn’t want to be entertained. Adresin righted his low-riding trousers and smoothed one palm down his wrinkled tunic, trying to stand without leaning to one side.
Theodor chuckled, his hazel eyes taking in the loud ruckus and spirits flowing freely. Boraleashe chose to ignore the foolery. After sleeping outside in the most lethal conditions known to man, all he wanted was to take another bath and get his king in bed, far underneath his covers. He didn’t know he could be so insatiable or that his cock had such amazing recovery time, but he was learning fast. All he had to do was get through his crazy palace undetected and to the stairs that led to his quarters.
“Lord. I’ll have your attendants start your bath and—”
Boraleashe raised his hand, trying to get them moving. “That won’t be necessary, Adresin. Continue to make a fool of yourself. Enjoy. I only need privacy and zero interrupt—”
“King Theodor Cavalerie! Un-fucking-acceptable,” a vulgar, grating voice called from over the second-floor landing. “Shame!”
Boraleashe didn’t appreciate another interruption, but he recognized the man chastising his betrothed. Theodor’s man and best friend, Mozraath— if he recalled correctly—rushed down the curved staircase with an entourage of mature servants trailing behind him. His mismatched face was a mask of disgust and pure joy. Boraleashe thought it interesting he could display both at the same time.
“You are filthy, and you smell like a rank minotaur. Pfft, Treasure of the Realms, my ass,” Mozraath muttered when he and Theodor were face-to-face. His thin lip curved into a disgusted sneer, but his one light eye flashed with humor. “And you stand here hand in hand with the breathtaking Titan of the North as if all is well.”
