Rhazir stood in the temple's entrance, travel dust on his boots and shadows in his dark eyes. But it was more than sight that told me of his arrival; something deeper had recognized his nearness, had felt the weight of troubles he carried like stones in his chest.
Eight years of close companionship, I toldmyself. Eight years of learning to read his moods in the set of his shoulders, the line of his mouth. Yet this sensation felt stronger than mere familiarity, more immediate than observation could account for.
"My prince," he said when he reached me, formal address necessitated by the curious glances of nearby worshippers.
Without hesitation, I took his hand and led him away from the gathered crowd to a small alcove where statues of young lovers embraced in marble permanence. Here, shadows offered privacy while still allowing us to hear the priests' melodious prayers.
"You are troubled," I said, studying his face in the flickering candlelight.
"Not at all." His denial came too quickly, too practiced. "I merely misplaced part of my armor and could not find it at the inn."
The lie sat poorly between us, though I couldn't name how I knew it for falsehood. Something in the set of his jaw, perhaps, or the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet mine. But I had learned not to press when Rhazir erected his careful walls.
"Come," I said instead, leading him from the temple as the evening rites continued without us.
Our chambers welcomed us with warm lamplight and the subtle scent of jasmine oil. I poured wine into cups of silver and coral while Rhazirstood uncertainly by the window, still holding himself with that careful distance that had marked our interactions before everything changed.
We settled on large cushions scattered across the marble floor, the formal furniture seeming too rigid for the intimacy I craved. The wine was sweet on my tongue, flavored with honey and spices I couldn't name, and for a time we sat in comfortable silence while evening deepened beyond the windows.
But I could no longer bear the space between us, the careful courtesy that felt like armor against my soul. All day I had carried the memory of his touch, the taste of his skin, the way he'd whispered my name in the darkness. I wanted more than hands and mouths could offer - I wanted to join with him completely, to discover what lay beyond the boundaries we had already crossed.
I moved closer until our knees touched, then placed my palm against the worn leather of his jerkin. "Whatever troubles you, perhaps I can help."
His expression darkened for just a moment, pain flickering across his features like lightning behind storm clouds. Then he smiled with warmth that seemed genuine despite the shadows in his eyes.
"I fear you'll grow bored of me, Serin."
"Of you? Never."
I didn't let him reply, couldn't bear to hear whatever self-deprecating response he might offer. Instead, I claimed his lips with mine, tasting wineand worry and the sweetness that was uniquely his. The kiss deepened as I worked at the fastenings of his jerkin, and he helped me push the heavy leather from his shoulders.
My own seret whispered to the floor like captured moonlight, and then we were skin to skin, mapping each other's bodies with reverent hands. He was all lean muscle and old scars, strength tempered by surprising gentleness, and I marveled that such beauty had been hidden beneath armor for so long.
Earlier, when curiosity had finally overcome embarrassment, I had sought out young Ander among the temple's acolytes. His knowing smile and gentle instruction had prepared me for this moment, and I reached for the vial of scented oil that waited on the small table beside our wine.
"Serin," Rhazir breathed as understanding dawned in his dark eyes. "Are you certain?"
"I have never been more certain of anything," I whispered against his throat, and felt him shudder beneath my touch.
The oil was warm on my fingers, fragrant with roses and something earthier that made my head swim. I prepared myself as Ander had taught me, though Rhazir's gentle hands soon replaced my own, his touch infinitely more reverent than my fumbling attempts.
When I finally rose above him, straddling hislean hips while he lay beautiful, hard, and willing beneath me, I felt as though we stood on the threshold of something far greater than physical pleasure. This was territory beyond kingdoms and crowns, beyond duty and station, this was the joining of souls laid bare.
I sank down slowly, carefully, gasping at the sensation of being filled so completely. Rhazir's hands found my hips, steadying me and pulling me down on his rigid cock, his eyes never leaving mine as I adjusted to the intimate invasion. When I finally began to move, rocking gently at first and then with growing confidence, the world transformed around us.
Something blazed to life between us; not mere passion, though fire certainly raged in my veins, but a connection so profound it left me breathless. It was as if invisible chains had always linked us, growing stronger with each passing year until they became unbreakable. Now those chains sang with power, with recognition, with a completeness I had never imagined possible.
I saw my own wonder reflected in Rhazir's eyes, felt his amazement echo in my chest as if his heart beat within my ribs. We moved together in ancient rhythm, bodies finding perfect synchronization, and with each thrust of his hips, I felt more of myself flow into him while more of him settled into the hollow spaces of my soul. His cock filled me deeper,making moans rip free from my lips. When he lifted his bottom off the floor and rammed himself into me, a yelped, joy filling me so much that tears brimmed in my eyes.
This was what we had shared for years without naming. This connection that transcended the physical, this kinship that made us more than the sum of our separate selves. It had always been there, buried beneath duty and decorum, but now it was free to blaze between us like captured starlight.
"Rhazir," I gasped as sensation built to unbearable intensity, and his name rolling off my lips. I dug my fingers into his muscled chest and held onto him as he fucked me.
"I know," he whispered, understanding flooding his voice. "I feel it too."
The crescendo, when it came, was more than release. It was recognition, completion, the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. I felt myself shatter and reform, felt him do the same, felt us become something new and unified and utterly inseparable.
The heat of his orgasm filled my body, his cock throbbing inside of me and sending ripples of pleasure to all corners of my flesh. I felt him soaked into my very soul.
