“Yeah, well—“ Dorian reached inside for his belt and wrapped it around his waist. “—That’s what happens after a thorough fucking,” he snapped. “Perhaps you should try it.”
“It’s a thought,” Corbin said, and Dorian accidentally pinched himself with the buckle he was so surprised by the comment.
He couldn’t find words. He couldn’t move. He was stammering for the first time in his life—
And Corbin knew it.
The corner of the Belwark’s lips flinched up a fraction, a quiet huff of laughter leaving him, and he turned on his heel.
Dorian blinked back into reality and scrambled to catch up.
“That was a laugh,” Dorian managed as he caught his Second’s stride.
“It wasn’t,” Corbin said sternly, the amusement clearly gone from his features.
But inwardly, Dorian was thrilled.
He couldn’t stop his own smile from flickering on his lips or his eyes from sliding sideways at his Second as they walked the hall, and he rolled up his sleeves. He even went as far as trying to hide his smile as he pretended to look out the passing windows.
“Do you have any duties for me today?” Corbin asked after a few turns.
Besides sucking my cock, Dorian resisted replying. “Ah… no,” he decided on instead. “Rhaif has me testing foods later. Starving now, though,” he added.
“Your sister and the Venari were heading to the kitchens when I passed them this morning,” Corbin said.
“Which sister and which Venari?” Dorian asked.
“Nyssa and Balandria,” Corbin replied.
Dorian nodded. “Will you join us for breakfast?”
“If you do not need me, I will take my day in the stadium with Hilexi,” Corbin said. “She’s requested me.”
“Requested me…” Dorian shook his head at the formality of Corbin’s reply. “Don’t you know how to speak casually?” he asked, running his hands through his hair. “Perhaps that is another thing you should try.”
“Is that before or after the proper fucking?” Corbin came back.
Dorian almost laughed, deliriously pleased that Corbin was teasing him. So pleased that he stopped walking and turned to his Second, his eyes squinting.
“Before,” he replied, unable to stop himself. “It’d get you into my bed faster.”
“I suppose I’ll study quickly then.”
Had Dorian been walking, he’d have tripped over his own feet. But all he could do was gawk at Corbin for the third time that morning.
“Am I dying?” Dorian finally found his voice to ask. “Or have you finally decided you don’t hate me?”
Once again, Corbin’s lips lifted a fraction. The Belwark slapped Dorian’s cheek twice and then turned on his heel.
“Have a good day, Prince,” Corbin called back.
Dorian could still feel where Corbin had slapped him when he arrived in the kitchens a few staircases later. He’d taken the servants’ tunnels in a daze, replaying every look and word his Second had given him.
And before he realized it, he was pushing on the kitchen door, hand still on his cheek.
“Oh, look who decided to join us,” Nyssa said, her words muffled behind a yawn.
“About time, Prince,” Bala said. “I was about to ask Nys if we needed to go throw water on you.”
