Page 52 of His King Enslaved

Lady Ambani would always be Sindar’s oldest friend, and she was loyal to him above all others, but Ardor had grown fond of her. Now that his position in the household was secure, he allowed himself to drop his guard and accept her friendship at face value.

They walked down the long hall, Leya on his right and Ambani on his left. Jain would join them soon. He had a support network. He could weather this.

“I should warn you,” Ambani said. “He is extremely eager to see you. Forgive him if he acts like a fool.”

Ardor didn’t know how to feel. By all accounts, Sindar’s attraction had not waned one bit, but he couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. It was only a matter of time before it all fell apart. Happiness always precipitated disaster.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I’m nervous,” he admitted. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Tradition dictated that the first breeding ceremony of the season be in full view of the court. Everyone would see the change in Sindar’s attraction. There would be talk, but it couldn't be helped. Sindar would do his best and try to preserve Ardor’s feelings. They’d get through this.

Outside the court, Lord Patel was waiting patiently, his hands folded behind his back. When the little man saw their arrival, he hurried to greet them. “Your Eminence, you look well,” he said. “Good, good.”

Ardor could not know Sindar’s paternity for certain, but he had an idea. Lord Patel had been most solicitous during his pregnancy and indulged Mindeh’s mischief in a familial way. It seemed to Ardor that his daughter’s mischievous streak was hereditary, and she certainly hadn’t gotten that quality from him or Sindar.

Lord Patel gazed upward with that look of his. A look that seemed entirely too knowing. As the old king’s most trusted adviser, he knew more about Flowers than most. “Your Eminence, I assure you, everything will be fine.”

“Is that your assurance to make, Lord Patel?” Ardor asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“I deal with his nonsense every day,” Patel said. “Trust me. It will be fine.”

The crowd hushed when Ardor entered the court. Jain smiled encouragingly as he approached, and she reached to take his outer robe. “You have this, Beloved,” she murmured, taking the robes and stepping aside.

These reassurances strengthened Ardor as he slipped between the cool sheets. He leaned back, his hair splaying across the pillows. He waited, his stomach a jumble of nerves despite his best efforts to stay calm. Fortunately, he did not wait long. Within minutes his consort walked stiffly down the row. Sindar kept his eyes on the ground as he approached, as if unable to meet Ardor’s gaze.

Poor Sindar. It was exactly as Ardor had feared. His consort couldn’t unsee what lay beneath those sheets. Hopefully the sheet helped, at least a little. Sindar’s expression was fixed in concentration. He was probably trying to work up an erection to help preserve Ardor’s reputation.

Ardor willed calm. It would be over soon. They just had to get through this.

Finally, Sindar met his eyes. Sindar sucked in a breath and stumbled to his knees in front of the bed. He gripped the sheets, shutting his eyes as he whispered, “Sweet angels, fuck.” A gasp went through the crowd.

Ardor fought to keep his expression neutral. It wasn’t Sindar’s fault. It was no one’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” Sindar managed, his face flushed as he fumbled to disrobe. “I’m sorry, forgive me… Two years is a very long time, and you are—sweet Goddess, you are so fucking lovely I want to die.”

A ripple of surprised laughter wafted through the crowd. Ardor frowned despite himself, perplexed, but in a moment his question was answered.

Sindar rose to kneel on the bed, his achingly hard cock slick with pearly cum. At the mere sight of his waiting Flower, the king of Kysan had prematurely ejaculated at the foot of the breeding bed.

Heat rose on Ardor’s face at his consort’s massive erection. “Oh Goddess,” he said before he could stop himself, and the crowd laughed again. Warmth flooded him as Sindar crawled to the bed, lowering his face to kiss Ardor’s exposed foot.

That press of lips set Ardor on fire. Something was happening beneath the sheets. His Flower pulsed, responding. Hungry. Wanting. Eager for its consort.

Sindar tugged the sheet aside enough to expose Ardor’s leg and kissed his shin, then his knee. His thick, eager cock dragged across the sheets as he made his way closer. Sindar gave himself a single, slow stroke, gathering up the cum that had spilled down his shaft. The slow slide of his hand made Ardor’s belly tighten. “May I?” he whispered, his breath warm on Ardor’s skin. “Touch you... Please? May I help?”

Sindar’s voice was breathy, and deliciously close to begging.

Ardor’s vision briefly swam. Sindar’s nose grazed the sheet covering his hip as he kept crawling, up, up… Humans didn’t emit pheromones, but whatever Sindar was wearing smelled positively heavenly. Ardor’s flower ached. His cock was stiffening and warm against his thigh. He caught Sindar’s wrist and guided his hand underneath the sheets.

Sindar’s breath caught, his free hand tightening in the cloth, as Ardor brought his cum-smeared fingers to his entrance. His flower remembered its mate. It yawned open as much as it was able, the single petal folding back, the narrow channel gently heaving.

Sindar slid his finger inside, and the flower promptly clenched, pleasure surging up Ardor’s spine. He nearly cursed. If they hadn’t been surrounded by people on a breeding bed in view of everyone, he surely would have pulled Sindar atop him. As it was, he shivered, biting back a moan as his flower hungrily suckled the king’s offering.

“Sweet angels,” Sindar murmured, pressing his forehead to Ardor’s as his finger sank deep in wet, welcoming heat. He slowly moved his finger in and out, and Ardor’s breath hissed between his teeth. For a moment, he thought to grab Sindar’s wrist and stop him, but—why?

Sindar had been undone, and in front of everyone. Why shouldn’t he allow himself to do the same? It was politically advantageous, but more importantly, he wanted to come undone. For the first time, Ardor ached to feel pleasure in the breeding bed.