Sparrow rushed through the room with the quick
birdlike movements that earned him his nickname. They'd
used it so long that Naron couldn't remember the man's real
name if asked.
"I'd like you to bring me one servant from each
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consort contestant. Bring me their manservant."
"Who do you want from the duke's pack?" Sparrow
smirked. It was a source of amusement to the page that Tor
had so many men.
"Bring the older gentleman. I think his name starts
with a P."
"Pietro. Yes, that's a good choice," the page said
then blushed when he realized he was confirming Naron's
pick. "I-I'll just go get them one at a time."
When the page left, Naron went back to his
paperwork to wait until the first servant entered. It was a
common fact; to know the master you ask his people.
Two hours later he learned that Gallywyn was a
sweet if scatterbrained master, Mell was a hard but
relatively fair man, and that Torrance could do no wrong
even if he rolled Pietro in oil and set the man on fire.
His exact words.
Naron sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was time for
bed. He wondered how Tor spent his night and if he had
any company. There weren't any rules about having sex
while in the contest, but he hoped Tor wasn't seeking relief
with any of his people.
Naron changed into his sleep clothes. He always
slept in comfortable pajamas because he never knew when
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an emergency was going to pull him out of bed.
* * * *
Naron was having the strangest dream. Tor was
calling for him. He couldn't see the man because of the fog,
but he could hear his voice.
"Come to me, my love," Tor called to him, which
was strange since he didn't even know if the man felt more
than a mild attraction. Naron certainly wouldn't expect to
be Tor's lover until they got to know one another better.
Still, Naron was drawn to the sound of Tor's voice
and the longing held in those sensuous tones. He wanted to
be the man's lover, badly.
In his dream he searched for Tor blindly in the fog.
Was this how Tor felt in his daily life, unable to see and
uncertain of his surroundings? Sympathy for the beautiful
man filled him.
As he walked, he thought he heard voices, but the
sounds were faint and far away. He ignored them, knowing
that he would soon reach Tor. He carefully walked through
a doorway and up to a bed. Tor was asleep, making Naron
wonder who had called him. Exhaustion dragged him
down. Yearning for rest and comfort, he slid into Tor's bed,
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and resting his head on the man's bare chest, wrapped his
arm around Tor.
* * * *
Tor was having the most wonderful dream of lying
in Larien's arms again. His lover's mouth brushed his in a
tender kiss, softer than any he remembered.
Memories of his lover's death started him
struggling.
He almost panicked. There was no way his guards
would let anyone harm him during the night. It was one of
the reasons he had round-the-clock guards. He mentally
reached out to his dragon.
"Baroy."
"Yes."
The dragon's immediate response made Tor
suspicious that the creature had been expecting his call.
"What did you do?"
"You have been unhappy. I got you what you
wanted."
Tor would've argued, but at that moment, the body
lying on his shifted. A hard body wrapped in silky fabric
slid across his naked chest, scattering his thoughts to the
stratosphere. Damn Baroy. He must've transported the king
to Tor's bedroom.
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"My beautiful man." The whisper in his ear made
him harder than a Trillion diamond. A soft kiss on his
cheek made him groan.
He wasn't sure Naron knew where he was or what
he was doing. Baroy had the ability to cloud a man's mind.
Tor had only experienced the dragon's effect a few times
when it had been used on his enemies. That he did it now
on the king was curious, but with Naron pressed against
him, Tor couldn't get his brain to function enough to stop
the other man.
Naron's mouth slid down Tor's body, licking and
biting his way down to Tor's morning erection. With quick
efficient motions, he removed Tor's pants. Tor heard them
fall to the floor but gave them no mind as he felt Naron's
mouth where those hot hands were touching.
"Show him to me!"
Tor rarely insisted on his vision because it split the
bond to focus his vision on his surroundings instead of
Baroy's, but there was no way he was going to miss the
sight of Naron's mouth around his cock.
Jolts of electricity shot up his spine. Tor looked
down to see Naron up close for the first time; black hair, as
dark as space, fell around his face in silky layers, blocking
Tor's ability to see the man's face. Unable to help himself,
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Tor sank his fingers into the midnight silk of his hair and
lifted it to see. Damn, his daughter was right! Naron was
handsome.
The man's skilled mouth soon rushed Tor to his
release. He tapped the king's shoulder to warn him. The
man growled and gripped Tor's hips tighter. He wasn't
going to let go of his prize.
Tor let out a cry as Naron swallowed his seed. He
floated, his body and mind so relaxed that he barely
understood Naron's words.
"Mine," he thought he heard Naron say as a piercing
pain ripped through his left shoulder.
The bastard had bit him. His entire shoulder burned
from the bite.
"Don't move. He's marking you."
Baroy's calm
voice smothered his panic. He trusted the dragon to protect
him if the other man was truly harming him.
It still hurt.
* * * *
The fog cleared from Naron's head as he made his
mark on the man he'd claimed for his own. Slowly his
fangs retracted, and he absently licked the point of entry.
How the hell had he ended up in Tor's bed? Not that
he would change his situation, but he was curious.
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Tor's voice cut through the remaining fog. "It's all
right. Baroy brought you here." He stroked Naron's head,
sending tendrils of warmth down his spine.
"Your Grace." Pietro charged into the room with a
tray containing a cup and a small carafe of coffee, along
with a plateful of pastries. Taking in the pair on the bed, the
man gave a start. "Oh. I'd better get another cup."
The man's nonchalance about finding someone in
Tor's bed angered Naron, but he waited until the servant
left before he addressed Tor. "There will only be me in
your bed from now on," he growled. He felt insanely
possessive about the golden-haired man lying beside him.
He wanted this man to know there would be no others.
Ever.
"What if I don't want to be your consort?" There
was a hint of true anger in the other man's question. Naron
knew it was best to proceed with caution. This was a grown
man who was powerful in his own right, but even as he
gave himself good advice, he didn't follow it.
"Then you shouldn't have entered the contest."
Tor sat up, a scowl crossing his face. "Just because
you've claimed me doesn't mean I have to stay. Besides,
Jory wasn't claimed until the mark showed up on his back.
Doesn't your god have to approve your mate?"
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Naron growled. "That's for northern dragons. We do
things differently in the south. Once we find our mate, we
claim them. Once claimed, they're ours. You are mine. Deal
with it. Traditionally you will have a dragon tattooed across
your side so if another person, human or dragon, sees you
they will know you belong to a dragonkin. You will be
official when I formally claim you at court."
"What about the other contestants?"
Pietro returned, breaking up their conversation with
his presence. He placed the tray on the side table before
turning to the two men.
"Anything else I can get for you, Your Grace?"
"Get this man out of my bed," Tor said.
Pietro gave Naron a smile. "I hear the two of you
are mates now. Congratulations."
"How do you know that?" Really, they hadn't even
left the bed, and the story was already spreading.
"After so many years with the duke, Baroy
sometimes speaks to those of us who are closest to him.
Unfortunately he didn't tell me before I brought the first
tray in, otherwise I would have brought the proper
amount."
Naron could tell the other man didn't like being
wrong in his service.
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"That's all right, Pietro, he's not staying." Tor said,
shifting away from Naron. Naron reached out and pulled
him close again.
"I wouldn't want you falling out of bed," he
murmured, tucking Tor into his embrace. He ignored the
brief struggle as the duke tried to escape. Tor sighed and
leaned against him, resting his head on Naron's shoulder.
"I have never fallen out of bed."
Pietro chuckled as he poured the first cup of coffee.
"That is true. The duke is extremely graceful, but there was
that one time you spilled coffee on the ambassador of
Rielan."
"He was groping me," Tor protested. "Waste of a
good cup of coffee, and I paid for that. I still get teased for
my clumsiness."
"I noticed that didn't stop you from drinking it,"
Pietro said, handing the cup to Tor. The entire procedure
was done so smoothly it didn't look awkward. Naron felt a
new appreciation for the duke's staff. They thought nothing
of serving a man who needed a little extra service, but then
from what he'd learned, most of them had never served
anyone else.
"Some things I'm not willing to give up."
"We'll have some imported for you," Naron
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promised. The desire to provide for his mate rode him hard.
"That's not a problem," Pietro said, buttering a
croissant. He handed it to Naron with a wink. "The duke
has his own connections. In fact, his coffee man should be
here this afternoon."
"Excellent," Tor said, flashing the first smile Naron
had seen since Tor was informed he was Naron's mate.
He tore off a piece of pastry and held it up to Tor's
mouth. Those luscious lips took the food from his fingers
and licked the tips, sending a shaft of heat throughout
Naron's body.
"I'll leave you two to your breakfast and tell the
others not to interrupt you unless there's an emergency."
"You do that," Naron purred right before he gently
brushed his lips against Tor's. The man tasted like coffee
and flaky pastry, making Naron imagine how wonderful it
would be to have this every day of the rest of his life.
Although the kingdom was profitable, Naron didn't have a
servant come and wait on him hand and foot. Not only did
Tor have an overabundance of people to bring him
everything, but his clothing and manner indicated a sense
of elegance that only came from extreme wealth.
Naron could like sharing breakfast in bed every
morning with this man. Naron took Tor's coffee from his
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hand.
Tor gave a soft sound of protest, but Naron covered
it with his mouth.
"Shh. I'll give it back, but first I want to enjoy you."
The duke groaned when Naron rubbed his hands up
and down Tor's bare chest. He needed to feel his mate
against his skin more than he'd ever needed anything
before. Again, Naron felt the presence of his dragon
moving inside him. Ruthlessly, he pushed it back like the
advisor he'd talked to instructed him. Apparently Naron had
always had a dragon; he'd just needed a mate to awaken it.
Sighs came from both men when their chests made
contact.
"You are so warm," Tor said.
"It's the dragon blood."
He pulled open the side table and frantically
searched for the bottle of oil provided in each guest room.
"Yes!" he exclaimed when his hand closed over it.
"Find what you're looking for?" Tor's voice was
teasing as he stroked Naron's face.
"Yes." Naron kissed Tor.
He carefully prepared his lover by slowly pressing
in one oiled finger after another. When he was satisfied Tor
was stretched enough, he pushed his cock inside with slow
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