I looked down, and bit my lip, my hips starting to flex up of their own accord. Tobin closed his fingers and pushed down at the same time, driving us together into his hand, through the gloriously slick caress of the oil. It was so good, so damned good. Tight and hot and snugly arousing. His sex and mine, sliding and kissing within the confines of his fingers. This was one of my favorite things, made even better by the slippery glide of the oil.
And then he shifted up on his knees, let his own cock go free, and drew mine down, erect and upright underneath him. For a moment he paused, pressing my tip against himself, right there. “May I, Lyon, please let me?” His voice was hoarse and breathless.
I said, “Yes,” and watched as he sank slowly down upon me.
This
was a different and altogether overwhelming tightness. No ridges and bumps of fingers, no uneven hard shaft against mine, just unbelievably hot, gripping, satiny pressure everywhere around me. Tobin sat slowly but steadily, impaling himself deeper and deeper with my cock. His eyes were bright and eager, his own cock hard and bobbing and unafraid.
He murmured over and over, “Oh, yes. Gods, yes. So good. So damned good. I want this, Lyon. I want you in me so, so much.” It was reassurance, and yet, hearing the heartfelt yearning of it, I couldn’t doubt that it was also the truth. He arched his back, and spared one hand to stroke down his own abdomen and out over his hard erection. He was so incredibly stunning, like that, like sex and want and pleasure carved in living stone. He pushed himself lower, and I groaned at the feel of it. Groaned again at the sight of the smile spreading on his face. His look of need and relief and
joy
went deep into me, deeper than I was in him, and healed something there. Filled a space that had always been empty.
Then I had no place for deep thoughts, because Tobin began to move on top of me. Little circles first, and tiny slides up and down. His insides clung to me, despite the oil, in the most intimate caress. My toes did curl, and I think my eyes crossed. “Oh, Tobin, it feels so good.”
“Feels amazing.” His smile widened and became more wicked. “I’m going to drive us both blind.” He rose higher and dropped fast, drawing a harsh grunt from both of us. “Touch me, my cock. Feel how much I like this. Feel what you do to me.” He pulled my hand to his hard shaft. “Please.”
I took him in my grip. It was probably the clumsiest hand job I’d ever given anyone, nothing more than a clench of trembling fingers against the thrust of Tobin’s hips. He rode my cock vigorously, now up and down, now around in erotic motion. We both gasped and shook with the push and slide of my flesh in his. He braced his hands on my ribcage and used the leverage to shove me so deep inside himself that I groaned and shook with it. “Gods, Lyon, I’m close,” he grated through clenched teeth.
All I had breath for was, “Yes.”
He leaned forward. “Sit up. Sit up more.”
I did so, and he wrapped his arms around me. I slipped out of him part way, but bracing my knees stopped the slide, and our bodies pressed together, his sex trapped against my stomach, his hands on my back, his mouth locked to mine. His movements were slower like this, more constrained, but oh so sweet against me. We kissed and arched and rocked and drove together, with Tobin seated deep on my lap, holding me in his hot core. We loved one another, and came. And came.
We sat like that for a long time after, wrapped together, sharing breath. Finally Tobin wiggled and I slid out of him with a groan. He said, “Lie with me now,” and pulled us down on the bed together.
Gradually I became aware of the world again. The air moved cool over my bare skin. In the courtyard outside, someone shouted and a set of wheels rumbled over the cobbles. The sun gilded our bedroom wall at an angle that suggested the dinner bell was approaching. The mellow light brought out the flecks in the grey granite, and the little ridges and hollows of the rough stone.
Tobin sighed contentedly against me. I said, “Fourth bell can’t be far off. When is the king’s court?”
“Not till Fifth. I bespoke a supper for us up here. We’ll go to court afterward.”
“Foresighted of you.” I stretched in luxurious sloth. “I’m not sure I can get up yet.”
“Me either. In fact, I may be walking crooked in front of court and king.”
A shadow of anxiety passed over me. “Did I hurt you?’
“Gods, no. Ploughed me good though. Exactly what I was craving.”
“Really?” I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around Tobin wanting that from me. “Have you ever, um, done that before?”
“Done which? Been the bottom from on top?”
“Yes. I still don’t know what’s possible. You say you like that, but I have a hard time picturing you…”
There was a little smile in his voice as he asked, “Playing mare to another stallion?”
I smacked what I could reach of him, with the wrong hand, and said, “Ouch.”
He caught my hand. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“You said, no mares, no stallions.”
“That’s right, none of that crap. It was just a joke. And of course I’ve been on the bottom before, plenty of ways. Did you think I was lying about liking it? Face up, face down, straddling a man, bent over a table. Or a boulder, for that matter. I like it all. More than being the top, actually, although I enjoy doing both.”
“Oh.” He really hadn’t bent himself out of shape just for me, then, choosing that role because I couldn’t. I was torn between relief, and an ignoble desire to cut the cock off every man who’d had him before me.
I thought I’d controlled my reaction, but he reached for me, turned my face his way and kissed me. “In all those times, it never felt quite like that before.” He grinned. “Spoiled me for anyone else, you have. You’ll have to stay with me now.”
“I want to.” I really did. But it wasn’t that simple.
He kissed my forehead. “I know. It will be all right.”
We dozed for a while. Until a sudden knock on the door caught me on the edge of sleep, and I reacted by rolling off the bed and tight into the corner of the room. Tobin grabbed for me, missed and then sat up. His eyes fixed on me, he called out at the closed door, “Who is it?”
“Your dinner, sirs.”
“Set it there by the door, thank you.”
The messenger’s feet retreated down the passageway.
I stood up, trying not to look shaken. “Sorry. I fell.”
“Uh huh.” Tobin got up too, wrapped the sheet around himself, and opened the door enough to retrieve the tray. He gave me a good effort at a smile and sniffed at the covered dish. “Stew, I think. That should hold for a bit, while we wash up.”
“Good idea.”
“I’d love a bath, but with a formal court tonight, they’ll be in demand. I’m betting by the time we’d get any hot water it would be too late to take it.”
“Probably.”
He set the tray on the table and came to me. “Doing all right?”
“Oh yes. Except you covered up my view.” I waved at the sheet.
Tobin’s expression lightened. “That ship has sailed, at least for now. Share the wash water?”
“Sure.”
We took turns cleaning up, and put on smalls and shirts before eating. It was decadent to sit around in my underclothes with Tobin, sharing a meal and remembering how he’d felt, wrapped around me. I shifted restlessly in my chair. Tobin glanced cautiously at me and then read my expression and grinned. “I gather you’re not upset with me.”
“Counting the hours until we can do it again.”
“Praise the gods.” He sucked a piece of carrot off his spoon in a deliberately provocative way. “Later. The night is young and so are we.”
“Optimist.” I hadn’t felt young for a long time, but with Tobin I did. Young and soft and foolish and, yes, optimistic myself. Maybe I was fixable. Maybe it would just be a matter of time.
We dressed in court clothes, Tobin in his uniform with his sword at his hip, me in a dark suit I’d had tailored after we got back from the east. If Tobin was going to openly acknowledge me around the palace, then I wasn’t going to embarrass him by appearing ill-dressed. Tobin took over my buttons, and tied my neckcloth. He tugged and straightened, and then gave my shoulder a pat. “All the court maidens will be weeping, because you only have eyes for me.”
“I think you have that backwards.” I looked at him. The uniform suited him well, emphasizing his trim waist and the width of his shoulders. He’d shaved again, and combed his hair with water. He looked every inch the officer and gentleman.
“We’re a handsome couple, if we do say so ourselves.” He gave me a nod. “Ready? The balconies are one floor up, so I’ll take you there before going down to the scrimmage on the floor of the ballroom.”
“Thank you.”
We made our way through the busy corridors. The palace was in a bustle with the hour for court approaching. This was going to be a big ceremonial thing, held in the grand ballroom instead of the smaller, working King’s Court. It looked like everybody in the palace was headed that way, and a few more besides. Finally we turned aside, down a side hall, and to an anteroom. Several doors led off it, and behind them I could hear the hum and susurration of a gathering crowd. A few fashionable couples stood around the room, and they glanced up as we entered. Tobin ignored them. He said, “The blue balcony. This way.”
I followed him through one of the doors. On the other side was a small box-like balcony, jutting out above the crowded, noisy floor of the ballroom. There were six seats, four of which were filled. Tobin gestured me to the one on the other end, leaving a space open beside me. “Sit there.”
I lowered myself carefully, my knees shaking. The two men and two women in the box looked at me, and Tobin gave them a nod. “Lord and Lady Cairnsgarden, Lord and Lady Freemantle? Sorcerer Lyon.”
We all inclined our heads at each other. Tobin pressed my shoulder. “Just stay here, all right. Promise me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come back and get you afterward.”
“All right.” I grabbed his arm. “Be careful.”
He smiled sweetly at me. “It’s just an awards ceremony. I think I’ll live.”
I tried a joke. “Depends on what the king is giving you.”
“True. See you later.” He hurried out.
I peered over the rail. There was a raised dais at the far end of the room, hung with colored bunting. An ornate chair suggested a throne, but it was currently empty. The room was packed with fashionable people and men in uniform. As I watched, they began arranging themselves in some kind of order. I saw Tobin hurry in and set himself up against the wall to the left of the dais. He looked up, searching for me, and gave me a nod when he caught my eye.
The man next to me, whose name I’d already forgotten, said, “Are you a friend of Voice Tobin’s?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Now there’s a young man who is going places,” he said with a nod. “Very high in the king’s favor.”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to think about the places Tobin might be going. We’d had over a month together now, and half of it off duty. That was bound to end soon.
Before the man could comment further, a horn-call rang out. In the silence that followed, the speaker called, “All rise for the king, His Majesty Faro the Second, Duke…” He ran through the king’s list of titles, as we all got to our feet. Down below, the back door of the hall opened, and King Faro came in, resplendent in carmine robes and fur, wearing the crown of state. He moved easily, powerfully, looking every inch the monarch. It was hard to imagine this was the man who had told me to feel free to throw a gem off a cliff. The man I’d written a casual note to yesterday. My face flamed, imagining what he’d thought of my presumption. Although… he
had
written me that letter.
The king sat on his throne. That appeared to be the signal for those of us with chairs to seat ourselves too. I perched uneasily on the edge of mine. Down below, Tobin moved from ramrod straight to some kind of parade rest, with his hands behind him.
King Faro said, “This is a happy occasion, a celebration of victory, in the east and in the west. But We are well aware that victory always comes at a price. So We have chosen to begin this night with a moment of silence, in remembrance of those who fell to keep all of us free.” He bowed his head, and everyone in the room did the same.
I thought of Xan. Of Firstmage, even if I hadn’t much liked him. Of our soldiers who had no doubt died out of my sight on that hilltop. Of Meldov, fifteen years a ghost, but perhaps moved on out of the grey at last, and even the R’gin soldier, dead at Tobin’s hand because I threw a stone… I was glad when the king began speaking again.
“Tonight it’s Our privilege and honor to thank, and to reward, Our loyal subjects, whose bravery and attention to duty made those victories possible. Beginning with Our right hand in battle to the west. General Estray, please step forward.”
The king gave Estray a singularly ugly jeweled pin, or so I surmised from the little smirk Tobin threw me when it was pinned on the General’s chest. Also a courtesy title and some lands somewhere. I only half listened. A dozen other men were rewarded for bravery and heroics against the R’gin ships and the invasion. The fisherman who brought first word of the fleet was there, and was given a bigger boat, new nets, and a handful of silver.
When that was done, the king spoke of the campaign in the east. Word of the tunnel had long since spread, so there were no cries of surprise. King Faro thankfully didn’t seem to feel the need to share any details of how that tunnel was found. He said, “In doing the enchantments to bring Us this vital information, Firstmage, chief sorcerer of Our realm, overtaxed his strength and burst his heart.”
I wondered if that was an official diagnosis, or just poetic license. Not that it mattered a lot, but if it was truth, it might make transference an even less popular spell. I couldn’t be sorry about that. King Faro confirmed the promotion of Second and Thirdmages to First and Second, and called for a conclave to choose a new Thirdmage. He awarded the brother of the fallen sorcerer some valuable recompense, and gave other rewards to the surviving pair.
“And now, the man who saved Our life, when We were unhorsed and sorely beset on the field of battle. Voice Tobin?”