Chapter 433: A Little Patience

With quick, steady fingers, Zarius unhooked the silver fastenings at Cherion’s waist, his fingers brushing against Cherion’s skin as he loosened the heavy cloth and dragged the fabric down past Cherion’s hips to his thighs. Taking the hint, Cherion pushed himself up slightly on Zarius’s lap, resting his weight against Zarius’s broad shoulders as he hooked his fingers into the loosened cloth, dragging the trousers down his calves and impatiently kicking them off the bed entirely.

Cherion gasped as the air hit his lower body, but the chill lasted less than a second. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of Zarius’s neck. Oh, his scent was thick enough to make his head spin, washing away the dust of the temple tunnels and the lingering paranoia of the King’s hidden art room.

"You’re taking your sweet time," Cherion murmured against Zarius’s collarbone, his teeth lightly grazing the heavy pulse point on his neck. His hands slid up into Zarius’s dark hair, his fingers tangling tightly into the thick strands. "For someone who promised to give me everything, you’re moving remarkably slow, Your Grace."

Zarius’s breath hitched, a low, rumbling growl echoing deep in his chest at the light bite. He didn’t rush. Instead, Zarius tightened his grip on Cherion’s bare hips, holding him steady as he lifted him just enough to adjust their angle. He brought Cherion back down slowly, dragging Cherion’s lap over every rigid, burning inch of his hard length, making sure Cherion

Every shift of their weight sent a sharp spark of awareness straight to Cherion’s core, making his breath hitch in his throat.

"Is that a command, Cherion?" Zarius purred, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth, gravelly register that sent a sharp shiver trailing straight down Cherion’s spine. His thumb rubbed a slow circle against the bone of Cherion’s hip, asserting a quiet dominance that made Cherion’s knees feel weak.

"Consider it an order," Cherion breathed, his eyes heavy and half-lidded as he leaned back slightly to look into Zarius’s face. He smirked, a wicked, breathless glint in his eyes despite the bright, burning flush painting his cheekbones. "Unless the high-and-mighty Duke of Valtrane needs a bit of help undoing his own clothes?"

Keeping his eyes locked on Cherion’s, Zarius propped himself up slightly on one elbow, using his free hand to unbuckle the heavy leather clasps of his outer noble vest. He shoved the thick garment off his shoulders, letting it pool onto the mattress behind him, before hooking his fingers under the hems of his underlying linen tunics.

With a low grunt, Zarius hauled the heavy layers up and over his broad head in one swift, rough motion, tossing the whole bundle off the side of the bed.

He sank back against the pillows, bare-chested and breathing heavily. Without the shirt in the way, his chest was right there in all its broad glory.

This was the true national treasure Cherion was more than happy to loot with his eyes.

Zarius reached up, cupping the back of Cherion’s head with a hand large enough to swallow his skull, and pulled him down into a fierce, possessive kiss.

Cherion let out a muffled gasp directly into Zarius’s mouth as Zarius’s tongue parted his lips, taking complete and ruthless control, swallowing the soft sound whole before Cherion even had the chance to complain. Zarius’s free hand slid down Cherion’s back, tracing the dip of his spine before cupping the full curve of his backside, squeezing tightly and pulling Cherion’s hips right up against the heavy, burning ridge of his groin.

Cherion melted into the contact, his own arms wrapping around Zarius’s neck, pulling himself closer until there wasn’t a breath of space left between them.

When Zarius finally pulled back to let Cherion draw air into his starved lungs, Cherion’s head fell back, his throat exposed and chest heaving violently.

Zarius’s eyes darkened at the sight of Cherion still frustratingly wrapped in fine aristocrat’s silk. Driven past his patience, Zarius reached up and hooked his broad hands right into the embroidered collar of Cherion’s vest and underlying tunic, giving a harsh, ruthless pull. The delicate noble layers tore completely down the center with a loud rip, fine horn buttons snapping off and scattering over Zarius’s chest and the mattress, as Zarius stripped the ruined silk off Cherion’s arms and tossed it aside, exposing his pale chest fully to the cool air.

Before Cherion could even process the loss of his shirt, Zarius grabbed him by the waist, rolled Cherion onto his back against the mattress, and pinned him underneath, taking full control from above.

With Cherion’s head resting comfortably against the pillows, Zarius trailed hot, damp kisses up Cherion’s jaw, over his pulse point, and down across his collarbone. He slowed down near Cherion’s bare chest, angling his head to nip lightly at a sensitive nipple. The sharp spark of friction sent a jolt straight to Cherion’s core, making him squirm and arch his back wildly on Zarius’s lap, his hands digging into Zarius’s shoulders for support.

"Zarius..." Cherion whimpered, his hands clutching tightly at Zarius’s bare shoulders. "Stop teasing..."

"I am not teasing," Zarius murmured against his damp skin. "I am making sure your body is ready."

Cherion’s legs twitched instinctively as Zarius’s hand cupped his inner thigh, sliding over his sensitive skin to anchor him firmly in place. Zarius worked his broad thumb around Cherion’s tight entrance first, massaging the sensitive ring of muscle in steady, circular motions until it began to yield and soften under the firm pressure.

"Ah... Zarius," Cherion gasped, his back arching slightly off the bed as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

"Relax for me," Zarius commanded softly, his voice acting as a steady, low anchor in the haze of pleasure.

Slowly, Zarius pressed the slick tip of his index finger inside. The tight, scorching heat surrounding his knuckle made Zarius let out a low, ragged breath of his own. He pushed in to the second knuckle, staying still to give Cherion’s body time to adjust to the intrusion. Once the muscle relaxed, he began a slow, steady pumping motion, spreading the slick oil deep inside Cherion’s internal walls with every deep stroke.

Cherion let out a long, shuddering sigh, his head rolling against the pillow as his breath came faster. "More... Zarius, please."

Zarius stretched him mercilessly, curling his fingers at a steep upward angle until he struck the hot, swollen sweet spot on Cherion’s front wall, wringing a ragged gasp straight from his throat.

"Ngh! Right... right there!" Cherion cried out loudly, his toes curling tightly into the bedsheets. A burst of intense heat shot straight to the tip of his length, which was already weeping clear, heavy slick onto his lower abdomen.

Zarius smirked. He added a third finger, pushing Cherion’s limits. He worked all three in a firm, curling motion, stretching Cherion wide enough to accommodate his massive size, making sure the tight entrance was completely relaxed, slicked, and yielding to his touch.

Cherion was panting heavily, his inner walls milking Zarius’s fingers desperately with every stroke. The pleasure was becoming too intense, too overwhelming to bear while lying still. He reached down, his trembling hand grabbing Zarius’s thick wrist to pull his hand away.

"No more fingers... please, Zarius. I’m ready," Cherion rasped, his voice breaking with sheer need. "I want you inside me. Now."

Zarius withdrew his fingers with a slow, slick sound that made Cherion shiver.

He reached down, popping the heavy silver buckle of his trousers and shoving the dark fabric down his thighs until his broad, erect length sprang free. He gathered the heavy coat of clear moisture weeping from Cherion and his own slicked fingers, stroking his length completely from root to tip until his shaft glistened wetly.

Hovering over him, Zarius positioned his thick head directly against Cherion’s slick, relaxed entrance, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of Cherion’s head.

"Look at me, Cherion," Zarius growled, his voice thick with undisputed possessiveness.

Cherion opened his heavy eyes, locking onto Zarius’s burning red gaze. The devotion and heat in Zarius’s eyes took Cherion’s breath away. "Take me," Cherion whispered, his voice trembling but absolute.

Zarius pushed forward. The broad head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, stretching Cherion wide as Zarius sank slowly, relentlessly deeper into the hot, slick channel, burying himself all the way to the hilt in one long, agonizingly sweet thrust that filled Cherion completely.

Cherion’s eyes flew wide, a loud, breathless cry tearing from his throat as his legs instinctively wrapped tightly around Zarius’s waist, completely filled, possessed, and pinned beneath the northern Duke’s weight.

The sheer sensation of being opened that wide and that deep made Cherion’s vision whiten at the edges, his inner walls immediately locking down around Zarius’s intrusive length in a desperate, clinging grip.