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“There were some boys in Vondh Rav. Other slaves. Another human, and a sun elf. But, um… We were young. I do not think any of us really liked each other. It was more that we were convenient to each other.” She glanced up at him. “And you?”

Their romantic histories sounded similar. But he was fairly certain he was older than she was, so perhaps the brevity of his list of previous partners was more embarrassing than hers. “Not many people are interested in a half-blood.”

She looked like she didn’t believe him. “You are very attractive,” she said bluntly.

“Maybe you’re the only one who thinks so.”

“I am not,” she said, and lay back in the bed. Seeing her lying in his bed did things to him. Slowly, he reclined beside her, still holding her hand. He wondered if it felt as good as she’d hoped it would.

It occurred to him that she might think she had to keep offering him favors in order to stay.

“You know that nothing is… expected of you,” he said. “Whatever else happens between us, or doesn’t happen, it will not affect your welcome here.”

She gave him a long look.

He started to get up. “You can use the bed. I’ll go—”

Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “I did not say I wanted you to leave.”

He paused. It had been a long time since he’d navigated any kind of romantic relationship, let alone one this complicated.

“Stop trying to run away while I am trying to seduce you,” she said, tugging lightly on his wrist. “You are making me look foolish. It is starting to annoy me.”

He smirked. “You know I’ll do whatever you want, Zara.” Even as he spoke, he felt a rush of energy moving toward his cock. They already knew they both liked it when she told him what to do. Perhaps it was time to openly admit that they were both deviants. “I want to do whatever you ask.”

But she hesitated, her eyes narrowed. “I do not want you to do it just because I want it. I want you to enjoy it.”

“I like following orders, Zara,” he said, meeting her eyes steadily.

She tilted her head at him as she sat up and began slowly removing his clothes. “Why?”

He watched her slender hands unlacing and unbuttoning. He made no move to assist her except to lift his arms when she went to pull his shirt over his head. Her hands took a break from their work to slide over his body. He watched her fingers as they tentatively traced over his ribs and pectorals. He’d thought she was being polite when she’d called him attractive, but the look on her face as she touched him was one of intense interest.

He had always been a secondary character in other people’s stories. For years now, his life had revolved around taking care of others’ needs. And as a half-blood, there had never been a time when he was completely secure, even in his own tavern. Betrayal and rejection lurked behind every pair of curious eyes that looked at him. These were the types of things that wore on a person. He was tired.

But when he was with Zara, all of that went away. He liked being aggressively desired. And he liked letting go and allowing her to lead. He did not often let his guard down, but with her, he had felt at ease almost from the beginning. When she touched him like this, he didn’t have to think, he could just submit. When she gave him an order, he could simply follow.

“It’s difficult to explain,” he said finally.

Her hands alighted on his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. “That is all right. I am happy enough knowing that I give you pleasure.”

She was perfect. Truly. He didn’t know how he’d gotten lucky enough to meet her.

She moved her hands to his pants. “Take these off,” she said softly. There was a hint of hesitation in her voice still. Giving orders didn’t come naturally to her. She was still getting used to it.

He did as she asked. She raised her eyebrows at his erect cock, then paused, glancing around the room, like she was thinking about what to do next. He waited.

“Sit still,” she said. “And close your eyes.”

He gave her a suspicious glance, but again, he did as she asked. He heard her moving around behind him, and then a folded piece of cloth slid over his eyes. A blindfold.

There was another pause, as if she was studying his body, which made him feel suddenly self-conscious and exposed.

Nero hated the way he looked. His gray skin made him look like one of the more monstrous creatures of the world, like an orc or a giant or even a demon. He had inherited none of what made either of his parents’ races attractive, and instead was a clunky combination of mismatched qualities. He was not as slender and effortlessly graceful as the Varai around him, but had instead grown bulky, somehow both muscular but clumsy at the same time. He could not grow a beard or any body hair like humans did, but his facial features were far too human for him to be confused for an elf. He was gray and bland and ugly.

Not that his looks were of any consequence. Most of the time, it was not something he thought about. But now, being scrutinized by this beautiful woman, he felt particularly unappealing.

Her hands came to rest on his bare hips. From behind him, she traced up his broad back at a leisurely pace, outlining muscles and bones and pausing over sensitive areas like his neck and under his arms. She seemed to notice the areas that made him tense up, and she lingered in those places.