Page 11 of His Noble Savior (Folk of Vale #3)

Richard

Richard fought his mounting arousal. Under his ministrations, Lilian came and came, his slender body thrashing in ecstasy. Richard wanted him, no use denying it, but he’d gone too far. Pleasuring Lilian’s balls with his mouth was something there was no coming back from. He wouldn’t hurt Lilian, no matter how much he yearned to tear his pants off and beg him to let him inside, to allow him to come inside his hot, tight hole. And damn, those powerful anal muscles were something else. They gripped Richard’s fingers with astonishing force. He didn’t dare think about what they’d do to his cock.

Richard longed to feel Lilian everywhere, to connect with him on an even deeper level, but he couldn’t go there. He was responsible for Lilian’s well-being. Lilian trusted him, and he had to honor that. He wouldn’t dream of touching Lilian in a way he didn’t want.

Richard was fulfilling his duty by applying faerie oil, and he’d helped Lilian reclaim his pleasure. It’d mended Lilian’s emotional wounds so that when he one day met a man he loved, he could indulge in intimacy without fear. Hopefully, that man would realize how lucky he was to have the love of someone as beautiful and kind as Lilian.

Richard didn’t know what drove him to make Lilian orgasm until he blissfully passed out. He cared for him, wanted him to be satisfied, but there’d also been a part of him—Richard wouldn’t admit it in his wildest dreams—that’d yearned to show Lilian how well he could take care of his sexual needs. Being a considerate partner who delivered exceptional pleasure had always been important to him, and he wanted Lilian to know what he was capable of in the bedchamber.

When Lilian passed out with a smile on his lips, his climax finally ebbing off, Richard fetched a wet cloth and cleaned him. He resisted the urge to lick off the stray droplet of cum that’d hit Lilian’s chin and taste him. He was already blurring the lines between friend and lover. And thus, he was thorough but respectful as he wiped him down.

He was finishing up when Lilian’s fair lashes lifted, pink eyes disoriented before he turned to Richard and gifted him a radiant smile. Neither of them said anything. Then Lilian spotted the cloth. “You cleaned me?”

“I did.” Maybe he shouldn’t have. What if it upset Lilian? What if it damaged the trust they’d built?

“That’s so kind of you.”

Lilian tackled him with a hug, his naked body pressing against Richard, who dropped the cloth and embraced him, holding him close, stroking his back. Lilian climbed half on top of him, and for a frightening moment, Richard was afraid he’d notice the hard rod desperately throbbing in his trousers. It felt like he was betraying Lilian even though he’d never act on his desires.

“You made me come so hard and so many times,” Lilian whispered in his ear. It wasn’t helping Richard’s efforts to get rid of his erection. He was aching for that sweet, tight hole. “Nobody’s made me come like this. Not even close.”

Fuck. “I hope I didn’t hurt you. I might’ve been too—”

“You were perfect.” Lilian kissed his jaw. The brush of lips disarmed Richard. “If anything, you helped my healing. With all the faerie oil you used, I’m better, not worse. My insides feel relaxed. Well-fucked.”

Lilian ought to stop talking. With every word, Richard’s desire to show him what it’d feel like to be well-fucked by him mounted. God, the things he wanted to do to him. The ways he wanted to pleasure him.

“We should get back to James and Raziel,” Richard said.

Lilian deflated, and a pang shot through Richard’s heart. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment, but neither did he want to risk scaring Lilian.

Richard changed into a fresh shirt and laced up his doublet, watching Lilian dress. Before they left his chambers, he smoothed Lilian’s hair, earning a bright smile. James might guess what they’d been up to, but Richard didn’t want to make it obvious. They returned downstairs, Richard feeling more protective than ever. If their guests noticed anything, they didn’t comment on it.

After their departure in the late afternoon, Richard and Lilian’s routine resumed. They didn’t intentionally avoid the topic of what had happened, but neither did they talk about it. Nevertheless, an invisible band had been created between them, drawing them closer. It wasn’t only Lilian who loathed every inch of space between them. Richard enjoyed holding him close, listening to Lilian’s breathing, feeling every move of his muscles.

A couple of days later, Lilian suggested taking seeds and dried oats to feed the ducks in the moat. Richard had never done this but went along with it. Maybe it was a faerie custom, and respecting those was important. The sun was setting, casting its golden light on the forested plains to the east, painting the sky in vibrant shades of gold, pink and purple. Clouds drifted in, their undersides catching the rays of the fading sun. Richard loved this time of day. He inhaled deeply as they walked onto the drawbridge, finding the air humid with recent rain. The scent of fresh earth mixed with the staleness of the moat.

“Did you use to feed the ducks at the Spring Court?” Richard asked as Lilian opened the little bag of bird food he’d put together in the kitchen.

“Sometimes.” A smile lit Lilian’s face. “It’s for good luck.”

Down in the moat, mallards were swimming in the murky water. Lilian sprinkled a few oats and seeds into the water. For a moment, the ducks didn’t react, but then a couple of curious males approached, swimming toward the floating bits of food. Once they’d convinced themselves it was edible, they gobbled up the seeds, attracting the attention of their friends. Soon, a quacking half dozen had come to be fed. Lilian did his best to spread the grains among them, but some mallards were fiercer than others, pushing their friends out of the way to get to the food.

“Hey!” Lilian called them out. “There’s enough for everyone. No reason to be nasty.”

One female wildly beat its wings to scatter the competition, angrily quacking as it splashed water.

“Do you want to feed them too?” Lilian asked, opening the jute bag’s mouth wide for Richard.

“Sure.” Richard retrieved a handful of grains and seeds, and trickled some of it into the moat. The mallards raced for the grains, and Richard dropped another serving behind the ducks so that the stragglers could eat too.

“Clever,” Lilian said.

“I think we should split them. If I feed them from one end of the bridge and you from the other, there’s a bigger chance they’ll all get to eat.”

“Good idea.”

With a grin, Lilian jogged the few steps to the other side of the bridge. He caught Richard’s gaze, raising his hand with the bird food over the water.

“One,” Lilian said. “Two. Three.”

They dropped the seed simultaneously. It confused the ducks, which swam back and forth before each one settled on a direction. With only three ducks to feed each, it was easier to divide the grains fairly.

Lilian flashed Richard a smile from across the bridge. He looked genuinely happy—and had, for the first time, voluntarily put a few yards between them. Richard’s heart grew light. Lilian was healing, physically and emotionally.

More ducks came, begging for food. Richard and Lilian did their best to distribute it evenly between the birds. Overhead, the clouds were closing in. Eventually, the bag of grains ran out, and Lilian was tucking the empty sack into his pocket when the first raindrop landed on the tip of Richard’s nose.

“We should go inside before we get wet.”

Lilian’s pink eyes shone with mischief. “So what if we get wet?”

He ran toward Richard, caught him by the wrist and dragged him across the bridge into the outer courtyard. Richard blinked at the ease with which Lilian pulled him along. His preternatural strength was returning. Fae might not be as strong as orcs, but they beat humans any day.

A drizzle set in. Unperturbed, Lilian skipped further into the grass, spinning around to face Richard. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Richard didn’t know if he meant the rain, nature, or something else. He only had eyes for Lilian. Droplets clung to his tousled blond strands. His svelte form had shed any signs of hunger, and his cheeks were a healthy pink. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

The raindrops thickened. Lilian took Richard by the hand and waist and pulled him close.

“You’ve regained your strength,” Richard said.

Lilian grinned. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” He slung his arms around Richard and lifted him a couple of inches off the ground, sending Richard laughing. “Give me another week, and I’ll bridal carry you.”

“Nah,” Richard said, shaking his head as Lilian set him down.

“But I’d be able to.”

“I have no doubt.”

It was only then that it hit him how close they were. Mere inches separated their faces. The rain grew into a downpour, heavy drops pattering Richard’s skin, soaking his clothes. He didn’t care.

“Catch me,” Lilian said, giddiness spreading his lips, and he tore away.

It took Richard a second to break out of his stupor, then he raced after him. Damn, Lilian was fast. His laughter bellowed through the courtyard as Richard jumped over growing puddles only to have his shoes drenched by the wet grass. He didn’t mind; he was happy Lilian was having fun.

Richard never caught him, but eventually, Lilian slowed to a stop and faced him. The downpour had plastered his hair to his head, rain cascading down the long line of his slender neck, the water sliding under his unbuttoned shirt. The white linen was soaked and clung to Lilian like a second skin. His dusty pink nipples stood out against the wet fabric, the centers erect from the cold.

“What are you looking at?” Lilian asked.

Caught, Richard flushed, tearing his gaze off Lilian’s chest. He shouldn’t have stared. Ogling Lilian was on the list of things he mustn’t do. “I’m sorry; I—”

Lilian cut his apology short when he stepped close, seized Richard by the waist, and sealed their mouths together. The taste of rain. The softness of Lilian’s lips. The heat of his body.

It drove Richard out of his mind. His hands found Lilian’s neck, the small of his back. He pressed their bodies together and moaned.

Lilian dove inside. His hot tongue slid over Richard’s, and stars exploded before his eyes. His stomach dropped. This was surreal, had to be a dream. He was kissing Lilian—Lilian!—in the pouring rain, their clothes drenched and their bodies entwined.

Impossible to wrap his head around it. The scent of spring flowers enveloped him. Lilian’s lips were as supple as they were demanding. Richard kissed back with fervor, devouring Lilian, who tasted better than the sweetest fruit.

Did Lilian reciprocate his feelings? Richard couldn’t believe it. He got to hold Lilian and taste him, no longer hiding that his protectiveness was in part romantic.

“You feel so good,” Lilian purred, burying a hand in Richard’s curls.

Richard clutched him. Only a second before he would’ve shoved his thigh between Lilian’s legs, did he catch himself. Lilian would set the pace, not him.

“Let’s go inside,” Lilian breathed, and so many unsaid things swung in his words. Promises.

Richard couldn’t listen to them. Taking things slowly was key.

Back in the castle, he asked the servants to prepare a bath. He could dry off, but Lilian needed to warm up, and a nice, long soak in hot water would do that. Lilian was getting stronger, but risking his progress with a cold was a bad idea.

The steward caught Richard before he ascended the stairs. “There’s a missive from the Spring Court, my lord,” she said. “I’ve placed it on your writing room desk. The messenger who delivered it said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Richard said. He’d get to it later.

Lilian shot him a sidelong glance. The missive was likely from Queen Dahlia, who wanted to advance negotiations regarding her daughter’s betrothal to Richard. He couldn’t think about that. There was enormous pressure on him to marry up, but having kissed Lilian, he didn’t want to go through with it.

Soon, the attendants carried buckets of steaming water up the stairs, filling the tub in Richard’s chambers. Once the bath was prepared, Richard turned to his washroom shelves. He owned a collection of fragrant oils and asked Lilian to choose one.

“I want the spring flower oil,” Lilian said, picking up a flask filled with a rose-colored liquid.

Richard smiled. Spring flowers. Lilian’s scent.

Lilian uncorked the vial and poured a little into the tub. Light pink bubbles rose. Setting the flask aside, Lilian stripped off his shirt. Richard tried and failed to look away.

“Would you like me to stay while you bathe?” Richard asked. With Lilian’s renewed strength and independence, he wasn’t sure if he still wanted him around.

Lilian froze with his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers, ready to push them down. He furrowed his brow.

“I’ll leave. I just wanted to see if—”

Confusion contorted Lilian’s pretty features. “Leave? You don’t want to bathe with me?”

Richard must’ve given him a horror-stricken expression because the next emotion crossing Lilian’s face was hurt. It stung like a knife. Hurting Lilian was the last thing he wanted. Richard had to explain why he couldn’t join Lilian in the tub. But how? He’d give himself away.

Slowly, as if Lilian was a fawn he was trying not to spook, Richard placed a hand on his upper arm. Lilian shivered.

“I’d like to, but it’s not a good idea,” Richard said.

“Why not?” Lilian’s eyes were wide and teary, like a kicked puppy’s.

For God’s sake, how was Richard supposed to deny him when Lilian looked at him like that? He sighed.

“Lilian… We kissed. I’m attracted to you. The water is hot. If you and I go in there naked, I might get hard—no, I will get hard—and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you. I’m supposed to help you heal and protect you, and I need to ensure I’m able to do that.”

“You’re attracted to me?”

Was that the bit, out of all the things Richard had said, Lilian latched onto? Seriously? “Is it not obvious?”

Lilian stepped closer and pressed a kiss to Richard’s lips, brief as the beat of a butterfly wing. “Join me in the bath. I insist. It’s fine if your body reacts to me. I react to you too.”