Page 8 of His Noble Savior (Folk of Vale #3)

Lilian

Lilian’s favorite part of the day was lying in bed with Richard in the morning. That was the time when they got the closest, cuddling under the duvet, Richard’s strong hands rubbing his back. Lilian nestled against him, virtually purring under Richard’s attention.

After a round of snuggling, Lilian prepared for the application of the oil. Covering himself with a towel, Lilian watched Richard slick up. Strangely, he relished Richard rubbing faerie oil into him. He’d feared he’d never enjoy intimate touch again, but he liked it when Richard took care of him.

Richard crawled between his legs. Tall and broad-shouldered, he towered over him. It should’ve intimidated Lilian, reminded him of those horrid orcs, whose big bodies had inflicted immeasurable pain on him. Instead, he felt protected.

Richard’s oiled finger touched him, and Lilian’s insides unraveled under the tingly heat. Holding his gaze, Richard pushed inside, those beautiful hazel orbs trained on him as he touched him in the most personal way.

Then it happened. Butterflies erupted in Lilian’s stomach. His body and soul opened for Richard, his heart fluttering. Why did he love having Richard inside of him when he’d hated having the orcs in the same place?

Richard progressed deeper. The faerie oil’s magic soothed Lilian and set him alight. Tingles washed over him, and he gasped, his hole tightening. He clamped down on Richard.

Fuck! He hadn’t meant for that to happen. His inner muscles contracted on their own accord. An indiscernible expression flashed across Richard’s face so quickly Lilian couldn’t be sure if it’d been there at all.

“Everything all right?” Richard asked, rubbing Lilian’s knee soothingly, though he looked distracted.

“Y-Yes.”

Was it though? Why did applying faerie oil, a necessity that healed his injury, feel so good? With Richard’s finger inside him, the pain and soreness evaporated, and pleasure ignited.

This was so different from everything Lilian had experienced before he’d come to Somerdale Castle. Richard cared about him, his affection evident in his every glance and touch. Lilian could barely believe that such a noble, kind man would tend to his injury and make him better. Richard was as considerate as he was attractive, a dizzying combination. That he looked after and protected Lilian meant so much. He was an eligible bachelor in his prime and had to have excellent marriage prospects with the higher nobility. With royalty. Lilian wasn’t worthy of his attention. He was a lesser fae; he was plain and had been sullied by orcs.

Richard moved through him, rotating his finger on the gentle in and out. So much lay in his emerald eyes. Lilian could’ve drowned in them. The oil lit up his hole, and a flush of pleasure washed over him. He fought it, but it was too late. Underneath the towel, his cock stirred. Shock bolted through him. How was this possible?

Richard pulled out. They were done for this morning. Lilian didn’t move, the heat and tingling of the faerie oil coursing through him. The ghost of Richard’s touch lingered, and Lilian held onto it until his insides settled. The oil had taken away the sting. He’d need more in a few hours, but for now, he felt better thanks to Richard’s gentle and patient care.

Getting ready for the day, Lilian watched as Richard dressed, pulling his dark, fitted trousers up his long, muscular legs. Richard discarded his nightshirt, revealing his broad back and an expanse of smooth, beige skin. Too bad that a minute later, a pristine white linen shirt and a gold-embroidered doublet covered his torso. Lilian wouldn’t have minded if Richard walked around bare-chested.

He almost slapped himself. Thinking about Richard in those terms was bad . Richard had saved him, and how was Lilian thanking him? By drooling over him.

It was hard to stop. Richard finger-combed his gorgeous curls in front of the mirror. Lilian loved Richard’s hair. He didn’t dare to run his fingers through it and risk ruining his carefully tousled look, but he bet those locks were soft as silk.

Oblivious to Lilian’s inner turmoil, Richard affixed an emerald and gold brooch with the House Dalton coat of arms to his doublet. When he looked up, he caught Lilian’s stare in the mirror and smiled. Lilian blushed furiously and tore his gaze away.

A knock on the door announced that breakfast had been delivered to the drawing room. With both of them dressed, they passed through the door, Richard’s hand on Lilian’s back. The touch ignited him. Drove him wild. What was wrong with him?

They still took their meals alone, George and Resh having withdrawn to the third floor. Richard had insisted on it, wanting Lilian to feel safe.

The attendants had delivered two plates of fried eggs, cheese and buttered rye bread and set the two servings on opposite ends of the table. Oh, that wasn’t how Lilian and Richard ate.

Richard took his seat on an upholstered chair, and Lilian climbed into his lap. He slung an arm around Richard’s neck, who curled an arm around his waist in return. The more points of contact, the better. It calmed Lilian. The world couldn’t hurt him when they were entwined.

Richard placed a plates on Lilian’s thighs, and they shared the food, finishing one serving of breakfast before they turned to the next.

“I feel bad that Resh is confined to the third floor,” Lilian said, licking butter off his lips.

Richard watched him intently. “Don’t worry about him.”

“No, I mean… he lives here. It’d be good for me if I got to know him. As you said, if your brother is with him, he can’t be that bad. And as much as I enjoy being holed up with you, I must mingle with people. Not everyone I’m going to meet will be my friend, so let’s start with someone who frightens me but isn’t actually dangerous.”

“Are you sure? I can arrange a family dinner for tonight if you like. We could eat in the dining hall.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Lilian leaned in and kissed Richard’s temple. He froze. Damn, why did he have to do that? He quickly withdrew. Sure, Richard had kissed the top of his head a couple of times, but Lilian had never done this. Did Richard mind? Lilian found nothing but a content smile on his face.

“Uhm… do you think George or Resh will mind if I sit close to you during dinner?” Lilian asked. “They might find it strange if…”

“They don’t have a say in who gets to sit in my lap,” Richard said, his tone implying that the idea of Lilian sitting anywhere else was preposterous. His hand on Lilian’s waist tightened possessively, sending thrills through him. Richard’s gesture meant nothing, Lilian reminded himself, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He was an eager puppy for every treat Richard gave him.

After breakfast, they moved to Richard’s writing room where a couple of hours of work waited. Nobles were astonishingly busy with their duties. Lilian had imagined them as lords and ladies of leisure and was surprised to find Richard so dedicated to serving his people.

As much as Lilian would’ve loved to sit in Richard’s lap while he drafted letters, it wasn’t practical. When Richard asked how he’d like to spend his time, Lilian told him he loved to paint. In his hollow tree, Lilian had decorated his pottery with flowers and squiggles, and while making pottery in Richard’s writing room was out of the question, creating other types of art was possible. Richard had sent a servant to Somerdale town to buy canvases and oil paint for Lilian. That way, they could sit next to each other, knees brushing.

As they worked, the smell of paper, ink and oil paint filled the room. Now and then, Richard’s hand would wander to Lilian’s back and stroke him. The innocent touch set Lilian on fire, and he leaned into it. Deep warmth spread through him, sinking into his loins.

With Richard’s hand on him, he could barely focus on the apple blossoms he was adding in white and pink to his landscape painting. Lilian hummed as Richard slid to his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

“I’m writing to my cousin James,” Richard said, glancing up from the letter he was crafting. “He’s helping me search for Nathan. We have a lot to discuss, and the plan was for me to see him at Castlehill, but I believe it’d be better if he joined us here. What do you think?”

Lilian wasn’t sure what to say. Why was Richard asking? Somerdale Castle was Lilian’s haven, and so was Richard. If Richard went to see his cousin, Lilian could either stay behind or come with him and leave the protective walls— if Richard let him come. Lilian would rather go with Richard, but that might not be on the table. Staying put was the easiest solution, but Lilian didn’t want to inconvenience James either.

“Would you be more comfortable staying here?” Richard asked.

“I… uhm…”

Richard studied him for a moment. “I’ll ask James to come.”

Gratitude overcame Lilian. Richard’s hand slid off his shoulder, and he offered it to him. Lilian took it, interlacing their fingers. While Richard wrote with his right, Lilian painted with his dominant left, and so they held hands as they worked.

Lilian dipped his brush into yellow oil paint and dotted the canvas with buttercups. It would’ve been easier if he’d used the easel that stood in the corner of the room, but then he couldn’t hold Richard’s hand, and that was out of the question. Richard was his rock.

Lilian’s life would’ve been so different had he been born a human down in Somerdale. Maybe he would’ve grown up on a farm and met his lord, Baron Richard Dalton of Somerdale, during the annual spring festival. But then Richard would’ve never noticed him.

The what-ifs of his life ran through Lilian’s mind. What if he’d stayed away from the Great River? If he’d remained in the faerie realm, the orcs would’ve never gotten to him. They wouldn’t have…

“Are you all right?” Richard rubbed his thumb over the back of Lilian’s hand. “You’re tensing.”

Lilian’s shoulders sagged. “I’m just thinking… I did so many stupid things.”

Richard frowned. “Like what?”

“The day the orcs caught me, I’d gone to the Great River to collect clay. People worried the orcs might one day cross, but I was blind to those concerns. I should’ve stayed in the faerie realm where I was safe. Or I could’ve come armed. I was so stupid. None of this would’ve happened had I stopped to think. And when the orcs caught me… I didn’t fight hard enough. There were opportunities to escape that I didn’t take and—”

“Lilian.” Richard set his quill aside and took Lilian’s face between his hands. “I’m going to stop you right there. You’re taking responsibility for what happened when none of it was your fault. You did nothing wrong. The orcs didn’t take you because you made a mistake; they did it because they’re evil. There’s nothing you could’ve done to change the outcome—you were up against six orcs. You made the best decisions you could at the time. Those savages decided to take you against your will. All of it is their fault; none of it is yours. They’re the only ones to blame.”

“I…”

“You want a sense of control. You’re trying to gain it by analyzing the past, but in the process, you’re blaming yourself. As much as we both would like to change what happened, it’s impossible. The past is the past, but I want to help you take charge of your future.”

Richard’s words took a weight off his shoulders. He was right. By agonizing over every step that’d led him into captivity, Lilian was trying to rewrite the past. Undo what had been done. But the past was unchangeable. No amount of ruminating would make a difference. The future, however, was full of possibilities.

“I appreciate your kindness,” Lilian said, and Richard brushed his knuckles over his cheek, wiping away the lone tear he’d shed.

The door swung open, and George strode inside. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Lilian and Richard so intimately entangled. He hovered halfway into the room, unsure what to do, his eyes flitting between them.

“Learn to knock,” Richard said, slowly withdrawing from Lilian.

George muttered an apology, then went on to tell Richard about the letter they’d received from an allied house. “By the way, have you written to the Spring Court?”

“Not recently,” Richard said curtly.

Richard had been in touch with the Spring Court? This was news to Lilian. Had Richard written to someone there, telling them Lilian was with him? But why? And to whom? Was someone coming to collect him? Surely, Richard would’ve told him. He wouldn’t arrange it behind his back. Unless Lilian wasn’t welcome anymore.

“You’re in touch with someone at the Spring Court?” Lilian asked in a small voice.

“I nearly forgot about it,” Richard said with pinched lips.

“You forgot about it?” George asked, his tone going shrill. “You’re talking to the Spring Queen, and you forget ?” He turned to Lilian. “Would you believe him? My dear brother is looking to marry up, an earl or a duchess would’ve been good, but he’s managed to establish correspondence with the Spring Court to negotiate a marriage to Princess Bellerose.”

Lilian’s eyes went wide. “Princess Bellerose?”

“I’ve never met her,” Richard ground out. “It would’ve been a marriage of convenience.”

“I know, I know,” George babbled. “You can’t afford to marry for love. Save your speech, I’ve heard it a hundred times. Well, if you want a betrothal to Bellerose, pick up that quill and write to Queen Dahlia. She’s keen, but God knows how long that’ll last.”

Lilian’s mouth dropped.

“That’s enough, George,” Richard said, a sharp edge to his tone. “Lilian and I will see you and Resh at dinner tonight. Inform the attendants. You’re dismissed.”

George snorted but strolled out the door, shutting it with a click.

“Please ignore my brother,” Richard said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

But the knife was already lodged in Lilian’s chest. Of course, Richard was looking to marry. It didn’t surprise Lilian, and yet it was painful to hear. Turbulent times reigned in Vale, and the noble houses competed to secure the best political alliances. Lilian couldn’t blame Richard. If he married a princess of the Spring Court, House Dalton would be protected from the invading orcs. But a fae wedding would also bind Richard and Bellerose’s souls, creating an eternal bond. Lilian felt sick.

The princess’s interest in Richard was self-explanatory. She had to have heard of his upstanding character and good looks. Queen Dahlia would be itching to have Richard as her son-in-law. The year before, Lilian had heard that Lord Malorn, now the Autumn King, had married a human nobleman, and since then, the other courts had been building alliances of their own.

Princess Bellerose had to be gorgeous, and Richard would fall for her the minute he saw her. Why did Lilian feel so disappointed? In a couple of years, Richard would turn thirty, and by then he’d want to be married to someone powerful and influential. A princess was an appropriate match. Richard needed to forge a favorable union. His family’s lives depended on it.

If Lilian didn’t want to get hurt, he better stifled his growing attachment to Richard. Their time together was finite, and Lilian ought to learn to stand on his own two feet. He should return to his hollow tree and continue making pottery. Hell, he enjoyed making pottery. But at the thought of leaving Somerdale Castle, his heart bled.

Time passed in a blur, and before long, evening was settling outside the windows. Dinner with George and Resh went well. As expected, George raised an eyebrow at Lilian sitting in Richard’s lap but didn’t say a word. Since he had an imp for a master, he could hardly object to Richard hosting a fae.

Resh kept stealing food off George’s plate, ribbing him throughout dinner. George took no issue with it, grinning at Resh’s banter. He even unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, proudly displaying his collar. Richard was right—George was happy with Resh, their love for each other evident.

Lilian’s proximity to Richard was gift and torment alike. He loved nothing more than having Richard around him, constantly touching; it was what he needed. At the same time, the longer Richard held him, the harder it became to ignore how affectionate he was being. Lilian loved his touch, and Richard’s hand wandered lower than usual, straying to the small of his back. It only happened between courses, when Richard was deep in conversation with George, meaning the touches were unconscious, but that didn’t mean they didn’t make Lilian’s heart flutter.

Richard’s alluring sandalwood scent filled Lilian’s nostrils while his velvety voice drifted into his ears. It didn’t matter that he was talking about taxes and the price of wheat. Richard’s timbre undid Lilian. His body heat seeped into him, the layers of clothing between them be damned.

Mercifully hidden by the table, Lilian hardened. He gritted his teeth, but when a small noise slipped past his lips, Richard placed a hand on Lilian’s thigh to soothe him, making it twice as bad.

Richard was all around him, and Lilian loved it. He hankered for more. Richard’s scent, voice and touch tempted Lilian to cross a line, to say or do something stupid. He wasn’t thinking straight. He yearned for Richard with every fiber of his being, wanted him in ways he couldn’t have him.

By the time they retired to Richard’s chambers for the night, Lilian’s mind was no longer in charge, his heart and desire taking the reins. All those months of deprivation had left him needy for affection and release. Richard was showering him with the former, but the latter was elusive. There’d been no relief during his captivity. The constant pain and abuse had smothered any semblance of arousal.

In Richard’s care, Lilian’s sexual needs, which had lain buried for months, resurfaced. Had Lilian been able to leave Richard for five minutes, he would’ve satisfied his revived urges, but the moment he lost sight of Richard, he lapsed into shaking like a leaf. Richard’s absence, however brief, was a sure way to douse any heat in his loins. It was as though his desire had latched onto Richard, making him the north pole Lilian’s carnal urges pointed toward.

They extinguished the lights, leaving only a couple of candles on the bedside table burning. They drenched the bed in warm, low light, liquid gold shimmering on the white sheets. It was cruel how romantic it looked.

Richard guided him to the bed with a hand on his waist. Lilian knew he did it to reassure him. But then why did his touch sear him in the best way?

Lilian undressed and slid into bed—better to leave the nightshirt off as it was easy to make a mess with the faerie oil. He covered up with a towel, leaving his bare chest and legs on display. Richard, who didn’t bother to change, retrieved the vial. The sight of him in his fine clothing, moving onto the bed and between his legs, had Lilian’s stomach dropping.

Richard’s bronze curls gleamed in the candlelight; his smooth skin took on a darker shade. He spread the oil on his finger, and Lilian’s legs fell open. The towel slid to the side by an inch, still covering him. His cock was half-hard. Oh damn. Lilian steered his mind to innocent thoughts—the last thing he needed was an erection.

The moment Richard brushed his opening, Lilian was lost. The touch wasn’t different from the usual, and Richard’s demeanor was as polite as always, but Lilian’s body, rabid with need, flooded his cock with blood.

If Richard noticed anything, he was too well-mannered to show it. The faerie oil stimulated Lilian’s entrance, readying it for breach. Heat collected in Lilian’s cheeks, and he was thankful for the dim light.

His hole had long stopped resisting Richard. The healing process was well underway, and Lilian felt better every time they applied the oil. These days, it didn’t take Richard more than a couple of strokes across his rim for the sphincter to loosen, welcoming him into his body. A longing throb pulsed through Lilian’s cock, and he braced against the moan that threatened to spill from his lips.

With a smidgen of pressure, Richard overcame the little ring of muscle and pushed inside. The faerie oil kindled Lilian’s arousal, heating his channel until it glowed with need. The urgency grew with every inch Richard progressed. He bottomed out, and Lilian’s pelvic floor gave a lazy contraction. So. Fucking. Good.

Reality caught up with him, and his gaze flew to Richard’s. He was watching Lilian intently, though his expression gave nothing away. Could Lilian hope that Richard hadn’t felt the lustful twitch of his inner muscles? No. He had to have noticed, but perhaps he was putting it down to an involuntary bodily reaction—that was what it was, after all, though it felt intimate. At least Richard wasn’t flustered, quieting Lilian’s worry of having fazed him.

The oil worked, and tingles exploded throughout Lilian, fiercer and hotter than ever, and he bucked, the towel almost sliding off him. The sudden move hit Richard unprepared. His finger jerked inside Lilian, curving upward. Pressing against his prostate.

Pleasure hit him like a lightning bolt. Lilian’s vision whited out. His toes curled, and he gasped, his mind reeling, trying to catch up with what was happening. His mouth was faster. “Don’t move!”

Urgent and forceful, his voice sounded foreign to his ears, the breathy command hanging between them for a stunned second. Richard heeded it, every muscle locked as he hovered over Lilian, shock on his face.

“Did I hurt you?” Alarm laced Richard’s tone.

Lilian couldn’t think, his mind wiped out as he stared into Richard’s hazel eyes, a soft fingertip pushed against his most sensitive spot. “No…” He wanted to explain, but his thoughts ran away as he tried to grasp them, every part of him focusing on the hidden place deep inside of him Richard was lodged against. “No. Just don’t move.”

Richard gave him a nod, keeping still. Something nagged at the back of Lilian’s mind, telling him to put a stop to this, but it was washed away by growing waves of ecstasy. His cock jerked. A pearl of lust rolled onto his stomach. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. No. He’d never felt this good.

A guttural groan broke out of Lilian.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” Richard asked. “Do you want me to pull out?”

“Stay.”

Unbidden, Lilian’s inner muscles tightened around Richard, embracing him, pushing him against his gland. Lilian’s slick insides undulated, sliding over Richard, seeking friction. His jaw went slack; his eyes zeroed in on Richard’s. Lost in that emerald gaze, Lilian gave a slow contraction. His insides lined up with Richard’s finger, every nerve ending pleasured by the combination of touch and faerie oil.

Lilian’s cock jolted again, and the fierce lurch dislodged the towel. It slid off his erection, exposing him.

“Lilian…”

That brought him back to the present. Blushing furiously, he lowered his eyes. His cock strained toward his stomach, the tip flushed pink and wet with precum.

No coming back from this. Richard had seen. What was he thinking? Was he disappointed that Lilian couldn’t control himself? Was he disgusted?

Lilian’s hole had a mind of its own and squeezed Richard. Fuck.

A contraction boomed through him. The spot where Richard lay against his innermost being seized in ecstasy. A soft moan rolled off his tongue faster than he could swallow it.

“Lilian,” Richard said, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Where he’d rolled up his sleeve, the muscles of his lower arms shook with his effort to keep still, making his fingertip vibrate against Lilian’s core. “You might come if I don’t pull out.”

Lilian’s hole rapturously constricted. It felt incredible. Lilian covered his face with his hand, the heat in his cheeks brushing his fingertips. Why was he putting Richard through this? “I’m so sorry. I…” His insides clamped down on Richard, pulling a filthy, low sound from him. He fisted the sheets.

“You still want me to stay?” Richard asked, his voice gentler than ever.

Confusion settled over Lilian. His gland tingled with need.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Richard said. “I won’t abandon you. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

Traitorous hope sparked in Lilian. Richard was a good person. The best person Lilian knew.

“I won’t think less of you for what you need.”

Lilian pushed his hand into his hair. He didn’t dare look at Richard. “It’s been months since I’ve come.”

“Take what you need from me. It’s all right. I’m here to help you heal, and I’d do anything for you. Anything. Just say the word, and I’ll give you what you ask for.”

Lilian’s cock thickened, growing impossibly harder. “So good.”

“Look at me,” Richard coaxed, and Lilian couldn’t help obeying. He lifted his eyes to Richard’s green gaze. “Needing to come is normal. You’re reclaiming your sexuality. If you want to come, that’s a good sign. You have my permission to use me for your healing. If this makes you feel good, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Lilian clenched. “Fuck.”

“You want me to talk you through it?”

“Please.”

Richard’s finger lying on his prostate made thinking straight impossible, but if his velvety voice guided him, Lilian wouldn’t lose himself.

“I’m honored that you trust me enough to walk this path with you,” Richard said. “I want to be there for you. You’re hot and tight around my finger, and there’s so much tension inside you that needs to be released. I feel the smallest move of your inner muscles.”

Lava flushed Lilian. Richard almost sounded like he derived pleasure from this. That was impossible, but Lilian was thankful for the illusion. His insides tensed and relaxed.

“Your prostate is sensitive, isn’t it?” Richard asked.

“So much.”

“I’m going to be gentle with it. I won’t stroke and pound it. Not unless you ask me to. I’m just going to stay right where I am, granting you the smallest bit of pressure. Your inner walls keep clutching me. I bet that little touch will be enough to make you come. Just my fingertip on your prostate. You decide if and when it’s going to happen. Until then, I’m going to stay here, allowing your body to take what you need.” Richard paused. “Do you want to come?”

“Y-Yes.” Lilian had to be bright red.

“There’s no shame in it. Remember that I offered. It’s been a long time since you’ve climaxed, but you know how good it feels. Your insides are fluttering against me, telling me you want to feel like that again. You’re tightening. Getting closer. Jumping off the cliff is scary, but your body will reward you if you do.”

Lilian’s hole contracted. “Richard.” The coiling lust in his core mounted. He had someone inside of him, someone he wanted there, touching his most special place. It brought waves of lust onto him. They built and crested, making him constrict. That wonderful finger pad was kissing his love spot, and Lilian didn’t know up from down.

“You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you. Nobody is going to hurt you. You can let go whenever you feel like it. All I want is for you to feel good.”

Lilian’s heart pounded. His cock throbbed and ached. He was tempted to wrap a hand around his erection and bring himself to climax with quick pumps but decided against it. Seeing that might prove too much for Richard. Lilian could come through his prostate alone, letting the pressure on his insides escalate until they couldn’t help themselves but erupt into furious convulsions.

Richard’s careful touch was getting him there frighteningly fast. Lilian peered up at him. Richard’s pupils were blown, and then his pink, wet tongue darted out, licking his lips.

Lilian exploded. “Richard!” His prostate seized under Richard’s touch. “Yes!” A flurry of convulsions possessed his hole, making him clench and unclench. High-pitched, happy shouts poured out of him, giving voice to his pleasure as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his torso, drenching him with his seed.

Coming was the most beautiful sensation. He moaned through his orgasm, dizzying joy rushing through him. Only when his climax ebbed away did Richard pull out. He cleaned Lilian with the towel, the soft fabric soaking up his release. When he was done, he pulled Lilian into his arms and held him, stroking his back.

Lilian nestled against him, basking in his scent, in his warmth. It took a while until what he’d done hit him. He went rigid in Richard’s embrace. For a moment, he stopped breathing.

“Lilian?” Richard’s voice was full of concern.

It made him feel even worse. He pulled back, too ashamed to face Richard, but he forced himself. “I’m sorry I sprang this on you. I don’t know what I was thinking. You must—”

“Shh.” Richard cupped the back of his head. “It’s fine. Please don’t feel bad about what happened. You needed release, and I was happy to provide it. It doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

Hadn’t it changed something? The edge of disappointment scraped over Lilian’s heart. “Nothing has changed?” he asked, not sure which answer he was hoping for.

“No. If you want me to, I’ll hold, comfort, and protect you the way I always have. I promise I won’t make it sexual. This is your safe space. You’re one hundred percent safe with me. Just because this happened once doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. I don’t. It can be a one-time thing. If you want it to happen again, I’ll be there, but I have no expectations. As I said, you can take things day by day.”

Lilian’s vision swam. “I don’t deserve you.”

Richard kissed his brow and hugged him. “Yes, you do. You deserve every good thing this world can give you and more.”

Lilian snuggled against him. Safe in Richard’s embrace, fatigue claimed him, sending him to sleep.

True to his word, Richard kept their relationship as comfortable as it’d always been. He treated Lilian with the same kindness and respect and was a perfect gentleman when he applied the faerie oil, his touch never lingering or straying to Lilian’s prostate. Not that Lilian would’ve minded. Having come by Richard’s hand once, he yearned for a repeat. Richard’s constant touch grounded and aroused him, turning him as soft as butter in the sun.

Lilian’s inner injury was healing well, the soreness taking longer to return after each treatment. While Lilian was glad to be getting rid of the pain, it would also mean the end of Richard touching him intimately, burying his finger deep inside him to spread the stimulating oil. Soon, Lilian wouldn’t need it anymore. That was a good thing, he reminded himself.

His time with Richard was limited either way. Richard was going to marry a princess. Lilian would have to leave Somerdale Castle and return to the Spring Court. Resuming his old life wouldn’t be easy. Sure, he had his hollow tree where he would create pretty dishes and vases, but there was no one to hold and look after him. He’d barely felt safe there before the orcs abducted him. Now, the absence of a door he could lock made him twice as nervous. He could have one made by a carpenter in Verdell, but it’d be costly. Even with a door, it’d be easy to break into his tree and take him. An ax was enough. Moving into a house in Verdell was too expensive. Lilian could sleep on someone’s floor, but that wasn’t exactly safe either. Perhaps Richard would allow Lilian to stay in Somerdale Castle after his marriage, but the princess wouldn’t like that if she found out what had happened between them.

A few days after Lilian had unraveled on Richard’s finger, James of Castlehill came to visit. It was a sunny spring day, and Richard welcomed him on the terrace behind the main building. In the shade of blooming apple trees, the servants set up elegantly carved tables and matching chairs.

James—a slender man with blond hair and icy, calculating blue eyes—arrived in the company of Raziel, an elf knight. Lilian was in awe of him. He hadn’t seen many elves, and this one packed muscle and was armed to the teeth. Raziel stood close to James, and his gaze flitted over shrubs and trees, taking in every detail as if he expected someone to jump out of the greenery and attack. Richard had mentioned that an elf had been charged with James’s protection, and Raziel was taking his duty very seriously.

James, on the other hand, frightened Lilian. His cool exterior matched his character, and Lilian clung to Richard. James wasn’t a bad person; otherwise, Richard wouldn’t have invited him, but his intelligent eyes locked on Lilian as if he could see right into his soul. A shiver raced down his back, his fingers curling tightly in Richard’s velvet clothing. Richard slung an arm across his shoulders, and it felt like a shield.

When they sat down on the garden chairs, Lilian took his place on Richard’s lap. James and Raziel threw him curious glances but didn’t comment. Richard didn’t care if Lilian snuggled up to him in front of others. How did he deserve such a wonderful man? He dropped his head onto Richard’s shoulder, and a sense of calm washed over him. Richard’s scent pacified him like nothing else. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, proprietary and protective.

Richard and James discussed movements on the front and what they could do to get Nathan back. Raziel, who revealed extensive military knowledge, contributed to the discussion with his expertise, suggesting troop placements and allocating human knights instead of autumn fae to certain operations.

Lilian understood nothing of military maneuvers. His mind wandered, and with Richard’s hands on him, his thoughts strayed to the night he’d made him come, to the way for the first time in months, Lilian’s insides had rejoiced in release, spurts of seed erupting from his cock. Richard did that to him.

Lilian’s cock rose in his trousers, painfully straining against the unforgiving resistance of the fabric. His balls filled and grew tight until they ached. He hadn’t come since that night.

Lilian tried and failed to distract himself with the conversation at the table. He couldn’t follow, and his thoughts returned to the gutter. At the same time, the soreness inside of him intensified. Richard had applied faerie oil in the morning, but some days its effects didn’t last as long as others. While Lilian’s healing process was going well, there were bad days, and this was one of them.

Well, taking care of his discomfort would have to wait. He could hardly disrupt Richard’s meeting.

The attendants brought servings of fruit flan, and Lilian eyed the cake topped with berries and pieces of exotic fruit he’d never seen. Perhaps he should eat something to distract himself. But the more he thought about it, the less appetite he had. At the moment, hunger wasn’t his greatest need.

The smarting in his hole worsened. Was the discomfort connected to his mounting arousal? His throbbing cock and aching hole made thinking straight impossible. Lilian fidgeted, pinching his lips. He’d get through this meeting. As soon as James and Raziel left, he’d ask Richard to take care of him. Just a little longer.

The meeting dragged on, and the pressure in Lilian built. He couldn’t take it much longer. Clenching his teeth, he soldiered through another quarter-hour, but eventually, it became too much.

He needed the faerie oil, and he needed it now. Maybe more than faerie oil. Should he excuse himself and apply it himself? But how? The sting sat deep, and it’d be hard for him to reach the place where he needed the oil. Richard had to do it. Besides, the prospect of being separated from him, even for a few minutes, was so daunting that he trembled at the thought.

Defeated, Lilian, with his cheeks on fire, leaned in and whispered in Richard’s ear. He confessed that he needed faerie oil, expressing how sorry he was to interrupt the meeting. Lilian prayed the others didn’t hear what he was saying.

“Of course,” Richard said quietly.

He told James that he had something to attend to and excused himself and Lilian, leaving their guests on the terrace. Lilian couldn’t bear looking at them and shuffled inside.

“I’m sorry,” Lilian said as they took the stairs to their chambers, Richard’s hand a comforting weight on the small of his back.

“Don’t be. Your needs take precedence. James can wait. It’s not like he’s always on time or never left me waiting. He’s got cake and company; I’m sure he won’t die of boredom if I leave him to it for a bit.” Richard circled his thumb at the small of Lilian’s back. “Are you in pain?”

As if on cue, a twinge stabbed Lilian, and he hissed. “Yes.”

“I’ll take care of it.”