Page 14 of The Second Marriage

The music started up again. Sejun took advantage of the atmosphere of collective drunkenness to keep Taral to himself, engaged in an elaborate partner dance with lots of turning and close stepping. Taral’s scent rose from the neckline of his robe, heady and ripe with sweat. Their movements slowed as the music went on until they were pressed close and turning slowly with their gazes locked. Taral’s interest seeped through the bond, and although Sejun could feel him struggling with himself, resisting his own desire, he didn’t move away.

“Come upstairs with me,” Sejun said in a low voice. “No one will mind.”

One corner of Taral’s mouth tugged upward. “No one will notice, you mean.”

“That too,” Sejun said. He held Taral’s hand in his. After a moment, Taral nodded.

The dim silence of their room was striking after the noise and laughter of the courtyard. Taral opened the shutters and lit a few more candles. Sejun did nothing useful but instead sat on the bed and opened both his robes to palm his half-hard cock. Dancing with Taral had stirred him, but almost anything stirred him; his blood ran hot, or else it was his youth, as Batsal had said more than once despite being only four years older.

Taral turned to look at him, his eyes dipping to the open collar of Sejun’s robe, then lower, to the slow movement of Sejun’s hand as he stroked himself to full arousal.

“You have no shame at all,” Taral said.

“None,” Sejun confirmed. He could tell that Taral wasn’t displeased. He slid his hand to the base of his cock and offered it forward, like an obscene Tihasai etching he’d seen once. “Come here, then, if you’re going to stare like that, and use that pretty mouth on me.”

Embarrassment permeated Taral’s sweet mixture of amusement and desire. “You’ll have to be patient with me, as I don’t know how.”

Sejun straightened from his languid slouch. “What?”

“Should I have been practicing on root vegetables? I didn’t know expertise would be expected of me.”

“Have you never—do you not like it? I know some people don’t. That’s fine, I don’t expect—”

“Sejun,” Taral said sharply, cutting him off. “Do you think we’re so lax here in Tadasho that I’ve been availing myself of—of random men?”

“But you can’t mean you were a virgin,” Sejun blurted.

Taral folded his arms across his chest. “Why would I have been otherwise? You must be the only man in any of the kingdoms who wouldn’t expect me to come to my marriage unspoiled.”

“But surely,” Sejun began, and then stopped. Taral wasn’t wrong. If he were ten years younger, Sejun would have assumed he was a virgin and been somewhat disappointed to learn otherwise. But at his age, to spend so many years without anyone in his bed, not even during his heats—that was hard to fathom.

Taral’s expression hardened even further. He radiated irritation. “Surely a man of my age should know these things—is that what you mean?”

“I’m only surprised that no one ever caught your fancy. You must have very high standards that none of the fine men of Tadasho were able to tempt you.”

The bond rippled with Taral’s emotions. He didn’t want to be amused, but he was. Even if he didn’t want to be married to Sejun, he could at least be made, sometimes, to laugh.

“I would have been more careful with you,” Sejun said quietly. “If I had known.”

Taral scoffed. “In heat? I needed no care at all.” He dropped his arms at last. “You’ve taken sufficient care with me.”

“Oh, high praise,” Sejun said, stung.

Taral came to him and set his hands on Sejun’s shoulders. Sejun looked up at him, at his expression now gentle with something Sejun would never dare to call fondness. “More than sufficient. I have no complaints at all. If your aunt were to interrogate me about you as she interrogated our servants about me, she would receive a glowing recommendation.”

“You heard about that, I take it.”

“Oh, extensively. But she was only doing her duty as matchmaker.” Taral cleared his throat and moved to step back, but Sejun grabbed at his belt and held him in place. “Sejun—”

“Let me show you, then, if you don’t know how.” Sejun’s cock had entirely wilted during their conversation, but it perked up again now at the prospect of teaching Taral what he had been missing. Taral was wary but not unwilling, and Sejun was sure he would enjoy it. He had been horribly neglectful not to have done this for Taral before.

Their position gave him convenient access. Seated on the low bed, he was at exactly the right height. He untied Taral’s belt and parted the panels of his robe, baring the narrow length of Taral’s body. His warm skin called out for Sejun’s touch, and Sejun slid his hands inside Taral’s inner robe and touched him everywhere he could reach, over Taral’s chest and thighs and paying special attention to the round, soft curves of his ass.

“That’s your favorite part, I take it,” Taral said, his fingertips balanced there on Sejun’s shoulders, his dark eyes fixed on Sejun’s face.

“I wouldn’t say that. I like all of your parts.” Sejun was, if anything, more of a cock man, but no crude remark would ever pass his lips again for fear of mortifying sweet, virginal Taral. How had he not known? Well, he had been distracted during Taral’s heat, to say the least, and then the deed was done.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to Taral’s hip, a wordless apology. It had turned out well enough, but hewouldhave taken more care if he had known.