Page 19 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)
Lazaar
Lazaar could’ve fit ten more people in the massive tub he was bathing in.
The room was a combination of luxury and grandeur he never knew could exist. Since he was a dark lord, he assumed all the light surrounding him would bother his senses, but instead, it soothed the built-up nervousness in his body from days of hiding from his beloved.
Lazaar didn’t care that he wasn’t alone in the berry-scented water.
Two attendants were with him, washing him in cracks and crevices that should’ve made him cringe in embarrassment, but it all felt too good.
Several of Zepharali’s daughters were preparing garments and placing grooming tools on a vanity while others sat around the edge of the tub caring for his hands and hair.
A pretty lady with a prosthetic arm and wavy blonde hair they called Elephaa told hilarious stories of their father’s long life that made him laugh so hard his ribs hurt. They also told tales of the many failed attempts at love that brought tears to his eyes.
“How, why?” Lazaar frowned. “He’s beautiful and kind, and I can feel so much love in his core that I fear I won’t be worthy of it.”
The women stilled and smiled at each other, seeming to appear relieved.
An attendant came over with a tray of assorted fruits and cheeses. Lazaar tried to decline, but she ignored him and placed the juiciest piece of something on his tongue. His eyes widened with delight.
He’d never tasted anything more delectable.
“I’m pleased you like them, my prince. They’re sun pears. I grow them myself.” She gave a respectful curtsey, then left a small amount in a dish on the edge of the tub.
He took another as Elephaa continued her story.
“My father’s winds bring intense sparks of passion and desire when he takes an interest in any species, male or female.”
Lazaar nodded.
“When he touches them, lays with them, they can easily absorb traces of his wind that originate from his heart.”
Lazaar’s soul ached for his beloved.
“When with him, they’re happy and overwhelmed with the feelings of new love.” Elephaa sighed. “But when they leave his presence, they realize how irresistible they’ve become to others.”
“They cheat on him with the first damn suitor that approaches and promises them the world. And our father is not the sharing type,” another daughter standing guard at the door said through clenched teeth. “And he shouldn’t have to be.”
“Aspistes, please,” Elephaa whispered, trying to calm her sister. “I can explain if you—”
“Even our own mothers, the damn harlots. Left us and him for whatever random noblemen promised them titles and riches.” She scowled. “They should be in brothels, not living as queens and ladies of realms.”
“You know Father holds no ill will for any of his lost lovers or our mothers. He always says he’s blessed to have us as a result of that attempted love.”
Lazaar had heard enough. His beloved’s daughters were getting upset, and he wanted them at ease and for them to know their father would never hurt or wish for love again because he had it now.
“I swear to each of you, in all the names of the gods, that the adoration and affection I already feel for your father are real and will never fade but only get stronger.” Lazaar blushed all over. “And he’s yet to lay with me.”
Elephaa reached down and grabbed him around his neck with her strong arm, hugging him so tight she damn near yanked him out of the tub.
“Praise the gods!” she hollered.
Lazaar continued to flush red clear down to his groin when he thought of being with another man—anyone—in that way.
Elephaa blinked her long blonde lashes. “I hear you are untouched and inexperienced in the ways of lovemaking.”
Lazaar wanted to melt into the bottom of the tub when every woman in the room turned to him with disbelief in their eyes.
Honesty would be the best policy if he wanted some advice because these people knew his beloved best.
“I’m na?ve about everything, my lady. I’ve just discovered that there is a whole world outside of Chessuven. I was hidden there for almost one thousand years.”
“Gods,” she whispered. “Do not fret, prince. We can help you.”
Dorema, Zepharali’s eldest and a striking female with long braids, came forward with her hands clasped.
“We can show you ways to pleasure if you’d like?”
Once Lazaar was able to push down his humiliation, he murmured a soft, “Yes, please.”
He was willing to take the embarrassment of being taught to make love by his beloved’s daughters because he’d do anything for Zepharali.
He already adored him that much.
Dorema laid her pretty wife down on the plush beige rug and oh so gently climbed on top of her, gazing into her eyes, their love so very evident in each caress.
Oh gods.
Lazaar’s cock became rock-hard when he thought of writhing his body like that on top of his beloved.
He sank low in the tub until he was only peeking over the edge.