Page 22 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)
Lazaar
Lazaar awoke feeling refreshed and better than he had in almost one thousand years. Except he thought he was about to catch on fire buried under the thick blanket.
He kicked the stifling covers off and turned for Zepharali to wrap him in his arms, but the other side of the massive bed was empty.
Lazaar jerked upright, scanning the vacant room.
It was his first time seeing it since he’d had a one-track mind the night before. All he’d been able to think about was quenching his unbearable thirst.
Zepharali’s bedchamber was a sight to behold in the bright sunlight. It fit his strong, romantic personality.
Mmm. Lazaar closed his eyes and allowed the suns’ many beams to heat his face.
The bed was carved from dark wood and inlaid with glimmering stones, and beside it on a small table was a golden goblet and a matching silver pitcher.
He poured himself a drink of water, sighing at the cool crispness flowing down his parched throat.
Lazaar didn’t know if the enchanting world made everything more wonderful than it should be or if it was his new ultra-heightened senses.
The heavy drapes were open with an underlayer of sheer silk billowing inwards with the warm, gentle breeze. Immaculate tapestries decorated the walls with scenes of Zepharali’s battles, slain beasts, and heroic conquests.
Lazaar didn’t think he could adore his titan any more than he did, but he was proven wrong with each passing moment. He licked his lips, remembering the miraculousness of his bite and how his beloved received it. Lazaar wanted… No, he was craving his beloved. The water had done nothing to satisfy his true thirst.
A second after the thought left his mind, a sweet, citrus-scented wind drifted in through the open skylights and circled him.
The breeze worked its way up his legs, past his thighs, and wrapped around his cock.
Lazaar groaned, his eyes widening in shock.
Ugh, gods.
The wind constricted and pumped his flesh just enough to bring him to the cusp of wanting to come before it eased up his abdomen to his chest.
“My beloved,” Lazaar whispered, writhing in need, “where are you?”
The wind stroked his nipples, making him arch for more, but it didn’t stay there long before it caressed his neck with warmth and love.
He didn’t know how he could feel emotion in the air. He just could.
“I need you,” Lazaar pleaded, trying to infuse his own passion into the wind rubbing his cheeks.
The tranquil air moved to his earlobe, making him chuckle a moment before he heard Zepharali’s soft voice.
“Morning greetings, my prince.”
Lazaar arched again, loving the sound of Zepharali’s voice.
“More.” He almost whined, wanting to wrap his hand around his dick and assist the wind.
He’d never done that kind of act before, and even though he was alone, he was too shy to do it now.
“What ho, your grace!”
Lazaar scurried for the duvet to cover his nakedness as Zepharali’s daughter, Elephaa, rushed in with several bath attendants on her heels.
He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn’t five shades of red.
“My lady, I, um…”
She waved him off with her one arm. He supposed she’d left her prosthetic off today.
“Father has asked I show you the main square today while he’s consumed with council business.”
So that’s where he is. I’ll just wait here, then.
Lazaar shook his head and pulled the covers higher on his chest.
“Thank you, lady Elephaa, but I would like to—”
“Stay in my father’s bed all day?” She pfft’d and yanked the covers off with a loud laugh. “That’s not happening. Up you go, Prince.”
Lazaar rolled his eyes, sitting up with a loud groan of annoyance.
“Do I have to?”
“Listen to the all-powerful tribrid whine,” Elephaa blurted, exploding with laughter.
She gaped at the attendants hiding obvious grins, their other arms laden with towels, wraps, and he assumed his attire for the day.
“Bathe him well and prepare him for a long trek under the blazing Scáthanna suns.”
They gave a slight bow and quickly wrapped Lazaar in a cloak before ushering him into the bath chamber.