Page 59 of The Last of the Dark Lords

Which was why I was trying on the heaviest set of robes I'd ever had the pleasure to put on my body. Jelenna was having trouble holding them up even as she helped me into them. Iron and goldwere threaded throughout the fabric. It was a work of art, but it was a burden to wear.

Jelenna had proved her loyalty by returning with me to Ashfuror. By the end of the Battle of Greatfalls, she had come to question everything she had previously believed. Could I blame her for abandoning me after what I myself had done to Cyrus? The power of misguided belief is strong.

"If you fall over, I'm pretty sure that's considered an insult." Jelenna’s teasing pushed me out of my ruminations.

"Who's gonna punish me? I'm already Lord of Ashfuror."

"I don't think it will be good for the Dark Lord to take a header on the day of his coronation." Jelenna poked me. "Ow, this stuff is hard."

"It is. Now get it off me."

I had a few hours before the festivities began, and I wasn't going to spend it encased in metal.

"I'll go make sure everything else is set." Jelenna started toward the door of the chamber.

"Manod's got it under control. He's been obsessing about today for weeks. Maybe for years."

She shrugged, giving me a sly wink. Something was up.

I laid down on the long upholstered bench in the chamber. Hopefully, no one would disturb me. I needed the sleep. It had been a whirlwind two months, and the exhaustion had settled deep in my bones.

"Aren't you supposed to be meditating on the value of marriage to a community or some shit?"

Cyrus popped out from behind a changing screen that had been erected in the corner of the room. He was still in his underclothes.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere getting ready?” I asked with faux annoyance. “Somewhere not here?"

He bounded across the room, sliding into my arms, and I wrapped myself around him. This would never get old, this feeling of totally belonging to someone. It had been so foreign to me, this kind of love.

"We have a few hours." He kissed me, hard, his hungry mouth trying to devour me. I savored it for a moment, then pushed him back.

"What do you think we're going to do with only a couple of hours?"

Cyrus reached over to a nearby end table, opening the drawer and pulling out a bottle of oil.

"I could fuck you."

I shivered at his words. I had only bottomed a few times. It had been a wonderful and intense experience, once I’d gotten used to it.

I grabbed hold of the neck of his shirt and pulled his face close, until our noses were almost touching.

"Then you’d better do it fast."

With that, he was on me, pulling at my shirt, tugging at the button of my trousers.

"Careful!” I yelped. “I'm wearing these to our wedding."

He pulled on the pant legs, and my hard cock sprang out, now unimpeded by fabric. "You have other pants." I felt the cold air on my exposed ass.

We had had many tender, romantic moments in the last months, but that’s not what this was. This moment was all about fast, hard, animal passion. He needed me and I needed himinme.

He shoved my knees back, and I heard myself let out a whimper. I loved when he took charge.

Without warning, he attacked my hole with his mouth, licking and sucking, and I began to shake. It was always so much, and I craved it.

"Ngh..." I writhed as he dug in farther, his teasing wet tongue moving in and out of me. "I need you. Please..."

"I love to hear you beg."

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