Page 62 of The Wrath of Ashes
Rath sighed and put his quill down as the door to his office swung open. He glanced over and Pryd slipped in, his face a mask of confusion.
“What’s troubling you?”
“Kensing has gone home. I’m taking a break from having a bedservant for a time, but that’s not what I’m here for.” Lapryda pulled up a chair and sat opposite of Nadi, taking a quill and parchment.
“You allowed yourself to get attached.” Rath sniffed, unimpressed, but understanding. Kensing was a good match for Pryd’s impulsive manners.
“Perhaps, but that’s not important.” Pryd scratched out what looked to be two names, watching the ink dry with a somber expression.
“What is that?” Rath leaned over and spied two names. Naxima of the House Sauria and Bessam of House Hyfell.
Pryd pushed the paper toward Rath. “Their death certificates need to be registered.”
A pit of sorrow curled in Rath’s belly. Naxima had been a great uncle of his he’d known well, gone to the catacombs only a few years ago. Bessam had been a prince at one time of another kingdom, before Ressimir and Lyope had merged into one kingdom, Sauria. He’d been a great warrior. “I’ll ready a memorial for them.”
Pryd nodded sagely but didn’t move, his somber expression lost, as if waiting for Rath to gather some information from the names. He reached for the paper and hesitated. “This isn’t when we usually check…”
“It is not.” Pryd nodded once, and a sudden dawning realization struck Rath.
“Asha…” He stood so fast his chair tumbled, scales prickling on his arms and neck. There was no way he could contain himself as he bolted through the door toward his wing of the castle.
“He’s in the baths, Brother!” Pryd’s somber voice registered with Rath just in time for him to scramble over flagstones and slip, clamoring to his feet once more.
There was nothing that could keep him from his mate at that moment, so he ran. He ran until maidservants shouted in surprise at his passing and jumped at the slamming of doors. “Asha!”
“Oh, someone got the message.” A titter of laughter rang out from somewhere and whispers followed him until he made it to their chambers and into the baths.
Jeron sat at the edge of the bath, feet soaking in the water, while Asha sat slumped in place, relaxing with a placid expression.
“It’s been confirmed, then?” Rath stared at Asha as he gave a sheepish nod, lips twisted in a half grin. He had a hand rested over his abdomen, as if he had trouble envisioning it himself.
Rath stripped his fineries and clothes, tossing the pile onto a rack by the pool, eager to slide in by his mate. Jeron, for his part, didn’t move, only continued his light brushing of Asha’s beautiful hair. “Don’t rough him up too much, my lord. He is, indeed, delicate. Slath had Master Graylan confirm.”
Rath wouldn’t be gainsaid, though. He waded through the waters and snatched Asha into his arms to hold him tight. “How do you feel, my mate? Must I feed you or touch you in pleasing ways? May I fawn over you or—”
Rath choked as Asha grabbed his horns and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Jeron quieted and slid his feet free before standing. “I’ll excuse myself and bring some repast.”
“Jeron is getting cake since I missed dessert at the garden party.” Asha wrapped his legs around Rath’s hips and nuzzled into his neck, nipping at the flesh of his neck.
“I take it you’re hungry for more than dessert?” Rath chuckled, but he wanted to talk, to discuss the names, to come, to see what Asha wanted—but obviously that would wait.
Asha waded and pushed at Rath’s chest until he seated on the pool’s inner ledge, lap barely submerged in water as Ashaclimbed into his lap, knees straddling either side of Rath’s toned thighs. “I don’t know. I crave touch, sweet things, comfort. I’ve been anxious for a few days, I suppose.”
Rath could attest to that. Asha had been particularly voracious, his appetite in bed surpassing even that of Rath’s. A lifetime of repressed sexuality hadn’t done any good for Asha—but it certainly provided Rath with a challenge.
Asha lifted his hips and reached between them, frustrated for the mere moment it took to stroke Rath to full hardness.
“Asha, please. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Rath hummed with pleasure and hissed between his teeth as Asha guided Rath’s stiffening cock to his entrance. He’d gotten good at taking Rath with ease, sheathing him in his searing heat.
“A little pain is nice. It hurts worse to wait, sometimes.” Asha exhaled a shaking breath, sinking down onto Rath with absolute pleasure. There, he waited only a moment before rolling his hips and working himself into a gratuitous pace, his bottom splashing in the water as he came down on Rath’s lap.
Nothing intimate lay in the action, no love or closeness, just desire, lust, and the heated need for something Asha couldn’t probably define. Rath knew, though.
Asha hadn’t been raised as a dragon or educated in the bond, so his need for orgasm, craving for pleasure and carnal desire didn’t tell him what it told Rath.He needs us.The strong sensation he’d feel upon peak of orgasm would echo between them and fill an emptiness in their bond. What would also fill it, though? Rath wrapped his arms around Asha’s chest and clawed at the markings on his back to draw forth his wings. “My—my love.” Rath choked the words out and swallowed a moan in his throat with a creak.
“I won’t be long. Please.” Asha yelped as Rath adjusted his hips, clawing again until Asha flared his wings free from his back with a sharp spray of water when they flicked the surface.
“You won’t, but you need something else.” Rath shook his head to loosen Asha’s grip and growled. The noise halted Asha mid-pump of his hips. “This isn’t how you quell this feeling.”
