Page 128 of A Crown of Lies

Aryn was incapable of speech. He let out another feral growl and closed his fist tightly around Niro, stealing another kiss. He gave Niro’s cock a rough stroke that left Niro shuddering and melting against him.

“Yes,” Niro whispered, nuzzling against Aryn’s jaw. “Like that. More.” His head fell forward so that he could watch Aryn’s fist sliding roughly up and down the length of his cock. He didn’t thrust or move other than his panting breaths. Just leaned heavily into Aryn and directed him with his soft, sultry voice. “Oh, yes. Gods above, yes. Your hand feels so good, little bird. Grip me a little tighter.” He hissed through his teeth when Aryn did as he instructed. “Ah, like that! Oh…”

Whatever he was going to say came out as a muffled grunt when Aryn latched onto his earlobe with his teeth. Niro made a stuttering sound deep in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing. Aryn moved his teeth there, scraping against the sensitive skin while pumping Niro’s cock.

Niro let out a little whine when his hand paused near the tip, only to gasp again as Aryn ran his thumb over the slit there, spreading the fresh wetness. He must’ve been close. Aryn could feel Niro’s cock pulsing in his grasp, straining for contact where he wanted it. Aryn’s hand started moving again, and Niro’s panting became faster, more desperate.

Long, delicate fingers curled around Aryn’s bicep in a death grip. “Fuck… Little bird… I…” Niro panted, his voice thick with pleasure.

A moment later, his cock throbbed in Aryn’s hand and began to pulse. Thick ribbons of white spilled over Aryn’s fist. Aryn squeezed, giving Niro plenty of pressure to guide him through it, and held him until he was a quaking, shivering mess. He kissed Niro’s temple, and they sank to the floor of the gallery together, Niro’s head resting sleepily on his chest.

“Look at what you’ve done to me, little bird.” Niro groaned, closed his eyes and turned his head, inhaling Aryn’s scent. “I meant for us to make it out of the gallery, at least.”

Aryn chuckled and drew his hand gently through the tangled mess of Niro’s hair, planting a kiss on top of his head. “I guess it’s a good thing you gave the help the day off, isn’t it?”

His reply was an incoherent mumble.

Aryn smiled and smoothed out some more of Niro’s hair before asking, “Is there somewhere else we could go? This seems rather… public.”

Niro sighed and sat up, wriggling enough to pull his pants up. His face was still flushed and his eyes heavy, but he was starting to come out of it a little. He offered Aryn a sly grin. “I imagine the ladies have already found their way to my wife’s room. Saya is almost as insistent as I am when she wants something. Provided, of course, your human was open to the idea.”

“I gathered she was,” Aryn said, doing his best to right his clothes. He frowned down at himself. Both he and Niro had left stains on his pants.

Niro hooked a finger around Aryn’s chin and brought him in for a kiss before standing and offering his hand. “Come, little bird. Let me take you to the bath and get you a change of clothes.”

Aryn took his hand and Niro pulled him to his feet, and into yet another kiss. “Are you all right?” Aryn asked once they parted.

Niro’s smile was practically radiant. “I’m wonderful,” he replied, and closed his hand tighter around Aryn’s, leading him away from the gallery.

Thirty-Eight

“I’msorryIranfrom you,” Mercia said as Saya led her from the dining room. She had agreed to a walk through the compound, but it seemed like something heavier, as if she had agreed to much more. Nerves had her fidgeting with her fingers as they strolled down the wooden walkway, shoulder to shoulder.

She gave Saya a nervous glance, heart fluttering. The elvish woman had such grace and poise that Mercia could scarcely believe she was real. Her features seemed carved of clay, but softer, more round. The decorative threads hanging from her hairpiece swished back and forth with each step.

“I didn’t mean for it to seem as if I was fleeing,” Mercia continued. “I wasn’t afraid. I just… didn’t know how to react. If we were seen, it would hurt your husband’s prospects, wouldn’t it?”

Saya flashed Mercia a warm, genuine smile that made more wings flutter in her stomach. “Maybe, but not in the way you’d think. It isn’t uncommon for elves to have lovers of the same sex as it is in your lands. Prior to being wed, such behavior is encouraged as a way to… lessen the chances of children being born out of wedlock. It is one of those things we don’t speak of, but everyone knows about. It’s accepted, so long as I do my duty and provide an heir for Niro.”

Mercia frowned. “It must be difficult to be in that position.”

Saya shrugged. “Less so with Niro than anyone else. He’s kind and understanding with me. We are best friends. Soul mates in a way, even if we aren’t sexually compatible.” She sighed. “Eventually, we’ll do as is expected of us, but elves live long lives. Everyone else may be in a hurry to secure lines of succession and see new buds on the family tree, but we are not. I want to live my life, Mercia, and pursue my passions. Niro deserves the chance to do the same.”

“And what are they?” Mercia asked. “Your passions? I know you like to cook. Is there something else?”

Saya slipped her hand in Mercia’s. “I’ll show you.” She tugged up the hem of her dress and they hastened their pace a little further down the wooden walkway before stepping out into the courtyard. The night air was brisk and the sky alight with a sea of stars. The pink petals of the cherry blossoms drifted in the air around them like snow as they passed beneath its boughs, navigating over a small footbridge.

On the other side of the courtyard, Saya pushed open two sliding doors, and they stepped into a darkened room. Though she couldn’t see, Mercia immediately recognized the aged vanilla scent of books and a little surge of joy shot through her.

Saya extended her hand and a small white globe of magic appeared in her palm. She blew on it and the globe floated forward before exploding and shooting out in all directions to light several small lanterns on the wall.

“That was beautiful,” Mercia said.

Saya smiled, showing her dimples. “Thank you. I’m not a particularly skilled mage, at least in the battle arts, as grandmother would have wanted. But I do have my talents. Come.” She pulled Mercia further into the room, which seemed to be an office.

There was a large desk in the center of the room, one of Saya’s globe lights hovering over it. Bookshelves lined one wall, but the books were somewhat sparse, thick leather binders taking up most of the space. There were more binders on the desk, along with several inkwells and colored paints.

Saya let Mercia go to pluck one of the binders from the shelf. She pressed it to her chest before walking back and carefully holding it out. “This is where I use most of my talents as a mage.”

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