by Jana Downs
Salvatore sucked in a breath, and his eyes widened. Destin watched him closely for signs of pain, but there was nothing but pleasure on the Demon Prince’s face. He pressed forward another inch.
“I’m not porcelain!” Salvatore snapped suddenly. “Fuck me.” The command went right to Destin’s dick, and it surged forward on its own accord before he could talk himself out of it. He moaned. Salvatore was tight. So damn tight.
“Gods, that’s it!” Salvatore’s hands crept up to knead Destin’s ass as he worked his length back and forth in sharp, shallow bursts designed to allow for deeper penetration. “Feels good.” The demon panted.
“It’ll feel better in just a second,” Destin promised, angling his hips, searching for the one spot that would send Salvatore soaring. The hands that were kneading his butt cheeks tightened and Salvatore whimpered as Destin scored the tip of his pleasure spot with his piercing.
“What the hell is that?” Salvatore groaned, his eyes wide with wonder. Destin just laughed at his awed expression and kept his hips moving so that with each thrust he was hitting it with his tip. Sweat ran down his spine in a steady stream from his restraint.
Salvatore was absolutely beautiful to watch in the throes of passion. With his long hair gone, every sharp feature of his face was carved in sharp relief. He seemed so much more expressive. The hold on Salvatore’s hips tightened as Destin started imagining them doing this over and over. All the positions they could try. All the ways they could pleasure one another. A true equal. At last.
“You’re going to come for me hard, aren’t you, Salvatore,” Destin declared as the pace and force of his thrusts increased. He felt the familiar tingling sensation at the base of his spine that signaled that he was approaching an orgasm. Salvatore gasped and nodded. His hand crept down to play with his cock as Destin reamed him. The dual sensations would have him going off in no time.
“Never knew it could be this good.” Salvatore grunted as he twisted the tip of his dick with one hand and tweaked his nipple piercings with the other.
“First. Best. Last. Oh definitely your last, dragon boy,” Destin promised. Salvatore whimpered at the possessive note in his voice. Even Destin didn’t know what possessed him to make the pledge. It was a claiming all right. But it went both ways.
“Your last, too, faery boy.” Salvatore growled. He was grinning through the pleasure, pure joy painted on his face.
Then there was no more room for talking as they both lost themselves in the quest to reach the ultimate peak together. Destin’s body was driving into Salvatore with enough force to rock the huge bed so that it banged against the wall with every desperate lunge. The Fae King knew that the piercing added another dimension to their lovemaking. It made an already incredible sensation more intense, and both their eyes were rolling because of it.
Salvatore’s head kicked back, and a sound of pure animal satisfaction left his throat as the hand on his length jerked hard, sticky ropes of pleasure erupting from the tip and splashing their torsos. The sight sent Destin falling over the edge. His toes curled as his balls tightened almost painfully for an instant before sending his cum boiling out of his cock into the spasming depths of Salvatore’s tight ass.
They collapsed together, Destin’s forehead pressed against Salvatore’s cheek. Being with Salvatore was always intense. Acknowledging their connection made it more so. He kissed the demon’s sweaty cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Salvatore stretched luxuriously and winced. “Damn. I’m going to be sore.”
“You’re already sore.” Destin forced himself to move to his side table and pulled out a small vial with sky-blue liquid inside. He then went to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth which he dipped in a basin of water before coming back out.
“Let me tend you,” Destin murmured quietly, tapping either side of Salvatore’s legs to get him to spread. Salvatore blushed. It was adorable. Destin couldn’t help but smile. “You’re blushing as if you’ve never tended a woman you’ve swived, silly.” Salvatore’s blush deepened.
“Well, I’ve never been on the receiving end of it,” he grumbled. Destin spread Salvatore’s cheeks and washed his opening and thighs of his seed. The Demon Prince stared at the ceiling and breathed deeply, every muscle completely relaxed. It gave Destin happiness to know that his lover trusted him so absolutely. After he’d finished those administrations, he took the vial and coated two of his fingers with it and pressed them against Salvatore’s opening. The demon jumped, and Destin murmured a soothing sound to calm him. Once he was relaxed again, he pressed those fingers inside him, scissoring them open to spread and coat Salvatore’s insides with the liquid.
“What is that?” the demon wondered, staring down the line of his body to watch Destin as he repeated the procedure a few more times. He shivered as the soreness in his body was relieved.
“A special healing serum that some of my physicians came up with years ago. There is a particular tree in Underhill which produces a sap that, when mixed with other ingredients, makes a pretty nice balm. It’s a godsend in situations like these,” Destin supplied, giving one last coat to Salvatore’s insides before wiping off his hands and corking the vial.
A comfortable silence stretched on for indeterminable minutes as Destin crawled back up beside Salvatore and laid his head against the Demon Prince’s chest. Destin toyed with Salvatore’s nipple piercings, lost in thought. He’d never expected to be here. Never expected to like or want someone quite as much as he did Salvatore. What he felt for his former lover paled in comparison to what he felt in the demon’s arms. His mother would say that they were a perfect match. Both royals. Both trapped in their sense of duty. Both dealing with people who had unique challenges. They were very well suited for one another.
“I want you so bad,” Salvatore admitted, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around the Fae King like he was afraid he’d disappear again. “I don’t just mean sexually, Destin.”
He knew. Lord and Lady, he knew. Salvatore was the most persistent, dogged, and stubborn male Destin had ever known. And he was perfect.
“Be mine then.”
Salvatore’s eyes blinked open, and Destin watched his features take on those of reluctant hope. “How?”
“Be my Consort, you stubborn, conceited demon.” He pressed a kiss to the pectoral muscle under his cheek before swirling his tongue around the hoop that pierced Salvatore’s nipple. “Be mine forever.” Salvatore let out a whoop of victory and dragged Destin up the length of his body to kiss him soundly on the lips.
“No more fighting us?” he asked in between long, drugging kisses.
“No more fighting us,” Destin pledged. He stroked his hands through Salvatore’s short hair. “Hmmm, I really like it cut this way.” The demon grinned against his mouth.
“I aim to please.”
Destin snorted. “You aim to be pleased, demon.” He paused. “Why didn’t you tell me about being a Demon Prince?”
“You wouldn’t even tell me your name.” Salvatore sniffed. “It was privileged information, and we weren’t even dating yet.”
Destin nodded. The reasons made sense. “Salvatore?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Salvatore smoothed his hand down his soft clothing and tried to quell the nervousness in his limbs. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He knew most of the fae adored him. It’d been almost six months since he’d arrived in Underhill by Salvatore’s estimations. Three of those glorious months had been spent loving Destiny with everything he was. Since it was their three-month anniversary tonight, the Fae King had arranged to present Salvatore formally to his Court as his King-Consort, though Salvatore knew most of them already. Since the Consort Contract required them to be intimate for a year, they were backdating it to the first time Destin had acknowledged his love for Salvatore. It was all quite romantic.
Two valets had come in moments before to dress him i
n formal attire for the event. Salvatore looked at himself in the full-length mirror and grinned. Faery formal attire looked a lot like his casual wear. Loose pants of deep-purple jewel tones, a matching purple vest with turquoise buttons, and soft, supple, brown leather shoes made up the entire ensemble. He hadn’t needed the valets, but they’d given him clothing options so he could choose. In his mind this was tremendously casual, but he supposed when someone lived in the Summer Courts, where clothing was optional year round, being even partially covered was a formal experience.
All of his outfits apparently matched what Destin was wearing, and that was all he really cared about. He was announcing that Salvatore was his official Consort tonight, one step below spouse in Underhill, and it was only appropriate that they matched. It had been the same in Demontia when Salvatore had still had a Court there.
“My lord, we’d forgotten to give you the last piece for your attire.” One of the valets, Lunah, popped back into the room with a black velvet box that was about a foot wide and tall in a square shape. “It is a gift from His Majesty, and he wants you to wear it tonight.” Salvatore nodded and waved a hand of dismissal as he took the box from Lunah’s outstretched hands.
He smiled to himself and caressed the outside for another moment. His lover was so thoughtful. Destin spoiled him absolutely rotten. Everything he mentioned a desire for had somehow shown up in their now-shared room. Salvatore had actually had to start watching what he said so that he wouldn’t appear too greedy for the things that Destin gave him. Though Destin had explained that giving gifts was a faery way of showing deep affection and they tended to go overboard a lot of the time. Still, Salvatore didn’t want to take so much from Destin without being able to return the favor.
His finger pressed against the silver clasp that held the box closed and pulled open the lid. A smile spread across his face as he caressed the thin, platinum circlet therein. It was twined as the branches of a tree with a single garnet leaf hanging down that would fall against his forehead when he wore it. Destin had one similar to it except his leaf was a diamond. There was a note alongside the circlet, and he read it aloud lovingly.
“For my Demon Prince. May the branches of our lives be entwined always. May winter never fall in the summer of our hearts. I love you. Destin.” Salvatore’s smile widened. His lover was so beautifully romantic. Almost corny but it was always sincere. He sighed and placed the ring on his head. He was ready to go.
* * * *
The throne room at Underhill was more like a barely tamed glen than a Courtroom. In the heart of the palace the space opened up to the sky. A rough stone floor was laid down as a dais and surrounded a throne which was carved out of the living oak it encircled, a smaller throne sat to the right of that one, but it was carved from willow. Trees bloomed with flowers all year round, and sweet fragrances filled the air with the heady smell of summer. People lounged casually on stretches of perfect, green grass while others chased each other around the stone mounds and small waterfall that fell from nowhere to the left of the throne. It was a magick place.
Salvatore padded across the lawn of the throne room toward the dais, his eyes searching for his lover among the throng of people gathered. From what Destin had said earlier, the number was probably going to be greatly increased tonight because the rumor of Destin’s intent had reached every noble ear this side of the universe.
People called out to the Demon Prince in greeting. Some even shouted words of congratulations and encouragement despite the fact that they were all pretending to know nothing of the announcement.
“Mar,” Salvatore called as he saw the advisor circle around the stone mound with a lovely, tanned man on his arm. The advisor grinned at the sight of him.
“Greetings, my lord. You look ravishingly handsome this evening. The adornment at your brow is making more of an announcement than your Destiny ever could.” Mar bowed, and his companion did the same.
“I was looking for Destin. Do you know where he is?”
“He’s probably playing with the children under the waterfall. That’s usually where he is before Court starts.” Mar glanced at the heavens and the enchanted ceiling that was made invisible so that the fae could see the passage of time in the sky. “You’re about five minutes early, so that’s most likely where you’ll find him.”
Salvatore nodded his head in thanks and took off toward the waterfall and the pool beneath it. The sight that greeted him as he rounded the stones took his breath away.
Destin was in a splashing contest with several young boys, the oldest of which could be no more than seven. He was apparently losing because his head was dripping wet and his clothes stuck to his flesh like a second skin. Laughter had turned his features into those of a carefree youth, and his obvious love of children made Salvatore’s heart expand impossibly. This was what a King was supposed to do. This was how he was supposed to be with his people.
“Evil water sprites!” Destin accused, laughing. “You’ve all but drowned me!”
“No, my lord! No!” several of them cried, giggling at the dramatic way Destin slumped against a nearby rock.
“It is the end of me!” Destin wailed. “You’ve killed this poor old ogre.”
The six sprites surrounded him. “You’re not an old ogre, my lord!” one squeaked.
“Nope. Not even a little bit,” another agreed.
“You’re a big, scary dragon.” Another added his voice to the argument of what Destin was exactly.
“A dragon, you say?” Destin pondered the statement, his hands stroking his chin like he was a Saturday-morning cartoon villain. “I think not, my young ones. However,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I know where we could find one.”
“Where, my lord? Where?” they asked eagerly. Destin raised his hand and pointed toward the place where Salvatore stood.
“There, young ones! There is a dragon.” They all turned wide eyes in Salvatore’s direction.
“Are you sure that’s a dragon?” one whispered loudly to Destin. He seemed to be the leader of their little outfit.
“Oh indeed, young master. I am. He has enslaved your King and holds his heart. If only someone were here to free me.” The children took the hint.
“Charge!”
* * * *
Court had started much later than originally scheduled. According to Mar and Quis that was not unusual, and two slightly damp monarchs had stood before the people of Underhill to be received as an official couple for the first time. Court had erupted into loud cheers at the announcement, and Salvatore’s back was pounded by so many different fae that he was sure he wouldn’t remember anyone’s name in the morning.
“You did well, dragon boy,” Destin said, bumping shoulders with him as they walked back down the hall toward their bedroom. Salvatore raised an eyebrow at the shorter man and bumped him back.
“You, too, faery boy. Your Court is wonderful. Everyone is so comfortable and free with one another.” Salvatore sighed a little wistfully. “I want my Court to be like that. Father almost had it as tranquil before Desmond took over. Now I’ll have to go back to square one when I ascend the throne.”
“If you ascend the throne,” Destin remarked, opening the door for his lover with a wave of his hand.
Salvatore frowned. “What do you mean ‘if’? Of course I’ll ascend the throne. They’re my people. I can’t abandon them.”
Destin shot him an uneasy look. “Well, Underhill’s people are now your people, too. You have an obligation to them just as you do to those in Demontia.” He paused. “Besides, why would you want to go back? You have a whole new life here with me.”
“I gave an oath to protect the people of Demontia from without and within. I am happy in this new life, Destin.” He pulled the now-frowning King into his arms. “But it doesn’t mean I can forget about my old one. I still want to return to Earth to my Ravyns, and I still want to try and get my throne back from Desmond.” He’d explained all of this to Destin at least seventy-five times
. His evil cousin needed to be put down. Salvatore would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to free the people of his homeland. He pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips. “And I want you to be by my side the whole way, baby.”
Destin sighed and snuggled his face into Salvatore’s muscled chest. “I don’t want you to fight. I want you to stay here where you’re safe.” Salvatore’s arms tightened around him.
“Some things are worth the risk, my Destiny.”
“What if you fail? What if you die? I don’t know if I could stand losing you like that.” Destin chewed on his lip piercing as he had a habit of doing whenever he was worrying about something.
“When I return to Earth, I’ll try to bind two more men to me. The Ravyns made the suggestion before I came here and I didn’t have the power to do so. I just might have it now. That’ll be two more men added to the fight. Plus Alex and his vampires—”
“That’s only two more people to fight beside you,” Destin interrupted. “And the vampires that Alex has access to are a bunch of artists. Are you planning on distracting the hundreds of warriors Desmond has at his disposal with a couple of dancing vampires?”
Salvatore frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well,” he began, “Alex can fight. With a little training he’ll be great. I mean, he’s got the strength.”
“So you’re going up against all of Demontia with eight people to fight beside you? Do you have a death wish?” the Fae King wondered.
“I have to try, Destin. Gods, why can’t you be supportive?”
“How can I be supportive when you’re talking about committing suicide? It’ll be a noble, self-righteous suicide but a suicide nonetheless!”
Salvatore pushed the air out of his lungs through his teeth and turned away from the King. “If you have any other suggestions, I’d love to hear them because, personally, I’ve been doing this for two thousand years, and I’ve got nothing. We’re the strongest we’ve ever been. We’re finally in a place that can act as a strong base to launch our attacks from, and I don’t see how we have any other choice. We may not get another opportunity like this one.”
