"Do you want this?" Xulthas asked, his voice coming out far rougher than he had intended.
Usually, the commander was a man of action—ruthless, decisive, stepping past words straight to his desires. Yet he stood frozen beside the bed, unable to comprehend the sudden hesitation gripping his chest. Was he simply too drunk on the spiced wine? Or was he slowly losing himself to the terrifying tide of this lust?
Zaliyah raised his head, turning those dark rimmed eyes upon him. A sharp smirk curved his cherry-tinted lips. "Isn't it obvious?"
Xulthas stared down at him for so long that the silence grew heavy. Zaliyah shifted beneath the intense weight of his gaze, turning to glance back over his shoulder.
"Are you going to combust just standing there?" Zaliyah snapped, his tone laced with annoyance.
"I want to paint you," Xulthas said softly, "This moment... it's too beautiful." He reached down, his calloused palm caressing the soft curve of Zaliyah's flushed cheek. "You're too beautiful."
Zaliyah rolled his eyes, letting out a soft, breathy huff. You had four years to 'paint me' and you decided now is the right time to do it? Does excess wine turn even the fiercest warlocks into idiots?
"You don't know how much I am holding back right now..." Xulthas murmured, his gaze drifting downward from Zaliyah's eyes, trailing lower until it locked onto his own groin.
Zaliyah's eyes instinctively followed the commander's line of sight down to his trousers—and whatever composure he had been maintaining instantly fractured. His eyes widened in disbelief. The arrogant lift of his brow faltered, the scale of what he was dealing with registering fully in his mind.
Xulthas caught the exact moment Zaliyah's confidence wavered. A grin spread across his face. Shrugging his robe off his broad shoulders, he let the garment fall to the floor.
Reaching out, Xulthas gripped Zaliyah's hips with hands, pulling them upward and arching Zaliyah's back until Zaliyah's pale rear was presented perfectly beneath the soft light of lamps. Xulthas lowered himself onto his knees.
He pressed his face between those smooth, pale cheeks. Using his thumbs, he pulled the cleft apart gently, studying the small, tight entrance for a moment with the focused, deadly intensity of a master strategist planning a siege.
"What—" Zaliyah's voice climbed an octave, laced with sudden panic. "What are you doing?"
Xulthas offered no answer.
He leaned forward, pressing his tongue directly against the sensitive entrance. He licked the ring around Zaliyah's rear before sealing his lips around the tight folds and pushing inward.
The sound that escaped Zaliyah's throat was a broken, embarrassing gasp—something twisted between raw disgust and overwhelming pleasure. It was a sound he was furious at himself for producing.
Xulthas worked his tongue deeper, tasting the salt and the warm essence of the man beneath him. With every stroke, he felt Zaliyah's frame shudder.
The commander quickly locked into a slow, rhythm—a pace designed specifically to destroy any remaining shred of Zaliyah's attempt to stay composed.
Zaliyah's fingers dug fiercely into the silk sheets. His thighs trembled, his smooth skin breaking out in goosebumps. His spine curved involuntarily downward, his hips betraying him as he pressed backward against Xulthas's hot mouth.
When Xulthas's tongue struck a specific, deep angle within, Zaliyah's entire body spasmed.
"You feel it the most there?" Xulthas asked, pulling back just enough to speak, his hot, alcohol-laced breath fanning against the slick, sensitive skin.
Zaliyah said nothing. His knees were shaking so hard they could barely support his weight.
"Come on..." The grin was visibly audible in Xulthas's voice. "Abandon your purity just for today. Tell me, Zaliyah. Do you feel it the most right there?"
Still, silence. Zaliyah refused to utter a single word of confirmation, though the visible tremors running from his thighs all the way up his spine betrayed him.
Xulthas pulled his tongue back. Without a word of warning, he pressed two thick fingers against the wet entrance and drove them inside.
The intense surge of pleasure hit Zaliyah like a bolt of raw lightning. His arms gave out immediately; his elbows buckled, his chest dropping against the soft mattress while his rear remained elevated at an outrageously convenient angle.
Xulthas stared down at the sight, his eyes burning. "You sly Elf," he muttered, deeply amused.
"I was... overwhelmed," Zaliyah managed to choke out, his voice muffled by the silk pillows and his own heavy, ragged breathing.
"Sure you were."
Xulthas began to move his fingers. The quiet, wet friction filled the room, punctuated by Zaliyah's helpless vocalizations that grew louder despite every effort to bite his lip and suppress them. His sweet, breathless moans filled the bedchamber.
Xulthas worked him with patience—twisting, curling his fingers, learning the interior geography of Zaliyah's body like a general studying a map he intended to conquer.
When his knuckles grazed that hidden spot deep within, Zaliyah gasped as if he had been struck.
"I guess that's it," Xulthas murmured softly. He added a third finger.
"Mhh... commander...." Zaliyah's voice cracked apart, high and strained. "It won't... it won't fit"
"If it doesn't fit," Xulthas whispered pleasantly, his thumb massaging his outer skin, "how are you going to take all of me?"
Zaliyah had no answer. He was writhing now, his body torn between the overwhelming stretch and the unbearable, white-hot pleasure building beneath his skin. Long strands of ink-black hair plastered themselves against the damp skin of his neck.
Xulthas massaged his inner walls with precision and then struck that spot again—harder, deeper this time.
The wave that broke over Zaliyah was catastrophic.
He whimpered, his toes curling tightly into the sheets, his violet eyes rolling back as orgasm crashed through him like a cresting tidal wave. Hot seed flooded the white silk beneath him. His entire frame shook through the aftershocks, his chest heaving as he fought for air.
Xulthas withdrew his fingers slowly. He brought them up to his own lips, tasting the glistening fluid from each one with a satisfied glint in his eye.
Zaliyah had not even caught his breath when the splitting pressure arrived.
It came from behind, A brutal fullness so overwhelming it bordered on pure violence. Zaliyah's eyes dragged themselves open, his head tilting down as he looked back between his legs to see what was pressing into him: twelve inches of thick, vein-ridged heat, slowly forcing its way inward.
The stretch was extraordinary. The fullness was obliterating. His mouth fell open, but no sound could escape his locked throat.
Xulthas grabbed him by the hip and flipped him over.
With one broad arm, he rolled Zaliyah onto his back, settling himself between those pale, trembling thighs. He brought his face down close, "I want to see your face," Xulthas rasped, his voice deep "while I fuck you until you lose your mind."
"I... It... It—" Zaliyah's voice was barely a whisper, his chest fluttering. "It won't fit... my insides are burning..."
Xulthas reached out, his hand gently wrapping around Zaliyah's jaw, turning his head downward to force him to look down at their joined bodies.
"Look how well you're swallowing me," Xulthas growled softly. He spread his free hand across the soft, pale skin at the base of Zaliyah's stomach, pressing down slightly so Zaliyah could feel the thick outline of Xulthas's shaft buried deep inside his lower abdomen.
Zaliyah made a high, desperate sound in the back of his throat.
"Look how greedy this little hole is," Xulthas taunted, his hips twitching forward.
"Gobbling me up like there's no tomorrow."
Zaliyah choked out, "I... I can't breathe"
Xulthas didn't pull back. With one final drive, he buried the last inch of himself inside Zaliyah's heat.
The cry that tore from Zaliyah's throat would have alarmed anyone in the castle who didn't know the context. Xulthas held still for three seconds—just long enough to allow Zaliyah's body to stretch and adjust to his monstrous length—and then he began.
He set a brutal pace.
Each thrust drove impossibly deep, knocking the very breath from Zaliyah's lungs. The sound filling the grand chamber was intoxicating: the wet percussion of skin striking skin, the creaking of the bed, Zaliyah's desperate, muffled moans, and Xulthas's low groans rumbling from his chest.
"So tight," Xulthas muttered through his gritted teeth, his green eyes fixed on Zaliyah's wrecked face. "Ughn... you're so fucking tight."
"Sss-Slowly...." Zaliyah's hands scrambled blindly at Xulthas's broad shoulders, his nails digging into the hard muscle. "Slow... down..."
K
Xulthas thrust harder, bottoming out against his inner walls. "No."
"Xulthas... I can't."
"Of course you can."
Xulthas dropped his mouth to Zaliyah's bare chest, finding one of the sensitive pink peaks, and bit down hard. Zaliyah arched off the mattress with a scream. Xulthas sucked greedily at the flesh until it flushed swollen and bright red, holding him down as Zaliyah clawed at his back, making desperate sounds that echoed off the high ceiling.
Xulthas breathed heavily against his bruised skin. "You sound so lovely like this."
The overstimulation—the relentless, punishing thrusting combined with the painful pleasure of Xulthas's mouth on his chest pushed Zaliyah over the edge a second time. His second orgasm hit without warning, wrenching a moan from his lips as his internal walls clamped down tightly around Xulthas's length. He hated himself for how easily his body surrendered to pleasure.
Xulthas pulled back slightly, staring down at Zaliyah. The sight of Zaliyah's heaving chest, his parted crimson lips, and his glassy, unseeing eyes was the most exquisite thing Xulthas had ever laid eyes upon. He felt something strange within his chest—a foreign emotion he couldn't name.
Driven by a sudden surge of possessiveness, Xulthas flipped Zaliyah onto his stomach once more. He dragged Zaliyah's hips upward onto his knees, gathering a handful of that long, black hair into his fist and pulling back to force his spine into a deep arch. He trapped Zaliyah's waist with his other arm, keeping his lower body completely exposed and helpless beneath him.
From this new, deep angle, Xulthas slammed forward, burying himself deeper than he had reached all night.
The scream Zaliyah produced was louder than anything before.
"That's it," Xulthas growled savagely against the nape of his neck.
Another thrust. Another shattered scream.
He drove into Zaliyah with raw ferocity, the wet slap of their bodies echoing through the quiet room. Zaliyah's ink-black hair was wrapped around Xulthas's fist like a leather rein, the iron grip on his waist keeping him pinned exactly where the commander wanted him.
Zaliyah came for the third time, barely conscious that his body was releasing again. The overwhelming pleasure shattered his mind, causing his arms to buckle as he collapsed face-first into the sheets.
Xulthas didn't stop. Gathering Zaliyah up into his arms, he lifted him off the mattress.
Instinct took over; Zaliyah's slender legs wrapped tightly around Xulthas's waist, his weak arms clinging to the commander's shoulders for support. Xulthas suspended him in mid-air using only the strength of his legs and hips, thrusting upward into him.
Zaliyah's head fell backward, his hair cascading down toward the floor as the weight of gravity drove Xulthas deeper than ever before.
"Look at you," Xulthas strained out, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Taking all of me in the air. I knew you could." He pressed his hot mouth to the exposed underside of Zaliyah's throat, biting gently.
Zaliyah couldn't form words; his mind was a void of heat and sensation.
Carrying Zaliyah across the room without unclasping their bodies, Xulthas turned toward a wide chaise near the fireplace and sat down. He pulled Zaliyah against his broad chest, settling the smaller man into his lap.
For a brief, quiet moment, the scene appeared almost tender. The two of them sat catching their breath in the soft amber glow of the firelight, Zaliyah's damp face resting against the pulse of Xulthas's chest.
Is it... finally over? Zaliyah asked himself internally, his eyelids fluttering.
Then Xulthas's large hands settled back onto Zaliyah's hips. He looked up, his green eyes burning in the dim light.
"Move your hips," Xulthas commanded.
Zaliyah looked down at him, his eyes hazy. The muscle memory and techniques learned from his past visits to the brothels finally asserted themselves. He rolled his hips slowly, grinding down onto Xulthas's length.
Xulthas's jaw tightened, his teeth gritting together as he let out a low hiss. Zaliyah rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm, bouncing upon him while Xulthas watched every movement with dark fascination. Xulthas reached up, his hand cupping Zaliyah's jaw to pull him down into a deep, wet kiss, his thumb flicking Zaliyah's swollen, abused nipple until Zaliyah moaned directly into his mouth.
Then Xulthas took control again.
Wrapping both hands tightly around Zaliyah's waist, Xulthas planted his feet on the floor and drove upward with brutal force, taking over the pace from below.
Zaliyah trembled, clinging to Xulthas's shoulders like a man lost at sea.
"Every time you tighten around me," Xulthas growled, his voice barely holding together, his own dark hair damp with sweat and wild around his face, "I want to ruin you slower." He thrust upward deeper, making Zaliyah gasp. "Every time you make that sound... I want to keep you trapped in this room all night."
His grip bruised Zaliyah's skin, his pace was merciless. Zaliyah could only cry out; he no longer had the courage or strength to look at what was happening between their bodies.
Xulthas let out a deep, guttural groan from the back of his throat—the sound of a man finally reaching his breaking point.
Zaliyah felt the shift before he understood it—a sudden, dangerous swelling, an impossible fullness deep within his lower abdomen that made his body tense instinctively. His walls clamped shut around Xulthas's length, his eyes flying wide open as his breath stuttered.
"Wh-What..." Zaliyah gasped out, panic lacing his tone. "What's happening..."
Xulthas's jaw set hard. His brow furrowed, his teeth biting into his lower lip, his eyes completely blown black with lust.
"Let's give your daughter another sibling," Xulthas whispered with a grin.
Immediately, Xulthas exploded inside him, A relentless flood of seed that poured into Zaliyah, filling his body past its capacity. The white-hot heat spread through Zaliyah's lower abdomen in an instant.
The sensation destroyed the last of Zaliyah's sanity. He came directly against Xulthas's chest with a breathless cry, his entire body shuddering as white strings of his own semen painted the commander's sweat-slicked skin.
His head slumped forward, resting on Xulthas's broad shoulder.
The only sounds remaining in the vast chamber were their synchronization of heavy breaths.
Zaliyah could feel the warm fluid slowly leaking out of him. Xulthas reached down, pressing two fingers inside Zaliyah's entrance to collect a small amount of his own seed. He brought his hand up, pressing his wet fingertips gently against Zaliyah's cherry lips.
Zaliyah parted his mouth. He was far too exhausted to fight or argue. He wrapped his tongue around Xulthas's fingers, licking them clean with a subconscious greed that his fully alert self would have been mortified by.
Then, he felt Xulthas's shaft harden once again inside him. Zaliyah stopped his tongue instantly.
Xulthas laughed, pulling his fingers back slowly. His damp hair was plastered to his forehead, "How does it taste?"
Zaliyah took a long breath before answering.
"Like shit," he muttered. The exhaustion in his voice made it the finest, most devastating line he had ever delivered.
His body surrendered immediately. He slipped into unconsciousness before the last word had even fully left his painted lips.
Xulthas sat quietly on the chaise with the sleeping man held firmly in his lap. He didn't move for a long time. Slowly, tenderly, he began pressing his lips against every inch of pale skin he could reach—trailing dark, crimson marks across Zaliyah's shoulders, his collarbones, and down the delicate line of his spine.
As his mouth rested against the small of Zaliyah's back, Xulthas's green eyes darkened, He leaned down, pressing a kiss directly over Zaliyah's spine, his voice dropping to a low, fierce murmur meant only for the quiet shadows of the room.
"Use me, little celestial," Xulthas whispered into his skin, his breath warm against the bruised flesh. "Play your dangerous games. Point me at your enemies, and I will tear their throats out for you. I am yours to yield. Just stay like this."
Eventually, the excess alcohol and the exhaustion of the night caught up to the commander.
They remained on the chaise, tangled tightly together in the soft, dying light of the fireplace. Xulthas stayed buried deep inside Zaliyah's, his arm wrapped around his waist to shield him from the draft.
Outside the high, arched windows, the Northwest was as brutally cold as ever. Thick frost coated the dark glass panes while gentle flakes of snow drifted down from the sky, painted in the eternal, haunting glow of an amber night.