Joseph’s lips parted.
Zarrin nodded with decision, a little flushed himself. “We will get to that,” he promised, and tugged Joseph’s hands up so he could breathe against the knuckles and then press a kiss to them. “Because I saw them first,” he said tenderly, “and they are so gentle.”
Joseph made a noise in his throat but did not stop him. Zarrin considered Joseph’s wide eyes and soft mouth before pulling on Joseph’s hands to bring Joseph that much nearer.
Joseph was not a beast; he was a lonely, scared man.
“I was lonely, too,” Zarrin confessed, moving one hand to Joseph’s cheek, trailing his fingertips along one uncertain eyebrow.
“This isn’t what I need,” Joseph insisted shakily, his face warm as he leaned into Zarrin’s touch.
Zarrin stretched closer to kiss the tip of Joseph’s nose, the edge of his jaw.
“Zarrin,” Joseph said weakly after nothing but that, “please.”
“We can wait for the rest. There will be time,” Zarrin purred, and slid naked into Joseph’s lap. The only barrier between them now was Joseph’s clothes, and Zarrin was content to leave them there while he cupped Joseph’s lovely face and bestowed one kiss upon his lips. “That you trust me makes me the most powerful dragon alive,” he explained dreamily, though Joseph would not understand, not yet.
Zarrin only kissed him again, until Joseph’s hands were on him, and Joseph sighed Zarrin’s name with a need he would not yet put words to.
ZARRIN SURFACED from a pleasant, drowsy dream to nuzzle the back of Joseph’s neck.
“Are you planning to leave now?” Joseph asked without turning, as if he could no longer hold the words inside. “There are creatures in the woods after dark. It’s safer to wait until morning.”
Zarrin hesitated, then reminded himself that he was dragon, and a prince royal, and that Joseph was in his arms. He nuzzled Joseph’s nape again, which was flushed and warm. Joseph’s chest and stomach were hot under Zarrin’s palm, clean save for a few spots they had missed. Zarrin would have to do better next time, no matter how tempting it was to curl up next to a sleepy Joseph who was wearing nothing but the marks of Zarrin’s hands and teeth and drops of their mingled seed.
He had thought pulling Joseph into this embrace might soothe some of his worries, but it seemed Joseph could worry in any situation.
“I am not the sort to live in a tower,” Joseph said next, still without turning. “You might find a husband if you keep trying. One who doesn’t hide away. One valued enough that others might have wanted to marry him.”
Joseph’s skin was soft and thin over the knob of his spine. Zarrin kissed it. “Do you want me to leave?”
Joseph stiffened. But he was a stubborn creature. “If you tell the others, and I am finally left alone, I might tear down the wall. I didn’t like that the thorns made you bleed.”
Zarrin paused, not sure how to interpret that. “The thorns fulfilled their purpose. I healed. And… and I realized that you did not know enough about dragons to be aware that I would have healed that first day once the thorns were gone.”
Joseph tensed and pulled away from Zarrin’s mouth. “I saw your wounds myself.”
“You needed me to stay,” Zarrin explained as timidly as he was able. But there was pride in his voice that Joseph would hear. “That is how my magic works.”
“Needagain,” Joseph said. Zarrin couldn’t read his tone.
“You removed your armor for me.” Zarrin studied a bare shoulder. “You are more than welcome to mine. A dragon is better protection than a fence, even a little, inconsequential dragon.”
“The most powerful dragon alive, you said,” Joseph whispered, then rolled over.
“Am I still?” Zarrin demanded breathlessly, bursting with heat at the uncertainty and yearning in Joseph’s eyes. It had been one of Joseph’s first wishes, after all, to be overpowered by Zarrin. Zarrin should have noticed sooner. “I will be your beast, if you like. I will stay here with you. The Quaking Palace has too many dragons as it is, and I can be a husband just as well here.”
Joseph exhaled, and stared at Zarrin with his expression soft and open. Perhaps more open than he would have liked.
“That was your wish, was it not?” Zarrin asked quietly, wanting to be absolutely certain of his welcome before he straddled Joseph’s body and held him down with a dragon’s full weight; Zarrin onlyappearedslight.
Joseph was breathing harder.
Zarrin leaned down, put his hands carefully over Joseph’s wrists, then settled the rest of his body between Joseph’s thighs. Joseph parted them for him without a word.
“More?” Zarrin asked, as if Joseph’s longing wasn’t stoking his fires. “Do I need to tell you the stories of the ancient dragons? What they would do with one such as you?” Claim him, exactly as Joseph wanted. “You would know what it means that I can feel your need so keenly, and you would be proud to be mine. That is…” for a moment, Zarrin was uncertain again, “that is what I wanted when I was alone in the palace, and it is what I want now. But once you know the stories—knowme, you might not want that anymore.”
Joseph met Zarrin’s eyes. Zarrin thought Joseph would speak when he opened his mouth, but then Joseph closed it and continued to watch him without fighting Zarrin’s hold. Joseph’s skin shimmered in the firelight, dotted with sweat from their earlier exertions and the heat of Zarrin’s body. Reddened patches on his collarbone and throat marked when Zarrin had spent a long time kissing him and whispering praise into his skin. Joseph had been the one to plead for more after that, the one to beg softly for Zarrin to take him and then, afterward, sigh as Zarrin cleaned him and pulled him back into his arms.
