Stamel took Seidrik’s mouth by force, tongue invading as their lips locked. Seidrik melted helplessly under Stamel’s fierce kiss, teeth gnashing with an equally brutal nip. “There’s nothing embarrassing when it comes to me. There’s no shame for you. There’s only what I demand. Do you understand?”
Seidrik broke from the kiss, panting, and gave a short nod.
“Now, tell me. Because I’m unsure as to what overcame you on Lumic’s birthing night, and if a begging night it was, we need to monitor things or be proactive.” Stamel’s grip didn’t relent.
“She said it would undo all the hard work you put into working your place into me and I’d have to sufferyour enormous member gouging its way through me as virginal once more.” Seidrik’s cheeks burned as he whispered.
“And you took me with such eagerness and ease that I know that’s not the case. So, either you lie, or tell the truth. I’m inclined to believe you. So, was that anything like a begging night?” Stamel stared Seidrik down so fiercely that he didn’t withhold his own ignorance.
“I don’t know! I don’t. I’ve never… I’ve been on preventatives since I—since the change… I heard a tale that when one grows hairthere, that their begging nights aren’t too far off and I started then. I’ve never had a full one to know.” Seidrik huffed. “And what ones I did have weren’t too terrible. I spent a lot of time tending my own churn, so to speak.”
Stamel deflated a little, the tense worry in his expression abetting. “Keep an eye on things. I’m playing a delicate game, so even if you’re on preventatives, I’ll avoid your begging nights, are we clear?”
Seidrik nodded, and Stamel brushed his hair back, his eyes softening. “Now let’s go get some rest before our long journey.”
Chapter Twelve
Stamel
Their first journey on the thalmway was a tumultuous one. Stamel would have much rather taken the several days’ journey and flown the legs of it. He pitched forward, head between his knees and breathed deeply to overcome the sense of staying still in one place with movement around him. “I curse your brother-in-law for this.”
“With that little stunt you pulled, he’s your brother-in-law, too.” Seidrik drummed his fingers on the arm of a rather ostentatiously padded settee that had been bolted to the floor.
“Drat.” Stamel sat up and leaned back, taking slow, calculated breaths. “I had intended to menace you most of the way.”
“Oh joy,” Seidrik said, his tone growing bored and surly. It’d always been a mask he wore to cover his nerves.
From Croatens to Liaberos, the journey by thalmway was a half day, and they’d been told to expect them of the afternoon, in time to wash up for dinner. There, Alluin was sure to have the most bland and uninteresting meal he’d ever seen. The king must have thought salt too spicy. Perhaps bland would be nice after his day of riding rails as smooth as silk on a countryside that rolled with curvaceous and almost-lewd shapes. “Would you look at those rocks over there?”
“Let me guess, they, too, look like a bottom.” Seidrik sighed and glanced over. “Oh.”
Stamel delighted when Seidrik raised a brow. The phallic monument was either a natural feature worn away over time or some long-gone deity’s fertility sculpture. It was equally likely one of the goddessesmandated a king have iterectedfor some inane reason that ultimately meant little other than a punishment. It was fanciful thinking to hope Alluin’s only legacy would be a giant cock and bollocks.
As the hours waned and the noonday sun raised high in the sky, warming the cabin to something slightly above comfort, he removed his shirt and fretted that none of the windows of the unit could open. He’d voice his concerns later to Nemiah if they ever met. Seidrik, for his part, seemed content to sit in one spot with that wearied expression sweating away.
When they rose above the horizon, spotting the pale and golden gilded spires of the Liaberos castle, Seidrik sat up straight. “Put your shirt back on. The last thing I need is speculation.”
“Speculation,” Stamel wheedled as he stuffed his tunic on and back into place. “Bollocks. Nobody would assume you’re the type to be bothered with sex.”
“And I wish to keep it that way.” Seidrik tidied up his hair which had grown a few shades paler in the time he’d spent in Croatens. Stamel would torture him endlessly if he were to darkwash it once more.
“Why is it that you, being older, haven’t been introduced to many ladies? Virion was practically old by royalty standards. How old was he, twenty?” Stamel slouched as Seidrik gave him a put-upon glare.
“Royalty is typically alpha and omega. Being beta, the selection of females is…sparse. What options presented to me were more interested in alphas than myself.” Seidrik sniffed imperiously and shrugged. “That, and Father wanted to personally select my partner based on who could offer him the most, and nobody has yet to offer him a daughter with enough financial backing. Honestly, I assumed he was searching for a wife for himself before I could have mine.”
“Sounds about like Alluin.” Stamel huffed and Seidrik shrugged. “There were a match or two that he considered, but their families backed out—assuming that Alluin might be the intended groom, I supposed. Wouldn’t know howthatparticular rumor started.”
“Oh. You devious little jewelfly.” Stamel grinned, and Seidrik’s cheeks colored before he turned his head away.
“I thought you wanted a wife and to have children.” Stamel toyed with some dust on the windowsill.
“I kept hoping there’d be a female I could perform for, as it were. The only time I came close was when—” Seidrik closed his mouth, and his cheeks went deeply pink.
“When, what?” Stamel crawled over toward him and reached out, poised to pluck at one of his tender nipples.
“When I sat about imagining an alpha.” Seidrik huffed at the admission.
“Which alpha?” Stamel grinned.
