Chapter 18: Prying Eyes and Ears 🌶️🌶️🌶️

LYDIA

Slowly, Lydia crept over to the door and opened it a crack. Through the sliver of the open door, she saw the anxious face of Dorian peering at her from the other side.

“Good evening, Lydia,” Dorian said, his voice carrying a twinge of nervousness.

“Dorian,” Lydia replied, trying to mask her annoyance at the interruption. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, absolutely, things are perfectly fine,” said Dorian. “I was just wondering if I could borrow a moment of your time. Lucius and the other Slifers are currently talking strategy on our next move against Evine and Uzier, and I’d appreciate being able to—”

“All of that sounds very important, Dorian,” Lydia said, cutting the wizard off. “However, you’re no doubt aware of the fact that I just had an especially taxing day. I’m afraid I won’t be of any use to you or any of the other Slifers until I’ve had some time to rest and recuperate. I’m sure you understand.”

Dorian nodded, though Lydia could see a twitch of disappointment cross the wizard’s face. “Of course,” he replied. “In that case, I’m sorry to bother you. By all means, take all the time that you need.”

Lydia smiled. “Thank you, Dorian. Make sure that you get some rest as well; we can’t have one of our top wizards burning the candle at both ends in times like these.”

Dorian beamed proudly. “Absolutely,” he said. “Be sure to let me know if you need anything—”

The wizard was once again cut short as Lydia closed the wooden doors. She felt a slight pang of guilt at brushing off Dorian so brusquely; at the same time, however, the last thing she wanted to do was draw up strategies and battle plans.

“Who was that?” Gabriel inquired, now fully reclining on the bed. It was apparent that the king had only been half-listening to the interaction at the door.

“Just one of the court magicians here to check up on me,” Lydia replied. After a pause, she added, “I have a suspicion that he might be back again later.”

Gabriel pulled himself upwards into a sitting position. Lydia noted that he seemed to appear a bit less forlorn than he did a few moments prior—not to mention the formidable erection quivering between his legs.

Perhaps their reunion was already beginning to do him some good?

“So, what you’re telling me is that this place isn’t safe for us,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Lydia smirked, forcing her eyes from Gabriel’s manhood. “At the very least it’s not safe for our privacy,” she said. “Try not to be too disappointed; I know how excited you were to spend some more time in my tiny bedroom.”

“I never said it was ~tiny~,” Gabriel said defensively. “I only said that it was ~small~.”

“Are those not the same thing?” Lydia asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hardly,” Gabriel retorted matter-of-factly. “~Tiny~ is one step below ~small.~ One step lower than that, and you end up with ~minuscule.~ It really is an easy concept to grasp.”

“Are those the official measurements?” Lydia asked with a laugh.

“They can be if I want them to be,” said Gabriel haughtily. “I am, after all, the King of Imarnia. My word is law.”

“Well then, ~your highness~,” Lydia teased, approaching the foot of the bed. She placed her hands on both of his knees and leaned forward so that her forehead was touching his. “Where do you suppose we should hide out to avoid the prying eyes and ears of this castle?”

Gabriel smirked. “I am open to suggestions.”

***

GABRIEL

In a flash of brilliant orange light, Lydia transported herself and Gabriel to a new location.

“Where are we?” Gabriel asked. He looked around to get his bearings. They appeared to be in a cylindrical room with sparse furniture or decoration; a simple cot lying in the middle of the room made up the only decor.

The night sky hung above them, starlight beaming in through a large opening in the roof, and Gabriel could feel the slight chill of a faint breeze.

“We’re in the watchtower on top of the Congress of Magic’s headquarters,” Lydia explained.

Sure enough, a series of wide rectangular windows ran around the circumference of the room. Gabriel approached one and looked out, surveying the city below.

Another gust of air blew in through the open window, gently tousling his hair as he took a deep breath.

“And you’re certain no one will find us here?” he asked Lydia cautiously.

The Slifer nodded. “As far as I can tell, nobody actually uses this tower anymore,” she said.

“I’m assuming it was originally built to spot intruders from a distance, but magical wards would have rendered towers like these obsolete some time ago. No sense in diverting manpower to keep an eye out for invaders now that we can simply use magic to detect an enemy at the gates.”

Gabriel blinked. “I didn’t realize you were so well-versed in magic,” he said.

Lydia grinned. “In case you forgot, my lord, it just so happens that I was raised by a wizard.”

Gabriel looked down, slightly embarrassed. “My apologies,” he said. “I mean no disrespect—”

“‘I mean no disrespect,’” Lydia repeated back to him, mocking his tone. Gabriel shot her a look, and she stuck her tongue out at him in response. “Honestly, listen to yourself. Certainly a far cry from the arrogant King of Imarnia that I first met.”

“I don’t suppose you brought me all this way just to mock me,” Gabriel said, feigning offense.

“No,” Lydia said, taking a step forward. “On the contrary, I brought you all this way to fuck you.”

She lightly traced a finger down Gabriel’s chest. It may have been the king’s imagination, but it almost seemed as though sparks flew from her fingertips as she did so.

“Three months,” Lydia said, her voice almost a whisper. “That’s a long time for a Slifer to spend without her partner, don’t you think?”

Gabriel rested both of his hands on her waist. “Indeed,” he replied. “It seems as though we have much to do if we want to make up for lost time.”

“This will also help to bolster our powers against the enemy, of course,” Lydia added. She slowly traced both of her hands around and up the king’s back. “Think of this as…a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Gabriel chuckled. “I wish you wouldn’t use my words against me like that.”

Lydia smiled, her nails digging slightly into his back.

~“Make me.”~

Gabriel eyed his lover like a ravenous wolf might a plump young doe. He twisted his hands into the fabric of her gown and ripped it down the middle in one swift movement.

Lydia gasped as he roughly removed her undergarments, his mouth immediately affixing to her ample breasts. As Gabriel’s tongue danced on her nipples, the lustful king couldn’t remember tasting anything so sweet in his long centuries of existence.

Lydia moaned with need. Gabriel kissed up to her mouth, gently stroking her hair with one hand as the other traced back down to her breasts, her tight stomach, and finally, the small patch of dark hair atop her mound.

How he had longed to graze in it…

~To plow it.~

Gabriel rested Lydia down on the cot and slid down her body. He licked and kissed her inner thighs, his nose brushing her sex ever so gently as he shifted between them. Lydia cried out, twitching under the steady hands clutching her hips, already nearing an orgasm.

Gabriel wouldn’t let his mate wait long. Centering himself between her legs, he slowly licked up her lips, gently taking them in his mouth until his tongue finally scraped across her starving clit.

Lydia screamed bloody murder.

Gabriel's tender licks continued until Lydia could take it no more. With another piercing shriek, she dug her hands into his hair and came, soaking the king's face in her fluids.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she babbled in a dazed voice.

Gabriel simply mopped his face.

“I’m sorry it’s been three months since you’ve cum like that.”

Lydia eyed him hungrily, the fire in her loins already rekindling.

“Your turn,” she said, rising up.

Gabriel shed his pants and lay on the cot as Lydia draped herself over his body. She clutched his rippling arms to brace herself as she fitted his length inside her. The familiar feel of her sheath, slick and warm, nearly made Gabriel cum on the spot.

With great self-control, he suppressed his shot.

The king wanted this to last as long as possible.

Lydia ground into him, soon building to the frenzied speed she knew her lover preferred. The Slifer writhed and gyrated her hips rhythmically as her breath grew shallow. The king wrapped two strong hands around her back, beckoning her to bend down so that he could feel the press of her naked chest against his.

For a while, they were no longer two people, but a single entity with two hearts and two voices, beating and breathing in unison as their tempo quickened.

Growing impatient, Lydia gripped the king’s collar in both hands. With a flourish, the Slifer ripped his shirt down the middle, revealing his glistening pectorals and abs underneath.

“That shirt was expensive,” Gabriel said teasingly.

“So was my dress,” said Lydia, whispering in the king’s ear. “I guess this makes us even.”

Gabriel couldn’t hold back anymore. He was making love to the most perfect woman on Earth, and he was already astounded he’d lasted ~this~ long.

“I’m…cumming…” he groaned.

“Right there with you,” his mate cried.

As they simultaneously climaxed, Gabriel watched Lydia throw her head back, her spine arching as a pillar of bright orange flame erupted from her body, launching upwards through the open roof of the watchtower and exploding into a shower of fireworks.

The flashing light illuminated the room around them, casting long shadows that seemed to gently sway in time with the still-rocking cot. The couple took a moment to rest, panting for breath as the sickly-sweet smell of sweat permeated the air around them.

Resting her hands on Gabriel’s chest, Lydia bent over and kissed her king deeply.

~“Welcome home.”~

***

DORIAN

Dorian sat on a stone bench in the castle courtyard, breathing deeply as he let the cool air blow over him. A bright orange light began to shine in his peripheral vision, and the wizard looked up to see a glaring column of flame erupting from the roof of a nearby watchtower. Dorian paused for a moment to ponder this, and then, upon realization, let out a weary sigh.

“So that’s why she didn’t want to talk,” he said out loud, to no one in particular.

Dorian snapped his fingers, and the spectral form of a raven flickered into sight before him. The raven hopped toward the bench before fluttering upward to land on Dorian’s shoulder. Idly, the wizard lifted a finger to give the bird a friendly scratch under the chin.

“You know,” he said to the bird conversationally, “I honestly don’t understand what she sees in him.”

The raven merely squawked in reply. Dorian sighed again.

“I ~know~ they’re destined for each other,” he replied irritably. “That still doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily ~right.~”

The raven pecked at Dorian’s shoulder before fluttering off and inspecting the ground at the wizard’s feet.

“I’m not ready to give up just yet,” Dorian continued. “She just needs time to come around—that’s all.”

He waved his hand through the air idly, and the translucent raven at his feet vanished with a slight puff of smoke.

“My mother always taught me to be patient.”