“Nanda,” Shah greeted, smiling in pleased surprise. “It is late, what are you doing here?” He crossed the small space of his private office – here he could work without even his secretaries bothering him – and knelt beside Nanda at the work table, reaching out to stroke one fine cheek, run his fingers through the loose hair. “You should be asleep, my beauty.”
Rolling his eyes, Nanda then nuzzled into the touch. “Beynum and Aik are still at the temple with her Majesty, for the All Night Ceremony. Kiah is tending poor Witcher.”
“I hope his headache abates soon,” Shah said, sighing in concern for his pale witch.
“Likely by morning,” Nanda said. He tilted his head slightly, pressing further into the hand still buried in his hair. “It is my King who concerns me at present. You are still working, Shah, and it is quite late.”
“My Queen stands vigil all night for the souls of our people; I can hardly take to my own bed. Besides, the quiet of the vigil is permitting me to get ahead in my work for once.” Still, he leaned forward and gave the kiss Nanda was silently requesting, tasting the sharp, bitter wine that Nanda favored. “You should be sleeping, my beauty, but I confess I am not sorry to see you.”
Nanda smiled in his whisper-soft way but made no reply, merely pressed soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek. His hands smoothed over Shah’s shoulder, and he could feel the warmth even through the layers of fabric, the way the calloused tips of Nanda’s fingers caught on the fine fabric.
Then those elegant fingers moved to his sash, freeing it, before working at the small, hidden fastenings of his robe, pushing it open. “Nanda,” Shah said softly, turning his head to catch the lips still pressing butterfly kisses across his face, taking a proper kiss, tasting the bittersweet of his mouth.
“You work too hard, Shah,” Nanda whispered, and pushed gently until Shah lay on his back.
Shah smiled faintly and sank his hand into Nanda’s soft hair, delighted to see it down, amazed that Nanda had left it so. “The King should work harder than all others, my beauty. Your hair is lovely, Nanda.”
“Yes,” Nanda replied. “If it was not, it would not be fit for my King.” Pushing Shah’s robes further out the way, he splayed his calloused fingers over his shoulders, dragging them lightly down Shah’s chest, then bent to explore that same skin with his mouth. That long, long hair spilled everywhere, cool against his skin where Nanda’s fingers now burned.
Nails raked lightly across his abdomen, danced ever so lightly over his cock.
Shah shivered. “Nanda…”
“Do I please my King?” Nanda asked, a rare teasing note in his voice. He did not wait for a reply, but bent to continue exploring Shah’s skin with his mouth, trailing wet kisses down his chest, stomach, teeth nipping lightly at one hipbone.
Fingers again teased over his cock and Shah barely was able to hold himself still, shuddering with the need to arch up into those fingers. So few, so very few people with whom he could something other than King, with whom he could be completely vulnerable.
Every moment of every day was spent addressing the needs of others…it always felt both awful and wonderful to give in to any need of his own.
He tightened his grip in the long hair and pulled Nanda up for another kiss, liking the soft laughter that spilled into his mouth. “Beautiful Nanda…”
Nanda hummed in pleasure and licked his lips, but pulled away again. “If I am beautiful, my King, it is because you make me so, and give me reason to be.” His eyes flared with heat as he wrapped his fingers around Shah’s cock, stroking firmly. “All pale before you.”
Shah would have laughed at the ridiculousness of that – he was, compared to those men who chose to be his, to his Queen and her own collection of jewels, quite the ugly one – but the fingers stroking him were suddenly replaced by mouth and tongue, exploring him from the base up. Nanda lapped and licked the length of his cock, working his way slowly up, then back down, shifting slightly to mouth and taste his sack, humming softly.
Always, with Nanda, there was music.
“Beauty…” Shah said on a shuddering groan head falling back, pressing into the floor, legs falling further apart, Nanda’s calloused fingers stroking the soft skin of his inner thighs before moving up to grasp his hips.
Then that beautiful, talented mouth dropped down over his cock, instantly surrounding him in tight, wet heat. Shah bucked, crying out sharply, hands tightening in Nanda’s hair. But Nanda’s grip was firm, a rare show of strength he seldom was inclined to display, holding Shah in place, forcing him simply to lay there and enjoy.
Enjoy it he did, his world narrowing to the wet, white-hot pleasure of Nanda’s mouth, Nanda’s touch, the rest of his concerns for the moment left behind. The world continued to get smaller, tighter, hotter than he could stand, until it all broke loose in a sudden burst and he cried Nanda’s name in a hoarse shout. He shuddered as the world slowly returned, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure, the warm tongue that lapped him clean before Nanda slid up to kiss him.
Mmm, yes. The finest wine in the world did not compare to the taste of pleasure in his lovers’ mouths. Bitter, salty, but still that underlying sweet that was ever present with Nanda. Shah stroked one hand down his spine, pushing beneath the fabric of his pants and skirts to explore further. A hard heat pushed against him, kept from him by the impeding fabric. “Ah, my beauty. I am spoiled by you.”
“It is the other way around, Shah,” Nanda said with a faint smile, shifting to lavish attention upon his throat, tongue flicking out, and Shah could not repress a shiver.
He pushed Nanda up enough to get his hand between them, fingers working with familiar ease to undo the fastenings of skirt and pants, pushing into them to wrap his hand around Nanda’s cock, watching intently the need and passion that took over Nanda’s face.
A life in the palace had taught Nanda to control his expressions always; Shah delighted in these rare moments where all was laid bare. He stroked harder, pulling hard, pressing a kiss to Nanda’s throat right where his pulse beat. “Nanda,” he said softly, a gentle command, and Nanda came, shuddering in his arms, letting out a soft cry, head dipping as pleasure crashed through him, emotions plain upon his face.
They lay quietly for a few moments, exchanging easy touches and kisses. “It seems suddenly impossible to resume working,” Shah said finally. He would, though. It would put him ahead an entire day, which meant perhaps he would finally find some free time to spend with his loved ones.
Nanda stirred from where he lay atop Shah, shifting to whisper low in his ear, explaining exactly what Shah would be able to do if he cleared away the paperwork cluttering the table.