Zarius didn’t give Cherion a second to think, back out, or try to talk his way out of it.

Before Cherion could even draw a breath to argue about the monarch’s massive oil painting staring down at them with cold regal judgment, Zarius’s mouth crashed back over his. The frantic hands Cherion had raised to pull his open shirt together lost all their strength, dropping uselessly to clutch at the fabric of Zarius’s heavy coat instead.

Zarius broke the kiss just enough to drag his lips down the sharp line of Cherion’s jaw. His breath was hot and harsh against the soft skin below Cherion’s ear, making him shiver straight down to his toes.

"Zarius..." Cherion gasped, a barely-there, trembling sound. "We really... we shouldn’t..."

"Quiet, please," Zarius growled softly against his skin.

With a swift, ruthless tug, Zarius yanked Cherion’s silk shirt completely off his shoulders. The fine fabric gathered in a tangled band around Cherion’s elbows, trapping his upper arms against his sides without actually stripping the garment off, exposing his bare chest to the thick, lingering heat of the deserted corridor.

Cherion gasped, his shoulder blades pressing flat against the wall behind him. The contrast was enough to make his head spin. Every inch of skin where they touched felt as though it were catching fire under the light slipping through the windows.

"You say we shouldn’t," Zarius murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration that rattled straight against Cherion’s ribcage. His eyes glinted as he pressed closer. "And yet your heart is beating so fast I can feel it in my own chest."

"Because you’re... you’re out of your mind," Cherion panted, his chest heaving as he tried to claw back a single shred of control. He looked up, his wide, blue eyes darting nervously toward the end of the corridor. "If anyone walks down this corridor, Zarius, if a single..."

"Let them," Zarius cut in smoothly, his thumb tracing a slow, burning path over Cherion’s collarbone. "I told you, no one is coming down here. And even if they did, do you really think I’d let them look at you like this?"

Before Cherion could process the possessive edge in those words, Zarius leaned down, his dark hair falling forward as his mouth found the heavy flush of Cherion’s chest.

He didn’t rush. He dragged his tongue slowly over the dip of Cherion’s collarbone, catching the sharp, hitching gasp that tore from Cherion’s throat before tracking a wet, scorching trail straight down to his nipple.

When Zarius took him into his mouth, Cherion’s entire world whited out.

"Ah...!" Cherion’s voice cracked in the quiet corridor.

Zarius sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before his teeth grazed over it in a slow, rhythmic pull. At the same time, his hand reached up to pinch and roll the other side, squeezing with just enough pressure to send a shockwave of electric pleasure shooting straight to Cherion’s core.

Cherion’s head cracked back against the wall with a soft, helpless thud. His eyes literally rolled back into his head, his vision blurring into pure white as a wave of intense, dizzying sensation crashed over him. He was completely helpless in Zarius’s grip. He shoved his own wrist frantically into his mouth, biting down hard on his skin to muffle the high, desperate whimper that threatened to echo down the hallway.

Above them, the painted, immortal eyes of King Alderon and Yerel stared down in silence, but Cherion couldn’t care less if the entire royal court walked down the hall right now. His mind was completely ruined, reduced to the single, overwhelming feeling of Zarius’s hot mouth on his skin.

Zarius paused, pulling back just an inch to watch the helpless rhythm of Cherion’s breathing. He smirked, his breath burning hot against Cherion’s damp, trembling skin.

"Look at you," Zarius growled, his voice thick with satisfied pride as he switched sides, dragging his tongue over the other nipple until Cherion was shaking violently in his arms. "Don’t hold it back. I want to hear every sound you make for me."

"Shut... shut up," Cherion whimpered into his wrist, his eyes half-closed and heavy with unshed tears of pure pleasure. "You’re... doing this... on purpose..."

"Of course I am," Zarius purred against his skin. "I want you so completely ruined that you can’t even remember your own name, much less anyone else’s."

Cherion let out a soft, broken groan, his fingers desperately tightening in Zarius’s dark hair, not to push him away, but to hold him right there against his chest.

While Cherion was still lost in the haze, out of his mind with sensation, Zarius’s free hand slid down between their bodies. Zarius kept Cherion hitched securely high against his hip, holding him pinned with the heavy weight of his chest and broad shoulders so Cherion didn’t slip an inch down the wall.

Zarius’s long, deft fingers made short work of Cherion’s belt. The metallic buckle unfastened with a sharp, clear clink that sounded scandalously loud in the quiet alcove. With ease, Zarius unbuttoned the front of Cherion’s trousers, zipping them down and shoving the stiff fabric past his hipbones without pulling them off his legs.

A sharp shiver ran down Cherion’s exposed hips as the air hit him, but a second later, Zarius’s hand moved, pressing hard against his bare skin.

Without breaking the rhythm, Zarius’s other hand, which had been palming Cherion’s ass all along, dug deep, squeezing the firm muscle through his thin linen undergarments. He lifted Cherion slightly higher against the stone before his long fingers slid further down, reaching under and between Cherion’s thighs.

Cherion’s hips unconsciously bucked forward into the touch, seeking more of that agonizing heat.

"Zarius... please... ah! Zarius..." Cherion wept quietly, his body shaking from the intense contrast of cold stone at his back and furnace heat in front.

"Please what?" Zarius murmured against Cherion’s throat. His mouth trailed back up to Cherion’s jawline, nipping at the sensitive, bruised skin right under his ear until Cherion gasped. His hand between Cherion’s thighs stroked over him with a slow, heavy rhythm that made Cherion’s toes curl. "Tell me, Cherion. Use your words. What are you begging me for?"

"You..." Cherion choked out, his voice cracking with embarrassment and sheer desperation. His fingers dug into the rough stone wall behind him, searching for leverage he couldn’t find while suspended. "God, you... stop teasing me... please..."

Zarius let out a low, rumbling laugh that vibrated straight through Cherion’s bare chest. "That’s better."

Cherion’s legs tightened around Zarius’s waist on pure survival instinct, locking his ankles firmly behind Zarius’s back to keep his balance. His bare chest heaved against Zarius’s stiff coat, his arms clinging desperately around Zarius’s broad shoulders as the world tilted beneath them.

"Say it again," Zarius commanded, his voice dropping into a rough, low purr right against Cherion’s trembling lips as he aligned himself. "Say my name."

"Zarius..." Cherion choked out, his eyes brimming with helpless tears as he pressed his forehead against Zarius’s cheek. "Zarius, please..."

Zarius smiled, a slow, wicked expression that made Cherion’s heart hammer against his ribs.

"Good," Zarius murmured. He brushed his lips against the edge of Cherion’s mouth, lingering there just long enough to feel him tremble. "That’s the only name you’re supposed to call."

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