Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
His floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a gorgeous panoramic view of his suns rising and setting over the oceans and mountains. He believed it created harmony and balance between the modern technology his solar energy created and the naturality of his summer season.
His men must’ve heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall to his bedchamber, opening the double doors before he arrived. Zepharali just resisted putting his ear to the door of the guest room in his quarters where his beloved was being cared for.
Dyan and Lyan gave him identical leers.
“We already see the change.”
Zepharali allowed them to remove his robe, then proceeded through his opulent sanctuary. He glanced around at the rich green and copper hues, the soft linen drapes cascading down the window walls, and hoped Lazaar would like it.
“Crank open the roof panels. I want him to see the stars and planets when he’s lying in my arms.”
Lyan looked happy for him as he rushed to the control panel behind a framed painting of the goddess of love and typed in the codes.
“Instead of your usual shower, lord, I have taken the liberty of drawing a milk and honey bath. I’ll have your skin so soft and delectable he’ll never want to take his hands off you.”
“Fuck’s sake, Lyan. A bath,” Zepharali growled. “I just had a shower.”
His man lifted a sculpted brow, flipping his purple tresses over one shoulder as if offended. “I didn’t take all that time perfecting the water and infusing our finest oils for you to shrug and say I had a shower.”
Zepharali let Dyan remove his clothing and urged him toward the large tub.
The two were so in love with each other that they didn’t gaze upon him with lust anymore.
He sank into the steamy water, refusing to give his men the satisfaction of a long, drawn-out moan.
Oh, that feels good.
“What’s that smell?” He sighed, reclining against the cushioned headrest.
“Sea coconut and lychee melon oil,” Lyan answered, massaging it into his scalp and through his locks.
“He loved my hair,” he whispered, remembering how Lazaar wove his thin fingers through them.
“Of course he did, my lord. And when I’m finished, he won’t be able to resist burying his nose and getting lost.”
Zepharali sank deeper into the silky water and allowed his men to do what they did best.
Well, besides sexing each other.
Lazaar
Lazaar could’ve fit ten more people in the massive tub he was bathing in.
The room was a combination of luxury and grandeur he never knew could exist. Since he was a dark lord, he assumed all the light surrounding him would bother his senses, but instead, it soothed the built-up nervousness in his body from days of hiding from his beloved.
Lazaar didn’t care that he wasn’t alone in the berry-scented water.
Two attendants were with him, washing him in cracks and crevices that should’ve made him cringe in embarrassment, but it all felt too good.
Several of Zepharali’s daughters were preparing garments and placing grooming tools on a vanity while others sat around the edge of the tub caring for his hands and hair.
A pretty lady with a prosthetic arm and wavy blonde hair they called Elephaa told hilarious stories of their father’s long life that made him laugh so hard his ribs hurt. They also told tales of the many failed attempts at love that brought tears to his eyes.
“How, why?” Lazaar frowned. “He’s beautiful and kind, and I can feel so much love in his core that I fear I won’t be worthy of it.”
The women stilled and smiled at each other, seeming to appear relieved.
An attendant came over with a tray of assorted fruits and cheeses. Lazaar tried to decline, but she ignored him and placed the juiciest piece of something on his tongue. His eyes widened with delight.
He’d never tasted anything more delectable.
“I’m pleased you like them, my prince. They’re sun pears. I grow them myself.” She gave a respectful curtsey, then left a small amount in a dish on the edge of the tub.
He took another as Elephaa continued her story.
“My father’s winds bring intense sparks of passion and desire when he takes an interest in any species, male or female.”
Lazaar nodded.
“When he touches them, lays with them, they can easily absorb traces of his wind that originate from his heart.”
Lazaar’s soul ached for his beloved.
“When with him, they’re happy and overwhelmed with the feelings of new love.” Elephaa sighed. “But when they leave his presence, they realize how irresistible they’ve become to others.”
“They cheat on him with the first damn suitor that approaches and promises them the world. And our father is not the sharing type,” another daughter standing guard at the door said through clenched teeth. “And he shouldn’t have to be.”
“Aspistes, please,” Elephaa whispered, trying to calm her sister. “I can explain if you—”
“Even our own mothers, the damn harlots. Left us and him for whatever random noblemen promised them titles and riches.” She scowled. “They should be in brothels, not living as queens and ladies of realms.”