Deven and the Dragon - Eliot Grayson Page 0,79
Fiora all day? What, for that matter, would Deven think of himself?
No, he resolved. He would make Fiora a part of his life, not something separate. Fiora wouldn’t mind if he spent some of his time in town helping his aunt and uncle, and they’d be happy for him in their turn. They might be shocked now, but they’d come around. It was impossible not to love Fiora, and Phina would be feeding him and nagging him in no time at all.
With renewed appetite, Deven polished off the last of his plate and put his fork down. The conversation had wound down while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and it looked like everyone else had finished their lunch too.
“We ought to retire to the terrace and have cake served there,” Lord Luca said, setting down his own cutlery. “We can have our…discussion. What do you think of that idea, my love?”
“Splendid,” said Lady Ana, and Phina and George both nodded along — George with more enthusiasm, after the mention of cake.
Deven and Fiora’s eyes met, and Deven saw his own consternation reflected there. How long could this last? Cake, and more wine, and then tea, could take hours. Hours of their various relatives interrogating, haranguing, and attempting to exert their mostly imaginary authority…and Deven and Fiora were outnumbered by a factor of two, more if Andrei sided with the enemy.
Before Deven could think of a way out, Fiora spoke up, proving for the thousandth time that Deven was entirely, definitely right to be passionately in love with him. “I’m afraid I’ll need to go and lie down,” Fiora said, striking precisely the right note of regret. “I’m still not quite myself. Deven, would you come and help me up the stairs? And then perhaps remain in case I need any further assistance.”
“I’m sure Andrei would be —” Lord Luca began.
Oh, fuck no. If Fiora escaped without him, Deven would be toast. He took his life in his hands, standing and blatantly interrupting Lord Luca with, “Of course, at once, you do look tired. Let’s go upstairs.”
Without waiting for a reply, he rounded the table in double-time — giving Lord Luca the widest possible berth — and held out his hand to Fiora. Wide-eyed and with a smile tugging at his full lips, Fiora scrambled out of his chair and took it.
They both muttered something that could have vaguely passed for We enjoyed lunch so much, have a lovely afternoon, and beat a hasty retreat.
They were both giggling like idiot schoolboys as Fiora shut, and firmly locked, the bedroom door behind them. Deven pressed him up against it at once, pushing a muscled thigh between Fiora’s legs and kissing him with the same frantic need Fiora felt rising up in himself. His cock was rising too, happy to meet Deven’s leg and eager to spend more time with the rest of him.
“If resting in bed was a euphemism for spending the rest of the day not resting in bed, I’m game,” Deven gasped between kisses.
And that — oh, that was an extraordinarily appealing idea, but Fiora had had quite another as they ran up the stairs. Something perhaps less pleasurable for Deven, but something that to Fiora was even more intimate than sharing their bodies.
“I — no —” Deven pulled back, flushed and panting. “I mean, yes, but — no wait, Deven,” Fiora managed, as Deven leaned down for another kiss, his eyes glinting with something Fiora was starting to recognize as a prelude to all of their clothes going flying. “Wait! There was something else.”
“Anything you want, love,” Deven said, withdrawing his hands from where they’d burrowed under Fiora’s coat and shirt. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Fiora risked starting the undressing process over again by stretching up and kissing the corner of Deven’s mouth. “There’s something I — I want to show you,” he stammered.
Oh, but this was terrifying. It had to be done, though. If Deven were to live Fiora’s life with him, which he thoroughly hoped he would, he needed to see not only the human part of him, but the draconic part as well. Their families had met now, for better, for worse — or for dueling lessons, God help them all. There wasn’t any going back. Would Deven think Fiora was foolish? He might. It made Fiora’s heart pound and his stomach twist to imagine Deven’s possible reactions, ranging from disbelief to laughter.
Deven was frowning down at him, his brows drawn together. “You don’t sound like