The Whispers of Shadows - A&A One Shots

aurora's promise - azriel and tarquin

Azriel watched Aurora scurry out of the dining room, the promise of more dessert and the sea rushing her. He grinned at the sight, turning to the High Lord beside him. Tarquin had a faint blush over his cheeks, fingers tapping his wine glass. Azriel looked over the jewelry he had on his fingers, wrist, arm, and neck. His brow rose at the sight of the thick necklace hanging over his dark chest. A good handle, perhaps.

"So, Aurora spoke to you?" Tarquin asked, rising from his seat and filling his wine glass. He filled another and handed it to Azriel, who took it with a nod.

"She did. I'm happy to oblige, High Lord." He kept his voice low, enticing. He knew what was expected of him, dark and seductive, and he knew just how to meet that expectation. Azriel glanced to the guards that stood near the doorway of the dining room. Tarquin matched his gaze.

"You're dismissed. Oh, and don't follow Aurora to the sea. She would enjoy the serenity," Tarquin announced. The two guards bowed quickly and slipped into the corridor. Azriel smirked and sipped the sweet wine as he stepped around his chair. Tarquin wasn't a dominating male, more so a play toy for Azriel tonight. He was satisfied with Aurora earlier, but the thought of a High Lord at his mercy was enticing. The way Tarquin was acting, flushed and rapidly sipping his wine, told Azriel that he could treat him similar to how he treats Aurora at times like this.

He stood just in front of Tarquin, taller by many inches. He rose a hand to press his knuckle beneath his chin and lift his face. He heard the male release a shuddering breath as he looked up to meet Azriel's demanding stare.

"Helion mentioned me to you? What are you hoping for tonight, High Lord?" Azriel's voice was rasping, desire thick on his tongue. His lips quirked at the way Tarquin's eyes fell to his mouth, then throat, then eyes again. The way his chest rose at his words was enough of a sign to know that Tarquin enjoyed being called his title in intimate moments.

"I was told of your mouth," Tarquin spoke in a breath. Azriel brought his thumb to the High Lord's bottom lip, running it along the soft skin. Azriel hummed, sipping his wine. "I'd like to start with that."

Azriel feigned a bow, an amused grin on his lips. "Lead the way, High Lord." Tarquin swallowed his wine roughly, blinking as he turned and lead Azriel from the dining room. He basked in the way Tarquin was nervous, strolling behind with a hand in the pocket of his trousers and casually sipping the wine. They walked through corridors, Azriel watching the sea below each time they passed an opening.

They neared a large double door, two guards standing on either side. Tarquin gave them all a nod as they opened the door to allow him and Azriel in. Azriel rose a brow as he observed the room. It was similar to his and Aurora's, though much bigger. It still had the open balcony, the open bathing chamber, but it had more of a personal touch. Paintings of the palace in different angles were on the wall, some of the sea.

"Make yourself at home," Tarquin mused as he went to a bar along the far wall, nearest the balcony. Azriel, too interested in that to observe the room more, walked up behind him and sat the glass on the bar. Tarquin was pouring drinks that were far stronger than wine.

"Is this for courage?" Azriel whispered into his ear, grinning when he stiffened.

"As I told Aurora, I've always been a bit frightened of you," Tarquin murmured, setting the bottle of amber liquid down. He handed Azriel a glass over his shoulder and took his own, throwing it back like a shot. A drop began to fall from his lip and Az caught it with his thumb, making sure Tarquin watched as he brought it to his own mouth. He sucked the tart liquid from his skin and hummed, bringing the glass to his mouth and sipping.

"I can go easy," Azriel suggested, setting his glass down and stepping to the side to be in front of the High Lord. Tarquin swallowed again, his eyes dropping to Azriel's muscled chest. He chose to wear the tied fabric again.