Zasha's Capture Ch. 02

He wanted this union, and his words as he addressed his people were heartfelt and genuine. They had parted to let the group pass. This time no garments were cast down to shield them from the earth, Dafa had been waiting outside the temple and had brought Cora shoes to wear. Zasha had no need of them from the safety of his perch.

It took very little time for them to reach the palace. Once they were inside, Gowron had lowered Zasha to the floor as attendants came forward. Cora and Dafa left the room.

As soon as Zasha's feet touched the polished stone, he was nearly mauled as his niece and nephew launched themselves at him. Running into the room, they seemed to be oblivious to the two new additions that were presently watching the trio.

It never ceased to amaze him how much Mora and Naban favored each other, despite being opposite sex. He loved them very much, and he had watched them grow and blossom, always inseparable. They were very different from him, their skin several shades deeper and their frames built more along the tall, willowy forms common among their people. Zasha was a full head shorter than the two of them. They jostled him back and forth between them as they crushed him in an embrace from each side, catching him in the middle.

"Are you married now?"

"What was the High Priestess like?"

"Were there many flowers?"

Before he had a chance to answer any of the whispered questions, Naban let out a loud, "Aha! Look Mora!"

That was the one thing that truly announced their differences. Naban's voice was rich, full of a beautiful luster and cadence that was all his own. The pair was renowned for their knowledge of herb lore past their years, but those closest to them knew of another talent they shared. The pair could sing as if the Goddess herself had shaped their voices. The rich baritone bounced off the walls, drawing both Gowron's and Baine's heads up.

In his hand Naban was clutching the small bundle of herbs that Zasha had chosen from the heaps of flowers on the altar. Mora and Naban joined hands, Zasha still between them, and began to dance around in a circle, laughing and smiling.

"He chose ours!"

"Did Mother or Father tell you?"

"They wouldn't have. It's a secret who the flowers are from."

"I knew you would find ours!"

"I bet it was buried in a mountain of others."

"We knew that this would be more loved than any other fair Faer blooms!"

"It is the fairest of the fair Faer blooms!"

"Yes! Far more fair than any fair Faer flower!"

"The fairest of fair Faer's fair flowers!"

They spun around him, chittering about the small bundle. They latched onto the silly words, trying to outdo each other with the next ridiculous wording. Zasha did something he had not truly done in a very long time: he laughed. It wasn't an amused chuckle, or an expression of some small happiness, it was a moment born of pure joy. He was home, surrounded by those he loved, and he was finally reunited with the one he loved most.

"Yes, yes. You are both very clever." Zasha put his hands on them, stopping their dancing as he smiled at them. "I did not know who left it, only that it was someone who must have understood me very well. I should have guessed." The pair beamed down at him, the traces of mirth were still there, but a bit of seriousness had taken over the place of silliness.

"We should know you best Uncle Zasha," Mora said. "After all, we seek to bind what has been broken, too."

They all looked down at the bundle in Naban's hands. Zasha reached out to take it from him, holding it gently. "Yes, and I hope that soon our need for such herbs are greatly diminished." All traces of levity were gone as Mora and Naban exchanged a glance.

It was Naban who spoke now, reminding Zasha of the war that they still faced. He turned his eyes to the foreign presence in the room. "We should make arrangements for our new allies to be treated so that they cannot be drained."

Zasha turned to Gowron, the reality of the situation intruding. He had no desire to speak of war tonight, but it was necessary. Without the special barrier, they would not be safe from the life draining touch of the cursed Death Walkers.

Zasha moved towards Gowron, "It is true what Naban says. Plans need to be made to protect your fighters, especially now that our healers are separated from us."

"That is so, but that is why my Second is here," Gowron looked at Baine. "Do what must be done, I take my leave. And my Tsar'sen."

Zasha found himself being swept into Gowron's arms once more. He looked up into those molten eyes. A low voice whispered right next to his antennae, making him shiver.

"Now, where are your rooms?"

He felt himself grow warmer as he pointed wordlessly the direction Gowron should go.

* * * *

The door closed behind them as they entered Zasha's quarters. It was a strange moment for Gowron, stepping into the area that his mate called his own. Everywhere were little pieces that mirrored Zasha's interests and everyday life.

The main room appeared to be a study area and was strewn with books, dried plants, and other odds and ends that he did not recognize. It was warm and inviting, the walls a shade of burnt orange and the room a mixture of warm reds, and browns. A small table and set of three mismatched chairs was placed near doors that opened to a small balcony. The doors to it were closed, but generous glimpses of foliage were visible from the outside garden. There were several different chairs in a group in one corner of the room. Though they were of obvious quality, they were also mismatched and appeared well used. The left wall was covered from floor to ceiling with shelves full of books. The right wall mirrored the left, only the bookshelves were interrupted by a door in the center.

A platter of cheeses, meats, and fruits was placed on a small table in the main room, along with a pitcher that was dripping with accumulated moisture. The room was lit with numerous small orbs hanging from tiny silver chains. He remembered that he had seen such a thing before, during his first encounter with Zasha. The orbs hung quite low to the floor, low enough that he would have to navigate around them. He supposed they must be that low so that Zasha would be able to reach them in order to activate them.

Dodging the hanging lights, he walked towards the small table that contained the food. He carefully placed Zasha in one of the chairs before choosing the largest for himself. Zasha looked at him quizzically. In answer, he reached out and selected a slice of meat for himself, watching as Zasha did the same with a piece of fruit. Gowron watched as Zasha lifted the pitcher, carefully pouring the liquid into two glasses.

He had a strong suspicion that this was why the Queen had disappeared so quickly. He also suspected that Zasha had taken no nourishment that day. He watched as Zasha ate, his desire on hold for the moment.

They continued to eat in silence, Gowron watching his mate all the while. Zasha would look at him and then glance away nervously, his antennae twitching erratically. When Gowron had drained his glass, Zasha reached out to refill it. Once he had set the pitcher back down, Gowron reached for the small hand, catching it by the wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He slowly kissed each fingertip, the sweetness of fruit and the tartness of the cheese mingling on his tongue as he licked at the small digits. When he sucked on the soft flesh between the thumb and forefinger, he could hear Zasha's breath quicken. When he nipped it, there was an audible gasp.

A familiar sweet scent, remembered from long ago, filled the room.

He stood, taking the small hand in his own before pulling Zasha to his feet. He looked at Zasha, the question in his eyes clear. Zasha nodded towards the door on the left wall.

The room was dimly lit by the same low hanging orbs, but even so the difference from the other room caused him to pause for a moment. The main room was obviously meant to be shared with others; this room was arranged for solitude. The color of the room was quite different from the warmth of the other room also. All the fabrics were deep blues, with splashes of silver and black. The scheme gave Gowron the impression of coolness, and perhaps a touch of sadness, too.

Everything seemed to have its place in this room, no books or odds and ends strewn about here. A large desk sat in a corner with a set of ink, paper, and writing instruments, and a tidy stack of books. Under it was the only chair in the room. There was a huge window on the same side as the garden. It arched out, offering a panoramic view and allowing room for a cushioned seat along the edge. He could easily picture Zasha sitting there and staring out on the view it offered. Black curtains, currently tied back with silver ribbon, fell from the ceiling to the floor, offering a way to shut out the light. A few pillows were placed on the seat in a perfect arrangement. On the opposite wall was another door, he suspected it lead to a private bath, but at the moment he was more interested in another area of Zasha's quarters.

Across the room was the bed. It was enormous, considering Zasha's size. It also had the same black curtains hanging from the ceiling on each corner. A single orb hung down near the center of it, currently it was inactive, the light from the window lighting the room. The bed was turned down, offering a glimpse of sumptuous deep blue linens. However, the item that drew the most attention was the heavily embroidered cover. It was deep black velvet, and on it was a mass of silver lines swirling and branching in impossibly intricate patterns. As he looked at it, it seemed to shift and shimmer, morphing into visions of plants and animals depending upon where he rested his eyes. Another marvel of Faer embroidery. He was anxious to see Zasha spread across the sheets underneath it.

He turned to pull Zasha into his arms once more, before moving towards his goal.

* * * *

It was strange, sitting and eating in his rooms with Gowron as if it were a normal part of his everyday life. He hardly had time to consider this as he ate, constantly aware of his mate's presence. He was nervous, waiting for the moment he knew was coming soon. When Gowron captured his hand, he realized the moment had come.

He was barely able to stop himself from squirming in his seat as Gowron licked and nibbled. He had never thought of hands as being able to receive such a sensual touch, but he was discovering this now. With every lick and bite, new nerves were being awakened. His palm, the webbing of his fingers, even the soft meat below his thumb was not immune.

How many times had he felt the power within him flow through those very same hands that were now receiving an intimate caress?

His hand was abandoned suddenly, only to be wrapped in Gowron's own as he pulled them towards the bedroom. Zasha followed behind him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He stood behind him for a moment as Gowron paused in the doorway, before he was swept into his arms and taken towards the bed.

How long had he prayed for this moment? Dreaming and wishing for it? But now that it was upon him, he was filled not only with desire, but also nervousness verging on fear. He was no longer as naïve as he had been when they had first met. He knew the manner in which men made love, and he would have to be blind not to notice the difference in size between himself and his mate. He had no doubt in Gowron, but he also had no experience other than their first encounter, and what he had been brave enough to try himself. He realized he was trembling as he was lowered to the bed. Gowron carefully removed his boots, setting them near the edge of the bed. His leather bracers and empty weapon belt following them. Golden eyes turned to regard Zasha with burning intensity.

"Gowron," he failed to hide the tremor in his voice.

"Shh. Trust me, I promise to be gentle. I will not do anything you do not wish. You are my Tsar'sen, I would never harm you." Zasha found his smaller body being framed between Gowron's arms as he climbed onto the bed.

A gentle kiss silenced anymore fears he had.

Ah Goddess, it had been so long. So many tears. So many cycles of loneliness. They melted away as Gowron lips caressed his own. The serpentine tongue he remembered sought out his own, invading his mouth to tease and tempt his tongue out to play. It flickered just past his open lips, tickling and licking at him. He wrapped his arms around Gowron's neck, sliding them underneath wriggling tentacles. His embrace was answered, not only by muscular arms, but also by all those extra limbs, curling and stroking him.

With each passing moment the kiss became more intense. His tongue was captured by the suction of Gowron's mouth, and he felt the gentle bite of teeth. The feeling of his tongue being nipped and squeezed sent pulses of sensation through him. He moaned and pressed his body upwards, needing something more than just this passionate kiss. In answer, strong fingers tangled in his intricate braids, pulling his head back to bare his neck. He shifted his legs, opening them so that Gowron could lie between them. He failed to stop his shocked moan as a hand and several tentacles wound their way up his tunic, pressing warm scaled flesh along his skin.

The curve of his neck was being thoroughly lathed with a flickering tongue. The shivers of fear from before were now replaced with quivering moans. Embarrassed by the sounds he was making, he covered his mouth with his hand, biting his fingers to quiet the unbidden noise.

A tentacle wrapped around his wrist, pulling the hand away. Gowron hissed against his antennae. The true snake-like sound was accompanied by a vibrating tongue. It drew the loudest moan yet from him.

"Do you dare to deny me the sounds of pleasure I pull from you?" The voice was deep and right against his sensitive antennae. When the agile tongue encircled the base of one and slowly slid up it, temporarily capturing the tiny featherlike receptors along the spine, he was unable to suppress the deep shudder that ran through him. Deep in his groin, he felt a liquid heat begin to spread.

"Nooo!" It came out as a breathy moan. The sensitized appendage was released, only to be caressed by a single word.

"Good."

He was suddenly pulled up as Gowron sat back on his heels, the arm and tentacles on Zasha's back supporting his weight. His legs were still spread over Gowron's own, the hard thighs pressing against him. The silken fabric of the ensemble he wore slid over the leather of Gowron's breeches, making sensual sounds as they shifted on the bed. The hand not supporting his back was free to pluck at the golden catches on the front, opening them slowly and deliberately to reveal the pale violet flesh beneath. Thick tentacles coiled around his abdomen, looping him in ropes of muscle. When one grazed a newly bared nipple, he felt his body jerk with the sensation.

Before Zasha could react further, he was dipped backwards, his back forced into an arch as his nipple was caught between teeth. He gripped desperately at thick forearms as his nipple was nipped and sucked aggressively, sending steady jolts to his cock. All thought of modesty left him as he bucked his hips, seeking to relieve some pressure as he rubbed against his larger mate. He was barely conscious of the cries he made.

One nipple was abandoned so the other could receive its own deserved attention. Seeking better leverage, Zasha wrapped his legs around the thick torso, barely able to lock his ankles together as he thrust his hips against Gowron. Jolt after electric jolt bolted from his chest to his groin, but still it was not enough.

"Gowron! Ahh...Please!" He didn't know what he was begging for, but he knew he needed it just the same.

With a hiss, he was released from Gowron's grasp. A mewl of frustration left his lips. Hands and tentacles, he wasn't sure which, moved quickly to divest him of his clothes, removing them carefully but quickly.

The sight of his own naked body, including his weeping erection, brought him a bit out of his wanton pleas. He snapped his legs closed, seeking to hide the evidence of his arousal as he turned his body away.

Creeping tendrils embraced him once more, pulling his naked body to the edge of the bed.

"You cannot hide from me." The voice was rough, spoken as Gowron knelt on the floor next to the bed.

"Wha-!"

His thighs were encased in those living ropes and steadily wrenched apart. All his strength was no match for those cords of muscle. His arms shot out, trying to cover himself, but they were also bound. He felt his face flush with embarrassment as his most intimate secrets were opened to Gowron's hot gaze.

Silence filled the room as Zasha struggled fruitlessly.

"TSSssssssss."

The sound of Gowron's long hiss drew Zasha's eyes to his face, but Gowron was too entranced to notice. Zasha only had time to gulp in air before he watched his entire shaft be engulfed.

"Nngh!"

It was a shock. Zasha felt his body arch of its own accord, drawing his head off the bed. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the unspeakably erotic sight of Gowron's lips wrapped around him. One of Gowron's large hands was wrapped around Zasha's thigh, his fingers sunk into the soft flesh. The other was sliding around the base of his shaft, sometimes squeezing, and sometimes stroking the small, soft tuft of hair that grew just above it. The grip on his legs and arms had loosened, now that the goal had been achieved.

Zasha found himself with his hands sliding onto his lover's head, his fingers slipping between writhing tentacles. The head in his hands rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a wicked tongue flickering and then twirling. His head fell back onto the bed, as endless moans escaped his lips.

A lone tentacle crept up his body, sliding past his navel, up the center of his chest, slithering along the edge of his jaw and wrapping around the base of one of his antennae. It began a slow ascent, sending waves of intense sensation through his body. By the time it had finished its upward stroke, the pressure in his groin reached its bursting point. With a shout of Gowron's name, his cock emptied itself into the hot mouth that encased it, his body jerking in time with each pulse of his cum.

Only after the waves of pleasure ceased was his sated member released. He lie on the bed, his thighs trembling as he gasped for air. Never had he felt or imagined such pleasure. Not giving him any time to think on this, his mate began to lick and nip his way up Zasha's prone body. Along the angle of his hip, up the soft curve of his belly, up to his pert nipple, tickling along his collarbone, tracing along his jaw, only to stop once it reached his open lips.

Zasha opened his mouth willingly, allowing Gowron to thrust deeply and sensuously. He could taste himself in the kiss, and it made him flush slightly with embarrassment, embarrassment and desire.

He was once again wrapped in tentacles; they secured his body to Gowron's own as he turned over. Now Zasha was lying on top of his much larger husband, wrapped in him completely and flush against his body, his legs caught between Gowron's own. His mouth was still being slowly devoured.

Lying like this, he could feel the length of Gowron's own need pressed against him. Still encased in the leather breeches, it rubbed along Zasha's captive thighs. Tentacles slithered, and he felt the breeches slipping lower. The press of leather was replaced by the press of skin. More tentacles wrapped around his thighs, winding into the soft junction, they squeezed firmly to allow space for the thick shaft to slide between them.

Gowron continued his invading kiss as his cock invaded the soft apex of Zasha's thighs, sliding wetly between them. The tentacles slid away, now wrapping around the outside of his thighs to prevent Zasha from releasing the pressure on the cock between his legs. Hands slid to his hips, and he found himself being slid along the expanse of muscled abs and chest, the silken shirt helping him to glide. With each slide, Gowron's cock rubbed along the sensitive sac and seam between Zasha's legs. The open shirt allowed him to be caressed by scaled skin.