"What is that?"
The clearly non-seductive tone caught Culebra's attention first, and it took another moment for the words to register. "What is what?" he asked, but he knew the answer even as he finished asking the question. He held his tongue, lust fading beneath a deluge of dread. He'd been so distracted by the unexpected pleasure of Midori he had completely forgotten Midori had not yet encountered Ruisenor.
"Your snake by the fire," Midori said. "I have never seen anything like it. Never even heard of it. Is it venomous or a constrictor?"
"Both," Culebra replied. "Ruisenor is extremely venomous, but she never hurts anyone who does not try to kill me. I don't know what kind of snake she is, though I have often been told her kind has never been seen elsewhere."
"I have certainly never seen her kind. She's enormous. Simply incredible. She is as black as you are white, and her head is nearly as large as mine. I bet she's at least the length of two men. Wondrous, indeed."
Culebra relaxed slightly. "She is wondrous and very dear to me. But she is not the one I'm interested in bedding."
Midori gave another of those soft laughs Culebra loved to hear. It was rare anyone laughed like that in his presence—warm, maybe even fond. He listened as Midori closed the space between them, shivering when hands curled around his shoulders and a mouth covered his. Midori smelled and tasted of the sea, a scent that Culebra had loathed for months—and still hated, most of the time—but tasting it on Midori reminded him of all the reasons he'd once loved the sea.
Guilt nagged at him, but Culebra ruthlessly ignored it. He just wanted to remember what it was like to be wanted, to be desired. Granito was dead, and Dario gone; love had left with them. But the heat of another body against his drove back the despair, the black whispers that grew louder every day.
Culebra drew back and ran his hands down the smooth silk robe Midori wore until he came to the heavy sash. "Off," he ordered, smiling when that earned him another soft laugh.
He listened as Midori stepped back and began to remove his clothes, acutely aware of every whisper and rush of fabric, flicking his tongue out to taste the new scents on the air.
"Now you," Midori murmured, taking Culebra's wrist and lifting it to kiss his fingers before he set to work removing Culebra's clothes. He removed the small bits first, jewelry and cravat, shoes and stockings. Culebra had never been undressed with such care; with Granito and Dario it had always been eager hands and hungry mouths, clothes torn away to get quickly to hidden skin.
Midori pushed his jacket from his shoulders and then went to work on the buttons before pushing the shirt off as well. His mouth was hot where he pressed kisses to Culebra's shoulder and throat before he trailed them down slowly to close over one nipple. He swiped it with his tongue and teased with his teeth, making Culebra gasp and push into him, desperately seeking more.
He moaned when hands glided along his skin and settled at his hips and a wet, hot mouth closed over his cock, sucking with agonizing gentleness at the head. Culebra flailed for balance, finally settling for Midori's soft hair, urging him on, his groans filling the room as Midori finally obliged.
Long, so long since anyone had touched him. He had not even touched himself since Granito had died, had not done anything but walked around lost in misery. "Not going to last—"
To his dismay, the words provoked Midori into stopping, that hot, talented mouth slowly trailing its way back up Culebra's body to finally take his mouth in a hungry kiss. Culebra whimpered at the taste of himself in Midori's mouth, startled that he had forgotten just how drugging that could be. He dug his fingers into the firm muscles of Midori's upper arms, rubbing greedily against him as they ate at each other's mouths.
Eventually they parted, panting for air, the scent of sex drowning out every other smell in the room. "More," Culebra said. "Take me to bed."
"As you command," Midori said, and he guided Culebra the few steps over to the bed and laid him down gently upon it. That continued gentleness, the patience, was another stark reminder of the differences between his current lover and his past.
Not that he had any complaints for the tempest that had been Granito and Dario. He still ached to feel their rough, calloused hands on his skin, their hungry, biting mouths leaving marks that only they would ever see. But Midori's steadier approach was a slow burn that was no less consuming. It also made it easier to focus on Midori and not be too reminded of what he had lost. He drew Midori down on top of him, feasting on his mouth again, addicted to the flavor of him. Their cocks rubbed together, leaving slick trails on their skin, their gasps and moans mingling as they kept up the fevered kisses.
Finally Midori withdrew with a last, long lick of Culebra's mouth. He once again worked his way down Culebra's body, hands and mouth teasing his skin, working Culebra up to a mindless frenzy. He gripped the sheets, fisting them tightly, thrusting and writhing against Midori's taunting, breaths loud and heavy in the otherwise quiet room. "You're evil."
"So I have been told before," Midori murmured, pressing sucking kisses along Culebra's cock and then switching to nip at the soft inner skin of his thigh. Culebra whimpered when he abruptly withdrew. "You keep stopping, you slithering bastard."
Midori burst out laughing and pressed a kiss to Culebra's stomach as he teasingly stroked his cock. "Do you have any oil?"
"What—oh," Culebra said, annoyed with himself. He squirmed to a sitting position and turned around to crawl toward the bedside table—and nearly dropped the bottle of oil he pulled out of the drawer when Midori curved around him from behind, that wicked mouth sliding along his spine. He sucked on the back of Culebra's neck, cock rubbing against him in a promise of what was to come. "Here," he gasped out, thrusting the bottle backwards.
Taking it, Midori withdrew and settled Culebra on his back one more, pressing a soft, almost tender kiss to his cheek right below where the bandages ended. That, more than anything else, took Culebra's breath away. He took another kissed, combing through Midori's hair, still marveling at how soft it was, the thickness of it nothing like his own fine strands.
The smell of honeysuckle filled the room, and Culebra gasped as fingers teased at his entrance, touching him in a way that he had not been touched for entirely too long. It made him think—but he didn't want to think of them right then. His thoughts were only for Midori and his surprising gentleness, that evil, delicious patience.
When he finally pushed one finger inside, Culebra was trembling with desire, one hand tangled in the sheets again, the other reaching for Midori. One finger soon became two, and by the time he pushed a third in Culebra could take no more, thighs aching with the strain of holding still. "Enough," he gasped out. "Fuck me."
Midori let out a soft, ragged huff of laughter and withdrew his fingers. His hands, one smooth and dry, the other slick with oil, lifted his legs up to settle on Midori's shoulders. Then Midori's cock was finally pushing inside him, slowly at first, letting Culebra adjust. "I'm not going to break," Culebra bit out.
"As I well know," Midori said, finally pushing all the way inside. He leaned down, bending Culebra in half, and took a quick, sharp kiss. "I've never met anyone less likely to break. But fine things are meant to be savored."
"Savor harder," Culebra said.
"Yes, highness," Midori said, and nipped at his lip before rearing back and giving Culebra the hard, deep fucking he'd been craving from the moment Midori had first touched him and spoken to him.
He urged Midori on with ragged pleas and moans, digging his nails into those wonderful muscles, wishing he could see Midori's face, or stood a chance of understanding the descriptions given to him. But he couldn't, so he just focused on what he could have: the smells of sweat and musk and come, the way their skin slid together, Midori's hand wrapping around his cock and stroking him off hard, the way he fell apart as he finally came, and the distant roar of Midori's shouting his name as he slammed into Culebra one more time before coming.
Culebra whimpered when they finally stirred and Midori gingerly pulled out of his body, leaving a pleasant ache that Culebra had missed. He pressed a lazy kiss to Midori's chest, admiring how smooth it was. "Definitely worth getting in trouble tomorrow," he said, half the words overtaken by a yawn.
"Definitely," Midori agreed.
"Rest a bit, and I'll make it even more worthwhile," Culebra murmured and was asleep before he heard Midori's reply.
He woke up sweaty, but pleasantly so because it had been too long since he'd slept alongside another person. Midori mad a soft, snorting noise, but then settled. Culebra smiled, mapping Midori's body with his hands, marveling at the sleek muscle, the smooth skin. He mouthed his way down, snickering softly at the noises the still-sleeping Midori made.
By the time he reached Midori's cock, it was half-hard. Culebra licked the head and then sucked it in—right as a hand landed in his hair, gripping it firmly but not too lightly, and Midori let out a loud, very much awake groan.
Pleasure warmed Culebra to hear and feel such evidence of Midori's satisfaction. He bent to his task in earnest, the feel and taste of a cock in his mouth nearly as pleasant as the ache from their earlier fucking.
It didn't take long for Midori to come, and despite the ache in his jaw Culebra swallowed everything, licking away a few stray traces after pulling back. He gave a breathless yelp when he was abruptly shoved down on the bed, Midori's mouth dropping over his own cock so suddenly that Culebra couldn't hold back a shout.
He came within minutes, and it was several minutes more before he could gather the breath to speak. "We should ring for food, I feel."
Midori laughed, and Culebra felt the rush of cold air as he climbed out of bed. He listened as Midori padded across the room to the bell pull, and then to the thunk of wood being added to the fire followed by the spark and crackle as Midori stoked the flames. "Cold at all?" Midori asked.
"Not at the moment," Culebra said, and he slowly found the edge of the bed. He slid out of it and walked toward the fire, feet just brushing against the smooth, almost-hot coils of Ruisenor. "Hello, beauty," he said softly.
She replied with a soft hiss and rubbed against his leg, but did not stir from her position. Culebra smiled faintly. He felt Midori pressed up behind him and warm lips kiss his shoulder. "You're beautiful in firelight, Culebra."
"No doubt you are as well," Culebra replied, unable to keep the wistfulness from his voice.
Another kiss to his shoulder and then one behind his ear. "I have never been called ugly, it's true, but I am very much plain cotton to your silk."
Culebra swallowed at the description, the care it spoke of that Midori had thought of one he would understand. "I do not believe you." He turned around and slipped his arms around Midori's waist, pushed up on his toes to kiss him—
And froze at the knock on the door. He withdrew with a soft sigh and went to the foot of his bed, feeling out the dressing robe he had left there. Out in the sitting room, a servant had left what smelled like quite a bit of food. Culebra could not sort out all the flavors, though he did pick out the spicy fish soup he loved.
"I love this rice, the yellow of it," Midori said as he sat down. "Saffron is the spice, I think, that makes it so."
"The paella, you mean," Culebra said, humming in pleasure as he enjoyed a spoonful of broth that immediately made his lips tingle. "Very good, but this soup is my favorite."
Midori made a soft noise of agreement, and Culebra listened as he uncorked a bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses. He pressed one into Culebra's hand.
Culebra happily took a sip, enjoy the contrast of the sweet wine against the spicy soup. He went back to the soup, taking several bits before dabbing at his lips with a napkin and saying, "So you and your companions are here for several months, if I recall correctly. You should take a tour of some parts of Piedre while you are here."
"Only if you attend me, highness. Unless, of course, you do not enjoy such things."
"They're difficult, but it's far more difficult traveling abroad," Culebra said wryly. "However, it's harder to protect me beyond the palace, and I do not like to endanger other lives more than I must simply by existing."
Midori said nothing and Culebra tensed—but then a hand covered his own, squeezing lightly. "You're very brave and very kind," Midori said quietly.
The words hurt, because Granito and Dario had often said the very same thing in nearly that very same tone. Culebra gave a rough, shaky laugh. "Not so kind and not so brave. My desire to travel and be away from home cost me one lover, and without him I was not enough to keep the other. Killed one, drove the other way."
It wasn't until the sudden silence that he realized what he had revealed. Culebra was afraid to breathe and slowly withdrew his hand, trying to come up with the right words to brush the whole matter aside.
"I thought, and maybe I have always misunderstood, but were you not protected by brothers?"
"Yes," Culebra said tightly, balling his hands into fists in his lap, appetite ruined, the lingering lust buzzing beneath the surface gone. "They were brothers. They loved me and each other. We were three against the world. I understood them, they understood me." He stood up. "I—I understand if you prefer to be on your way, my lord."
Turning, he began to count steps to his room—and froze in surprise when a hand closed around his wrist, and Midori dragged him close, right up against that wonderfully-muscled chest. "I admit it is shocking news, but I have seen stranger in my travels. That aside, all know that the Faerie Queen, the Pegasus, and the Unicorn were lovers before they were Lost. If the gods can set a precedent of siblings who are also lovers, I do not see why their children cannot follow it. I am sorry the death of one lost you both."
Culebra opened his mouth, then closed it and could only tremble against Midori as the fear left him. Whatever he had expected from his careless admission, it was not acceptance. "You are quite compelling," he said eventually, soothed by Midori's easy caresses, the way the scent of them lingered on his skin. "I am very happy indeed you came to visit, though I'm sorry I can no longer call you Captain."
"For the first time I begin to think there is good reason to no longer be a captain," Midori said quietly. "Would you care to return to the table and finish eating?"
Shaking his head, Culebra finally, reluctantly, pushed away from Midori. "I'm feeling restless. Would you care to see my snakes?"
"I would be honored," Midori said and drew him back to steal a kiss. "Will I be rewarded for my fortitude?"
Culebra laughed. "Generously. No one since Granito and Dario has ever made it past the threshold."
"Well, I am made of sterner stuff than that," Midori said and led him back into the bedchamber.
Half an hour later, dressed and nervous, Culebra opened the door to the greenhouse and stepped inside. "Is there enough light for you?" he asked.
"Yes, the moon is quite bright," Midori replied. "By the storms, that is a lot of snakes. They really won't hurt me?"
Culebra stepped further into the room, then turned and extended a hand, terrified that Midori would not take it. "The snakes do as I say, and I promise that while they may get curious and explore, they'll never hurt you."
He almost laughed from relief when Midori took his hand and moved into the greenhouse. "They're truly incredible. I had no idea it was possible to have so many snakes—so many different snakes—in one place. I am fairly certain that some of these would gladly kill and even eat each other."
"Snakes always find their way to me, and they seem content here, from what I can sense of them. The greenroom is peaceful. Even the most dedicated assassin will not venture here to find me."
"Then they're not very good assassins," said a rough, smoky voice.
"What—" Culebra broke off as Midori let out a startled cry and fell to the floor, landing on Culebra's feet. "Midori!"
Rough hands grabbed him and clapped a rag over his mouth. Culebra struggled, but the fumes made him dizzy, made it hard to breathe. He threw his weight back, sending him and his captor toppling and then rolled away and ran deeper into the greenhouse.
The snakes—why weren't the snakes attacking? He could feel the hum of their feelings in the back of his mind, but they were dulled, as though the snakes were drugged somehow. Why hadn't he noticed sooner? Midori was a delicious distraction, but that was no excuse for being careless.
Now Midori might possibly be—
No. He could not think that. They'd just knocked him out.
Culebra met glass, the back wall of the greenroom, and spun around. "Who are you?"
"That is irrelevant," said the ragged voice. It reminded Culebra of the sound of broken glass, or a throat clogged with smoke. "You're immune to the dream wine, I'm impressed, highness. Come, now. Cooperate and it will all go much easier for you."
"Cooperate?" Culebra demanded. "To the depths of the earth with you and your cooperation!"
The intruder laughed and suddenly Culebra was pressed hard against the glass, a firm, leather-gloved hand squeezing his throat. "You have no choice, highness. Your man is out, and short of removing those bandages, you have no way to fight me. Let's try this again, shall we?"
Culebra tried to protest, but all he got out was a choked gasp before something hard and heavy slammed into his head and the world went dark.
He stirred briefly, shivering in the cold night air. His hands and feet were bound and to judge by the smell and feel, he'd been thrown over a saddle. Fear washed over him, the fear he had battled all his life: he could not see, did not know where he was, or what was around him. He did not know where to go, even pretending that he could get free.
He was lost and helpless, and if he could have, he would have cried. Everyone was afraid of him, and he never really understood why. Reincarnation of a god or not, he was a blind man easily defeated simply by leaving him in a strange location.
Slumping, Culebra let unconsciousness take him away again, half-hoping that he would never wake up.