**For those who like a little more smut in their smut, an alternate version of Chapter 4 from The Spaces After. Also works fine as a standalone.**
Seth wakes with the sun in his eyes. A thin shaft of light cuts through the stained glass windows, striking him full in the face; he squints and rolls over. Now the beam falls on the body asleep at his side, and Seth pauses to admire the sight. Dorian is lying on his stomach, one arm tucked up under his pillow, bedclothes pooled low around his hips. His back is a broad canvas of smooth, dark skin over toned muscle. It's a thing of beauty, and Seth can't help touching, fingers drifting appreciatively over the contours of his sleeping lover's body. He starts at the curve of the shoulder, tracing a path up and over the trapezoid and along the shoulder blade. Then he settles into the trough of Dorian's spine, following the trail down to where the swell of his backside begins, peeking tantalizingly above the sheets.
He's sublime, and the way that shaft of sunlight falls on him – it's as though the gods themselves are bidding Seth to appreciate their works.
Who is he to deny the gods?
He tugs gently at the sheets, sliding the crisp white linen over the generous curve of Dorian's backside with the reverence of a sculptor revealing his finest work. And it is art. Minstrels have written songs for less. Though he tries to hide it, timing his exercises for when his lover is elsewhere, Dorian puts a great deal of work into his body, and it shows. This is an arse you could bounce arrows off of, and Seth would defy any red-blooded male to gaze upon it unmoved. Certainly he's moved, stiffening beneath the sheets, and it's all he can do not to mount his lover then and there. It wouldn't be the first time he's woken Dorian in such a fashion, and he's never heard any complaints.
Seth has had his share of romantic partners. He's pretty and he knows it, and his natural reserve seems only to heighten his appeal, though he's not sure why. His lovers have always been beautiful, or seductive, or both. But no one has ever awakened his desire the way Dorian does. The jittering pulse. The shortness of breath. He can drive himself to distraction just daydreaming of Dorian's kiss. And that was before the man came to his bed. Before Dorian did things to him, things he'd never experienced before and didn't even know were possible. It has occasionally occurred to Seth that his betrothed might secretly be a desire demon. If so, he's completely fine with it – although a wiser man might be troubled by just how thoroughly he's wrapped around his lover's finger. It's not a position he's used to, and it's humbling, to say the least.
He's been staring a long time. The sun is rising fast, brushing that beautiful back in a warm copper glow. Seth can restrain himself no longer; he brings his mouth to Dorian's shoulder. The skin beneath his lips is soft and pampered, the scent spicy and unmistakably masculine. Seth presses another kiss below the first one, and another below that, each a little firmer than the one before. The tip of his tongue grazes his lover's skin, and at last the body beneath him stirs.
"Mmm." He stretches, flexing his shoulders; Seth can't help raking his teeth gently over the knotted flesh. Dorian arches his neck, inviting Seth to nip at the tender spot behind his ear. Then he rolls over, a smirk hitching one corner of his full mouth. "Good morning to you, Inquisitor."
There's more than a hint of amusement in his voice, but Seth is too caught up to be bothered, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Dorian's stomach. By the time he reaches his navel, Dorian is ready for him, hardness brushing against Seth's throat.
"It's going to be a good day," Dorian says with a contented sigh.
Seth continues his downward journey, nipping at the silky trail of hair leading from Dorian's navel to his groin. Dorian's arousal is hot and hard against his cheek, and it jumps eagerly when Seth kisses it. He teases a little longer, letting the anticipation build. Then he takes the tip of Dorian's cock into his mouth and suckles gently, enjoying the hitched breath it draws. He can feel the quiver of want as his lover tries to restrain himself from rolling his hips. Seth wants it too. Of course he does. Dorian's cock is flushed and thick and beautiful; how could he not want to suck it until it weeps? He grazes the tip of his tongue along the slit, swirling around each nub until the other man's breath is ragged. Then he takes his lover deep, and Dorian moans softly.
Seth rewards his appreciation with a little more pressure, a little more speed; he drags the back of his tongue heavily across the tip before opening his throat even more, eliciting a groan of pleasure and a whispered oath in Tevene. Seth is sucking hard now, wet sounds in rhythmic counterpoint with his lover's erratic breathing. Dorian's stomach muscles flex as he sits up, craning to look, drinking in the sight of Seth's mouth wrapped around his cock. He must like the view, because it draws a low note of bliss from his throat, and Seth gives him a good look, locking eyes with his lover and slowing down just enough to let him savour it. Dorian moans again, a sound perilously close to begging; he's nearing climax, mouth parted, dark brows knitted fiercely. His fingers are tangled in Seth's hair, working restlessly as he seeks an outlet for the tension. And now he can't restrain himself any longer, thrusting into Seth's mouth, gasping with need, his breath spiralling up and up until he lets out a strangled sound and bucks his hips. Hot spurts hit the back of Seth's throat, and he sucks one last time, drawing a shuddering cry on the knife's edge between pleasure and pain. He swirls his tongue just to hear Dorian whimper, and then he rolls onto his back, his stomach sticky with his own arousal.
There's a stretch of silence broken only by Dorian's ragged breathing. Desire demon he may be, but just now he's a quivering mess, and Seth is feeling rather good about it.
"Fasta vass," Dorian manages finally.
"A little out of breath, are we?"
Dorian is too shattered even to muster a rejoinder; he just lies there panting, dusky skin flushed and damp. He beckons feebly at his lover, and Seth crawls back up to him, letting his head be drawn down into a kiss. "That was magnificent," Dorian whispers. "You are magnificent."
"And I didn't need any fancy mage tricks," Seth points out.
Dorian narrows his eyes. Then he grabs the base of Seth's still-hard cock, and without any warning at all, sends a current of electricity from root to stem, convulsing everything below his navel in a violent spasm of ecstasy so intense that tears spring to his eyes. Seth bucks, gasps, and comes all over Dorian's stomach.
"Don't get smug, Inquisitor," Dorian says, letting his arm flop back to the bed as Seth slumps over him with a groan.
"No," Seth murmurs against his chest, still trembling with aftershocks. "No, I suppose not."