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“Az?”
The shadowsinger looked up from the paperwork that lay neatly scattered over the rich dark wood of the heavy desk. The corner of his mouth ticked up when his eyes were caught by glittering teal ones. He gathered the reports and pushed the pile to the side as Gwyn strode his way, his hands gripping her waist and lifting her onto the surface in front of him, her legs dangling between his knees.
“Hello, lovely Valkyrie. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Azriel allowed his scarred hands to skim over the soft fabric of the gown that hid her toned thighs. He quite enjoyed the sight of her in the dresses that hugged her arms and waist. Preferred it to the robes that she had worn when she was a priestess. But his favorite clothing of hers were pants - leathers, leggings, breeches. Anything that showed off her long, strong legs and firm, round ass.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about,” she started, musical voice tinkling like chimes in the wind. His hands continued their gentle exploration, tracing back and forth over her hips, stomach, and thighs. Azriel lifted a curious brow.
“Yes, love?” Her hands found their way into her lap, between his corded forearms. Her fidgeting fingers were his first sign of her uncertainty, confirmed by the light dusting of pink that bloomed under her freckles. “Come now, Gwyn. You know you can ask me anything. You need not be bashful with me.” The shadowsinger leaned back, fingers squeezing her knees gently as he looked up at her. He felt that spark in his chest as he fell into her stare, noting that his eyes hadn’t taken a moment to catch upon the mottled flesh that stretched over his knuckles. He was regarding them less and less, the relationship that had blossomed between himself and the irreverent warrior helping to seal away the sensations of ugliness and unworthiness that the sight of them used to evoke within him.
They had known they were mates for a few months. Azriel had been blown away when the bond snapped. He’d accepted that perhaps he wasn’t meant to have one, and had happily found himself hand-in-hand with the copper-haired priestess in the meantime. He’d had to learn a lot about relationships. About himself. About what it really meant to be in love, and the difference between that and infatuation. Gwyn’s friendship had been constant and unyielding, a beacon even when he thought his life had been too dark to be pierced by even the brightest light.
She had remained. Steadfast.
Even when he had been stubborn. Resentful. Hurtful. He’d been a cruel, heartless bastard at times. He’d pushed her away, fearful of the rejection he would inevitably face. But she was just as stubborn, and caring to a fault. She hadn’t accepted his excuses. His bullshit. Hadn’t accepted anything less than every piece of him. He was eternally grateful for that.
“I was wondering about… submission,” she explained, forcing herself not to break their eye contact. His own hazel eyes widened slightly as he exhaled slowly. This was… quite unexpected. He opened his mouth to respond, but Gwyn carried on. “I’ve read it in a few novels, and I find myself… a bit bewildered. The heroines are strong and fierce and independent, and it seems so at odds with the desire to submit to a male sexually.”
Azriel pondered in that moment if her inquisitive charm and bluntness would ever stop surprising him.
A chuckle bubbled from his lips, unsurprised at her confusion. Dominance and submission were easily misconstrued by even the most experienced individuals. Gwyn was far on the other end of the spectrum, though she expressed an eagerness to change that. It was a newer part of their relationship, an honor she had bestowed upon him with such bravery, love, and abandon. “What if I told you that submission is actually the truest form of power?”
She blinked down at him, face blank with disbelief. Azriel laughed before grabbing her hips and pulling her down onto his lap, her lovely thighs straddling his own. He wrapped his arms across the small of her back and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Nothing occurs in a relationship like that without enthusiastic consent on both sides. There are discussions - negotiations - about likes, dislikes, limits. Safe words are established to ensure that, should either party feel uncomfortable, the activity will stop immediately and without question or judgment. Sometimes there are also other signals to inform a partner that things are beginning to toe the line. The submissive holds all of the power in that situation. And all of that isn’t even including the emotional freedom and power it may bestow upon a person,” Azriel explained, letting his thumb trace small circles on her spine.
“Emotional freedom?” Gwyn asked softly. Her fingers had come to rest behind his neck, fingertips running over and through the hair at his nape.
“Well. Would you consider me strong and fierce and independent?” The shadowsinger knew the mistake of his question as soon as he asked it, a smug grin lighting the Valkyrie’s features.
“For the most part,” she conceded. She knew that, where she was concerned, he was about as feral as a puppy. The opposite of the fierce and intimidating spymaster. He rolled his eyes, earning a giggle.
“Anyway. You know how I am, Gwyn. I feel a lot of pressure to perform well in my duties. I place a great deal of that pressure upon myself, but I feel the weight of my responsibilities a great deal. When I have submitted, in the past, it is an opportunity to be in a situation where I know that I will be able to perform but the burden of the choices and leadership no longer fall to me.”
His mate tilted her head, regarding him with curiosity. “You… have been submissive?”
“I have been a number of things, love. Five hundred years of frustration and without a partner… I have experienced and done a great, great many things.” He stole the chance to kiss the tip of her nose when she rolled her eyes at him. “Now, may I ask you a question?”
Gwyn grinned at him, leaning in to steal a kiss of her own. A deeper, lingering union between them. “Of course,” she answered when they parted. The shadowsinger pushed a strand of copper behind an arched ear.
“How does it make you feel? Reading things like that?”
Heat rushed through his veins when her face flushed deep crimson. She was beautiful every second of every day, but Gods when she blushed like that. It did things to him. He felt desire coil deep in his belly, his leather breeches tightening with it. It was unlikely that she wouldn’t notice. It was nearly impossible to stifle his groan when she sucked her plump bottom lip between her teeth, nervousness painting her features.
“I… I like it. Quite a bit. That’s another thing I wanted to ask you.” The redhead shrugged and shifted her focus to his chest, avoiding his darkened, molten gaze. “It feels like perhaps it should be wrong for me to feel that way. For someone like me to enjoy something like that.” Azriel’s mouth ticked down.
“Someone like you?” He knew why she would say it, though it didn’t stop his heart from cracking. Regret flooded into him. It was still difficult not to berate himself for being too late to save her from the terror she’d experienced at Sangravah. Her lashes lowered, gaze moving to the floor, her uncertainty and shame washing over them both. He reached a hand back up to cup her cheek and lift her face back to him. “Gwyneth, my love. There is nothing off limits to you. Simply because you experienced something horrible. You are free to feel and desire whatever you wish. The greatest way to defeat those demons is to allow yourself to experience the things that you want, without shame. And there is no shame in finding your pleasure, Gwyn.”
Azriel pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as he continued to stare into those shimmering, beautiful eyes. Her hands slid around to cup his jaw, and he tipped his chin to capture her mouth, their tongues battling and exploring each other. They pulled apart, breathing hard. Her cheeks were still rosy, but the heat there was full of yearning and passion. Calloused thumbs caressed her freckles.
“I would do anything you asked, Gwyn. If this is something you want to try, we can plan everything down to the second - if that’s what you want. Whatever you want to explore. Anything and everything you want, my love. I will give it.”
The blush seemed to deepen, a shy, vibrant smile growing upon her lips. She knew as well as he that he could not deny her anything. She had him so completely smitten. “I think I would like to try. Maybe just a little at first,” she whispered, voice raspy at the thought. He couldn’t blame her. His own imagination was running wild, fantasizing about leading her to her pleasure in new delectable and toe-curling ways. “But I know that I am always safe with you. And that excites me… knowing that there is more to look forward to.”
Azriel’s heart seized in his chest at her frank words. Trusting him with sex was one thing. The day she’d allowed him to see her, to touch her skin, to taste her. It was one of the most world-shattering days of his life. Her confession that she felt so at-ease with him that she would be willing to allow him to dominate her… Shivers tremored down his spine. He kissed her again, promise and anticipation upon his lips.
“I love you so much,” he murmured. “Thank you for trusting me, Gwyn. It is an honor I will never take for granted.”
And as if to say ‘ I know’ , she buried her head in his neck, snuggling into his warmth. He chuckled softly, adjusting his arms around her to let his hands roam in comforting sweeps over her back, fingers occasionally playing with the spun copper of her hair. Even if their days were spent only like this, with her safe in his arms, he was content.