Story: His Sweet Rose

[frogs_of_war]

I just found out I might be having to take control of Floral for almost half of next year for a month at a time. Scary and stressful, but better than my manager having to go out for surgery and if she's in the building, she's going to keep doing things that hurt her (like lifting things or holding her arms up). This info lead to an almost sleepless night and I'm still exhausted.

Title: His Sweet Rose
Length: 5.3k

Asla knew beautiful Iliev was across the square without looking up from his coffee. The grey clouds took on silver tones and the world became brighter. Plus the bustling and shouting of his bodyguards did nothing to conceal his presence.

Asla took another sip of his coffee and straightened his shoulders. He could face his temptation as he had so many times. He looked up. Iliev stood by a table outside a neighboring cafe, his finger running just inside his low neckline. He was gorgeous. And out of reach.


Iliev's brown eyes were bloodshot again. He must have been partying last night. Asla had stopped trying to find him. He was never at any of Wentreck's nightclubs. And he couldn't have traveled to any other city big enough for a decent nightclub and have been back already unless his guards had driven through the night. Unlikely.

Travel between towns was difficult. Only the Janavor name kept the city safe and Mr. Janavor's power didn't extend far beyond the little hamlets outside the city.

Besides Iliev was the "prince". His father kept his leash short. Maybe he'd partied at his family compound. Asla knew better than to go near that place.

Lovely Iliev touched his neck and licked his lips, his gaze locked with Asla's. Asla could feel his hands brush that pale skin and feel those lips on his. He ached for a taste or even a touch.

A body guard turned Iliev to the door as if he were a small child and not nearly grown. One more reason Asla could never have him.

Asla's own cousin was another. Janavor might hold the city in his grasp, but he was a newcomer to Wentreck's politics. Asla's grandfather had run the city a generation ago and but for a stray bullet, he might still be in power. Asla's cousin wanted his due. He was free to grasp it. Asla had spent the last two years removing himself from the family power base. If they needed him, they came, but they always had to ask and he could turn down any job for any reason. He no longer simply obeyed.

It had been a great deal of effort for no reward. Iliev, beautiful Iliev could never be his.

Asla and Iliev had spoken once, after years of standing attendance at meetings between the heads of their families. Iliev had slipped away from his ever-present guards and coaxed Asla behind a pillar with a single glance. Asla had wanted to touch him, to taste him. He still dreamed of it.

Iliev had offered. Asla acknowledged that Iliev was tempting, but was a few sweet minutes with Wentreck's prince worth the pain and torture Asla would be subjected to if Iliev's father or Asla's cousin found out about the rendezvous? Iliev had bit his perfect red lips and agreed, but stated he wouldn't always be prince.

Asla couldn't imagine beautiful Iliev with the city in his grip even less than he could imagine loving a man who could hold that power.

He had died inside that night and awoken with a sense of hopeless optimism.

Iliev would never be his, but not because of any failure on Asla's part.

-

Asla closed his eyes. The rain beating down on the roof was putting him to sleep. He'd read this page three times already. He turned off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness. The nice thing about having his own apartment, above a rarely open bookstore and far from the family's compound, was the freedom to sleep when he wanted.

A knock sounded at the door. Who could it be and why hadn't he heard anyone on the stairs?

He opened the door to a wet, bedraggled Iliev. He pulled Iliev inside and glanced out. No one was out on this miserable evening. He closed the door. Iliev was dripping on the carpet. "Asla, I…"

"Hush." Asla had so many questions, but now wasn't the time. He pressed a hand to Iliev's cold, wet back. "Take a shower. Warm up. Dry. Then we'll talk."

He showed Iliev to the bathroom off the bedroom. Iliev's teeth were chattering. He'd need some clothes. Something to sleep in probably. As long as no one had seen him. Please let no one have seen him.

The tattoo of many heavy feet beat on Asla's stairs. He quickly untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his socks and mussed his hair. Hopefully he'd look like he'd been in bed and whoever this was could be persuaded Asla knew nothing.

A heavy knock sounded on the door. Asla counted to ten then walked heavily from his room. Another knock sounded. He turned on a lamp. "I'm coming."

"Finally." Swanzor and his buddies. Just what Asla needed.

"We saw a light from your bedroom." Mallor at least looked sheepish that they were dripping all over Asla's carpet. "We had to come."

"Have you heard the news?" Gazianor shook his umbrella out the door then shut it behind him.

Swanzor grunted. "If he'd heard, he wouldn't have been sleeping."

"Just tell me." Asla's bare feet were getting wet and he hadn't even been in the rain. Would not taking their coats make them leave faster? No. It would just get his couches wet. He took the coats and let them drip onto his kitchen floor. "If your boots are muddy, leave them by the door."

"Picky, picky." Swanzor toes off his boots then plopped onto a couch. "Janavor's dead."

"What!"

"I told you he didn't know." Mallor whispered to Gazianor. "Zhivkor's looking to take the spot."

Asla's cousin. Asla sank onto the arm chair. "What happened?"

"A car accident, as far as we can tell, the accident being the only part in dispute."

And poor Iliev was alone in the bathroom. Did he know not to start the shower and give himself away?

Or maybe he didn't have to.

"Just a second." Asla stood.

"Why were you in bed so early?" Gazianor bounced like a puppy, but at least he hadn't sat down. His pants were wet to the thigh due to his cheap coat.

"I wasn't alone."

Mallor and Gazianor hooted. Swanzor frowned. "That little Petal you have on the side?"

"The very one." Asla stepped to the bedroom door. "He's waiting for me. Start some coffee."

Gazianor was in the kitchen by the time Asla shut the door behind him.

The door to the bathroom was closed. Asla tapped on it. It opened. Beautiful Iliev sat naked in the middle of the floor with his long, dark hair scattered in bunches around him. "I cut it off."

"I see." Asla pushed hair out of the way and knelt down. "Do you need help?"

Iliev looked even more petite this way. He was a little fairy prince dancing in the garden at sunset.

"I…" He shivered.

Asla wrapped a towel around him. "Take a shower. They," he nodded toward the living room, "think I've taken a lover, so it's safe."

Iliev scrambled to his feet. "You've taken a lover? I can leave."

"You." Asla drew him close. "Pretending to have a lover gets me out of social obligations. I pretended he was you. My little Petal."

Iliev relaxed again him. His skin was cold. He needed that hot shower and soon.

Asla kissed the top of Iliev's shorn head. It glittered blond and gold. "What?"

Iliev ducked his chin. "Father made me dye it."

Asla kissed his forehead. "You'll be a beautiful blond."

"And my eyes." He looked up at Asla. The red part wasn't half as red and the brown part was a deep, but vivid blue. "Contacts."

"I dreamed your eyes were blue once." And Asla had woken up with his heart pounding.

Iliev smiled and pulled Asla against him. "Am I safe here?"

"I'll keep you safe. Get in the shower and warm up. I'll get you some clothes. And take your time. These guys won't leave for a while, but you're my excuse not to have to go with them. Thank you."

"Thank you." Iliev kissed him. Just a peck, but that's all he needed.

-

Swanzor had to talk everything over and over, but no one would know what move to make until one of the big men moved. Gazianor and Mallor went out several times and come back with news. Iliev's guards were dead. People were scouring the streets looking for him. Some wanting to hide him, most wanting to keep him from attempting to take his father's place.

He didn't want to run the city, did he? Every report came back with more of Janavor's allies dead or defecting. Allied to an old boss was not a safe place to be, but this didn't sound like Zhivkor. He'd lost his father in the aftermath of his grandfather's death and was against unnecessary killing-or making enemies as he called it. One of his first acts as head of the family had been ruining the men who'd had his father shot. He'd probably wait out the chaos and take the prize from whoever was on top of the pile.

Please let the dust settle quickly. It was better for Asla and for Iliev.

The sky was lightening behind the heavy clouds. Asla need more coffee or sleep. And they used his whole can over the long, long night. He leaned back in the chair. "We can't do anymore tonight. Go home. To bed. We'll talk again tomorrow. Later today."

Getting the three gone took another half of forever, but finally Asla locked the door behind them and trudged off to bed. His carpet would never be the same.

Iliev was curled up on one side of the bed, but he looked up when Asla entered. "I didn't know which side was yours."

"Did you sleep?" Asla went in the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Some." Which was more than Asla, but not enough.

"Mind if I join you?"

Iliev pulled back the covers. Asla dropped his pants and shirt and got in. Iliev cuddled close. He'd warmed up. Asla kissed his ear, which had hoops in it Asla hadn't seen before. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been here earlier."

"You're here now." Iliev burrowed against him. "I can't believe I finally have you in a bed beside me and I'm just cuddling."

"Cuddling is good."

"But I want to make love to you."

"You have. You are. You came to me. Do you know how that makes me feel? I'm the king of the world. And the world is my tiny apartment with you in it."

Iliev turned his face to Asla's and kissed him. His body turned as he deepened the kiss. Asla's lover was in his arms. His dreams were coming true. He wanted nothing more than to revel in that fact. "How long will you stay?"

"With you? As long as you let me."

"What were your plans? When you came here?"

Iliev ran a hand up Asla's side. "Beg you to let me stay."

"Nothing else?"

Iliev sighed. "I kept a bag in the train station locker. Cheap clothes. Scissors. A bit of money. The earrings father wouldn't let me wear." He touched his ear. Six hoops stood out vividly from his pale skin. "My goal was to get here."

He had trusted Asla even with so little contact, so few words between them, and no promises.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you."

"How long can I stay?"

"Iliev, you're home."

Iliev kissed him again and didn't stop until several of Asla's dreams came true.

-

Asla didn't take Iliev out that day or the next. The new holes in Iliev's ears were still pink. Plus the city wasn't settled yet. He didn't want Iliev on the streets until he could be safe. Asla scattered everything Iliev had brought with him, including his boots, but that led to the problem of what Iliev was going to wear when he set foot outside for the first time.

Inside, Iliev wore Asla's clothes, but being seen outside in clothes that so obviously didn't fit might give Iliev away. Although Asla wasn't a giant of a man, Iliev was much smaller. Iliev had gotten his build from his mother, who for a few short years had been the Rose of Wentreck. She had been tiny and blond with eyes as blue as Iliev's and it was only after her death, when Iliev was three, that his eyes and hair darkened.

One of these days Swanzor was going to insist on meeting Asla's sweet Petal. They also needed to come up with a name.

"Ili." Iliev shrugged. "It's that nickname of half the girls in Wentreck. No one will notice one more. And I'm your Rose, not you Petal. It's not like I'm underage."

Barely. But Asla loved his spunk as well as his beauty. He coincided the point. "But for clothes…"

"You have an outfit for me." Iliev crossed his arms. "At least I assume it's for me. It better be for me, although I haven't worn a dress since I was two."

Asla licked his lips. "I did a favor for someone and his reward was any outfit in his sister's shop. She sold only women's clothes. He thought I wouldn't take him up on it, so I looked through the whole shop and this was the thing I could imagine you in best." It wasn't the white blouse and pleated skirt with matching vest Asla had fantasized over. It was the silky camisole and panties, the lacy garter belt and sheer stockings. "I've gone back several times. They have better stuff now, but it's never been worth it to shell out money for someone I could never have."

Iliev leaned against him. "I told you I wouldn't always be a prince."

Asla held him close. "You're the prince of my heart."

"The king. I'm the king of your heart." The he grinned. "And you're the king of mine. Let's try this on."

Iliev did and it was a good thing Asla didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

-

Swanzor grunted. "Where's your Petal? Shouldn't she be here enjoying the safety of Zhivkor's reign."

"He didn't have anything to wear." Asla had to rectify the clothing problem. Today maybe. Keeping Iliev hidden would make him too much the object of curiosity.

"Zhivkor increased you stipend, surely. And what Petal doesn't want to spend her man's money?"

"Today. He increased it today. We can go shopping tomorrow."

"This evening." Swanzor stood up. "Or better yet, right now."

Swanzor might be a pain, but he could read the street. His knowledge and friendship allowed Asla to be as free as he was.

"And get something for yourself." Swanzor grinned, which looked hideous on his face. "Matching maybe."

But where could Asla go for that where they wouldn't recognize their last prince? Back to the same women's shop? Even with this extra money, how could he afford everything Iliev needed?

-

Iliev stepped into the shop and eyed the merchandise. Asla sent him off to look. The shopkeeper grinned. "You finally brought her in."

"He thinks it's about time too."

"If she wants to try on anything. I have a room in the back."

"Thank you."

Iliev was so beautiful as he flitted around the room. He touched everything, but didn't show real interest until he found a black and red silk robe. He pulled it on over his blouse. "What do you think?"

He fluttered his eyelashes, which were painted on extra thick. His eyes looked so big with his hair a golden haze over his head.

"Is it long enough? Bend over."

Iliev tied the robe closed, turned his back, then bent over. Asla ran his hand over Iliev's ass and down to the hem. "It has to be long enough that nothing shows. I'm not sharing even a peek of you with anyone."

Iliev licked his lips. "Is it long enough?"

It was but Asla rubbed his ass twice more to make sure. He set the robe on the counter. "We'll take this."

The shopkeeper's smile widened. She had probably heard the gossip that Zhivkor was paying for today's spending spree. Asla wasn't looking forward to paying him back.

Iliev found a couple more things he liked, including black lace stockings while Asla asked about bespoke clothes for women. The shopkeeper knew about several shops, but one she only mentioned in passing because it did both men and women's clothes. And neither. Which might have been her way of saying people who dressed like Iliev.

But boots came first. Asla's choice of footwear hadn't been perfect. They fit in length without being floppy, but pinched Iliev's toes. He had started biting his lip. Asla had wanted to get boots first, but Iliev insisted that if Ili had picked out her boots, she wouldn't care how tight they were. And that gave him more time practicing being Ili before he had to make any big decisions.

Asla bowed to the greater authority.

By the time they got to a shoe shop and found a pair, Iliev confessed-out of anyone's earshot-that he wasn't sure if they fit or just fit better.

From there they went to the bespoke shop, where the shopkeeper didn't automatically 'she' Iliev. She asked and told her own pronoun. Iliev claimed he didn't care what he was called, but Asla wasn't sure if he was answering for himself or Ili.

This shop specialized in masculine clothing for women and feminine clothing for men, but for the right client, they'd do just about anything. Being the cousin of the new head man meant Asla was the right client. He ordered a suit for himself and a dozen outfits for Iliev.

Iliev looked over the selections. "I don't know what to wear when I meet my in-laws." He tittered. "In-laws. I never thought I'd say that."

"If we could all be so lucky." The shopkeeper gave Iliev a sad smile. "I wish you well."

Asla didn't want to be a role model. He didn't want to be looked at or noticed. He hated to put himself forward-making others come to him was much better, safer. But… "If my family is really as welcoming as they say they'll be… as head family… maybe things will change."

And the shopkeeper gave him the first real smile he'd seen today.

The shopkeeper worked with a cobbler who came by as Asla and Iliev waited for the first fitting of the outfit Iliev would wear to see his parents tomorrow. The cobbler had everything he needed on a cart and proceeded to make Iliev a beautiful pair of boots, which he promised would keep his feet dry and warm in any weather. And he made Iliev promise to never again wear the boots that had rubbed his feet raw.

He offered the idea of ordering clothes and shoes to be picked later in case the meeting of the in-laws didn't go as Iliev hoped. He'd had to go out on his own when his own Petal came into his life, but his parents had finally come around.

Asla could live with being ostracized, but could Iliev?

That night, with Iliev's feet soaking in salt water, as per the cobbler's instructions, Asla sat beside him. Keeping his hands off the beautiful body covered new pretty pink silk pajamas was effort, but he persevered. "You don't mind the clothes, do you?"

Iliev arched an eyebrow. "I didn't pick anything I didn't want."

"Not just Ili, right? You." They had decided between them that Iliev would pretend to be the kind of person who would be fine with taking forever to be introduced to Asla's friends. The kind that went to bed rather than see who was keeping Asla up all night. But Asla didn't want Iliev to be miserable even just the time it took for Ili to "bloom".

"I am Ili. Ili is me. I don't do anything I wouldn't do as Iliev. But I do some things I couldn't do as Young Master Janavor. Wear a skirt for example."

Asla rubbed his cheek on Iliev's shoulder. "At the Drangund summit."

"Yeah?"

"You were wearing those tight pants."

"Uh huh."

"They looked painted on."

"Hard to get into, but worth the effort. If only for the way you looked at me." Iliev grinned and kissed him. "But go on."

"You bent over."

"I did. With my back to you, I recall."

Asla remembered it in detail. "I decided at that moment, if you were ever mine, if I had the tiniest say in what you wore."

"If. Go on."

"That I'd never share that view with anyone."

Iliev laughed. "All yours?"

"All mine." Asla kissed Iliev's neck.

Iliev sighed. "I'm sitting here, with my feet in the water for a goodly long time yet and I'm bored. I wonder if there's anything we can do to rectify that."

Asla did his best while keeping Iliev's pajamas both on and dry and not lifting Iliev's feet from the water. It was some work, but worth the effort. Iliev lifted his feet from the now cold water and handed Asla the towel. "Dry me then carry me to bed. I seem to be very tired."

He yawned and pawed at his top, showing off several of the marks Asla had left there.

-

The shop had done such a terrific job that they had not just the one outfit done, but a three more waiting for their first fitting. Iliev left with all but one of those. They stopped by Asla's favorite cafe on the way back, Iliev wearing a suit skirt and jacket and a ruffly pale blue shirt that was a shade lighter than his eyes. Asla's mother had a suit very much like this that she wore when visiting acquaintances or managing fundraisers for his school. His mother had never looked half so well put together and assured. Iliev's hair showed up better inside, but the gold came out in the light through the clouds. He had a halo, edged with four times as many hoops than Asla had seen on anyone else.

His boots from yesterday were dark blue and matched the suit to perfection. They would also go with the blue dress for tonight. The cobbler had looked over Iliev's feet and proclaimed them better, but wouldn't make the dark brown and the copper boots until he was sure the swelling was gone. The bespoke shop decided to work on the blue tones first.

Asla set Iliev down in the chair at his favorite table and ordered them both coffee and pastries. Iliev was very careful with his clothes. But then he always was.

"I would sit here and dream you were beside me."

Iliev squeezed his hand. "What do dreams feel like when they come true?"

Asla kissed the back of Iliev's gloved hand. The blue was a little darker than the shirt, matching one of the flecks in the suit fabric. "It takes my breath away."

"Zhivkor!"

Everyone turned to look.

Iliev raised his brows.

Gazianor. Asla glared at him. "Please."

"Asla, yeah, Asla." Gazianor sat down without being asked. Swanzor needed to train him better. At least he took his hat off. Iliev was a lady, even though he was a man. "This is your Petal?"

"Ili, this is Gazianor, the one who left the kitchen so messy the other night. Gazianor, this is my Rose, Ili."

"Sorry, miss." Gazianor blushed and jumped to his feet. "She sure is pretty."

"He is."

"He. Ok. He's pretty."

Maybe Gazianor wasn't so bad after all.

Iliev smiled. "Gazianor, is it? Will you join us? Go get some coffee. We'll wait."

What was he thinking? Iliev just smiled. He spent two cups of coffee flirting gently with Gazianor, who had probably never been flirted with before. He blushed red several times. Then Iliev made him carry the bags home, which might have been the whole point.

Gazianor bounced on the steps. "Thank you, Miss Ili."

"And thank you."

Gazianor blushed. He ran down the stairs and across the street. He'd have a lot to tell Swanzor.

Iliev laughed. "A shower, I think."

He took off his jacket and stretched his arms.

"You should come in and wash my back." He opened his top button. "Or watch my ass. Whatever you prefer."

Hands on was best. Asla undid his tie.

But clothes had to be put away. Luckily the shop made that easy.

Iliev drew him into the bathroom. "You'll like my idea for the afternoon."

"Ok."

Iliev laughed. "You haven't even heard it yet. We shower and then take a nice long nap."

Asla was staring to get the idea. "After all that coffee?"

"We aren't going to sleep."

Yep.

"We'll get up to eat if we're hungry."

"You always make me hungry."

Iliev laughed again and dropped his chemise. He wore only the garter and stockings.

Asla ran his hands down Iliev's sides. "Must we shower first?"

"Convince me."

Asla did his best, which meant the shower came after food and before cuddles. He kissed Iliev's neck. "You're worried."

"If your family doesn't like me." He turned onto his stomach. "If you parents don't like me, what will you do?"

"I'll bring you home and sleep with you against me. Tonight, tomorrow. For eternity."

"But…"

Asla wanted his family to like Iliev. "I never imagined having the option. I knew I couldn't have you and my family. That's why I got this apartment."

Iliev cuddled back against Asla. "I would have never made it into the family compound."

"I know."

"I love you."

Asla buried his face in Iliev neck. "I thought I loved you when you caught my eye, standing behind your father while I tried to hide among my cousin's men. You were much too young-and a Janavor-but you had a place in my heart."

"You thought?"

"And then I thought I loved you when you eyed me and I felt naked in your gaze. You'd grown and I knew for the first time you wanted me as I wanted you."

"There's that thought again." Iliev rolled onto his back.

"And then when you spoke to me, I knew-I thought I knew-what love was. I saying no killed me. I thought you'd never look my way again."

"You'd thought about it. Reasoned it out and found me wanting."

"You are perfect."

"You beautiful man." Iliev kissed his forehead. "You only made me want you more."

"And all this waiting, making plans I thought could never come true, loving until my heart burst. Or so I thought."

Iliev rolled them over and looked down at Asla. "You thought? You only thought that you were in love with me?"

"I couldn't have been. Because if I was, what is this? Seeing you every day, knowing the kind of coffee you prefer, seeing you drink it. Watching you flirt with Gazianor, with your hand on my thigh. Seeing you asleep beside me, listening to your breath, your beating heart as I kiss you. Seeing you look at me and knowing there is no longer any reason that I can't walk up and talk to you."

"Kiss me?"

"Or kiss you." And he did. Time was running away and they would need to get up soon if they were going to be ready when the car came for them. But… "I know how you decided to act submissive."

"We. And to pretend to act submissive, which is an different thing entirely."

How? He'd figure that out later. "I just want to make sure that the pretend submissiveness doesn't go further than it has to."

"Oh."

"When you licked you lips at me across the crowded square…"

"How could I lick my lips at you?"

"You managed it. I felt it right here." He lifted his hips into Iliev's.

Iliev grinned. "I can feel it too."

"But when you looked at me, did you imagine I always wanted to be the aggressive one? You've asked me to, so I have…"

"I thought you wanted…" Iliev sat up.

"Oh." He smiled.

Asla propped himself up on an elbow. "We've spent so long dreaming and guessing what the other was like. I don't want us to waste our time pretending to be what we think the other wants. I'd really know what you were thinking."

Asla's alarm sounded. They had to get ready.

Iliev kissed him and promised him tonight, but dinner with the family lasted so long that they were forced to spend the night in the family compound with nephews and cousins in the neighboring rooms and small children knocking on doors with questions and comments until parents threatened to lock them in their rooms if they didn't stay in their beds.

Asla wasted no time getting his Iliev home in the morning.

His mother and sister were already planning the wedding, just as he feared. No one had minded Iliev's unusual looks. They gushed over his clothes and beauty and they all seemed to know Iliev was the reason Asla had moved from home so all hard feeling were forgiven. And even his cousin, who should have known Iliev on sight or at least by sound, welcomed him to the family.

Asla's stipend was doubled since his household was and so was the shopping spree. Asla's mother and aunt and sisters and cousins all had to shop for the wedding, so the next week was filled dawn to dusk with clothes and people trapping on Asla's carpet. Plus the place all the Zhivors were wed refused to hold this one, so the family had to pick a new place for all future weddings and funerals and christenings, which-of course-exploded into politics.

Asla reached his breaking point when his beautiful Iliev looked flustered from all the feeling being forced at him. He picked up Iliev, carried him into the bedroom, and locked the door. "If we're noisy enough do you think they'll take the hint?"

Iliev laughed and stepped closer. "I love you. Unbutton me."

Asla reached around Iliev and did just that.

Iliev slid his dress straps off his shoulders and the garment fell to the floor. "I've got something I've been meaning to tell you."

He tossed his slip after the dress.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe it would be better if I showed you."

"Please."

Iliev pulled Asla to the bed and knelt on it. He unbuttoned Asla's shirt. "Now when I was standing across the square as you drank your coffee, what was it, just weeks ago? I was considering what you'd look like tied to the bedposts."

Where was something like rope? A tie?

"Not tied tied. Just the suggestion of being tied. Your hands on the headboard with hankies wrapped loosely around them. Just enough to remind you to stay still. And you would stay still, even though you could easily get away, because you wanted to see what I would do. How I would touch you. Where I would go."

"Yes, please."

Iliev tossed him handkerchiefs from the drawer. Asla's hands shook as he tied them around the posts, checking to make sure his hands would easily slip in and out and that the knots stayed tight. "How do you want me?"

Iliev licked his lips.

"Naked?"

"Loosen it up. I'll do the rest."

That sounded wonderful.

When Asla was settled, Iliev crawled on top of him. "Ready?"

"Yes. Please."

And it was well worth the wait.