So he turned to Jian Rui. He would rather ask Jian Rui for advice than Jian Ci. He jabbed the call button, the soft chime echoing in his sterile, empty workspace.
On the other side of the capital, in the opulent silence of the Imperial Lord's private chambers, the chime was an intrusion.
Jian Rui's head fell back, a sharp, sweet gasp tearing from his lips. He was astride Stannis, his body a perfect, sweat-slicked arc.
The public mask of cool authority on his face was gone, shattered into a thousand pieces of pure, unadulterated bliss. Stannis's hands were vise-tight on his hips, guiding the relentless, deep rhythm as Jian Rui fucked himself down onto the thick, hard cock filling him up.
The communicator buzzed again on the rumpled silk sheets.
"Ignore it," Stannis grunted, his voice a rough scrape against Jian Rui's ear.
