By eight in the evening, Ren had reached his limit. He had spent ten hours arguing with florists who insisted on "traditional white" and a calligrapher who couldn't seem to get the slant of the "B" in Blackwood right. His head was thumping, and his muscles felt like they had been replaced by lead.
Vane, of course, had been a constant shadow, offering "helpful" suggestions that mostly involved "Why don't we just buy the flower shop and fire everyone?"
Ren slipped away while Vane was distracted by a security brief from Elias. He stumbled into the master ensuite, the marble floors cool beneath his aching feet. He didn't want a master; he didn't want a consort's duties. He wanted hot water and silence.
He stripped off his clothes, letting them fall in a heap, and stepped into the massive walk-in shower. The steam began to rise, curling around his tired limbs like a shroud.
He leaned his forehead against the cool stone tile, letting the water wash away the scent of expensive paper and stress.
Then, the glass door hissed open.
Ren didn't even have to open his eyes to know who it was. The air in the shower changed—it became heavier, charged with a familiar, magnetic heat.
"I told you I wanted twenty minutes alone," Ren mumbled, his voice muffled by the spray.
Vane didn't say a word. He simply stepped into the stream behind him. His large, scarred hands found Ren's waist, pulling him back against a chest that felt like a wall of solid heat. Vane took the sponge from the rack, lathered it with sandalwood soap, and began to wash Ren's back with a slow, agonizingly thorough devotion.
"You were overworking yourself," Vane murmured, his breath hot against Ren's wet skin. "I don't like it when you're too tired to look at me.
"Then stop making the wedding so complicated," Ren sighed, though he found himself leaning back into Vane's strength.
"It's not the wedding that's complicated, Ren. It's the world. I just want it to be over so I can lock the doors and keep you here."
Ten minutes later, Ren was wrapped in a plush charcoal robe, his hair damp and smelling of cedar. He didn't even have the energy to dry it properly. He crawled onto the massive bed, the silk sheets feeling like heaven against his skin. He collapsed facedown into the pillows, his eyes fluttering shut the moment his head hit the down.
He was drifting into a blissful, dreamless sleep when the mattress dipped significantly.
A heavy, muscled weight pressed against his back. Vane's arm, thick and protective, slid around Ren's waist, pulling him flush against a body that was already radiating a restless energy. Vane didn't let him sleep.
He nuzzled the damp hair away from the nape of Ren's neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin right below his ear.
Ren let out a soft, tired groan. "Vane... please. I'm a zombie. I'm dead. I've been resurrected once already today."
Vane didn't listen. He began to trail a line of searing, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of Ren's shoulder, his hand sliding up under the robe to find the warmth of Ren's stomach.
"I'm horny, my love," Vane whispered, his voice a low, vibrating growl that sent a treacherous shiver straight to Ren's core.
Ren's face flushed a deep crimson, even in the darkened room. He tried to wiggle away, but Vane was like a mountain—immovable and possessive.
"You're always horny," Ren grumbled, though his voice lacked any real conviction.
"You have the stamina of a stallion and I have the stamina of a... a very tired hamster."
Vane chuckled, a dark, rich sound that vibrated through Ren's back. He bit gently on the tendon of Ren's neck, a silent claim.
"Then don't do anything. Just lay there. Let me take what I want. Let me remind you why we're doing all of this."
Ren turned his head slightly, looking back at Vane through half-closed eyes. The Master's obsidian eyes were blown wide, filled with a hunger that was as much about worship as it was about lust.
"You're so whipped," Ren whispered, his hand reaching back to tangle in Vane's hair.
"Utterly," Vane agreed, his hand moving lower, his touch turning from comforting to demanding. "Now, stay still, Little Bird. I've waited all day to have you without a clipboard in between us."
Ren let out one last, defeated sigh of pleasure as he gave in to the heat, realizing that as long as Vane Blackwood was his husband, he would probably never get a full night's sleep again. And as Vane's mouth found his, Ren decided he was perfectly okay with that.