by Hurri Cosmo
"Ahhh. I'm going to...to..." Joron screamed and his body jerked with the pulse of his powerful spasms.
Aric watched as Joron's member started spewing white, thick liquid onto the pillow and sheets below him, felt the spasms as they clenched his cock painfully with each pulse. It only took three more thrusts and Aric exploded again inside Joron. He shuddered with the force of his orgasm, bigger and harder than the one before. He forced his cock in deep and held it there until the powerful waves subsided. He finally let Joron drop to the bed. He reached up and untied his wrists and fell to his side, his breath coming fast.
He could feel a slight chill and realized he was covered in a light layer of sweat. He looked at Joron and saw he was shivering, though it appeared he was already deep asleep, or passed out. He rose and grabbed his shirt, which had been discarded earlier and cleaned both of them and the bed as best he could. Then he climbed back in beside Joron, grabbed the quilt, and pulled it up to cover them both.
Joron had surprised him again. He was quite demanding once he got going and Aric found that excited him more than anything ever had. He surprised himself with how excited he actually became twice. That had never happened before. Ever. He allowed sleep to creep up on him, knowing if for some reason Joron woke up and thought he could leave his bedroom, his men would not let him. As he drifted, he thought about the fact he believed one or two sessions with this Amar boy would satiate his desire for him, and though he was gratified for the moment, he was nowhere near satisfied. Even thinking about the kid this close to sleep and he could feel his manhood jump and twitch. It was obvious he would need to keep him in his bed a whole lot longer than one night to get him out of his system.
Chapter 10
She threw the ring at him and ran. He let the ring fall to the floor and ran after her because he thought at first she would fall down the stairs--she had been known to pull shit like that--but she didn't. He breathed a sigh of relief as he slowed his pursuit of her. He also knew she would need some time to cool down after her outburst. She never apologized. Aric was used to it. She would normally show her guilt in other ways, though. But when the front door opened and the winds of the storm blew in, his heart clenched. She was going outside? In this weather? In this darkness? No! Not here! Not on these grounds! All around this sea villa were sharp deadly drops right to the dark waters of the ocean. Abydell! No!
* * * *
Aric woke with a gasp, covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. Except for the glow from the fireplace it was still dark. It was still night.
Calm down.
He slowed his breathing, allowing himself to remember it was just another nightmare. Another heart-wrenching nightmare about that night. Nightmares he had thought had finally stopped.
Apparently not.
He reached for the man sleeping beside him and gathered him into his embrace. The man shivered, so Aric held him tighter. To his delight, Joron snuggled closer, too. He would not think about his dead wife. Not now. He had moved on. It wasn't fair that suddenly he should be reminded of that night.
The night she died.
Because of him...
No. It was all behind him now. He had already worked through all of that mental anguish what felt like a million times. She shouldn't be able to come back now. He knew exactly what would happen now. The same damn thing that always happened every time in the past this nightmare found its way into his life. He would lay awake, unable to stop shaking, his heart pounding in his head until it turned into a migraine.
But he found himself calming just by having Joron in his arms. Already his heart had slowed and he felt sleepy again. He also found himself getting aroused as well. He chuckled. Calm and aroused. Now there was a combination. There would be time. He would let the young man rest. He would have this man in his bed for as long as he wanted to now. Joron belonged to him, and the young man was just what he needed.
* * * *
Joron woke up with an intake of breath and sat up slowly, a dull throbbing pain radiated from his lower half, making the room spin. "Where..." Oh yes. He remembered.
And it was good. Oh, so good. This pain is proof it actually happened.
He looked around the large room. On the wall in front of him, a fire crackled merrily in a large fireplace. He felt the warmth radiating from it. To his left was a massive wardrobe, taking up nearly the whole expanse of the wall. The dark, ornate wood was a vivid contrast to the white stone walls. Looking to his right was the door leading out into the living area and on the wall the bed was on, two windows with wavy glass, sunshine pouring in. He wondered what time it was, since it was obviously well past dawn. He realized the king was gone and he seemed to be alone. Though part of him was relieved, another part of him felt lonely. He couldn't hear anything, no movement at all. He sighed, dreamily remembering strong arms around him in the night, warm breath on his head, a heavy leg trapping his own. He had snuggled into that warmth, feeling physically exhausted but satisfied and sated for the first time in his life.
Aric had done that. Joron smiled.
But he had to get up, get going. He slowly swung his feet over the side of the bed and hazarded rising to his feet. The pain was there but did not intensify and he said a silent prayer of thanks. He reached back to the bed, grabbed the top sheet, and wrapped it around his naked body, wishing he could take a bath. Not only did he also feel sweaty and sticky, but he thought it might help with the sweet pain as well. As if on cue, he heard noises coming from the living area outside the bedroom and suddenly two large guards muscled in a tub. They put it in the middle of the floor not occupied by the large bed and with a quick nod to Joron, they left. Then a number of women came, each carrying a large bucket of steaming water. In turn, they dumped their buckets into the tub and soon it was full. The last woman, smiling as sweet as honey, brought a towel and a bar of soap. She walked over to Joron and put them both in his hands and he struggled to take them but also hold onto his sheet. The woman chuckled as she tugged on the sheet.
"You don't have nothing I haven't seen before hundreds of times." She winked and left as well, closing the door to the bedroom as she did.
What did she mean by that? Granted she was old, probably had seen her share of naked men, but did she mean that or possibly the men who had paraded through this very bedroom? For a reason Joron knew meant certain trouble, his heart wrenched at that thought. He would be stupid to think he was the only one the king took to his bed. In fact, he had taken him barely knowing who he even was. This might even be one of many bedrooms the king had for himself, entertaining many men and women with his looks, charm, and force.
He closed his eyes. Though they'd only done it twice, despite the declaration made by the king last night they would do it many more times, his night of being a "bride" was over. He had urgent matters of his own to attend to. He had accomplished what he came to do--his sister was free. Though he had no idea how Diagus would react to this development, it was still time to go home. He would draw up the necessary paperwork about the pass to make it all official and send someone back with it for signatures and seals and whatever else needed to be done.
But he would allow himself the luxury of this hot bath first.
He let the sheet drop to the floor and walked the few steps to the tub. Stepping in, he cringed at the heat, then sighed as he sank into the water. It stung--it was so hot--but it also felt like heaven. He dunked his head under the water, rubbing his eyes and face when he resurfaced. He grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed himself, washing everywhere. As he touched certain areas he remembered the king's searing touches--his fingers, his tongue, his breath...
Damn.
All he had to do was think about that man, his body, his movements, his voice... He needed to force these thoughts from his mind. Thoughts like that would lead absolutely nowhere and the easiest way would be for him to get out of this tub, into his clothes, and out of this castle--not an easy task, as he remembered the long walk it took to arrive in this far off ro
om. He needed to remember he had his own kingdom to take care of and none of what he desired now was going to help.
Desired?
He rose quickly, stepping out of the tub, grabbing the towel and drying himself off as fast as he could, then looked for his clothes. Where were they? Gone? Well, not a surprise since he doubted they survived being ripped from his body the night before. Another insane image took over his mind of when those clothes came off--when he was held down and taken, entered, and claimed... He shivered. Since when did he ever want to be dominated?
He sighed.
He would simply find something else to wear. He walked to the large wardrobe against the far wall and opened one of the doors. As he hoped, it held the king's clothes. He pulled out a pair of black drawstring pants, pulling them on quickly. He would have to roll the pant legs up so he wouldn't trip on them but they would work.
Now for a shirt. He pulled out a tan tunic and slipped it on. Again, he would have to roll the sleeves and it hung nearly to his knees so he would not be able to tuck it in but it would have to do. He imagined he looked rather ridiculous but it was good enough. Now he needed his slippers. Again, they were nowhere in sight. They must have taken all of his clothes, including his slippers. What did that mean? Would they let him leave? What reason would they have to make him stay? He walked back to the wardrobe, opened it, and pulled out a pair of way too big black slippers. Now what? No problem. He grabbed two black fabric sashes, put the slippers on, then wrapped each with the sashes around his feet and ankles, effectively making the slippers stay on his feet, along with securing the roll of fabric of the pants. It was uncomfortable and a bit awkward, but it would work. The only real walking he would have to do would be from this room to his horse.
He was ready to go. Now he needed someone to guide him back to the main entrance and help him find the stables. If he was on the road soon, he might still be able to travel a few hours before nightfall. Of course, it depended on what time it actually was. He had a sinking feeling it was later then he wanted it to be.
After leaving the bedroom, he headed for the double doors that had first led into this chamber of the king. He was truly hoping there would be someone there to help him, but then he also thought it might actually be easier if there wasn't and he found his own way. Suddenly those double doors were opening and the king's assistant came in, followed by a man carrying a large tray. The sweet smell of food came with them and Joron saw the tray was laden with wonderful things to eat. The man set the tray down on a table with chairs sitting inside the room. Joron marveled at the fuss being made over him but at the same moment he realized he was very hungry. Motioning for Joron to sit, he noticed the assistant raising an eyebrow as his gaze took in Joron's attire.
"Good morning, your highness. I'm sure you're hungry. You were never given a chance to eat last night." The man had a knowing smirk as he watched Joron. "I also see you were able to find something to wear."
Joron's face reddened in embarrassment and he looked down to the floor. He remembered this man was present during the entire negotiations the night before. The man knew very well what had happened after he left. Joron murmured his thanks and hungrily looked over the tray, finally finding and choosing a cinnamon roll with icing. It was the first smell he identified when the tray entered the room. He sat and took a large bite, savoring the wonderful warm softness of it. It had to have been fresh out of the oven for it to taste like this.
Joron finished the roll and wiped his mouth on the cloth provided. He had to think it was one of the best he had ever tasted. He looked around the tray and though there were meats and fruits and cheeses, there were no more cinnamon rolls for him to take with him. It was just as well. He didn't want to be a glutton. He stood and TaParn stood with him.
"Will you show me to the stables and to my horse? I would like to travel a few hours into the journey home before nightfall." He looked back at the tray of food. "Maybe you would allow me to take a few provisions with me? I'm afraid I didn't bring enough to last me my journey back to Blade Rain."
TaParn looked stunned. "I...I'm sorry, but I can't do that..."
"Oh. Well...maybe one of your guards. Or if you are all too busy, please simply point in the right direction. I have imposed on you and your servants enough. I'm sure I'll find it."
"No, I mean...that's not it. The king...has left orders you are not to leave this room."
Joron saw him quickly motion toward one of the guards, who then swiftly left, closing the doors behind him. Joron was sure he was off to retrieve the king. The other guard, who remained in the room--a large man--stood with his hands clasped behind him right in front of the doors.
Joron's heart sank. Though at first he thought TaParn was being kind, like he imagined an older brother should be, he now realized he would become the enemy without hesitation. But the last thing he needed this morning was to have the king back in this room. His sex was already jumping.
"Look, you don't need to bother the king with this. He is a man busy with urgent matters, I am sure. But I also have urgent matters to attend to. This little game is now over. All players and pieces need to return to their proper places. For me, it's Blade Rain and my people." He sighed and sat back down. If he didn't present a threat, he might be able to make this man understand and help him. "My people count on me. You have to understand that. Maybe my brother will be a better king. It wouldn't take much, unfortunately, but until something like that happens, I have to make sure the people are taken care of. They count on me for food and supplies and even medicines. Most of our people are poor, due to having such a bad king for so long. I have made it a point over the last number of years to correct as many of those sins as I can. Please understand. I cannot rest for even a day. Let me go home."
TaParn sat as well. "Prince Joron, please wait and talk with King Aric. He's on his way shortly. You need to understand I will do what my king tells me to do, even if it means keeping you here. But also understand King Aric is a good man, a good king. He is hard and sometimes forceful, but never cruel. He does tend to take what he wants but he is fair and his judgments are sound. If you explain things to him clearly, he will listen."
Joron closed his eyes for a moment. What could possibly be the reason he would not be released? There was no longer any purpose for him here. It was futile to imagine the king thought anything of him past the pleasure they had shared last night. He reopened his eyes and looked at TaParn. "All right. I'll wait and speak with him since there's little else I can do at the moment. You said he was on his way?"
At that moment the king entered the room, his eyes scanning and immediately finding Joron. "TaParn, leave us, shut the door behind you."
The king's eyes never left Joron's, once finding them. TaParn immediately rose from his chair the second the king entered the room and nodded to him. When he heard his directive, he glanced at Joron, winked, and headed for the doors, motioning to the guard to follow him. Joron had also risen to his feet when the king came in. He now watched as the doors were once again shut with the two of them together alone. He found he was actually excited, a bit shy, and expectant.
None of that could be good.
* * * *
When Aric swept into the room, he was not expecting to have his breath taken away again by this man. Aric recognized his own clothes on Joron, obviously way too big for him, and it truly fascinated him. They made him look small and meek, though Aric knew better. A tiger lurked below the surface, but still, dressed like this, he looked more like he needed protection and shelter. Aric felt compelled to gather him in his arms and never let go. What was it about this young man that made him feel anything at all, much less so strongly this way? He swallowed hard and steeled himself to try to listen and not immediately take him into the bedroom.
Aric had not been far away, only down the hall, in fact. He had an office set up closer to his private rooms, simply for convenience. He had been trying to work, trying to pay attention to the documents he had been re
ading, but it had been useless. All he could think about, all his mind insisted on returning to no matter how hard he forced himself, was Joron. When his guard came in and told him Joron had dressed to leave, fear stabbed into his heart and visions of an empty room made him run, shoving the guard aside so hard he almost fell.
But Joron was still here. Aric took a deep breath and tried to calm his heart. Still here.
"I was told you wanted to leave. I thought we had an agreement." He kept his tone commanding but as soft as he could manage at the moment, his breath labored. It would do no good to scare the boy. "You now belong to me. Are you going back on the deal?"
He regretted the last words immediately upon saying them. He had no intention of allowing Joron to back out on the deal. To give voice to the possibility existing was not what he meant to do. Once again, fear stabbed his heart and his words escaped too harshly. "I will not allow it!"
Joron jumped a whole step backward, his eyes widening at the force of Aric's words. His eyes flew open, first in shock, possibly fear, then in anger. "I humbly beg your pardon, your majesty, but I do not belong to you! You couldn't possibly have meant that I truly was to be your bride. You have received free passage through Ice Dragon and I have no intention of going back on that deal. Besides, knowing my brother and his deals--and by your own admission--it is plentiful payment for releasing my sister. Now I need to go home."
Aric watched those eyes flash and realized he may never get enough of that alone. It wasn't that he enjoyed making the young man mad, it was simply he loved the fire that burned there when he truly became passionate. He felt it last night, too, when he shouted out, pleading and begging.
"You are not going anywhere except back into my bed. The deal was you would take your sister's place. Since I was going to marry her, you now live here. You are home. You belong to me. That, my dear prince, was the deal."
"What? What are you talking about? I can't stay here indefinitely. I have people who rely on me for their very lives. I can't stay here as your pretend bride." Obviously Joron was frustrated as he turned quickly away from Aric. Before he did though, Aric thought for sure he saw tears.
