What a King Wants

by BJ Bentley

  The soapy water in front of him brought to mind other thoughts of the king. These were no less personal or intriguing, but they were certainly more inappropriate. Darius remembered the way the king looked during his bath, his golden skin glistening, his long, dark hair free of its usual braids and hanging down his back. The way the water seemed to want to cling to his skin and never let go, as if the king had commanded it there, and it didn’t dare disobey.

  Much like Darius could not disobey.

  He swallowed, his tongue thick in his dry mouth. His eyes drifted shut as he struggled to once again calm the erection that had sprung. He shouldn’t be having such thoughts of the king, but he could not erase the memory of the king pleasuring himself in the bath.

  All the while looking at Darius while Darius pretended not to notice.

  It was the most difficult thing Darius had ever done.

  He blew out a frustrated breath and opened his eyes. He resolved to scrub his clothes clean and go to bed. The longer he lingered, the more danger he was in of being found out. The hardness between his legs was glaringly obvious, and soon, the other servants would start to question why doing laundry was exciting him. Shaking his head at his wayward thoughts, he didn’t notice the other servants already darting glances at him.

  His laundry clean but wet, he made his way back to his room where he hung the linen garments on a wooden rack to dry. He undressed and climbed onto the narrow bed, throwing the thin blanket over his lower half. The bed was usually quite comfortable, but he struggled to find a position that suited him. His legs were slightly too long and his shoulders too wide. He wasn’t as big as the king, but he was larger than average.

  And he needed to stop thinking about the king.

  His growl of frustration echoed around the small room. He turned onto his side, bunching the pillow under his head. Determined to find sleep, he closed his eyes once more and tried to relax his muscles, starting at the top of his head and working his way down to his toes.

  Unfortunately, there was one muscle that refused to relax.

  Giving in, because there was no way around it, he wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and stroked it to the tip. He squeezed and spread some of the liquid from the head over his skin. Hissing between his teeth, he stroked back down, this time with a tighter grip. His abdominal muscles contracted as he struggled to rub himself to completion. The ache in his sack rivaled the strain in the rest of his body. He worked for the end, but it wouldn’t come. His hand moved faster, his grip stronger, his movements becoming rougher as he desperately reached for the pinnacle he couldn’t achieve.

  Like a flash, an image of Phares in the bath flooded his mind, and with a coarse shout, Darius emptied his seed over the side of the bed. He exhaled a shaky breath and cursed himself for being so weak. He’d resolved not to think of the king that way only to prove to himself that his body couldn’t be trusted.

  He tried to ignore that he’d done exactly what the king had done earlier.

  He feared that it was only a matter of time before what the other servants said came true.

  The king would call Darius to his bed.

  And Darius would be forever ruined.

  For there was no man as handsome, as powerful, and as ruthless as King Phares.

  And because Darius had loved him from afar for far too long, he knew his heart didn’t stand a chance when the king’s attention turned his way.

  Chapter 3

  Phares woke with the dawn the same as he did every day.

  Only this day, instead of hastily downing his breakfast and heading off to the training arena, he had other thoughts on his mind.

  “Another gilded day, my king!”

  Phares smirked at his second-in-command’s boisterous greeting. “Another gilded day, indeed,” he murmured. “Claudio, you are just the man I wished to see this morning.”

  “Truly?”

  “No, but you’ll do.”

  Claudio, dramatic as he was, clutched his chest over his heart. “You wound me, my king.”

  “Yes, well, before you retire to your bed to convalesce, I need you to do something for me.”

  Claudio’s expression turned serious. “Anything.”

  “There’s a new servant--“

  “Ahh.” Claudio’s smile returned along with a twinkle in his eye. “And my king’s bed is cold and lonely.”

  Phares shot him a narrow look but continued. “His name is Darius. He works in the bath. I want him brought to me. Now.”

  Claudio’s grin was mischievous. “Yes, my king,” he muttered, executing an exaggerated bow.

  Phares rolled his eyes and dismissed him with a grunt.

  With Claudio going about his task, Phares summoned back the servant who’d delivered his breakfast and requested that it be doubled.

  Hands clasped behind his back, he turned to one of the windows that overlooked the courtyard below. Many were already well invested in completing their morning chores. The walkways were being swept, the gardens were being tended, and the night guards were handing their duties off to the day guards and rushing off to their beds.

  He’d worked hard in his time as ruler to make sure that everything ran efficiently. He’d spent as much time strategizing the running of his kingdom as he had the battles that won it. The easier he made life for his subjects, the happier they were.

  And happy subjects didn’t revolt. That was something his mother had taught him. Keep the customers satisfied, as it were, and they would return the favor.

  It was a shame his mother hadn’t lived long enough to see just how Phares had applied that lesson.

  A shuffling sound brought his attention back to the room. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw that Claudio hadn’t wasted any time. Darius stood in the doorway to his chambers, his head bowed. Phares took his time looking him over, appreciating what he saw, his body ready to claim it.

  But first, he would do something he’d never done before. He’d…woo. He’d…charm.

  “Sit,” he commanded, indicating the table where one of the kitchen servants was laying an extra platter of food before scurrying off.

  Darius’s head lifted slowly, his eyes quickly taking in his surroundings before following the king’s order. “My king,” he murmured, both in acknowledgment and in gratitude for the invitation.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  Darius blinked. “I did.” His words were hesitant, but then he asked, “Did you?”

  It was Phares’s turn to blink in surprise. No one had ever inquired after his welfare before. No one had dared. He was the king; it was assumed that everything was done to his liking or heads would roll. “I...,” he began, unsure how much honesty was warranted. “It was restless,” he confessed with a frown. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

  “I am sorry to hear that, my king,” Darius said quietly, his earnestness something else Phares hadn’t anticipated.

  Phares searched the dark green eyes, eyes that were barely a shade lighter than the darkest forest. “You are, aren’t you?” he rasped, bewildered.

  “You maintain a thriving kingdom,” Darius said by way of explanation. “It is a lot for one man. It is no wonder you might…struggle…to quiet your mind.”

  Phares was not thinking of the kingdom now. No, he was too preoccupied devising ways to get his guest into his bed. “You’ll no longer be working in the baths.”

  “My king?” Darius’s question was panicked.

  “As of this moment, you are now my reliant.”

  Darius’s head jerked in surprise, likely because it was customary for every ruler to appoint someone as their reliant, a personal attendant, and yet, Phares had never done so. He didn’t need one, didn’t want one. Until now.

  It was also the highest honor in the household, an appointment given to only the most trusted of servants.

  “My king, with all due respect, I don’t think I--“

  “It is done.” Phares’s word was final. Law. There would be no
argument.

  “Yes, my king. Thank you.” Darius bowed his head once more.

  “Enough. You will no longer bow your head to me. I would rather have your eyes when you address me.”

  Darius raised his head, his throat rippling as he swallowed.

  “And you will call me Phares.”

  Darius’s wide eyes were pools of wild panic. “My king, I cannot—“ He stopped abruptly, choking on his words when he saw Phares’s face. “Yes, my k— Phares,” he finished on a ragged whisper.

  Phares returned his arched brow to its regular position, a small smile playing at his lips. The sound of his name on his new reliant’s lips brought a flood of warmth to his chest and a wave of lust to his groin. “Good. Now, eat.”

  Satisfied that his demands were being met, he relaxed. The platters of fresh fruit, yogurt, and sweetened grains covered the small table that was set relatively low to the ground. He and Darius occupied two chairs, each fashioned like a stool with a low back and a thickly padded cushion upholstered in plush, velvet-like material.

  He helped himself to a bowl of yogurt topped with fruit and honey, ignoring the sweetened grains. He noticed, however, the grains were the first thing Darius devoured. He would make sure there was an extra serving on tomorrow’s platter. They ate in silence, and when they were finished, Darius began collecting the dishes.

  “Leave them. The kitchen staff will fetch them.”

  “I do not mind.”

  Phares chuckled. “You are intent to argue each order you are given, are you not?”

  Darius dropped the platter in his hands. “My apologies, my king, I didn’t mean—“

  Phares waved off his apology. “It is nothing. I am just not used to being questioned. It’s almost refreshing,” he said, dryly. “And it is Phares,” he tacked on with a pointed look.

  “Of course. Phares.” Darius cast his eyes down before seeming to remember that he was no longer to do that either. “I’m afraid it will take some getting used to.”

  Phares shrugged. “To be expected, I suppose. I’ve never had a reliant, so this will be a new experience for both of us. I suspect we will learn a lot together. Habits. Likes and dislikes.” He licked his lips, his words dripping with innuendo. “What brings us pleasure. What does not.”

  “P-pleasure?”

  “Do you want to know what brings me pleasure, Darius?” Phares took a step in his direction, testing the waters, making sure he wouldn’t run.

  Sweat had broken out across Darius’s brow, the moisture bringing an enticing sheen to his skin. Phares felt an overwhelming and unexpected urge to lick it.

  When Darius did not answer except to nod, he continued. “You. I find you quite pleasing to look at.” He stepped closer, so close that they could share breath. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” he whispered.

  Darius’s tongue darted out to moisten his lips, gaining a growl of appreciation.

  Phares continued to invade his space.

  “I—“

  Phares continued to speak quietly, his lips just a hair’s breadth away from Darius’s mouth. “I saw you watching me in the bath.” He met Darius’s eyes, daring him to deny it, daring him to lie.

  “I saw you,” Darius admitted. “I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it.”

  “You’re drawn to me. Admit it.”

  Darius shivered, a tell that thrilled Phares, urging him to take what he wanted and make no apologies.

  “I can’t.” Darius’s pained reply perplexed the king.

  “You can.”

  “No.”

  Phares narrowed his eyes. “You deny this attraction?”

  “No. I do not deny this attraction. But I cannot act upon it. We cannot act upon it.”

  Phares’s smile was feral. “I am king. I can do anything.” His lips crashed into Darius’s, erasing all distance and sealing their fate.

  Darius emitted a muffled sound of surprise, and Phares took full advantage. He pushed his tongue into Darius’s mouth, tasting the faint sweetness of the grains he’d eaten and an earthiness that must have been pure Darius, for nothing else had ever tasted as good.

  Overcoming his initial shock, Darius met him stroke for stroke, taste for taste. They devoured each other until they were forced to part, gasping for air and finding that they had both gotten more than they bargained for.

  “You confound me,” Phares admitted. “How is it that you obsess me so?”

  Darius opened his mouth only to close it again. “I do not know how to answer that. Other than to say that you confound me as well.”

  “Then I suppose it is good that we have found each other.” He released Darius’s hair, where his fingers had been tangled. “Come, reliant. We have things to do this day.” He pivoted on a heel and strode from the room, smiling to himself when he felt Darius fall in step behind him.

  Chapter 4

  Darius had had only one single moment to himself the entire day, and that was when he’d had to relieve himself. The king —he still had difficulty referring to him by name, despite Phares’s insistence and their newfound intimacy— had kept Darius at his side from the moment they’d broken their fast together until now, nearly time for last meal.

  Now, Phares was meeting with one of his lieutenants and discussing an upcoming excursion to a neighboring town to oversee the rebuilding of a smithy that had recently burned to the ground. Darius was taking the opportunity to rest his aching feet and indulge in the ice-cold spring water provided to the men who were in the training arena.

  “So, Darius is it?”

  He looked up into the face of Phares’s second. “You know that since you were the one who fetched me from my quarters just his morning.”

  Claudio grinned. “True.” He sat down beside him. “I heard a rumor, Darius. Perhaps you will indulge me and inform me of its truthfulness.”

  Darius side-eyed the other man. He was attractive and charming, but he felt no interest stir. Apparently, the king held a monopoly on Darius’s libido. Still, he found he liked Claudio and his good nature. “If it is something I can divulge, I shall,” he said diplomatically.

  Claudio nodded. “Good. Already spoken like someone who has the king’s confidence.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean…I don’t…”

  “Relax, Darius. I approve.”

  Darius wasn’t so sure he should. “What is this rumor you wish confirmed or denied?”

  “Well,” Claudio murmured, leaning in and speaking conspiratorially. “I heard that you shared first meal with the king this morning.” He leaned back, eying Darius speculatively.

  “That is true.”

  Claudio’s brow furrowed. “Interesting.”

  “I take it that is something of which you do not approve.”

  “Oh, no, I think I do approve. I am just surprised. No one dines with the king. Not even me. And especially not a servant.”

  “I am his reliant,” he felt compelled to point out in his defense.

  “And I’m sure you are a worthy one. I meant no offense, Darius. It’s just that it’s something that’s simply not done.” Claudio smiled suddenly. “I think it’s…good. For him. He needs someone like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Someone who isn’t just a quick fuck.”

  “I’m not…we’re not…,” he sputtered, his eyes darting around in search of open ears. “We haven’t done that,” he hissed.

  Claudio eyed him, smirking. “You will,” he declared.

  “I am his reliant. Nothing more.”

  “You are his reliant he shared a meal with. A reliant given his position after only one other encounter with the king. A reliant who always has the king’s attention, even when the king should be otherwise engaged,” Claudio drawled, tilting his chin in Phares’s direction.

  Darius followed his line of sight and realized that the king was no longer talking to his lieutenant, though his lieutenant was talking to him. The king, it appeared, had his attention elsewhere. Darius
squirmed in his seat. “He stares,” he murmured.

  “As I said. You are more than his reliant.” Claudio suddenly turned serious. “I expect you to make him happy.”

  Darius blinked. He didn’t know what to say. Make the king happy? How was he to do that? What would happen to him if he failed? Worse, what would happen to his family if he failed?

  He could not fail.

  “I will do all that I can,” he promised.

  Claudio nodded once. “I look forward to it.” His sly grin was back but he was no longer paying any attention to Darius, his focus now on one of the female servants weaving her way through the crowd in the opposite direction of where they were sitting. With Claudio in hot pursuit of his prey, Darius stared into his tankard of water, contemplating the promise he’d just made and the ramifications of his words.

  He didn’t yet know all the responsibilities of a reliant. What, exactly, would be expected of him? Did his duties extend outside that of any other servant? Would he be expected to be at the king’s beck and call at all hours of the day and night? Or would he have time to himself? Would he be able to maintain his own routine of washing his clothing and keeping his living space tidy? He had too many questions and not enough answers.

  “You appear troubled.”

  His head snapped up at the low rumble.

  Phares towered over him, a furrow between his brow.

  Belatedly, Darius jumped to his feet. “My king. I am sorry. I was merely lost in thought, that is all.”

  “I would give all the gold in my personal coffers to know those thoughts,” he murmured, frowning as he looked into the distance.

  Perplexed by the king’s words, Darius said nothing.

  Phares drew in a deep breath. “Come. It is nearly time for last meal, and I would like a bath first.”

  Darius hastily set his tankard aside. “Yes, of course.” He was determined to be the best reliant he could be, but first, he needed information. “Am I to attend you, or has there been another servant assigned to the bathing chambers in my stead?”