What a King Wants
Page 4
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Darius said.
Phares regarded him with hooded eyes. “Have you never had a man before?”
Darius shook his head once, and Phares’s need grew. Not only was he going to have Darius, but he would be the first. If the night went the way he hoped it would, he would be his only.
“Take me in your mouth.”
Darius complied and Phares’s head went back in ecstasy. Gods, but his mouth was perfection. Apparently, so was his instinct.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Take your king.” He thrust his hard length farther into his mouth, aiming to have his aching flesh swallowed. “Take all of your king.”
His hand grasped the back of Darius’s neck, controlling the pace and the depth. The more he swallowed, the more Phares gave him. His hands grasping and his legs shaking, sweat beaded at his temples, failing to cool the inferno that threatened to engulf him.
Able to take no more, he pulled from Darius’s mouth, his release shooting from his cock in thick ropes, coating his lover’s chest.
Catching his breath, Phares fought for control of the wild beating in his chest. His large hand reached out, smearing his claim all over the well-defined chest. “You will wear my seed on your skin. I give you this honor, for you have pleased me greatly.”
“Yes, my king,” Darius murmured, his head bowed.
Phares bent at the waist, his hand leaving Darius’s chest to grab his erect cock. His hand, slick with his own seed, stroked the length. He thought about what pleasures he might derive from it later. For now, though, he was content to know that he’d marked what was his. He placed a kiss on Darius’s forehead, a wicked idea forming. “I had the reliant’s quarters prepared for you.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the red door. “You are to sleep there when you are not in my bed.”
“Phares?”
“Go there now. Sleep well.”
Darius reared back. “I…I do not understand.”
Phares smiled. “You made me wait days before you gave yourself to me. You can survive one night. In the morning, we can consider it a debt paid.”
“You’re punishing me?” Darius’s face was like thunder. “I am no plaything. You swore.”
Phares brushed his lips against his. “No, you are no plaything, and I am not punishing you. Consider it…anticipation.”
“And in the morning?”
“In the morning, you will come to me before first light, and I will show you all the ways to submit to your king.” He knew the gleam in his eyes must have matched the wickedness in his smile, for Darius’s face softened with understanding.
“Then I shall take my leave, my king.” He rose to his feet, his erect, throbbing cock bobbing tantalizingly in Phares’s face.
“You tempt me too much, reliant,” he growled.
Darius tsked. “This was of your own doing.” Whistling, he gathered up his clothing, not bothering to redress, and proudly wearing his lover’s spent seed, strode out of the room.
Chapter 6
Darius had gone to bed with an aching cock.
He’d briefly contemplated taking matters into his own hands, but Phares had caused such need, and so, Phares would be the one to relieve it.
Now, he was up before first light, just as instructed, and making his way through the door into the king’s chambers.
And running directly into a large, male chest.
“I could not wait a moment more,” Phares growled, grabbing Darius by the neck and pulling him in for a brutal kiss.
The brush of his beard, the feel of his muscled form, and the smoky scent of his skin all conspired to bring Darius to his knees. Only this time, Darius would get the release he’d been promised.
“I can smell myself on your skin,” Phares groaned once he’d broken the kiss. “Come,” he commanded, leading Darius to a small anteroom on the far side of the king’s bedchamber.
The room held mostly weapons —the king’s private collection-- but in the middle stood an ornate vanity table with a basin full of warm water. Beside it, towels and washcloths.
Phares soaked one of the cloths and brought it to Darius’s chest, wiping him clean of the king’s claim. He hoped he’d get another one.
“It pleases me that you slept with me on you. Did you touch yourself while you were covered in my seed?”
“No.”
“Truly?”
“Truly. It was not my own hand I desired.”
Phares grinned. “That also pleases me.”
He bit his lip to suppress his smile. “You have quite the massive…ego.”
Phares finished cleaning his chest, lingering a bit the lower his hand strayed. “Hmm, yes. I suppose it is a good thing I am king, then. I can do whatever I want.” His thick, calloused fingers clasped around Darius’s hardened length at the base and tugged roughly.
Fire erupted in his blood, bleeding out through bone and muscle to dance across his skin. He grunted, his hips canting into Phares’s touch. “Yes,” he hissed.
Proving that he could, indeed, do anything he wanted, Phares led Darius to the bed, quite literally, by his cock.
Darius found he didn’t mind. Phares had had control of his cock since that first day in the baths, it only seemed fitting that he steer him by it in the moment.
“Lie on your stomach.”
Darius put a knee to the bed, crawled toward the center, and sprawled out on his stomach. He felt Phares climb over him and shivered when the king’s beard tickled his back between his shoulder blades.
Phares placed a series of kisses down his spine until he reached Darius’s buttocks, where he teased the crease with the tip of his tongue. “I would have you here.”
Darius was in agreement with that sentiment, lifting his hips off the bed in offering.
Phares chuckled. “Not yet.” He slapped one cheek. “I must prepare you first.”
Darius felt Phares’s weight leave the bed only to return a moment later. His body thrummed with anticipation as he waited for whatever would come next. He’d never been with a man before, though having seen other men together, he knew how the mechanics worked. How he would feel with Phares’s thick length inside of him, though, he had no frame of reference other than his own fantasies.
He jolted when he felt something warm and wet slither down his lower back and in the crease between his cheeks. The scent of sandalwood filled the air as Phares’s hands slid through the oil that now coated his skin. He spread the oil, massaging Darius’s taut muscles, and lubricating the hole that would soon sheath him.
He tensed, apprehensive and excited. Grinding his hips into the bedding beneath him, he nearly found release just from the friction.
“If you reach your peak before I am ready for you to do so, there will be consequences,” Phares warned.
The constant buzzing beneath his skin that he always felt whenever Phares was near, intensified. He so badly wanted to please both his king and his would-be lover, but the sensations Phares was causing were enough to prompt an explosion. If he didn’t claim Darius soon, he feared he might lose control of his body. “Need you to hurry,” he grunted.
“Patience.”
The drawled warning did nothing to deter him as Darius lifted his hips from the bed, thrusting his rear end further into Phares’s hands.
Chuckling, Phares slapped him again. “My shy one is no longer quite so shy it seems. Very well.”
Darius felt Phares’s fingers probing his hole, stretching him.
“You must relax. If you force me to hurt you, I will be displeased.”
He smiled into the silks. “Well, I wouldn’t want to displease my king.”
“Indeed. The punishment for such a transgression is quite severe.”
“And you are a ruthless ruler,” he teased.
“On your knees,” Phares ordered, grabbing his hips and pulling them up off the bed.
Darius felt Phares shift behind him, his fingers delving deeper into his flesh, readying him for the
intrusion. He couldn’t help but flex the muscles there, begging for Phares to lay claim to the body that had already decided it would never know another.
His ring stretched, and Darius felt the tip of Phares’s cock breach the tight barrier. Hissing, he fought thrusting back and forcing Phares deeper, knowing that if he didn’t let Phares set the pace, he’d likely end up hurting himself and delaying any chance of once again being in this exact position.
But he struggled.
He struggled not to claim Phares the way Phares was claiming him.
Wholly. Without fear. Without hesitation.
Phares slid in to the hilt, filling Darius so fully, he wondered how he had ever lived any other way. Darius felt everything within him still. It was like he’d lived his life in chaos, always fighting, always questioning, never able to enjoy a moment of peace. And now, with Phares inside him, staking his claim, making him his, Darius felt free.
The way Phares’s hands gripped him, his fingers digging into his flesh, likely leaving marks, should have frightened him. He was tethered. Owned. He loved every second of it. And when Phares’s hand slid around his front, wrapping around his painfully erect cock, Darius almost howled with his surrender. Frantic now, he thrust back against Phares, urging him on, begging for anything Phares was willing to give.
Between Phares’s cock pounding inside him and his fist roughly stroking him, Darius was helpless to do anything but succumb to the greatest feeling he’d ever experienced. He flew apart, shouting with his release and preening with Phares’s praise.
“Yes, that’s it,” Phares hissed, slamming inside Darius twice more before finding his own release, which he celebrated with a roar that probably alerted half the palace occupants to their activities. “I thought you’d pleased me before,” he said, panting. “I was not prepared for…you.” He extricated himself and moved his weight off to the side.
Darius rolled over onto his back, shooting Phares a perplexed look.
Phares looked just as confused.
“What do you mean?”
The king took his hand and squeezed. “Very little surprises me anymore.” He frowned. “I was not expecting you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” He couldn’t help the vulnerability that crept into his voice and could have kicked himself for it. Showing his hand to the king of the realm was likely to leave him with a scar.
“No, not bad. Just…new.”
Darius swallowed, unable to say anything else. He knew how he felt, but it seemed Phares was still navigating his own feelings and their implications. He couldn’t fault him for it; he was king and Darius was just a servant. They were not equals. Darius had to remember his place.
And it wasn’t in the heart of a king.
“What are you thinking?”
He glanced at the man who still held his hand. “First meal,” he lied with a smirk.
Phares laughed. “Then we must feed you,” he declared. He planted a kiss on Darius’s shoulder and exited the bed, reaching for the bell that would summon a servant.
Darius dragged his sated body from the silks and regretted having been so eager to have Phares inside him that he’d neglected to put on any pants before leaving his chambers. He stood naked in the middle of the room unsure of what to do with himself.
He heard Phares instructing the servant to ensure there was extra sweet grains on their meal tray and decided it was a good time to get on with it.
“Where are you going?”
Darius kept walking, but he tossed over his shoulder, “I must dress. You have much to do today, and I cannot assist you if I am naked.”
He’d barely made it to the door when a large, hard body shoved him up against it. “Oh, I can think of plenty of ways you can assist me, reliant,” Phares purred in his ear. “All of them while naked.”
Sandwiched between Phares’s hard body and the door, Darius felt his cock twitch to life once more and mentally chided it. Stay down. “I fear you will get no work done, and the kingdom will suffer for it.”
“Do you try to dissuade me, reliant? I would have you wherever and whenever I wish.”
Darius smiled, enjoying their banter. “I would not dare try to sway you, my king. It’s not my place.”
Phares’s hands drifted over his ribs to his hips, gently pulling him back into his groin. “Oh, but, I’m beginning to think you could do just that.” With a kiss to his cheek and a slap to his ass, Phares left Darius at the door. “Dress if you must,” he lamented. “But make haste. First meal will be here soon, and I’m eager to feed you.”
Darius discovered shortly thereafter, when he was cleaning cream and the juices of various berries from his skin, the reason Phares had been eager to feed him. “You are wicked.” He smiled at his lover, no ire in his accusation.
“And insatiable,” Phares growled, nipping at Darius’s ear before leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw.
Darius laughed. “And also tempting. But we really must—“
His words were cut off by a pounding at the door, something that did not happen in the king’s private chambers unless it was an emergency. Both men stiffened with Phares unfreezing first.
“What?” he shouted, marching toward the door, his displeasure at being disturbed melding with his concern that something was indeed wrong.
“My king,” Claudio responded as the door was whipped open. “We have received news. There is talk of an uprising in Quellin.”
Darius finished pulling his shirt over his head and joined the men at the door just as Phares asked, “Talk? Or something more?”
Claudio’s jaw clenched. “Based on the intel, I’m inclined to believe we should be concerned.”
Phares studied his second-in-command for nary a second and must have seen what he needed. “Very well. Prepare the horses and have the second regiment ready to ride by the time I reach the courtyard. I must speak to my reliant.”
Claudio inclined his head and was gone.
“What do you need me to do?” Darius asked.
“Nothing.”
“But—“
“You will stay here,” he ordered, moving to the anteroom and donning his leathers before selecting his weapons and holstering them.
“I am your reliant,” Darius unnecessarily reminded him, though at the moment it felt like it was very necessary.
Phares invaded his space, bringing his face so close, their noses touched. “You are more than that, and therefore you. will. stay. here.” He emphasized his edict with a finger pointed at the stone floor.
Darius swallowed his irritation, though it went down bitter. “Yes, my king.”
With a hand at the back of his head, Phares pulled him in for a quick, brutal kiss. “I will come back to you.”
But Darius didn’t fear whether or not Phares would return.
He only feared why he was being left behind in the first place.
Chapter 7
Darius spent the morning helping the other servants in the palace with their chores.
Or, at least, he’d tried.
Now that he was reliant, they weren’t quite so welcoming to his presence. A small, paranoid part of him believed they knew he was now the king’s lover and were perhaps jealous. That annoyed him. He didn’t want to be treated any differently. He didn’t deserve to be, no matter whose favor he’d garnered.
Having already been shooed out of the kitchens, laundry facilities, and stables (twice), he’d given up and decided to head to the baths. Surely, he could make himself useful in his old post.
The hurried steps on the cobblestone courtyard were the only warning he had before a young boy of twelve or so narrowly missed barreling into him.
“Are you called Darius Thalinus?”
He looked down at the boy, reaching out to steady him when he rocked back on his feet. “I am.”
“This is for you.” The messenger shoved a folded scrap of parchment into his hand and ran off before Darius could question him. Looking down at the missive,
he read his name and current location in his sister’s familiar handwriting. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment as he strode toward the palace entrance, stopping in his tracks when he read his sister’s message.
Abruptly changing course, he entered the kitchens through the back and ignored the protests of the staff as he helped himself to a loaf of bread and a small wedge of cheese. He wrapped the food in linen and made his way to the stables. He had no right to commandeer one of the king’s horses, but that didn’t stop him from using what little clout he had.
“I am the king’s reliant,” he said with as much authority as he could muster when the stable hand balked, ultimately relenting and reluctantly allowing Darius to saddle a gelding.
Darius shoved his bread and cheese, and nothing else, into the saddlebag before mounting the horse and racing through the gates. The journey to Janabba was a day’s ride, and if what his sister’s letter said was true, he had no time to waste. He spared a moment to remember Phares’s order that he stay at the palace, but Phares wasn’t there, and Brinna needed him.
He thought of nothing but his sister and niece as he rode and hoped that he made it there in time.
“You didn’t have to come.” Brinna chided him, looking exhausted but never pausing in her quest to feed him a hot meal, shoving the pot of fish stew back over the fire after seasoning it for the third time.
“Yes, I did. I should have come sooner.” And he would have, had his sister told him of her troubles before now.
“I’m glad you’re here, Uncle Darius,” Calista whispered, eyes cast down, arms hugging her favorite dolly tight.
Darius clenched his jaw at his niece’s soft words and subdued manner. The last time he’d been home, she’d been her usual vibrant self. Full of curiosity and fearlessness. Her behavior now made it evident that much had changed in the time he’d been away. “I’ve missed you, shrimp,” he rasped, tugging on one of her blonde curls.
Her head snapped up, ocean blue eyes snapping with fire. “I’m not a shrimp!”