Page 52 of Given

“You weren’t at the Sanctum today.” He’d spent most of the past week there, rising before dawn and returning to the palace well after midnight. He’d fallen into bed, dead to the world, space and silence on the mattress between us.

He unbuttoned his jacket. “You know where I was.” He shrugged out of the costly garment and let it drop to the floor. Then he went to work on his shirt. “You had men tailing me the moment Given and I left the city.” His shirt landed next to the jacket. “But our horses were faster. Your knights are slow in all that armor. I’m surprised you didn’t think of that.”

“Stupid of you to leave the palace without an escort. Foolish. Reckless.”

He held my gaze as he toed off his boots and reached for his laces. “Did it make you angry?” he asked, his voice low and silky. His skin glowed in the candlelight, his abs flexing as he worked his pants open.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with the Deepnight, or are we just never going to talk about it?”

He pushed his pants down his hips, and I braced myself for a nude Laurent. But that’s not what I got…

He wore the loincloth some knights wore to keep from chafing—a pouch that held his dick and balls. Except this was black leather instead of cloth. He must have had it made. The pouch hugged his cock and sack tight to his body, bundling him up. There was a wide leather strap around his waist. I knew if he turned, I’d see two more straps running under his taut buttocks. I’d see his whole ass available and framed in leather. An unmistakable invitation.

He came to me, all lean muscle and long lines. “Is that what you want to do, General? Talk?” He sank to his knees.

I sprang off the wall. In a quick tussle, I had him on his feet with one wrist pinned in the small of his back, our chests pressed together. I pulled his wrist up, forcing him onto his toes. He sucked in a quick, pained breath.

“You think it’s going to be that easy?” I growled. “You don’t speak to me all fucking week and now you show up with your ass out and think I’m going to fuck it?”

“Yes,” he hissed in my face, fangs fully descended. “That’s exactly what I think. Because you can’t get enough of my ass. Any chance you get you’re fingering it and eating it. Biting and fucking it. You want inside all the time, baby. You never stop thinking about all the things you want to do to it.”

I spun him and marched him to the bed. “The only thing I’m going to do to it right now is turn it red.” I shoved him down. When he tried to come back up, I climbed onto the mattress and put a knee between his shoulder blades. I leaned hard, giving him most of my weight. He squirmed on his stomach, one hand trapped beneath him. His face was in profile, his fangs bared and his face flushed. His ass was insane with the leather straps running under his cheeks. Round and tight. Two perfect globes begging to be split apart and fucked. He was right. I wanted inside.

“Spread your legs,” I ordered. When he didn’t immediately obey, I forced my hand between his thighs and squeezed his balls hard through the pouch.

“Ahh…fuck!” He moved his legs apart, showing me the shadow between his cheeks. A tantalizing glimpse of his tight, pink asshole.

“Wide.”

He splayed himself open.

“Not good enough.” I struck his ass, the sharp slap echoing off the stone walls. “Get your knees under you and stay wide.” I didn’t wait for him to comply. I rained blows while he scrambled to his knees and tilted his ass up. I continued hitting him when he got into position. I kept it up, wailing on his ass and staring hard at where the thin black straps met over his smooth taint. He grunted and then cried out, his puckered hole clenching with every blow. I put my shoulder into the swats, shoving his body forward each time my palm landed. Rocking him forward so the side of his face smashed deep into the featherbed and his muscled cheeks jiggled.

Soon he was yelling, his shouts and curses almost as loud as the smacks I delivered to his ass and thighs. He was a mouthy fucker in bed, and he gave me an earful, bitching and yelping and threatening retribution. I spanked his balls a few times, which shut him up. His skin turned pink, then red. His buttocks trembled and his grunts grew hoarse. Finally, he growled and craned his neck, trying to catch my eye. “Fuck you, you’ve made your point.” He flung a hand back, trying to cover his ass.

I snagged his wrist and pinned it below my knee, just a bit too high in the middle of his back.

A warning.

He made a tight sound, not quite a whimper. Because he couldn’t best me. I’d let him go if he really wanted it, but he’d never break my grip if I decided to keep him down. He had to trust I wouldn’t really hurt him. His surrender was part of the give and take between us.

I leaned over him. “Stop pretending you aren’t dying for this. All this whining and squealing would be a lot more convincing if you weren’t thrusting your hole at me like the filthiest whore on Gate Street.”

His voice scraped from his throat. “Want you to fuck me.”

I squeezed his wrist. “You don’t get to decide when that happens.”

He winced.

“Do you?” I prompted.

“No.”

“Who gets to decide?”

He swallowed. “You do.”

“Good boy.”

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