The King's Tale by Rowena Sudbury

Author:Rowena Sudbury [Sudbury, Rowena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 2012-03-18T23:07:02+00:00

The King’s Tale

134

“Aye, my lord,” Alain said. He bowed and turned to hurry away and complete

the king’s tasks. Christopher called to Sir Ranulf’s seneschal and gave him terse orders, then stood with his back to the fire and surveyed the activity in the hall. When Dafydd returned from the yard and headed for the stairway, Christopher followed.

The one and only stairway led directly to the solar. John had done what he

could to lessen the dankness of the room. A fire blazed in the hearth, and the reeds had been swept aside as they were none too fresh. The furs upon the bed had been replaced with the king’s own, and the meager meal sat on a table beside the door.

Dafydd stood before the hearth. Christopher nodded curtly to John and bade him remain beside the foot of the stairway until he was called.

Once the door was firmly shut, Christopher walked toward the bed. He yanked

the furs from the bed and piled them upon the floor behind where Dafydd stood. He stood so that he was facing Dafydd. The sounds of a hammer pounding on wood

wafted up from the courtyard below.

“Do you mean to hang him?” Dafydd asked quietly.

“Face me,” Christopher said.

When Dafydd had turned toward him, Christopher went to work on unhooking

his sword belt. He bent to lay it down on the floor behind him, then straightened up and yanked at Dafydd’s clothing, removing first jerkin, and then shirt. These he tossed behind him haphazardly. He deftly loosened chausses and breeches, letting them fall to the floor. For a brief moment he allowed a gentle touch over Dafydd’s flesh, and then commanded, “On your knees. Remove my boots.”

As Dafydd worked on the lacings of his boots, Christopher removed his sword,

jerkin, and shirt. He loosed the lacings of chausses and breeches, allowing them to fall over Dafydd’s hands as he worked. “Prepare yourself,” Christopher said as he kicked the boots aside. He turned and stalked to the bed to retrieve the pot of cream John had left there.

Dafydd stepped from the pool of chausses around his ankles, and knelt on

hands and knees. The gentle touch was gone; Christopher’s hands were rough on his skin now. He lowered down against the soft furs, eyes closed against the sudden intrusion of fingers. He closed his hands over the furs and braced as Christopher pulled his fingers free, lined up and drove inside with one hard thrust.

Heat and pain, overridden by lust and need. Dafydd’s knees scrapped over furs

and Christopher pushed against him from behind. Moans gathered low in his throat, intensified when Christopher bent over his back, reached beneath him, and closed his hand around his throbbing cock.

There was no need to hold back, and Christopher roared as he slammed his

body hard against Dafydd’s. He rocked against him long after the climax passed, at last bent down to press his lips against Dafydd’s shoulder. Gentler now he pressed him down against the furs, and positioned himself so that their foreheads touched, and their legs tangled together.

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