The Barbarian (Tales of Aurelia, Book One) by Kelex

Author:Kelex
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ancient, anal, bdsm, bondage, dubious consent, anal play, flogging, forced seduction, public exhibition, toy use
Publisher: Twisted E-Publishing

Chapter Six

Antos re-read the last line of his message to King Hurclues for a third time. Struggling to focus on anything but the handsome male in the middle of his bed, Antos knew he should go, clear his head, do anything but write the rest of the letter. Strategy was key and the missive had to be written skillfully so as not to give away anything.

He needed to know why the king had gifted his son. It was a peculiar move on the king’s part, and Antos could not understand how the man could so easily hand his child over to the enemy. Were they so scared of the Jenai army they were willing to make such a sacrifice? Antos still worried his slave was simply a spy, or worse, Tengai had created a martyr in the boy.

Standing, he clasped his sword back to his hip and stormed from the tent and the scent of Bastyan’s flesh. The man’s taste was still on his lips as well, only making the need grow. Antos had not had a lover in some time, and when he had, he had not kept one like this. Warring across the land had not afforded him the luxury of keeping a sex slave, so he had slaked his lusts as he could, when he could. Now all he could think of was Bastyan and claiming the prince as his.

As he had knelt behind Bastyan, his cock pressed against the tight swirl of flesh, he had seen the look of need on the prince’s face. He had seen Bastyan’s lips move soundlessly, the permission he sought so close. To not get the avowal he wanted had been a physical pain, but what had he expected? It had been a day, and a day was not enough to get what he wanted. He was a patient man, although the prince tested that patience.

Bastyan excited him like none other. Antos was not sure what it was about the prince, but he was drawn like a moth to a flame. He was usually cool, calculated, not rushing to pierce the veil and slide into heaven. Mastering took time, patience, and composure. Antos had little of any of that when he was near Bastyan.

Antos walked along the main path between the tents, watching his men as they worked. Most worked on their weapons, sharpening blades. The heavy fall of the blacksmith’s hammer echoed around them. They had planned to remain here two days to recoup. Two had turned into nearly a week. They would have to wait nearly another to learn their king’s wish.

Would Rastia burn or would they form the alliance for their ships?

Antos was nearly ready to take the alliance, which was not like him at all. He trusted few. But if he tore Rastia down… what would Bastyan think of him?

What would Bastyan think of him?

Fuck! He was going soft in the head for the little prince. He growled, ready to put his fist through something or someone.

Bastyan was his slave and would except whatever came.

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