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So, the big soldier can tolerate blood and mud and death, but not a lustful look from a cutie like me?
Aurelius sank deeper into the bath.
Yes, that was all it was. Some reaction to this stranger from strange lands, with his mysterious demeanor, his dark face, and his thick body.
The man truly had been a beast—bigger than any man he’d ever seen. So big and strong the prince could do whatever he wanted with him. So powerful he could throw him around, pin him down, force him to bend to his will.
Aurelius ran a hand down his narrow chest, trailing fingertips across his soft stomach until he arrived at his marble-hard cock. He rolled the foreskin back, sending tingles up his body. He let out little whimpers of relief for an urge he wasn’t aware he’d been neglecting.
He moved his free hand down his slender waist, running the line between his thighs and smooth balls until he arrived at his pink entrance. His finger circled it as he gripped his cock, teasing the sensitive area, pressing gently with one finger, then two, all without letting them inside. His hips bucked against his touch—anticipating the sensation that nowhere else could give him.
With the gentlest of force, his fingers slid in, their passage assisted by the buttery warmth of the water.
The feeling of fullness was intoxicating. He paused for a moment, relishing the sensation. When he could stand it no longer, he grazed up against his magic spot.
The pulse was more intense than he’d expected, forcing shocked cries from his lips. His toes curled as he fluttered his fingertips, first gently, then forcefully against his most sensitive place.
Again and again, he rang his bell, until they weren’t fingers inside him: they were Calix’s big, dominant cock. They were the insatiable horn of that scary bull—grabbing him by the shoulders, biting at his neck, leaving him completely unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think! Forcing him into submission! Using him. Taking what he wanted. Doing whatever he damn well wanted—too strong to resist.
Calix’s enormous arms gripped his chest, pulling him back into his hard, hairy body. Rutting against him like a crazed beast, stinking of sweat and sex.
The dark prince didn’t give a damn whether Aurelius was enjoying it or not. Whether he wanted it like this! He was taking whatever he needed. Taking what he deserved.
Deeper and harder the huge man fucked him.
Deeper and harder.
Deeper and harder!
Aurelius screamed as ropes shot from his cock, all up his chest and stomach. He shook hard as his whole body was wracked with pleasure.
Even after the shots subsided, the waves of rapture didn’t, forcing him to keep slamming his fingers inside himself, until he was a shaking, whimpering little mess.
After what felt like hours, he collapsed back into the warm embrace of the water. Despite the remnants of vigor running milky into the bath, the memories lingered still. If anything, he felt barely satiated, the desire still shimmering in his blood—an itch beneath his skin that could only truly be scratched by the real thing.
Aurelius sighed. It seemed the decision had been made for him.
It seemed he would be going to Ardora.
13
TEIGRA
Something was up.
In the days that followed, Mother was barely home. Even when she was, guests came banging on the door at all hours, sneaking off and exchanging hurried whispers in little side rooms. And unlike the usual pollen-sweet nature of Mother’s socializing, this felt different. She would return humming a cheery tune, only for a visitor’s news to send her into a fit of curses.
And all the while, Mother kept giving her these glances—like Teigra was a rug she was debating whether or not to buy.
The same thing was happening outside, too. One minute, Teigra would be tending the stables, only to glance up and find faces peering through the doorway, hurriedly departing when she noticed them. And not just any faces, but senators! The sort that only ever ventured below the stands to suck up to the centaur while they were getting their rubdowns.
At first, she dismissed it as paranoia. After all, why would anyone pay her special attention these days? But things only got worse once Aurelius was publicly proclaimed as herald. After that lavish ceremony in the Forum, it seemed everywhere she turned people were watching her. Noticing her. Judging her!
It was just like three years ago. Back when everyone was obsessed with the delicious tragedy of a daughter killing her own father.
On the fifth evening of this sickening strangeness, Mother dressed her and Jaronas in the finest clothing that had ever touched her skin—soft linen, so white and so clean it practically twinkled in the moonlight—with her hair tightly braided behind a band of golden owls.
It was a fitting symbol. For that night, they were to dine with Flurin Scipio, the Censor of the Senate. The most powerful person in the whole city, after the archon.
