Sorcerer's Lover 2

Chapter 1 The coming night unsettled Benedict. The day had been a strange one. He’d felt anxious and uncertain. Benedict drew back the window covering and stared out at the dusk covered courtyard. His half-brother’s knights and other soldiers milled around, armed and ready for any conflict. Try as he might, Benedict could not make the gnawing emptiness go away. He’d been parted from the sorcerer, Warin, a fortnight now. His half-brother, the heir to the kingdom’s throne, made sure he was watched carefully, his every move scrutinized. “I cannot trust you, Benedict,” his brother had told him. “You have already attempted to reunite with this sorcerer once.” They’d nearly made good their escape together from the village Lowith on their way to York. Benedict had chosen an inn he knew had a secret passage. Once they’d departed the passage, though, Benedict’s brother had had men waiting. He hadn’t counted on that. They’d seized Benedict. He was grateful Warin had fled them, though with a small wound, blinding them with bright light before disappearing in a thick mist. The soldiers had searched, of course, but in vain. Now here, Benedict was kept prisoner by his own flesh and blood in this small room with only a bed, a wardrobe and two chairs. He could not go outside the castle without someone shadowing him, guarding him as though he were some helpless maiden. He did not know how being held captive by his family had been any better than being held for ransom by the sorcerer. In fact, he had wanted to stay with Warin at the end. Benedict clenched his fist and turned away from the sight of the soldiers. Somehow he had to escape this. Find Warin again. Alas, he was no magical sort himself and his knightly skills were no match for twenty soldiers. Some he could take out, but not all. And there appeared to be no one here on his side. He went to the door and twisted the handle, peering out into the hall. A heavily armed soldier appeared at the door immediately. “I beg your pardon, my lord Benedict, but your brother has ordered that you are to stay in for the rest of the night,” the man, who had several years and muscles on Benedict, said with an apologetic smile. Benedict tried to push aside his annoyance, but it was difficult. He would dearly love to strangle his elder brother just now. “What if I am wishing some sustenance from the kitchens?” “You have but to command me and I will see to it. Is there something you wish me to have fetched?” “No. No, there is nothing. What is your name?” “Gerard, my lord Benedict. I have been given the position of your personal guard.” The older man straightened, trying to look authoritative. “Ah, so that is the way of things is it. You are to follow me around like a lap dog, Gerard?” Gerard cleared his throat and nervously fingered his graying moustache. “I would not say that, my lord. I am just not to leave your side for the near future.” Benedict nodded. “The very definition of a lap dog. Very well, Gerard, I will retire for the night.” “As you wish. If there is anything you do need, just come out and tell me. I will be here.” Benedict gritted his teeth and closed the door of his chamber. He moved restlessly to the window again, looking out. Thick clouds hung in the sky, some reaching low to the ground to form mist. The air was heavy and damp. The tiny hairs on his neck rose suddenly. He turned sharply to face the room. His heartbeat flipped, then sped up. “Who’s there?” At first no answer followed his question, yet he felt a presence. “Hush, your highness,” a familiar voice whispered next to his ear. “Warin?” Lips pressed the pulse at his throat; teeth nipped. Benedict shook with instant, fiery need. His now-hard c**k pressed uncomfortably against his braies and hose. “Warin, say something, please.” “Shh, Benedict. It is I.” Invisible arms enwrapped him, pulling his body tight against a muscled torso. He felt Warin’s erection against his ass. Though he could not deny Warin’s magical powers frightened him, Benedict closed his eyes and gave himself up to his lover’s caress. “You must be very quiet, your highness. You do not wish to cause Gerard to come bursting in to your rescue.” Benedict nodded. “How is it you are here? How long have you been in the room?” “I am no ghost, Benedict, I cannot walk through walls. I entered when you opened the door to speak to yon guard. Your timing was fortuitous.” Warin kissed Benedict’s ear. “I arrived at your brother’s contemptible fortress this afternoon. I have been seeking a way to see you since.” “I prayed you were safe.” “Shh, I do not wish to waste our limited time together on words.” Warin pushed Benedict’s shirt up to under his arms, and his fingers stroked Benedict’s abdomen. He took the hint and removed the offending garment, tossing it on a small table beside the bed. “We are alone now,” Benedict whispered. “Can I not see you?” Warin’s mouth found his, a warm tongue parting Benedict’s lips, slipping between them. He moaned low. He felt himself being pushed toward the bed until his legs against it stopped further movement. “No,” Warin said. “Mayhap next time, your highness. Now, we must be very careful.” Warin’s hands tugged at the rest of his clothes. Benedict pushed away the unseen hands and quickly shed them himself. Warin turned him then, and pushed him onto his stomach. “Warin, please.” “Shh.” Hands pushed at his ass, spreading and kneading his cheeks. A tongue darted inside his hole, lapping at and saturating him there. He quaked and closed his eyes, feeling every sensation of Warin’s moist tongue. Cool, moistened fingers parted his ass and pushed into his entrance, stretching the opening. The cold fingers thrust in, probing. Benedict felt every push, every curl of the fingertips, stroking against that particular spot Warin knew drove him mad. Anticipation made him groan, but he stifled it by smashing his face into the coverings on the bed. The fingers withdrew and then Warin’s c**k slipped inside, pressing all the way in. Benedict bit his lip, wincing at the slight burn, despite all the preparation his lover had done. When the discomfort had passed, Benedict pushed up and out, thrusting back against his invisible lover. The need was fierce, the wait for this too long. He couldn’t hold back a ragged moan. Warin pounded into him, slamming harder with each pump. If it hurt just a bit, Benedict didn’t mind. The slight pain was worth the overwhelming pleasure. He already felt the tingling in his balls and he had not yet touched his c**k. His wrists were ensnared in tight grips, held above his head, pushing his face farther into the bed. With his wrists restrained, Benedict could not stroke his c**k, but the friction of it hitting and rubbing against the bed while Warin took him was enough. His release hit him, his c**k pouring out, his body quaking with it. Fingers dug into his hips, nails piercing there, but he didn’t mind. Warin’s thrusts had reached frantic pace. He knew his lover would empty within him soon. “Benedict,” Warin murmured hoarsely in his ear as he tensed and slammed into him a few more times. Then, Warin stilled, withdrawing from him. Benedict felt himself being turned and laid out on the bed fully, then drawn into two strong arms. Warin kissed him and he returned the kiss, fiercely. He knew Warin would leave soon and it pained him greatly. He did not want to weep like a maiden for her lover. “There, your highness, it will be all right soon. You will see,” Warin soothed, his lips brushing Benedict’s jaw. “I do not want you to leave.” “I must. But I will be back. For you. Always for you. Never fear. Only death can keep me away.” Benedict swallowed. “Do not speak of such things. It frightens me.” A loud rapping on the door startled Benedict. He sat up, his heart pounding rapidly. “What is it?” he asked. “It is Henry, brother. I wish to speak to you.” “One moment.” Benedict rose from the bed and grabbed up his clothing. He quickly dressed. He sensed, but dared not ask, that Warin had done the same and crossed the room to stand near the door. “Benedict?” His brother’s voice was deep and stern. “Yes, I am coming.” Benedict went to the heavy wooden door, unlatched it and opened it wide anticipating Warin fleeing through it. Henry, a good number of years older and no doubt wiser than himself, stood on the other side of the door gazing at him. His dark eyes were hooded and assessing. “Come in,” Benedict said, standing aside. Henry entered his chamber and shut the door. He turned to Benedict, fingering his neatly trimmed beard, his gaze darting around the room as though seeking something. Benedict’s stomach fluttered. “What is it, your highness?” “We are meeting privately, Benedict. There is no need to address me thusly.” Benedict bowed his head respectfully. “As you wish.” Henry moved around the room until he reached a small table and two chairs. “Come sit with me. I wish to speak to you.” “Aye.” Benedict sat in the chair opposite his half-brother. “You are comfortable enough here?” Benedict nodded. “It is a spacious room and the bed quite comfortable.” “Good, I would wish it so. I do not seek your discomfort. Nor your misery.” “Yet,” Benedict said, lowering his eyes, “you do seek to imprison me.” Henry’s lips curved. “I do not see it that way. That is why I have come to speak with you. I know you think I am trying to punish you.” “And you are not?” “Nay. I have had a long conversation with the king about your situation, Benedict. He agrees with me that for the time being your safety is of high concern.” “My safety? Is that how you justify it?” Henry stared coolly at Benedict in silence for a moment. “Careful, young one.” He spoke in low, measured tones, but it chilled him nonetheless. Benedict swallowed and bowed his head. “I am sorry, Henry.” Henry lifted Benedict’s chin and smiled. “I know you are, Benedict. You are a good, obedient brother. You have been unduly influenced by evil of late and harmed during your captivity.” Benedict opened his mouth to protest this, but the coldness in his brother’s gaze caused him to clamp it shut. “Both the king and I are intent on keeping you safe from further turmoil. It caused great pain to your father when you were abducted. He is quite fond of you, as am I.” “Aye, Henry.” Henry patted his hand. “Do not fear that you will be guarded for a long time. It will not be. Only until I am certain you are safe. Gerard has told me that you have not eaten this eve. Is that true?” “I was not hungry when the meal was brought up earlier.” “You must eat, Benedict. You must retain your strength. I will have food brought up when I leave. You are to eat every bite.” Benedict merely nodded. Henry rose and so did Benedict. “I will check on you frequently as duties allow, brother,” Henry promised. He walked to the door and opened it. He gestured to Gerard. “Aye, your highness?” “I wish a meal of mutton, soup, bread, and a tart brought to my brother at once.” “I will see to it.” Gerard turned and walked away. “Henry?” “Hmm?” “When will you determine I am safe?” Benedict made himself ask. Henry smiled. “When the sorcerer, Warin, is caught and executed, of course.”