[FINISHED]One of the best known original m/m romances in Russia, loved by many. It won the Russian Wattys 2015 Award, now it's available in English too.
Alva Ahayrre is a Creedan nobleman and a courtier, a beautiful and frivolous redhead...
One evening, about two months after the end of the autumn campaign, Alva was returning from the King's chambers. He walked the length of the gallery that ran along the whole of the western wing. About half way through it, Kintaro leaned against a wall, arms crossed on his chest, waiting.
Alva had no doubt that Kintaro was there deliberately. The royal chambers were far behind Alva, and Kintaro's own quarters were in another wing. Without slowing down, Alva looked around. It was late, most lamps had gone out and the gallery was deserted. No point in calling for help. But Chevalier Ahayrre was a stranger to cowardice, and he had his sword. He sped up, wishing to get the unpleasantness over with.
Kintaro blocked his path. Before Chevalier Ahayrre could do anything, the Essanti gripped him by the waist, lifted him, and sat him up on a narrow window sill, standing now exactly between Alva's knees and pressing against Alva with his entire body. Alva tried to grab at his sword, but had to give up when the steely fingers gripped both his wrists.
Their eyes were almost level now, only a few inches apart. The young man tried to pull away, but he was backed up against a window, and Kintaro gripped his wrists a little tighter, reminding him who had the upper hand.
"What do you want?" Why did I ask that? Duh!
"You." The Essanti smiled and leaned over Alva.
Chevalier Ahayrre felt Kintaro's warm breath touch his lips. Kintaro's mouth was close to Alva's, teasing, not letting it become a kiss. Alva turned aside and the nomad kissed his neck below the ear.
Alva could not suppress a gasp of pleasure. Kintaro has learned a great deal about his body during the few nights they had shared. If this went on any longer, there would be no question of rape; Alva would plead to be taken. Chevalier Ahayrre knew himself well.
But, this time, he was sober, which made him less of an easy catch. Besides, his pride was piqued. This barbarian is totally yanking your chain, pal. Just looks at you and you are ready to roll over and beg.
"Let me go, now," said Alva firmly.
"Still haven't changed your mind?" purred Kintaro making his way down Alva's neck.
"Did you think I would?" Alva was trying to distract himself from surrendering to the rough lips exploring his skin.
"Don't you get it, that you were made to be mine? Don't fight it, my sweet, I know how much you want me."
No kidding. Hard to hide anything when he stands between your legs this way, that washboard midriff against your crotch. Alva tried to push Kintaro away and keep his legs closed, but suffered a sad defeat, and got turned on even more.
"You just can't handle losing, can you?" he said, tartly, pulling the shreds of his self-control together.
"Losing, really? I can do whatever I want with you now. Nobody will hear you cry and moan, northerner."
The bastard. I am putty in his hands, when he talks in this voice, when he kisses me like that ... Oh, hell!
"Lemme go ..." mumbled Alva, not even hoping to have an effect.
Unexpectedly, Kintaro released him. He lifted his head, smiled slightly, looking at Alva, and stepped back. He did let go of Alva's wrists, but moved his hands to Alva's hips instead.
"I won't force you, if that's what scares you."
"Isn't forcing people against the Essanti customs?"
"You'll be mine no matter what."
"No, Kintaro, never."
"Because of your elf?"
"Not just him. Many reasons. Circumstances. It could never work."
"Circumstances change."
The chief's unshakeable self-assurance stung Alva.
"What the hell? Why are you so fixed on me? You have screwed half the court, and still have not had enough?"
"It's you I want."
"Let it go, Kintaro. What about Princess Talliran? And here was me thinking you were over the Wild Steppe ways and into women now."
"I'd screw a sheep if she had red hair and green eyes." Kintaro was eloquence personified.
Princess Talliran's hair was rather chestnut-colored, but this was hardly the time for precision. Alva tried firmness, "You won't get me no matter what."
Kintaro merely shrugged. Evidently, he found Alva's protestations meaningless.
"I'll wait for a 'Yes,' Alva."
Alva. Not "northerner" or "sweet". Only now did Alva realize how rarely Kintaro had called him by his name and only now had his words held something ... something greater than lust.
The young man freed himself and left feeling the Essanti's gaze at his back. Since then, Kintaro never approached him, but Alva often caught Kintaro looking at him. He refused to think about himself and Kintaro. Whenever he tried, he got confused. He knew only one thing for certain: a Trianess noble should not get involved with a barbarian. Especially if the barbarian was the enemy of his beloved. Especially if the barbarian's touch made the noble lose his head.
Kintaro and Alva, fanart by Anna Valerius
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