Far From Home One: The Warlord's Chosen-- A M/M Fantasy Romance

21- Beginning to Understand

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AMER—

With as much of a whirlwind as he had dragged us into his suite of rooms, took his pleasure with my body, and again granted me with pleasure I never would have thought possible, or expected from my master as a slave, he laid his lips gently against my forehead, pried himself from my sweat-soaked body, redressed himself, — although he only had to straighten his shirt and tie up his laces— and then knelt back beside the pile of furs I was still lying prone on. While he had remained almost fully dressed, only pulling his cock out of his trousers to penetrate me, he had completely undressed me. Down to my socks. The dichotomy of our states of dress was somehow... arousing, as I lay limp below him.

Despite still not really knowing my place in his life, or how my future would play out, that he had sought me out again pleased me. I had been so afraid I would be cast off once my compliance as Warprize was no longer needed. But his excitement and rushing through bringing himself pleasure with my body brought me hope he wanted me. Maybe not as I was finding I wanted him, but it was something. It had to be.

"Amer," he whispered gently, fingering my eyebrows, brushing strands of hair from my face. "Stay, alright? I'll send Ravi in to teach you Akari. Alright?"

I nodded, excited at how many words I had understood, and that even with a few words I couldn't place with confidence, the sentence had made sense. "Yes, Geir."

His smile was almost blinding and he kissed me fiercely before disappearing out the double doors.

I didn't even hear them lock behind him.

I stood on unsteady legs, feeling a little bow legged and stiff. Although he had been quicker, less methodically centered on learning every inch of my body like he had the first time, he had still taken the time to ensure I was ready for his body to invade mine. He had still given me pleasure to ensure his penetration was welcome, and hadn't hurt me. But his cock wasn't any smaller than it had been before, and I felt strangely empty. That was on top of the spend dripping down both my front and the backs of my legs.

I made my way over to the door deeper into the suite, and barely looked around as I then moved through the bedroom into an ensuite washroom. A large wash basin sat on one side, with a water pump just beside it. A handful of cloths were set beside the washbasin, and I wet one and had begun to clean myself up when I heard Ravi calling me from the outer sitting area.

"I'm in the washroom. I'll... I'll be a moment," I called out in half El'kahrian, half Akari. I didn't know the word for washroom, or a measurement of time. But I knew I needed to try to use Akari more, or I would never learn the language of my new people.

It was only as I thought on that, and finished cleaning myself up, blushing heavily as I noticed the many love bites on my neck and chest, even on my thighs and belly— I would really need to have a conversation with the Warlord about propriety and not leaving visible marks of our pleasure— that I realized I was naked as the day I was born.

And my clothes were thrown haphazardly around the sitting room.

Just as the thought entered my mind, Ravi coughed politely and I could almost hear the blush in his voice when he called out to me again.

"Warprize," he murmured, from closer to the washroom. Of course he would be the one to find the proof of my and the Warlord's release. He was possibly the only Akaran I had ever seen blush. And he did it often. Especially when Briggs was around, although the much-older, war-weary man didn't even seem to notice Ravi was there most of the time, the poor man.