What a King Wants Page 6

  Phares squeezed him to quiet him. “Do not do it again.”

  Darius planted a kiss on his king’s shoulder but did not answer.

  Phares pulled his head back to meet Darius’s eyes. “I would have your word.”

  Darius pursed his lips. “If Brinna needs me—“

  “If your sister needs you, you will tell me before you take off with nothing but the clothes on your back and a loaf of bread.” His voice rose as he spoke, daring Darius to defy him again.

  Darius relented, whether for self-preservation or to please Phares, he did not know nor did he care. All that mattered is that Darius would not put him in that predicament again.

  “I will not leave the palace without informing you of my intentions,” he promised.

  “And an armed guard.”

  Darius’s eyes widened at the unexpected provision. “Phares—“

  “If you are going to argue with me, I will warn you now, you will not win.”

  Darius had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Very well, my king.”

  Phares smirked, sliding his arms back around to Darius’s front and gently pushing him away. “Now, bathe me, reliant. I am in need of a very thorough washing.”

  This time, Darius smiled. “Indeed you are. You’re quite dirty.”

  “Filthy,” Phares agreed.

  And so Darius bathed his lover.

  Then they ate.

  Then they fucked.

  It was all as Phares declared it would be.

  Only, the morning would bring something neither of them saw coming.

  Chapter 9

  “There is nothing more I can do, my king.”

  Darius didn’t recognize the voice that spoke, but then again, everything sounded as if he was underwater. He fought to open his eyes, but one glimpse of light and he squeezed them shut again. Conversations were being had all around him, but he couldn’t make out many of the words, and the only voice he recognized sounded angry.

  No, furious.

  He tried to speak, but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He groaned in an attempt to make contact, but the room grew silent and he lost consciousness again.

  Why was his chest burning?

  Each breath felt like inhaling fire.

  The agony was unbearable.

  “I want them found, and I want them secured in the dungeons until I am ready to deal with them.”

  “You do not want them brought to you to deal with directly?” This was said with no small amount of surprise.

  “Justice will not come swiftly for them. They will suffer for their betrayal.”

  The venom in the promise sent a shiver down his spine, and if he could move, he would have sought shelter from the oncoming storm.

  “You found them?”

  “Yes, my king.”

  “Who is it? A servant?”

  “Yes, my king. But they didn’t act alone.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s…”

  “Spit it out, Claudio.”

  A sigh. “It’s Bhatten, my king.”

  Crash.

  Darius flinched, one of the few movements his body was still capable of. He wished he could open his eyes. He wanted to see the man whose voice he’d been hearing, livid and rough during the day but soft and loving in the nights. He wished he could remember how he came to be frozen in this bed, but more than anything he wished he could rise from it.

  Another crash followed by vulgar curses set his teeth on edge.

  The storm had arrived, and no one was prepared for the onslaught.

  A coughing fit brought him back to reality.

  “Breathe, my heart. Just breathe.”

  Darius caught his breath and cracked open an eye. Finding Phares sitting on the edge of the bed, his face pinched with concern, Darius’s hand reached for him of its own volition.

  Phares crawled across the expanse and pulled Darius into his arms. “That is twice in two days, you have given my heart cause to stop beating.”

  Darius buried his face in Phares’s neck, inhaling his dark scent and letting it infuse him with the comfort he sought. “I am sorry,” he croaked.

  Phares tightened his grip. “No. The ones who have done this to you will be sorry. I will see to it.”

  “What happened?”

  Phares tipped his head down. “You do not remember?”

  Did he remember? Darius waded through his muddled memories, searching for the ones that might shed some light on how he ended up as a temporary invalid. “I remember you leaving to meet with your generals. I remember going to the laundry. I had several sets of clothing to wash. I remember that it was empty, the laundry staff had not yet arrived with the previous day’s linens. I filled a tub with fresh water and set about washing my clothing—“

  He stopped abruptly, wrestling with the memory of what came next.

  Phares must have sensed his trauma for he pulled him even closer and tangled his legs with his. “Tell me,” he ordered, softly. “They cannot hurt you now.”

  Darius swallowed, his throat feeling like he’d swallowed glass. “Someone shoved me. From behind. I never saw their face. But I remember being underwater.” He closed his eyes, willing the tears that pooled to keep from spilling over. The force of what happened slammed into him all at once. His head had been submerged. He couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard he fought. No matter how hard he struggled to free himself. His attacker had had strength and the element of surprise on their side.

  Darius had only had his misplaced trust in his surroundings. He’d been a fool. Brinna had been right. Being at the king’s side made him a target.

  Phares began rubbing his back in a soothing, circular motion. “I swear they will never get near you again.”

  “You caught them?”

  “I am already making plans for their execution.”

  “Why? Why did they do it?” He was afraid of the answer he already knew was coming.

  Phares inhaled deeply. “Revenge. Bhatten took offense when I punished him for his greed. I took from him, so he sought to take from me.”

  There it was. Confirmation that falling into the king’s bed was a very dangerous game indeed. Not only was his heart in danger, so was his life.

  “His mistake,” Phares continued. “To come for the one thing I hold above all else.”

  “What did you say?” he whispered, unsure he was understanding correctly.

  “He could have come for my gold. For my throne. For my very life. None of that is worth what I have found in you, Darius.”

  Darius wondered if he was still underwater for he was not sure he could trust his ears. “You cannot mean that.”

  Phares removed his arms from around Darius’s shoulders to cradle his jaw, bringing them face-to-face. “I assure you, I’ve never meant anything more.”

  “B-but, you are king!” he hissed. “I am no one. You cannot mean that my life holds more value than that of your kingdom!”

  Phares’s grip on his face tightened, commanding his undivided attention. “I would burn all of Khalan to the ground rather than lose you.”

  Darius shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. Panic bubbled in his chest, fear motivating his next words. “No. You cannot mean that. You do not mean that.” He began to struggle against Phares’s hold, pushing, pulling to free himself.

  Phares did not let him. Instead, the king rolled over Darius’s body, pinning him down in the silks. “Stop, Darius,” he urged. “Stop!” he snapped when Darius did not heed him. “Give me your eyes,” he ordered. When he had them, he spoke. “You have something that no one has ever had. The only thing I have never given away. The only thing I have that is of any consequence. Darius, you have my heart. More than that, you have my very soul.”

  Darius let the impassioned declaration wash over him and felt his fear begin to subside.

  Phares continued. “You cannot know what it means to be king of a land where everyone either wants to fuck you or kill you, but
nobody cares to get to know you. In you, Darius, I have found someone who sees me for me. Phares. A man. Not just a king. It is not just my body I give you when we lie together. I give you everything I am.” Phares began to look uncertain. It was a look Darius did not like to see on his face. “Tell me you want that. Tell me I am enough for you.”

  Darius could not abide the vulnerability in his king’s eyes. The man was laying himself bare. He was his for the taking. And despite the danger being the king’s lover presented, Darius could not find it in himself to put his life above that of Phares.

  The man he loved.

  “You are more than enough,” he rasped. “More than I deserve. More than I could have ever dreamed of. You are everything, Phares.”

  Phares kissed him. Darius drank up every bit of what Phares gave him and returned it to him tenfold. He could not resist. He would never again let Phares think he was anything less than everything he ever wanted. Darius could do this.

  For Phares.

  For himself.

  “The words are inadequate for how I feel, but I love you, Darius,” Phares breathed, peppering Darius’s neck with kisses.

  Darius’s heart took flight as he reveled in the words and the feelings coursing through him. “I love you, as well.”

  Their hands grew desperate, touching every inch of skin they could reach. Darius was naked under the silks that draped over his lower body, but Phares was wearing linen pants that he quickly shucked in favor of being skin to skin.

  “Are you well?” Phares asked, still peppering kisses.

  Darius quickly took stock. He had no injuries to speak of. His throat still burned, his chest was tender where he suspected they’d attempted to rid him of the water he’d inhaled, and he felt the occasional urge to cough. But he was well enough to be loved. “I am well enough.”

  Phares peered up at him, pulling away. “Perhaps we should wait.”

  “No!” Darius clutched at him. “Just hold me. Please.”

  Phares resumed his previous position, stretching out alongside him.

  In each other’s arms, legs tangled, and their heads together, they took comfort in their shared space.

  That was how Claudio found them some time later. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my king, but one of the prisoners is requesting an audience.”

  Phares raised his head, scowl firmly in place. “Why do I care what a prisoner wants? They are lucky I have not yet begun their punishment.”

  “I think that is what she wishes to discuss.”

  “She?”

  “The insurrectionist from Quellin, my king.”

  Phares scoffed. “No. I have more pressing matters to see to before I am subjected to whatever lies will drip from her lips.” He dismissed Claudio with a jerk of his chin before placing his head back on the pillow.

  When Claudio didn’t leave, Darius nudged Phares to once again grant him attention.

  With a sigh, Phares rolled over slightly, enough to see Claudio but not enough that he had to relinquish his hold on Darius. “What else is there?”

  Darius braced when he saw the twinkle in Claudio’s eye.

  Lips twitching, Claudio granted them the reason for his humor. “The servants have finished repairing the throne room and Brunold’s injury is not as serious as we first thought according to the healer.”

  Phares expression closed. “Very well,” he muttered, rolling back to his original position while Claudio took his leave.

  “Why did the throne room need to be repaired?” Darius inquired.

  Phares closed his eyes, preparing for sleep. “I destroyed it.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I was…upset.”

  Darius brought his hand to Phares’s face, threading his fingers into his beard. “You lost control.”

  Darius watched as Phares’s black eyes slowly opened. “Yes. I thought you were being taken from me.”

  He brushed a kiss across his lips. “I was not taken. I am here.”

  “Yes, now.”

  “And what happened to Brunold?”

  “He got in my way. He will be fine.”

  Darius’s eyes widened at his dismissive tone, but then he chuckled. “You are a beast.”

  “And you are unwell. Sleep,” he ordered. “When you are recovered, I will not be letting you sleep for days.” He punctuated his promise with a pinch to Darius’s rear end.

  Darius did not think that sleep deprivation sounded all that bad, so he snuggled in closer, followed his king’s orders, and slept.

  Chapter 10

  Phares stripped and plunged into the baths.

  He scrubbed his skin as the water around him swirled with red. Blood from his time visiting his guests in the dungeons ran like a river from his hands. He would go to Darius clean.

  Clean of body if not clean of sins.

  Bhatten and the servant he’d bribed to help him were currently being prepared for execution. Though he would have loved to slaughter them himself, with great fanfare, he didn’t want their deaths to be a spectacle. There would be no chance to have their last words heard. No chance to once again lay eyes on their loved ones or to have their loved ones lay eyes on them. They would be granted no courtesy. Therefore, he’d already gotten his personal punishment in. The execution itself would be done in private, and the only eyes who would witness it would be the executioner, Phares, and Claudio.

  But that was for later.

  Now, Phares had plans of a much more pleasurable nature. Darius claimed he was feeling better, and Phares had agreed that his breaths were coming easier. Five days had passed since the attempt on his life, and his reliant was handling it quite well. He’d been insisting he resume his duties at the king’s side after the second day. Phares, however, had declined. He’d decreed that Darius not lift a finger until he was sure he was well again.

  He would not jeopardize his future husband.

  Phares pumped into Darius’s tight hole. Once, twice, three times before roaring his release. He pulled out, taking great pleasure in the sight of his seed running down the backs of Darius’s thighs.

  “It seems I have filled you to overflowing,” he teased.

  “Phares,” Darius groaned. “Please.”

  “Shh, my heart, I will give you what you need.” He urged Darius to stand up straight so he was no longer bent over his throne. He turned him around so they were facing each other before dropping to his knees. “Use my mouth.”

  Darius inhaled sharply. “King Phares kneels for no one.”

  “He kneels for you.”

  “My king.” Darius’s words were a benediction, and Phares wanted to answer his every prayer.

  He took Darius’s length in his mouth, sucking him deep, letting him hit the back of his throat.

  Darius moaned, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands gripping Phares’s hair. Words, mostly endearments mixed with nonsensical gibberish, fell from his lips like a chant.

  He worked Darius’s cock like his last meal, savoring it but with the relish of a starving man, and when Darius spilled his seed, he drank it down like it was the only water in the desert.

  He licked his way up Darius’s torso nipping and sucking in random spots until he reached his mouth, which he claimed in a kiss. He shoved his tongue inside, letting Darius taste himself on his breath. “You taste better than I imagined.”

  “You honor me.”

  “I worship you.”

  Phares held him close, running his hands over his muscled form, enjoying the way his skin felt under his fingers and the way his flesh rippled when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

  “Where shall we go next?”

  Phares smiled. They’d been working their way through the palace, making memories in each room as they went. Now that the throne room was thoroughly defiled, they could move on. “I believe the gardens are in full bloom.”

  Darius mirrored his look. “There’s a bench behind the roses that I always thought looked particularly comfortable.”

/>   Phares laughed as he tugged Darius behind him on his way out the door.

  Darius stood stiffly in his position slightly to the side and behind Phares. Looking out over the crowd that had assembled in the throne room, he wondered how many of them were secretly plotting against him. It was no secret that several of the servants were jealous of his position as Phares’s lover since he was no longer taking any of them to bed. Phares was wholly devoted to Darius.

  If the servants weren’t plotting, it wasn’t a leap to think that some of the nobles may be. Though, after what happened to Bhatten, perhaps they were deterred from such foolish action.

  Darius caught sight of the guard shifting next to him out of the corner of his eye. Since the day one of the kitchen servants wandered into the laundry with a load of dirty aprons and found Darius on the floor, not breathing for all the water in his lungs, Phares had insisted on a personal guard for Darius anytime he was not in the king’s presence.

  It was more than was necessary, he proclaimed, but arguing with Phares was a battle he’d lost before he’d even begun. The king wouldn’t hear a single word against the idea, no matter what methods of persuasion Darius tried to employ. He was not above using seduction to get his way, and even that had not worked.

  A bell sounded, signaling the demand for silence. The king was about to speak.

  Phares stood. His very presence commanded attention, but standing, with his powerful physique on display, he instilled both awe and fear in his subjects.

  And a fair amount of lust.

  Darius tried not to entertain the jealousy that burned in his gut.

  “Since the day I took the throne and claimed the kingdom of Khalan, it has been speculated that I would eventually take a wife.”

  Murmurs filtered through the crowd as those said speculations flared to life once more.

  “I have called you all here this day to formally announce that I will not now, or ever, take a wife. Khalan will have no queen so long as I am king.”