Nadir responded with a kiss, threading his fingers into Shafiq's thick, soft hair. Shafiq responded in full, hands between them touching and teasing, occasionally remembering to work on their clothes. As Nadir's were far easier to be rid of, those went first, and he nearly died on the spot as Shafiq shifted down his body with clear intent. "My king—"
"If your aim is to encourage me, that's the perfect way to do it," Shafiq said, kissing his way down Nadir's chest, teeth scraping, making him gasp and twitch, muscles pulling tight. He dragged his tongue across Nadir's stomach and then bit down. "I have wanted to have you beneath me like this for a long time."
"Have all you like," Nadir said breathlessly. That got him another hard kiss, leaving him panting, his lips sore, and then Shafiq resumed his slow, delightfully agonizing trip downward, until he could sink his teeth into one thigh, causing Nadir to jerk and gasp.
Before he could remember how to speak, Shafiq's tongue was teasing along the length of his cock, licking at the tip, then doing it all over again, the best and worst sort of torment. By the time Shafiq finally took him deep, sucking hard, tongue still working, Nadir was trembling, moaning and writhing on the sheets, already tangled and damp with sweat. A thousand illicit imaginings did not compare to the reality.
He came with a cry of Shafiq's name, ragged and broken but unmistakable all the same, and lay there panting heavily as Shafiq slowly pulled off his cock. Nadir might have whimpered then, at the sight of the usually perfectly neat and tidy Shafiq all mussed and sweaty, hair tangled, lips swollen and wet. He beckoned with one heavy arm, and dragged Shafiq into a messy kiss, his free hand working through all of Shafiq's layers to get a hand around his cock, jerking him hard, in time with the movements of their tangled tongues.
He could imagine nothing finer in life than the way it felt as Shafiq came in his arms, saying Nadir's name against his lips. Well, he could imagine finer, like Shafiq buried deep inside him at the time, but it was Shafiq in his arms that mattered most in the end.
When they could muster the energy and wherewithal to move, they discarded the clothes once and for all, cleaned up a bit, and settled into the clean blanket Shafiq drew from a chest at the foot of the bed.
Nadir sprawled over him, much like he had during their brief moment in the garden. Only days ago, but it felt like forever and just yesterday. Time was a funny thing. "Are you going to get in trouble for sneaking away to indulge your concubine?"
"You think I'm indulging you?" Shafiq laughed. "I'm pretty certain it's the other way around."
"Well, it is my duty to serve my king howsoever he pleases."
"You being here pleases me most," Shafiq said. "I hate the circumstances that finally brought you here, but I'm happy to have you at last." He sighed. "Though I do have some details for you, on the matter of your parents and the kidnapping…"
Nadir sat up, the bedclothes pooling around him, one hand still resting on Shafiq's chest. It was only then he noticed he'd lost one of his earrings, lying amongst the sheets nearShafiq's arm. He picked it up, removed the other one, and set them aside, then returned his hand to Shafiq's chest, liking the way Shafiq immediately covered it with one of his own. "So tell me."
"The people responsible for your kidnapping were your parents' main connection in the city. More specifically, the harbor. Without your parents, their… supply chain… was severely disrupted. Even more important than that, though, at least to them, was how much knowledge your parents had. Their aim was to either get your parents out of there so they couldn't talk or kill them for the same. They'd hoped taking you would force me to release them or kill them."
No doubt Nadir would have been killed one way or another, once his purpose had been served. "I see," he said softly. "What is to become of my parents? Actually, you know what, never mind. I don't want to know. They made their choices, they'll have to suffer for them, the same as they handed out judgements all these years. It's over for me. My place is here now."
"Yes, it is," Shafiq said, and pulled him down so they could lie there together until the world once more demanded their attention.
The Jackal
"I have a bad feeling about this," Berkant said, resting one hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. "Foul spirits in the air. Something is going to go wrong."
"Superstitious nonsense," Ratti replied at his most scathing. "I pay you to be more level-headed than that, so do it."
"As you please, Master." Berkant breathed in, breathed out, letting the anger dissipate into the air. Well, that was what he was supposed to do, and he tried, but he was damned tired of this work, especially Ratti. If a meaner rat existed, Berkant hoped he never met them.
He didn't care how dismissive Ratti and all the others, still casting him looks and sniggering, were about his 'superstitions'. He had a bad feeling, and they'd never steered him wrong before.
A pity, really. This job should have been simple. Retrieve the goods from the warehouse; make deliveries to the various customers. The city guards had long turned a blind eye to smuggling, so long as the smugglers weren't stupid enough to get involved in something as heinous as human trafficking.
Ratti was a long way from that, thankfully. Greedy, crafty, and with a temper that required a bodyguard of Berkant's skill, but not stupid.
Well, not entirely stupid. He could stand to listen when Berkant warned him something was off. He'd been right every time so far, but Ratti liked to pretend he was just a superstitious wall of muscle. Whatever. Smuggling wasn't a matter of 'don't get arrested,' so much as 'avoid it as long as possible'. It wouldhardly be the first time Berkant was dragged off to jail. At least he'd only be an accessory to smuggling, since his job was solely to serve as Ratti's bodyguard.
"Let's move!" Ratti bellowed, and the men he'd hired for the night finished securing the load, secured their harnesses, and hauled the cart out of the warehouse. It took four of them to do it, each man roughly the size of a house.
Ratti walked several paces behind, Berkant beside him, so that if the cart was busted, he had plenty of plausible deniability about being associated with it. That never fooled the guards, but it didn't matter, because on the rare occasion they cared enough to inspect, a suitably heavy purse sent them right back to blind and apathetic.
There were many things Berkant missed about his old life, but being a city guard wasn't one of them. Most of them were corrupt, and the rest were either severely corrupt or one of the smattering of actually honest guards. Being an honest guard had nearly gotten him killed more than once, by criminals and comrades. Once the marriage contract had been signed, it had been all the excuse he'd needed to abandon the career he'd been shoved into and find something 'more suitable for building a family.'
That had turned out to be a show fighter, but he'd never minded fighting, except when it turned dirty or ended in death.
A sharp, cool wind startled him from his thoughts, bringing with it the sea, refuse the cleaners had not yet carted away, and smoke, both from woodfires and more dubious substances from the alleyways where the poor and homeless made do with what they could scrounge.
Berkant scarcely noticed the cold; he rarely did, unless it got much closer to freezing, which didn't happen this time of year. Beside him, though, despite being bundled in layersenough for a wintry climate, Ratti shivered. "This had better go smoothly tonight."
"I hope so," Berkant replied. "I still feel like it won't."
