Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince 2)

e. They were both breathing expectantly.

‘A buck is happiest when mounting a herd.’ He heard Halvik’s voice, speaking to Laurent in Veretian. ‘Come, we will continue our negotiation away from the coupling fire. He will be brought to you when he is done.’

He was aware of Laurent and Halvik departing, as he was aware of the presence of other couples finding their way to the furs by the fire, a flickering peripheral awareness that was subsumed in his desire for Kashel, as their bodies primed to the same task.

It was a hot and fierce joining, the first time. She was a fine, well-made young woman, and she matched him with an intensity that grew out of her laughter as she pulled at his clothes; it had been a long time since he had enjoyed a free, uninhibited exchange of pleasure. She was better at taking off the Veretian clothing than he had been, the first time. Or more determined. She was very determined. She rolled on top of him near the driving, shuddering climax, dropping her head so that her hair, loosened from its plait, hung down and shifted with her movements, curtaining them both.

The second time, he found her more sweetly boneless and willing to be explored, and he roused her to the point that she became hotly, dazedly abandoned to him, which, above all things, he liked.

Later, she lay panting and spent on the furs, and he lay beside her, propping himself up on one arm, and looking down at her sprawled body, appreciatively.

Perhaps there was something in the milky white drink. He had climaxed twice, but he was not driven into lassitude. He was feeling quite pleased with himself, and thinking that Vaskian women did not truly have the stamina that was accredited to them, when another girl came to speak in a teasing voice to Kashel, and then to fit herself into Damen’s surprised arms. Kashel rose up into the sitting position of a spectator, and offered what sounded like cheerful encouragement.

And then, as this new challenge was met, as the drums from the nearby campfire beat in his ears, Damen felt the press of a new body against his back, and realised that they had been joined by more than one girl.

* * *

Clothes were difficult. Laces eluded him. He decided, after a few attempts, that he did not require his shirt. It was taking all his attention to hold his pants up.

Laurent was asleep when Damen found his way to the correct tent, but he stirred in the furs when the tent flap opened, his golden lashes fluttering, then lifting. When he saw Damen, he pushed himself up on one arm and gave a single wide-eyed blink.

Then, soundlessly, behind the press of a hand, he started helplessly laughing.

Damen said, ‘Stop. If I laugh, I’ll fall over.’

Damen squinted at a separate fur pile near Laurent’s, then made his best attempt: he wove, reached and then collapsed down onto it. This seemed the pinnacle of accomplishment. He rolled over on his back. He was smiling.

‘Halvik had a lot of girls,’ he said.

The words came out sounding like he felt, sated and sex-drenched, exhausted and happy. The furs were warm around him. He was blissfully drowsy, moments away from sleep.

He said, ‘Stop laughing.’

When he turned his head to look, Laurent was lying on his side, head propped on one hand, gazing at him, eyes bright.

‘This is instructive. I’ve seen you put half a dozen men in the dirt without breaking a sweat.’

‘Not right now, I couldn’t.’

‘I can see that. You’re relieved of your regular duties in the morning.’

‘That’s nice of you. I can’t get up. I’ll just lie here. Or did you need something?’

‘Oh, how did you know?’ said Laurent. ‘Take me to bed.’

Damen groaned and found himself laughing after all, in the moment before he pulled the furs over his head. He heard a final sound of amusement from Laurent, and that was all he heard before sleep reached up and claimed him.

* * *

The ride back through the dawn was easy and pleasant. The sky was clear of clouds, and the rising sun was bright; it was going to be a beautiful day. Damen was in good spirits and happy to ride in contented silence. They were abreast, part-way to Acquitart before he thought to ask:

‘Your negotiations went well?’

‘We certainly left in possession of a great deal of new goodwill.’

‘You should do business with the Vaskians more often.’

His cheerfulness shone in this statement. There was a pause. Eventually, and with an odd hesitancy, Laurent asked, ‘Is it different than with a man?’