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Damen was almost asleep. The bed was soft and warm. He had the pleasant afterglow that followed orgasm. Their talk had subsided naturally a bit earlier. Laurent was relaxed next to him.
Laurent began talking.
“Sometimes I think about when you were my slave.”
Damen made a sleepy noise and pulled Laurent a bit closer.
“I thought--” There was something unusual about the tone of Laurent’s voice as he was speaking. Something diffident that wasn’t usually how he spoke when they were in bed together.
Laurent continued. “I thought about how you might have your way with me.”
Damen came more fully awake. “What do you mean?”
Laurent was staring at the ceiling. “I thought about how you might force yourself on me.”
Damen stiffened. “Laurent! I would never.”
Laurent’s eyes flicked to him and then back to the ceiling. “I know. But I thought about how it would be.”
An uneasy feeling settled in Damen’s stomach. “Laurent--”
Laurent continued in the same calm and even tone. “I would fight back, of course,” he said. “But not too hard.”
The sheet had been pushed to the bottom of the bed during their earlier bedplay, and Damen could see that Laurent was beginning to rouse again.
“You thought about it,” Damen said carefully.
“I don’t think I would have screamed,” Laurent said, thoughtfully. “I’m not the type to scream. But I would have tried to fight you.”
“To fight me,” Damen said, still cautious, feeling that this was one of those Veretian word games where there were traps behind every syllable.
“I wouldn’t win, of course,” Laurent continued as though Damen hadn’t spoken.
“Would you have liked that?” Damen said, trying to understand.
“No,” said Laurent, and then he changed his tone and said, “Yes. I would--I thought--if you did.” He shook his head slightly. “I wanted to fight just enough so I could tell myself that I didn’t want it.”
Damen felt as though he were making his way carefully along a cliff and there might be an avalanche at any moment. “But you did want it?”
“No,” Laurent’s eyes flicked his direction again. “Yes,” Laurent said, his eyes still lingering on Damen. “I didn’t and then I did. But I didn’t want to want it. So I wanted you to just take it.” He frowned as though he were still trying to refine what he was saying. “I wanted you,” he said after a moment. “But I didn’t want to admit that to myself. I wanted it to be--simple.”
Damen swallowed. Laurent was almost fully hard, Damen could see. “Laurent,” Damen said. “I would have never forced myself on you.”
Laurent made a frustrated noise and turned his eyes back to the ceiling. “That’s not the point.”
Damen waited.
“I wanted you to.”
Damen could hear the rockslide beginning in the distance. “Wanted me to force you.”
“Wanted you to take the choice from me,” said Laurent.
Damen wondered why Laurent had decided to talk about this now. Asking that did not necessarily seem wise. He tried to follow Laurent’s thought patterns, and then abandoned that and examined the scenario more directly.
“I am not sure it would have been possible,” he said. “You always kept a knife near to your hand when you slept.” He had observed that about Laurent’s habits. “The guards outside the tent were not that far off. But to disarm you, and manage to hold you down without enough of a scuffle to alarm the guards--” he trailed off doubtfully.
Laurent had the same even tone. “I’ve thought about it,” he said again. “You would have to dispense with the knife, but you could have done that in a dozen different ways. Move it when I was not in the tent, slide it away before I awoke. Then, you could come up with a pretext to send the guards away. They listened to you even before you were officially their captain. An excuse would not be so hard. Some sort of errand, something that the prince needed urgently, and they would have run off without a thought.”
Damen continued to feel uneasy. “I would not have done those things, Laurent.”
Laurent had given the matter further thought. “Then, it would have simply been a matter of one man against another, and we know from the ring that you would win.”
Laurent proceeded to explain that he thought there were as many as three different holds that Damen could use to subdue Laurent under him, and he described each of them.
“That’s very specific,” Damen said finally.
Laurent was still lying next to him on the bed from where they had settled earlier. Their shoulders were touching.
“Sometimes I wish you’d just do that,” Laurent said.
Damen stared at him.
“You treat me,” Laurent said. “As if I would break, and I won’t. I am not fragile, and sometimes --”
There was a period of silence. Laurent had his hands resting on his own stomach, and Damen reached for one of them slowly. He brushed his finger against Laurent’s forearm gently.
“Sometimes,” Damen said, prompting.
“Sometimes, I want--” Uncharacteristically, Laurent didn’t seem to know exactly how to finish this thought.
Damen ran his fingers down Laurent’s forearm, trailing over the fine golden hair to Laurent’s wrist. He had his fingers on the wrist that was not wearing the golden cuff. He reached out his other hand to brush the cuff lightly. Laurent hadn’t acknowledged this caress yet.
Damen adjusted his grip, grasped Laurent’s wrists within his hands, and then lifted Laurent’s arms, moving his wrists to pin them to the bedsheet above Laurent’s head. That had been part of the second hold that Laurent had described.
Laurent seemed surprised, and his eyes focused on Damen’s face again. He tried to move his right hand, and Damen grasped it more firmly, preventing him.
Laurent was about to shift his shoulder to try to free his wrist. Damen could tell from the way the muscles in his abdomen tensed suddenly, but Damen himself was faster, and moved on top of Laurent suddenly, using his own weight to press Laurent’s torso firmly into the bed and keeping his hands pinning Laurent’s wrists.
“Like this?” he said, thinking back to Laurent’s description of the second hold position and comparing it to his present hold.
Laurent’s eyes narrowed. “Get off me.”
“No,” Damen said.
Laurent smiled slowly.
“You know I will struggle,” said Laurent.
“Go ahead,” said Damen.
Laurent began tentatively, tugging at his wrists in Damen’s grasp, or twisting under Damen’s weight on the bed. As Damen’s hold persisted, he struggled more in earnest, more viciously, attempting to knee Damen in the groin.
Damen prevented this by shifting one of his own legs protectively, but he objected. “Hey.”
Laurent ignored his objection, glared, and then tried to sink his teeth into Damen’s shoulder. Damen began thinking of this less as bedplay and more as wrestling. Damen shifted his hold on Laurent’s wrists to one of his own hands so he could grasp the other in a tight hold of Laurent’s hair and prevent any further biting attempts. He used his weight to press Laurent a bit more firmly into the bed. This had the accidental effect of revealing how aroused Laurent was. Damen could feel Laurent’s erection as Laurent bucked up against him helplessly.
By the time Damen had reasserted control of the hold, they were both breathing a bit heavy.
Damen decided to make the game a bit more interesting. He loosened his grasp on one of Laurent’s hands and shifted slightly, offering an opportunity.
Laurent took it immediately, snaking away from under Damen on the bed.
Damen waited a moment, until Laurent had almost managed to free himself, and then he gripped Laurent firmly by the hips and pulled him back across the bed. Laurent’s hands trailed across the sheets, scrambling for purchase and not finding it in the linen bedclothes.
Damen pinned Laurent a second time with his body, taking advantage of his greater bulk to subdue Laurent’s struggles. He looked down at where he had Laurent settled underneath him, face up with Laurent’s back pressed to the bed.
“You are mine,” he said.
***
Laurent had been speaking Veretian earlier in the evening; he and Damen often spoke Veretian when alone together. But Damen switched to Akielon without even seeming to realize it when he growled “You are mine” in Laurent’s ear.
“Let me go,” Laurent said, in the same language.
Damen didn’t bother responding with words, and bit the side of Laurent’s neck. Laurent thought of a lioness picking up one of her cubs to carry him back to the nest. The bite distracted Laurent long enough that Damen managed to change his grip on Laurent’s wrists again, holding the fine bones of Laurent's wrists in one of his large hands.
He used his free hand to slide down Laurent’s front, scratching at his stomach and then palming Laurent’s erection. Laurent squirmed, trying to move his hips out of Damen’s grasp.
Damen grasped his cock more firmly. “Fight all you want,” Damen said, sounding implacable. “I’m stronger,” he told Laurent, a statement of fact that brooked no opposition.
Laurent struggled again, bucking up against Damen. It was futile and he knew it. If he were really trying to escape Damen his best strategy would be with words. Laurent purposefully bit his own lip, and the only sound that escaped him was a terse groan.
Damen tightened his grip again. “You are mine now,” Damen repeated, as though Laurent weren’t always his.
Damen moved his hand from Laurent’s cock to his shoulder, and attempted to flip Laurent on to his stomach. Laurent half-turned willingly enough, and then took advantage of Damen’s movement to slip out from under the weight of his body and scramble across the bed.
He almost managed to make it off the bed this time. Damen grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around Laurent’s waist and pulling him back to the center of the bed like a fisherman reeling in a catch.
“No, you don’t,” Damen told Laurent, but Laurent ignored him. He tried to kick Damen’s arm away and then twisted violently to the left, but Damen evaded the blow and proceeded to wrap an arm around Laurent’s torso, pinning his arms.
He pushed Laurent to the bed with real strength, and Laurent felt pleasure thrill in his chest and fought to keep his expression stern. He was amazed that Damen was playing this game with him--he hadn’t really thought that Damen would, but he loved it more than he had even anticipated when he had broken the silence between them with his thoughts.
Before Laurent had a chance to recover and get his arms beneath him and scramble up from his face-down position, Damen was behind him. As Laurent got his hands beneath him Damen was already lifting his hips and shifting his weight in a way that put Laurent off balance again. Then Damen grabbed his hands and pressed them again over Laurent’s head. He tried to kick at Damen but Damen’s weight was pressed against his hips and Damen’s legs were over his. He settled for a moment, breathing, feeling out the hold, testing it, and he didn’t think that he could move.
Damen whispered in his ear, and Laurent recognized the tone as the same one Damen had used to threaten his uncle at the Kingsmeet, fierce and with an edge of danger.
“You are going regret running away from me,” Damen said. Laurent felt a shiver go down his spine.
Laurent was not at all sure that was true, and he closed his eyes and pressed his face against the bedding. There was a moaning sound that he hardly recognized as coming from his own throat.
He felt Damen’s cock against his backside, full and hard and ready, rubbing against his cheeks. He thought he should fight further, clench his legs together, something, but all he could think about was Damen taking him. He was a breath away from begging. He bucked against the sheet helplessly.
Damen pressed inside him, and thrust in quickly enough that he didn’t give Laurent any time to adjust. Laurent didn’t need any preparation--he was still loose and oiled and primed from their earlier sex that evening. Laurent was so close to finishing that the feel of Damen’s first slide within him almost pushed him over the edge. Damen began thrusting quickly after that. Laurent could hear the slap of Damen’s hips against his ass, the echoes of both of their heavy breathing throughout the room. Damen was exerting himself enough that he grunted on particularly emphatic strokes, and Laurent whimpered deep in his chest as he finished, spilling on the sheets without even a hand on his cock.
He wasn’t sure that Damen even realized that Laurent had orgasmed, because Damen was still chasing his own finish, thrusting quickly and concluding shortly after Laurent with a groan and sinking his teeth into Laurent’s shoulder.
Laurent spent a final moment appreciating Damen’s weight on him. Damen’s arms gave out after he finished and his bulk settled on Laurent heavily for a moment, making it slightly difficult to breathe.
Damen rolled off of him, still breathing heavily himself. Laurent turned his head to the side to face Damen. Laurent’s hair was a wreck, streaked with sweat and stuck to his face, but he was grinning.
Damen smiled back at him, and then an irrepressible chuckle emerged from Laurent, and then Damen was laughing too, and then they were both laughing together, almost as helpless in their mirth as they had been earlier in their pleasure.
Their laughter subsided, and Laurent felt his breath return and his heart slow slightly. Damen reached across the bed gingerly toward him, and gently tugged Laurent closer to rest against his own shoulder. Laurent pushed his nose against Damen’s pectoral muscle affectionately.
“Are you okay?” Damen said.
Laurent nodded, yawning, and he fell asleep snuggled close to Damen with a smile still lingering on his face.