Chapter Seven
THE LOOKS I GOT AS I PARADED ABOUT THE CASTLE with a guard toting a slice of cake on a plate was wildly entertaining.
It appeared many had never seen a dashing pirate delivering a slab of cake to a grand advisor before.
Not that they knew I was seeking out Le’ral Fylson in the hopes of seducing him with cake.
I had no clue if the elf liked sweets. If not, I would gladly volunteer to eat it off his chest for him, or any other part of his body he deemed erotic.
It had been nearly two fortnights since I’d last given someone a good, hard frogging.
“This is the grand advisor’s quarters,” the guard informed me as we stopped at one door of hundreds in this ridiculous keep. Truly, did the ruler of this country need such grandiose living quarters?
“Thank you. You may return to your duties.” I rapped soundly on Le’ral’s door. “I plan to stay the night.”
My escort gawked at me. “I shall stay at your side until given leave to go by someone trustworthy.”
I placed a hand on my chest. “Guardsman, I am truly broken. Your lack of trust in me has left my heart in shattered bits.” He rolled his eyes. “And now you add disbelief to my agony.”
The door creaked open to show me Le’ral Fylson, who made the cake I carried pale in comparison, and I adored cake.
His hair was disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through the short mahogany mass.
He wore loose lounging pants topped with a silken robe.
Hairless chest exposed in the gap of the soft green robe.
His feet were bare. My cock began to thicken.
“Ah, Le’ral, I come bearing gifts of cake to fortify you for the tour you promised me.” I held out the cake. Le’ral, to his credit, only looked taken aback for the blink of an eye.
“This guest of the king has informed me that you are expecting him to stay overnight?” my escort blurted out.
That one made Le’ral’s dark eyes flare. A twist of his lips told me he wasn’t all that put out with me.
“This guest of the king thinks highly of himself,” Le’ral commented as I peeked around him to spy two ravens lurking about on his balcony, the soft rain rolling off their ebony feathers.
Le’ral stepped into my line of sight as he plucked the cake from my hand.
“But his offer of cake is appealing. I’ll see him back to his quarters. You are dismissed.”
The guard shot me a dark look before inclining his head to stalk down the hall.
I leaned a shoulder to the doorway, arms crossed, to rake a hot look over the older elf in naught but his sleeping clothes.
With the light from a few oil lamps and a robust fire in the hearth glowing in his rooms, I could see the shape of his thighs through his pants.
Nice meaty thighs. Perfect for spreading wide open.
“I must apologize,” he said. I ran a finger through the icing on his slice of cake. My prick kicked when he watched me bring that sweet finger to my lips. “I had a spat of late correspondence arrive that required my immediate attention.”
“Mm, vanilla with a hint of pine nut. Lovely.” I licked my finger clean. His nostrils flared. “So you were working and not lounging abed. Pity. I was hoping I could tuck you back into your covers and then join you.”
“I was under the impression you were here for the tour of the castle.” He stood his ground, not pushing me away nor inviting me in for a night of what surely would be phenomenal fucking.
“Oh, well, that can always be done at another time. It’s grown late. An elf of your age should get his rest so he can face the following day with vigor.”
His smile was a quick one, but oh, what it did to the man. The laugh lines just starting at the corners of his eyes deepened. It pulled his lush lips upward.
“Rest assured, Captain, that even at my advanced age, I would have enough energy to show you around the castle at this time of the night. That said, I would not wish to disturb the staff, so perhaps we should plan it for the morrow?”
“Perhaps. I would hate to disturb the staff more than I have already today. They seem quite skittish to have a pirate and a half-troll in the guest wing. I think they simply need to get to know Prescott and me better. To that end, if you invite me in, you can get to know me intimately. Then you can pass along the knowledge that I’m a delightful sort who possesses an alluring smile as well as a large cock. ”
“Oh? Do you think the staff needs to know the size of your shaft?”
“Perhaps not the entire staff. Just the grand advisor.” I waggled my brows.
He coughed out a soft laugh. “You are persistent. And charming in the way that rogues tend to be, but I have to wonder if you are truly as endowed as you say you are or if you are bragging as males who possess a smaller than average cock seem to do.”
“Invite me in, and we shall put your questioning mind at ease.”
He hesitated for quite some time. So long that I was sure he was going to tell me to haul my scurvy arse back to my room.
“I have not had a visitor to my quarters in any capacity other than for the crown’s business since Mirolar was alive.” That confession drained a good deal of my swagger from me.
“That has been several seasons,” I finally replied in a whisper. He nodded. Unsure of what to say in the face of such honesty, I stood, uncrossed my arms, and thought to go. Then he stepped aside, his cheeks turning ruddy.
“Several seasons…yes, a long time. I…we can share this cake.”
I stepped inside, the warmth of the room enveloping me.
A tingle of magicks moved over me as I entered.
A spell of some sort to either alert Le’ral of someone entering his rooms or a blanketing incantation to ensure no eavesdropping charms could be cast. Smart man.
Cautious. A man trying hard to keep secrets.
I suspected he was a high-ranking espionage official, given the spells about the room and the waiting ravens.
Perhaps I was mistaken, but I doubted it.
The black birds took to wing with loud calls that the gentle rain softened.
His suite was large, with a connecting room that I assumed was his sleeping quarters.
The working area was plain in that it lacked the ostentatious showiness of the rest of the palace.
The stonework of the walls was exemplary, obviously, as was the shine on the white quartzite floor slabs.
Yes, those remained and screamed wealth.
But there were no gilded portraits or tapestries from the Black Sands.
No stained glass in the windows or ornate imported vases.
This area was all work. There was a small round table in the corner with two chairs and an ornate harmonium of stars set, glowing softly in the dim light, inviting one to sit down to match mental wits with the owner of the set.
The game pieces were carved out of silverwood and inlaid with crystals that produced a harmonic tone when used in a high-level game.
Generally, the game was silent. I’d never been able to grasp the mechanics as it was far too cerebral for me but seeing Le’ral with a set of the old elven game didn’t surprise me.
That game board was an indication of a learned, affluent elf.
A massive desk of dark woods covered with paperwork, scrolls, inks, and quills sat in the center of the room.
An open wooden box of seals rested beside a half-empty glass of sparkling ice wine.
A few lacquered boxes sat atop a shelving unit packed tightly with books.
If anything shouted of great prestige, aside from the harmonium game set, it was the plethora of leather-bound tomes.
Books were expensive. I glanced at the spines as Le’ral padded about with his cake to discover the man was greatly interested in warfare, military treaties, religion, and cryptology. Learned indeed and well read.
I turned from the furnishings to find Le’ral standing at the hearth, staring into the flames, his cake still in his hand.
“Do you not like the cake?” I asked, breaking the spell the fire seemed to have him in. A pity, really, for he was a striking sight with the firelight on his face. He glanced at me, smiling that hard-to-read smile.
“You brought no spoon,” he pointed out.
“I am truly lacking in the skills of a servant. My apologies. You could use your fingers. I brought no cloth to clean your face, but I would be willing to lick the crumbs from your chest.”
He shook his head in amusement. “You do not dance about your desires.”
“I do not.” I placed my arse on the edge of his desk, folded my arms over my chest, and crossed my ankles.
“I learned a great many things at my father’s knee at an early age.
” I started ticking those things off. “Don’t go too near the railing in rough seas, don’t drink grog with raw eggs, don’t follow the teachings of any organized religion, don’t give your heart to any lover, always thank the sea witches for a safe journey, and never back down from going after the things you desire. I desire you.”
“We have just met.” He placed his untouched cake on the gaming table. I would have to feed it to him with my fingers as a bit of foreplay. “And while I do find you incredibly attractive, there are several key factors as to why you should return to your quarters, alone, this eve.”
“Do tell. I should like to hear your reasons so that I may debunk them.”
His lips twitched. He was enjoying this even if he pretended he did not. By the witches tits, this man was alluring!
“Very well. You, Captain, are more than likely a prince.” He tossed that out flatly, as if he had already concluded my lineage.
“Pah, you’re using station to try to quell the want you have for me.”
“You are quite cocksure.”