Chapter Three #4
With a curse, Cador dumped him onto the rug. Jem landed on his arse and stared up, nostrils flaring. Cador wanted to rub the bony cap of his knee to soothe the sting, but he’d be damned if he’d betray any weakness. Puffing out his chest, he loomed over Jem.
“Well, husband .”
Jem pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, but didn’t retreat. Spine ramrod straight, he stared up at Cador. He took a shuddering breath. “I know we are wed, but I don’t—we aren’t—” He mumbled a few other words Cador couldn’t make out.
“What?” Cador demanded.
Jem flinched. Was the boy genuinely afraid?
“Speak,” Cador ordered. There. He was being reasonable.
Head down, Jem barely whispered. “Please don’t… I’ve never…”
“Never what?”
Jem exhaled a long breath and flapped his hands, motioning to the bed. Cador blinked. Was he talking about fucking? Did the boy think he was actually going to bed him? He laughed, and Jem hugged his knees so tightly he’d bruise himself.
Wait. Was he actually…
A virgin?
Sympathy flared. Cador didn’t give a shit, but he still imagined being in the boy’s flimsy boots. If I was a useless layabout who’d somehow never even fucked…
Cador frowned. “How old are you?” Alarm gripped him. Had they made him marry an actual boy?
“Twenty years,” came the meek answer. Jem’s gaze stayed on the fancy colored carpet.
Relief gave way to bafflement. “Then how the fuck are you a virgin ?”
No answer.
Cador huffed as he stared down at the huddled, slim form. When he’d slung Jem over his shoulder, he’d been surprised at the lean muscles he’d felt, but now Jem looked tiny. A virgin at twenty? Unheard of in Ergh. Was this common with mainlanders? What was wrong with them? Were they all so…delicate?
“Do you prefer women?” Cador enjoyed fucking anyone who’d make sport of it with a hearty laugh and shared lust for release and pleasure. But he knew the desires of some were more specific.
Jem shook his head.
Then what was wrong with him? Had Cador been nervous the first time? Perhaps, but it was so long ago he barely remembered. Fucking, hunting, feasting—the three pursuits that made life joyful. Yet Jem cowered. He seemed truly fearful, and Cador’s gut clenched uneasily.
All right, he’d joke and put Jem’s mind at ease.
The boy had no idea of the fate awaiting him on Ergh, but aside from his childish belching, Cador had no desire to make Jem suffer needlessly in the meantime.
He’d much rather just ignore him, but they were stuck in the chamber together for the night. All that simpering would be tiresome.
Cador grinned. “Terrified of my massive cock?”
Jem’s shoulders jerked, and he made no reply at all. No comeback. He’d made an excellent insult earlier, but that spark had apparently been smothered.
Cador tried again. “Think I’m going to throw you down and break your puny body in two?”
Why wasn’t the boy laughing? An Erghian would have jested back—perhaps saying they’d chop off Cador’s prick and throw the paltry meal to the boars, or that they’d had bigger slivers from a twig and wouldn’t feel a thing.
“Think you’ll be able to suck me without choking to death?”
Jem stared up with those honey eyes and whispered, “Please don’t make me.”
Oh, for the love of—why was the boy acting like Cador was a monster? “Your virtue is safe with me. Sleep well knowing I wouldn’t touch you if my cock was on fire and you were…made of…water.” He grimaced. Not his finest jest, but it had been a damn long day.
But Jem had no insult to give in return. Cador shook his head. Mainlanders. Humorless, the lot of them. If Jem wanted to weep and whimper all night, he could go ahead.
Cador marched past him to douse the candles and stinking herbs, tamping them out with his fingers and ignoring the flare of heat on his calluses. In the darkness, he yanked off his boots, trousers, and the damn marriage robe before flopping naked onto the too-soft bed.
He’d rather sleep on the rug, but the boy would probably begin shrieking if he approached in the dark. The bed was large, so if Jem wanted to take a corner of it, he could climb up. It wasn’t Cador’s concern.
Still, as he heard the soft little breaths from beyond the bed, more sympathy tugged at him. The boy hadn’t asked for this any more than Cador had. And his role when the time came would be…unpleasant. But if he chose to spend the night cowering and feeling sorry for himself, that was up to him.
The question was barely a whisper, and Cador had to strain to hear as Jem asked, “But don’t we have to…”
“Fuck? Who will know we didn’t? Not a soul will hear it from me, and if you keep your pretty mouth shut, no one will be the wiser. We’re both free to bed whoever we want. You can find a soft lover who will screw you with care and tender words. Unless you want to—”
Cador broke off. He was going to joke: Unless you want to bend over to take a pounding and become a man. But he didn’t want to listen to any more whimpering. Instead, he said, “If anyone asks, we fucked.” After a moment, he added, “And I was magnificent.”
Resolutely, he shut his eyes. Now he would sleep and get this cursed night over with.
He shifted to his side. The bed dipped too low and it was too damn quiet.
If he was out on a hunt at home, the night would be full of sounds—horses snuffling, fellow hunters fucking.
Or if he was in his cottage, the fire would be crackling, the wind howling beyond the stone and timber.
Here, it was silent but for his breath and the prince’s. The muffled beats of his own heart filled his ears. Nothing was as it should be. He longed for the way life had been. The simplicity of it that he’d taken for granted. But all he could do was wait for sleep to capture him.
When he opened his eyes again, it would be dawn. He’d return to familiar gray skies and wild boars to hunt. He despised that he had to bring his weak new husband home, but at least he wouldn’t have to put up with him for long.