Arm in arm, they followed the gallery around until they finally reached the end and came upon a sumptuous bed chamber. Nestled in the centre of the pavilion, cocooned by the winding gallery, here was their own little den of privacy. A silk lined bedroom adorned with a circular bed, fine throws, pillows, and cushions galore, all rich colours in pink, gold, emerald-green and purple. Incense burned from somewhere, a sweet, spicy fragrance. Low rise tables boasted bowls of exotic fruit, piles of sweets, and nuts.
They stepped out of their slippers and knelt on the plump bed, positioned close to the floor. “This is your gift,” Hasim said, picking up an ornate, golden box from the table. He offered it to Francis.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Francis said, unsure if it was a keepsake box. He noticed a key embedded in its side. “Oh, it winds up?”
“It will play music for you,” Hasim explained. “I took the liberty of recording a live rendition of my favourite pieces for you. Just press the key, and it will play for you.”
“Oh, not wind up?” Francis asked.
“No, it is solar powered.” Hasim smiled. “The key is a decoration only.”
“Of course.” Francis gently turned the key, and once it clicked into place a soft, eastern guitar began to play, soon joined by more instruments and a lusty voice singing in Turkish.Francis turned the box over in his hands, looking for the source of the sounds and any clue as to how it worked. “Uncanny,” he said, fingers grazing the little holes around the sides of the box. The sound and vibrations came from there. “How does it work?”
Hasim chuckled and gently took the box from Francis to place it on the table, playing its melody. “I promise to share and show you all, in due course. But, first, my dear prince, I must woo you.”
“Yes, apologies,” Francis said. “And you need not woo me, I’m already yours.”
“But I must,” Hasim insisted, and bid Francis to lie back against the cushions to feed him peeled grapes.
“I could get used to this,” Francis teased. In truth he was too excited to relax, but he tried his best. Despite the cool air filtering into the room, Francis felt hot under his collar. He unwound the scarf from his neck and divested himself of the hat.
Hasim, too, removed his turban and shook out his long hair. He picked up a bowl of sweets to offer next, but Francis shook his head.
“No more delay,” he pleaded. “I want to be yours so very much, Hasim.”
They locked eyes for one long, charged moment, until Hasim set the bowl back down and came to drape himself over Francis.
“All mine,” he murmured, gazing into his eyes.
“Yes, all yours,” Francis confirmed. “And you are mine?”
“Only yours,” Hasim said, then leaned down to kiss him.
Francis met Hasim’s lips eagerly, and they kissed slowly at first, reacquainting themselves. Francis cupped Hasim’s face with his hand, thumb brushing the short beard hairs on his chin.
“Mmm,” Hasim purred against his lips.
Francis grew hard instantly. “I missed you very much,” he confessed.
“Show me,” Hasim commanded, still pinning Francis in place.
Francis desperately wanted his king closer and reached up to grasp at his shoulder and his waist to hold onto as he arched his back and rubbed the length of his erection against Hasim, brushing it against his thigh until he felt the growing arousal Hasim had for him in return. Francis circled his hips just so, grinding their hard cocks together through their silk trousers, the material now damp with sweat and pre-come.
Hasim let out a shaky gasp, and looked down at Francis, their eyes locking. “More,” he uttered, voice husky. “Don’t stop.”
Francis obediently ground his hips up, holding onto Hasim, a steady anchor in his growing fervour and frantic thrusting, the friction of their cocks encased in silk building and building until Francis reached his crescendo all too soon and came hard, crying out and gasping through his release.
“You are pretty this way,” Hasim rumbled out, as Francis sagged back into the cushions panting for breath. “Stay there,” he ordered, shifting back to kneel on his haunches. He pushed the silk trousers down his hips and his hard cock sprang free, framed by dark curls of hair. The silk robes he left in place, open and hanging just off his shoulders.
Francis watched eagerly, drinking in the sight of his king, his lover, as he took his royal cock in hand and began to stroke himself in long, firm strokes.
When Francis tore his eyes away for a moment and glanced up, he saw Hasim was looking back at him from under hooded eyes, and a pink blush was spreading across his nose and cheeks. Francis licked his lips, tongue wetting the dry parts.
Hasim let out a strangled cry and climaxed, his hand speeding up as he shot pearly white ribbons of come over Francis and the bed. Francis touched some of the hot pearls that had painted his hip bone, running his fingertips through thefluid as Hasim sank down onto the cushions beside him.
“You’ve messed up your beautiful bedding,” Francis teased him.
Hasim exhaled on a laugh. “I have many more silks for us to mess up.” He grabbed a pink silk to wipe them clean, then tossed it aside. “Only the finest silks in the land for you, my love.”
