Nine Times

Rhys walked into his room, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it. He truly appreciated the hospitality of anyone he stayed with- they were always more than willing to open their doors for him- but the round of feasts and dances were often more exhausting than travel. He was looking forward to a good night's sleep- hopefully without having to eject another woman from his bed.

Reputations led to women throwing themselves at him, and one of the more annoying forms that it took was returning to his rooms in the evening to find one in his bed, entirely nude and trying to look sensual. He'd taken to walking them out of his room, not stopping to put their clothes on. He knew it was crude, but it was better than spending half an hour arguing with them when he could be sleeping.

He walked to the bed, pushing back the curtains to see who would be in it tonight- he had had a few returning visitors, as apparently some of the maids weren't made of the brightest stock.

Instead, he found himself staring at a boy- he couldn't be more than seventeen- licking his lips nervously, and quite, quite naked.

Before Rhys could get a word out, the boy started babbling. "I'd been hearing stories, Lord, how you made all the women leave and that you didn't want to sleep with them, it was all over the castles, and I thought that you might let a man- and so I thought it wouldn't be so bad if you made me leave and please, Lord, don't, I can be very good, and I really want this, please?"

Rhys held up a hand and the redhead stopped chattering. "Lad- Thomas, right? Thomas de Casson? I'm not going to deny that it was a pleasant surprise to find something other than a woman in my bed. But you should put on your clothes and go so you don't shame your family."

Thomas gave him a pleading look. "Sir Rhys, I... I don't care if I'm shaming my family, I want you to, to have me, please, I do."

He pushed the blankets down, showing that he was wearing about as much as most of the women who came to his bed, then kneeled, hands clasped in front of him imploringly. Rhys couldn't resist a look- Thomas had judged right, he would react more favourably to a man showing up in his bed. The boy was slight- his hands were inkstained, which corresponded with his idea of him- they'd talked at one of the feasts, and he was rather bookish, rather than one of the squires or apprentice knights.

"Thomas, you're a sweet boy. But you're far too young, and- I'm not doing this just because you have some mad idea in your head that it would make me happy, or something. Look, if you... put your clothes back on... we can talk. I can tell you stories."

"I don't want stories. I know what I want, sir." Thomas was closer now, his eyes wide and sincere and dark. He was slightly flushed, and when he pressed close... Rhys closed his eyes briefly, trying to marshal his self-control. The redhead was aroused, and Rhys needed all his strength to stay calm, taking a step back as he took a deep breath of Thomas's scent.

"I can't give it to you, Thomas. I'm far older than you are and I'd rather not find myself removed from the castle."

Rhys's protests weren't doing much good as Thomas came off the bed and pressed himself up against him, his voice breathless. "I won't tell anyone. They'll never find out, and sir, I want you so badly. I have ever since we've met, please?"

Rhys backed up again, pushing the hand that Thom had been sliding up his tunic away. "Lad, please. You're lovely, really, but I'm a thousand years older than you are. I can't do this to you. Find a nice girl, settle down..."

Thomas went up on his toes and kissed Rhys- passionately, if inexpertly. "I don't like girls. It's always been boys. And I really, really want you. Everyone wants you. Please, I'll do anything for you. Everything."

Rhys tried not to react, straightening up out of Thomas's reach, his throat dry. "I've no doubt you would, but Thomas, you can't. I can't. You're..." Unlacing Rhys's breeches. Rhys grabbed his hands and held them- they were shaking slightly, as much as his own hands were.

"Sir, please, I'm begging you. Take me, please?" Thomas looked up at him, licking his lips slowly.

Rhys tried to object again, but between the thin body pressed up against him and the desire on Thomas's face, his own lust was becoming absolutely unignorable. "Thomas, this is not a good idea. Stop it."

"It's a very good idea. An excellent idea. Please, Lord, I want you so badly." Rhys's body was responding- every cell of him wanted to take Thomas's offer and corrupt him thoroughly, show him things he'd probably never even dreamed of. Of course, his mind was panicking, trying to get him to show Thomas the door and make him stop being so appealing.

That part was getting quieter by the second, as Thomas shifted his hips, rubbing against things that were getting harder by the second. "Spirits, Thomas, please don't..."

"I'm not leaving until I get what I want, sir. And I know you'll give it to me." Thomas nuzzled his neck slowly, flicking his tongue out to taste Rhys's skin, making a little sound, almost a moan, as Rhys reacted, his hips pressing more into Thomas's.

Traitorous body. Rhys tried to control himself, but it was impossible. He leaned his head to the side, exhaling softly as Thomas bit down, sending shivers through his body. "Ahh, lad..."

"You want it, I want it, please stop fighting, sir..." The boy pulled him down- his hands were light, and Rhys could have shrugged them off, but he let Thomas kiss him, clumsily- and nervously, no matter what he was trying to pretend.

Rhys's mind gave in under the weight of needing what Thomas wanted to give him and he kissed back, gently at first, showing Thomas how it was done. He learned quickly and the kiss heated up as Rhys pushed him back against the bed, one hand holding the boy tight to him. He was hungry for this, almost predatorial. He scraped his teeth over Thomas's lower lip, his breath catching at the whimper it caused, and pressed him down flat, hand roaming over his chest.

Thomas finally pulled away, gasping for air. "Mm, sir... more?"

Rhys closed his eyes, grasping for some thread of control, but he couldn't find any. The way Thomas felt under him made him want to do some thorough ravishing, he knew the boy would let him do anything he'd like to do, and what he wanted to do was...

Well, he started with another kiss, hands roaming over Thomas's body, exploring, seeing which places made him buck and moan, avoiding touching the boy's cock even while he begged for it wordlessly, writhing and panting.

He pulled up to look, ignoring Thomas's hands that tried to pull him back down. "I'm still all dressed, pretty lad. And with you bein' all naked..."

He didn't push Thomas's hands away when they started to undress him this time, distracted by the way Thomas looked, feverish and desperate. The boy fumbled with the lacings, but managed to get his tunic and shirt off, before becoming far too busy stroking and caressing Rhys through the fabric of his breeches to do anything about them.

"Ahhthoseneed..." Rhys tried to make his mind work. "Off, pretty lad..."

Thomas nodded quickly and tugged them down as fast as he could without ripping them. Rhys gave a sigh of relief as his cock sprang free, relishing the look that Thomas gave it. "Touch it, Thom."

He did, running a slim hand over the head and down the shaft, clever fingertips exploring each ridge. "It's w-warm..."

Rhys grunted, gritting his teeth as his eyes closed in pleasure. "Don't stop..."

Thomas didn't, stroking with his other hand now, too. They worked steadily, until Rhys was sagging on top of him, muffling moans and gasps and groans in Thomas's mouth, kissing him deeply.

He thrust into Thomas's hands, his cock pulsing. "Ahh, Thomas, good lad, Thomas..." A small part of him was trying to say that he should stop now and save some for later, but the animal, physical part of him demanded satisfaction, now, because those small hands were amazing and the sounds Thomas made were better and he could make Thomas climax in other ways...

He burst with a jerk, his seed spattering all over Thomas's hands and their bodies... mm, he'd have to clean that up, as soon as he could move again.

He opened his eyes to see Thomas watching him and absently licking some of the fluid off of his fingers, purring like a kitten. Rhys grinned and kissed him hard, noting when he pulled away that Thomas's lips were almost bruised. He'd have to be more careful, even if it didn't seem like Thomas minded.

He leaned over, delicately licking Thomas's chest clean, chuckling quietly as Thomas moaned, his back arching into Rhys's mouth. "Sir, please, I need... please..."

Rhys knew what he needed, and he'd give it to him, eventually. He circled his tongue around one of Thomas's nipples, teasing the sensitive skin there and then biting lightly, sucking and flicking his tongue over it. The boy wrapped his hands in the coverlet, tugging and jerking, whimpering brokenly.

Finally, when it didn't seem like Thomas could take anymore, Rhys moved downwards, licking slow stripes across Thomas's stomach, purring at the breathless gasps and faint giggles- Thomas was ticklish. Rhys dipped his tongue into Thomas's bellybutton, chuckling when the boy twitched, and then bit his hip sharply.

Thomas cried out softly, his eyes screwed tightly shut. Rhys peppered nips and bites around his inner thigh, still avoiding his cock, which was probably painfully hard by now, glistening with moisture. The older man worked his way up Thomas's leg to the base of his cock, snaking his tongue out for a quick lick, grinning when he was rewarded with a whine.

He pulled back a little, laying a gentle kiss on the tip of the boy's cock before starting to suck it into his mouth, running his tongue around the head. Thomas yelped, his voice cracking as he jerked his hips up, pushing his cock further into Rhys's mouth.

Once, twice, and he was done, sagging on the mattress as Rhys licked him clean, chuckling. Rhys crawled back up to kiss his neck gently. "Not to worry, lad. There's plenty of night yet."