Chapter 2: Temptation (6)
“Wake up!”
Hakan’s eyes finally regained focus. He grinned lazily when he recognized the person gripping his shoulders.
“Ah, if it isn’t our darling Ardwino.”
“Are you alright? You’ve had far too much of that drug……”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. More than fine. Perfect, in fact.”
Hakan reached out, his hands flailing near Ardwino’s face but failing to make contact. He seemed to have lost all sense of direction and distance. While Ardwino fretted, Hakan just chuckled, muttering nonsense.
“Stay still. Why do you keep moving away?”
Eventually, Ardwino let Hakan take his face in both hands. Hakan’s fingers traced his cheeks with satisfaction, his touch growing bolder by the second. At first, he merely cupped Ardwino’s face, stroking his earlobe and thumbing his cheekbone—but when his lips brushed Ardwino’s, the knight snapped back to his senses. He pulled away.
“I should go.”
“Go? Where?”
Hakan slung an arm over Ardwino’s shoulder, practically dragging him into an embrace. He whined like a child, clinging to him.
“Don’t leave. Where could you possibly go? Stay with me. Please?”
Ardwino hesitated but forced himself to sound composed.
“This isn’t exactly the right situation for that……”
His gaze flicked down Hakan’s body—completely naked, not a thread on him. Ardwino quickly averted his eyes, only to lock onto the bare woman still in the room. She had been watching them this whole time, her own mind clearly addled.
Following Ardwino’s stare, Hakan noticed the woman and smirked in understanding.
“Bothers you, does it? Alright.”
Then he shoved her away with his foot.
“Get out. Now.”
“H-Hakan?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
Neither Ardwino nor the woman could stop him. She stumbled out, barely covering herself with her clothes. The moment the door shut, leaving just the two of them, Hakan began his real seduction.
Still draped over Ardwino’s neck, he pulled himself up on unsteady legs, whispering as he swayed toward him.
“Ardwino. Judging by your reaction, you haven’t touched a single woman, have you? I brought you here to please you, but this won’t do.”
“I’m not particularly interested……”
“No matter. If that’s the case, then I’ll just have to take care of you myself.”
“…What?”
Hakan yanked Ardwino forward. When Ardwino nearly tripped over the bed, he instinctively climbed onto it. Hakan pinned him down, straddling him with surprising skill despite his unsteady state.
“Don’t worry. I know my way around a man’s body. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
With that, Hakan pressed his lips to Ardwino’s. He seemed to enjoy the softness, nibbling lightly before slipping his tongue inside. As he explored Ardwino’s mouth, his hands roamed down his body—tracing the firm chest honed by years of training, skimming over the defined abs through his clothes, then gripping his cock over his pants. Already hard from just the kiss, Ardwino’s breath hitched.
Hakan smirked against his lips.
When he began rubbing Ardwino through his clothes, the knight’s body tensed further. His breath came in hot, desperate gasps. Then, suddenly, his tongue lashed out, entwining with Hakan’s.
Startled, Hakan faltered—just long enough for Ardwino to seize control. He cupped Hakan’s face, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his tongue sliding and teasing with surprising expertise. No—not surprising. Masterful.
His hands began exploring Hakan’s body, flicking and pinching his nipples before trailing down his stomach to grip his fully erect cock. The tip was already slick with precome. When Ardwino’s thumb circled it, Hakan jerked with a moan.
Ardwino stroked him with one hand while the other gripped his ass. When Hakan tensed, Ardwino focused on the sensitive head, keeping him distracted—until his fingers slipped between his cheeks, pressing against a place no one had ever touched before.
Pulling back, Ardwino licked Hakan’s damp chin, his darkened, flushed gaze dripping with lust.
“You seem surprised.”
His fingers teased the entrance, and Hakan didn’t know what to do with the unfamiliar sensation.
“I’ve been holding back, but if you keep tempting me like this… you’ll have to take responsibility.”
“Why are you… why are you touching me there?”
“I spent over a decade on the battlefield. Did you think a bunch of horny young men would just behave? My tent was packed every night. All of them begging for it—from me.”
Ardwino’s lips curled into a smirk, his voice low and sultry. His usually innocent, delicate features now radiated a dangerous allure. How had he hidden this side of himself?
“I’m quite skilled, you know. Aren’t you curious? If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
Hakan couldn’t look away. Up close, Ardwino’s eyes—light blue, he’d thought—were far more complex. The pale blue irises swirled with flecks of yellow, and where the two colors met, a hint of green bled in, like a flower in full bloom. He’d heard of heterochromia, of eyes with mismatched colors, but he’d never seen it in person. Never imagined it could be this mesmerizing.
“…Damn. You’re exactly my type.”
At Hakan’s murmur, Ardwino’s smile deepened.
“I’ll take that as permission.”
***
The room was in shambles—evidence of their frenzied passion.
Ardwino’s flailing hand had torn the curtain from its rod. The items on the table had long since crashed to the floor, unable to withstand the bed’s violent shaking. The chair Ronen had clung to lay overturned, the bedsheets half-hanging off, the dark crimson sheets stained white with spilled semen.
The Grand Duke had been relentless. He hadn’t left for days, pushing Ronen past his limits until his body was coated in nothing but the Grand Duke’s release. His flesh had betrayed him, writhing in pleasure against his will.
Too exhausted to move, Ronen lay sprawled facedown, his cheek pressed into the pillow. The Grand Duke, still brimming with energy, propped his chin in his hand, studying Ronen from head to toe. His gaze lingered on the deep bite marks along his neck—marks that shouldn’t have been there. Some fool had dared leave their trace on what belonged to him, and he wouldn’t stand for it.
Ronen’s flushed, sweat-slicked skin glowed like a sunset over untouched snow—pristine, white, and untrodden. Though he was slender, his bones stood out in sharp relief, honed not by training but by something far more delicate.
Something seemed to displease the Grand Duke. He sat up, swinging his legs off the bed and dressing piece by piece—shirt, pants, and finally the outer garment that had fallen with the chair.
Just as he reached for the door, he paused, as if remembering something. Ronen, still limp and facedown, barely registered the weight that dropped in front of him. His blurred vision caught a flash of pale green.
“A souvenir from the kingdom.”
With that, the Grand Duke unlocked the door and stepped out. Muffled voices followed—his and Osian’s, no doubt. The boy was likely reporting on the guests’ activities during his absence, the names of those who’d dared lay hands on Ronen. If Osian was honest (and he always was), those men would never be seen again.
The last thing Ronen heard was the Grand Duke’s voice: “Someone will come to tend to your hair.” By then, his consciousness was fading, the words sounding distant, as if carried on the wind.
With great effort, Ronen propped himself up and reached for the object on the pillow—a gold ring, intricately engraved, its center set with a thumb-sized raw gemstone. Nearly transparent, its pale green hue shimmered with an almost liquid depth.
He lifted his hand, turning the ring in the light. Knowing it came from the Ilknur Kingdom made it feel different somehow. Or was it just his imagination? Cold as the stone was, it seemed to hold the radiance of sunlight within it.
His gaze remained fixed on the gem, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
“The Ilknur Kingdom is nothing but stone and sand, they say. I can’t even picture it.”
A kingdom of barren rock and endless desert. As he tried to imagine it, his eyelids grew heavy with sleep. His voice, thick with exhaustion, slipped out unbidden:
“…Eckart.”
What had you been like there?
And now…… where are you? What are you doing?
His fingers stilled around the ring before it slipped from his grasp. Overcome by fatigue, Ronen surrendered to deep, dreamless sleep.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
