Boi Bride Read online

  “What is this?” He tried to keep his tone conversational.

  Taryn still visibly started at the question and glanced at him with banked anger. “These are my belongings.”

  Soren sighed inwardly at his wife’s continued distrust and dislike of him and looked over the boy’s shoulders. There was a pathetic pile of worn clothing packed next to a few books. Soren put a little distance between himself and Taryn, so as not to crowd him. “Do you have any sentimental attachment to any of your clothes?”

  Taryn gave him a look that clearly questioned Soren’s sanity. “Of course not.”

  Soren gestured to the Marsher servant. “Take them out and give them to someone in need.” To Taryn, he added, “As my wife, you will have the finest…garments.” He continued to struggle with the proper words for his unusual situation. Just because Taryn wore the dresses from the dowager queen didn’t mean he wanted to. Soren wasn’t sure what his wife would ultimately choose for clothing, nor could he predict what kind the court would expect from his male bride.

  Taryn didn’t object to the removal of what was really little more than rags, but he gasped and lunged forward when a small, wooden figure dropped from the folds of cloth. He caught it and hugged it close to his chest, as if guarding it from being taken.

  “What is that?” Soren used as gentle a tone as he knew how, his question purely one of curiosity, and he didn’t want his bride to worry.

  It didn’t help. Taryn looked at him with determination. “It’s nothing, just something my mother carved for me when I was little.”

  “Your mother?” Soren couldn’t imagine his own making figures from any material, let alone wood. She’d barely done needlepoint during her too-short life, a craft enjoyed with marvelous results from many ladies at court. “May I see?” He didn’t reach for it, opting instead to fold his arms to show he wasn’t trying to take it.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Taryn held it up. The figure was a bird with wings spread wide and done with such fine detail that Soren could imagine it to be real and taking flight.

  “Exquisite. Did she teach you?”

  Taryn’s eyes became moist. “No. The chieftain said it was not a fitting pastime for his son.”

  Soren allowed himself to consider for a brief moment how much the treaty would suffer if he returned to the longhouse and beat Hogard into the mud. Probably a lot, and as a prince, he’d learned long ago that he couldn’t indulge his every whim.

  He turned to Sam, who had been assigned the duty to travel with the duchess and hovered nearby. “Find something suitably protective to wrap my wife’s treasured possession for the journey.”

  “Yes, your highness.” Sam took off, likely happy to have something to do elsewhere. As with earlier, tension filled the air.

  Soren jutted his chin toward the trunk. “Is there anything else in there that you wish to protect?”

  “There are only my books. They’ll be fine in the trunk. I can keep them, can I not?” Once more, his bride looked at him with a mixture of defiance and fear.

  Soren wanted to wipe away both of those expressions. “Certainly.” He tried for a reassuring smile and figured he failed. “Perhaps you should take one of them to occupy your time during the journey.”

  “I intended to.”

  “Excellent.” A thought occurred to him, one that he believed Taryn would appreciate. “There is an old and extensive library at the palace. The Master of Books will be happy to give you a tour any time, I’m sure, and they are available for members of the court to borrow as much as they wish.”

  Finally, Taryn’s expression changed. His face didn’t exactly light up, but his joy showed through enough to be seen. “I’ve heard of it and am gratified to know I can avail myself of it.”

  Soren smiled at the response. “As my duchess, there will be very little you can’t have. I hope you will be happy in your new home.” Taryn dropped his gaze and said nothing. It was perhaps too much to expect, but the unguarded reaction over the library was very reassuring. And because Soren felt a sudden urge to kiss his bride, he backed off quickly. “I’ll leave you to finish your packing for the journey.”

  He wheeled around and almost ran from the temptation of putting his wife into the carriage for entirely different reasons than traveling. He needed to busy himself with the duties of his station and as commander of his men. Lengthening his stride, he shouted, “Rolf!”

  * * * *

  “We are making good progress, your highness. And my scouts ahead and behind us have reported no sign of ambush or of anyone tailing us.”

  Soren glanced at Rolf, who somehow always managed to flank him without allowing his horse to pull even with Soren’s. It was an admirable skill to have such control over a warhorse, and while Soren didn’t give a rat’s ass if his second in command rode side-by-side, he knew the man was a stickler for propriety. Even in their most drunken states, he’d never once addressed Soren in a familiar way.

  “I am relieved to hear it. I don’t want to think ill of my new father-in-law…”

  “But you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire treaty, wedding and all, is one giant ruse to take a Moorcondian prince hostage.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hmm. Having now met the man, I’m not sure he’s clever enough to plan such a feat.”

  “Perhaps not, but he has a certain cunning and is stupid enough to think it would work. We will stay vigilant, and I’m glad our somewhat late start won’t keep us from joining the rest of the men.”

  A good commander always considered the possibilities. He and the king were well-honed fighting men. Another contingent of soldiers had left the palace a day after Soren and was waiting in a strategic spot to either accompany their new duchess home or to fight to get their prince out of trouble. Either way, knowing their size would double by nightfall was reassuring.

  And thinking of his bride, Soren’s cock rallied from its bored slumber and his spirits lifted. It was as if he were in the first throes of a romantic crush, feelings he hadn’t had since he was a young man. He had to resist the temptation to turn his head to glimpse the carriage in which his wife rode. There was no way to see inside, naturally, but the urge to look was strong. The desire to halt the march, change places with Sam and cuddle his wife and more was even stronger. He rather enjoyed the impulse, and the anticipation it built in him. It wasn’t necessary for him to want Taryn, but Soren liked that he did. Their marriage could be a good one—if he managed to convince the boy that sex between two men was nothing to fear or be ashamed of. He would have to strive to make Taryn’s life a good one to help break down the wariness and distrust he saw in the boy’s eyes.

  “I have been thinking. The women picked by the queen to serve as my bride’s maids aren’t going to be appropriate under the unexpected circumstances. I’m sure Taryn would feel more comfortable with another boy, at least for purposes of tending to his more personal needs. That young cousin of yours still serves as a page at the palace, does he not?”

  “Indeed, your highness. Kexen has settled in well and appears to thrive. I doubt he will ever return to the family farm. In truth, he was never suited for country life.”

  “And he’s a cheery lad, as I recall from our one meeting.”

  “He is, yes. Kexen was born with a smile on his lips and is almost entirely unflappable. I believe he is well-liked among the palace servants.”

  “Do you think he’d be willing to serve as the duchess’ personal maid for bathing and dressing purposes?”

  “As he is a biddable lad, he will do as he is told. But in this case, I believe he would relish the opportunity. Not only will it raise his status, but he has always had an interest in clothing. When not in livery, his sartorial choices are quite…eye-catching.”

  Soren chuckled. Knowing his right-hand man as he did, the understatement spoke volumes about his cousin’s choices in how to dress. That might prove to be exactly what Taryn needed. No one had a map of what a male duchess was supposed t
o wear, and from what he’d seen so far, he doubted his bride would welcome being clothed as a woman for the rest of his days.

  “Then that is one problem solved. See to the arrangements as soon as we arrive.”

  “Yes, your highness.”

  Now Soren did give in to the desire to turn and look at the carriage. There were a dozen men between him and it, so that if they were attacked, his bride would have instant protection. And of course, there was nothing to see but the carriage itself, horses and outriders. Still, his mind pictured Taryn sitting on the plush seat, maybe reading. He wanted to see the boy for himself to make sure he was comfortable. Plus, it was time for a break in their journey.

  Yes, that all sounds logical. Too bad you can’t fool yourself into believing it. His hard cock agreed with his decision, found it perfectly reasonable, but that dumb and traitorous thing couldn’t be trusted. It had only one agenda, always.

  “I’m sure the duchess could use a brief break about now, and if we’re not being followed, there should be no harm in it. The men can relieve themselves at will, but the carriage is a big impediment in that regard.”

  “Understood, your highness.” Rolf peeled away and issued the order to halt.

  Dozens of men and horses couldn’t stop immediately, however, so it took some time to bring everyone and everything to a standstill. Soren capitalized on that fact to circle back to his bride. By the time the driver had stopped the carriage, Soren was positioned to dismount, hand the reins to a soldier and open the carriage door himself. He found Taryn blinking and yawning.

  “What is going on? Is there trouble?” Taryn straightened in his seat and whipped his gaze around.

  That was a telling sign. He expected trouble from his father, probably because he knew the man well—or maybe because he was part of some nefarious plan? No, Soren dismissed that thought in an instant. Taryn’s expression held real fear.

  “All is well.” Soren kept his tone soothing. “We are merely taking a short break. Come… You can stretch your legs and relieve yourself.” He held out his hand.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Taryn took it and let Soren help him down from the carriage. The moment the boy’s feet touched the ground, however, he snatched his hand back. After scanning his surroundings, Taryn headed into the woods. Soren trailed after him, keeping him in sight without hovering.

  Taryn stopped beside a tree. “I don’t need an escort for this,” he said with his back to him.

  Soren couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “I am aware, but these woods are known to harbor brigands. I can’t let you out of my sight.”

  Taryn hmphed as he lifted his skirts. Soren could appreciate how his grandmother had chosen a practical traveling dress. While very pretty, it was also lacking in the wide, voluminous layers that the ladies of the palace favored. It made this activity easier for his bride. It also gave Soren a glimpse of a well-trimmed calf, which shouldn’t have caught his attention at all—yet somehow did. It reminded him of how little of his bride’s body he’d actually seen, and for so long as they traveled, he wouldn’t have an opportunity to unwrap what was becoming a delectable package.

  His dick pulsed in physical emphasis of his thoughts. He approached Taryn just as the boy was shaking out his skirts. As the boy turned, Soren was right there to clasp him by the shoulders and back him against the tree. His bride looked up at him with wide eyes and a hint of resentment laced with fear. He hated seeing both, but the latter at least he could tackle. Slowly, he lowered his mouth toward Taryn’s lips. He wanted his bride to see what was coming and to know it wasn’t intended to be an assault.

  The boy’s lips were soft and delicious. The previous night, he’d used kissing to distract his bride from the pain of penetration. And as his focus had been to finish as quickly as possible, he hadn’t been able to appreciate this simple claiming. Now, he gave all his attention to the feel of Taryn’s mouth, and when he prodded with his tongue, the taste of it. Taryn stood stiff in his arms at first. As Soren deepened the kiss, that changed. The boy relaxed enough for Soren to angle his head to claim his mouth even more.

  He slid his hands up to his bride’s neck, then cupped his face. Instinctively, he moved closer until their bodies touched. That’s when Taryn jerked and tore himself from Soren’s grasp. The boy’s chest heaved with deep breaths, and there was that combination of feelings that Soren hated to see on his bride’s face. He tried to kiss him again, but Taryn evaded him.

  “Don’t.”

  “I only mean to kiss you.” It was mostly the truth, although his hard dick, something Taryn had surely felt, was contesting that assertion.

  “That’s not true.” Taryn’s gaze slid to the side. “We need to return. What will your men think if we linger out here?”

  “They will think we, as a newly married couple, are enjoying each other’s company.”

  Taryn grimaced. “I will not be the butt of their lewd jokes.”

  “No one would dare disrespect you, and what kidding they do among themselves will be good-natured. My men are loyal to me and now devoted to you.” Soren tried to take his bride in hand once more and was rebuffed again.

  “Then how about this— I’m too sore. The carriage makes for any easier place to sit than a saddle, but your…attention has caused me discomfort that hasn’t abated.”

  Soren wasn’t surprised by this news and inwardly cursed himself for not being sensitive enough to his bride’s needs. Things were a little different this time around with his marriage, and he had to adjust his expectations accordingly.

  “That is another matter entirely, my dear.” He took hold of one of Taryn’s hands, no easy feat, given how the boy tried to evade him. Then he led him over to a large nearby rock and perched himself on top of it. He drew Taryn into the space between his legs. “There are other ways for us to give each other pleasure.”

  Taryn threw him a mulish look. “What do you mean?”

  “Kneel down and I’ll show you.” Again there was resistance, although not outright rebellion. It took little effort to put his bride where he wanted. Lifting his tunic, he clasped his erection through his trousers. “You can see how much I want you, and I won’t apologize for that. I am a man of lustful appetites, and it’s rare for me to go more than a day without sexual release.”

  Fury burned in Taryn’s eyes. “Wasn’t this morning enough for you?”

  “Frankly, no.” He cupped his bride’s face with his other hand. “I want you, Taryn. That is a good thing in a marriage.”

  “But I don’t want you! Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “Yes, it does, except I’m not sure you’re telling me the truth. Look down, my dear.”

  Taryn’s gaze didn’t budge. “I don’t need to.”

  “You feel your own arousal, do you not?” When Taryn failed to answer, Soren did it for him. “You must. I can see it, given how thin your shift and dress are. You don’t dislike my touch, do you?”

  A shudder racked the boy’s frame before he answered. “The kissing was nice.”

  Soren grinned. “There now… That’s not so bad, is it?” He worked the lacings of his trousers to free his dick. It sprang forward in eagerness. “I was hard for you even before then. I mean to ease my discomfort before getting back in the saddle.”

  “Can’t someone else handle that for you? I get the impression your squires do more than clean your clothing.”

  “That’s very perceptive of you. But I won’t ask for that kind of service from them anymore. I am a simple man in many ways, and I have a code of conduct that I adhere to. One of those rules is that I take my marriage vows seriously. I will not seek my pleasure elsewhere now that we are wed.”

  “Huh! That makes you different than any other man I’ve known.” Taryn was clearly not willing to believe him.

  Soren forced the boy’s chin up and ran his thumb over his pretty lips. “I am a Moorcondian prince. I would like to think that I am different than most men.”

  “And yet you have m
e kneeling before you like a supplicant.”

  “It is not intended to be demeaning, simply logistically beneficial.”

  Taryn’s eyes flashed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I want your mouth.”

  “M-my mouth? There?” Taryn’s gaze fixed on Soren’s cock. His eyes had widened, so Soren couldn’t miss the boy’s blown pupils.

  “That’s right. I think you’ll find it enjoyable. I know I will, and I’ll gladly return the favor, if you want.”

  “No.”

  Soren wasn’t sure what that one word was in response to, but he couldn’t afford to waste more time finding out. Moving his hand to the back of Taryn’s head, he gently pressed it forward and down to reach his cockhead. Taryn resisted only a little bit for a short time. It might have been his true desire emerging or simply due to his life-long experience that resistance was futile. In any event, Soren’s higher brain functioning shorted out as soon as those luscious lips touched his dick.

  When Taryn didn’t open his mouth, Soren used his other hand to encourage his jaw to unhinge. The moment the lips parted a fraction, he fed his cock past them and into the wet heat of the boy’s mouth. He had to suppress the groan, fearing that his men would hear too much of his pleasure. He didn’t mind for himself but didn’t want Taryn to feel more embarrassment than he already did. When the boy remained passive, he urged him to respond.

  “Use your tongue to lave my shaft and suck as you do so. It will make me come faster,” he added, hating to use a negative incentive, yet determined to work past his bride’s resistance to him with whatever means possible.

  And it worked. Taryn proved a quick study and a natural cocksucker. His velvety tongue worked the bundle of nerves underneath Soren’s glans, and he began a rhythmic sucking that coaxed Soren’s already-primed dick. He whipped his handkerchief from his sleeve to be the receptacle of his spending and pulled his cock out of Taryn’s mouth at the onset of coming. The force of it caused him to double over and he fisted his fingers in Taryn’s hair. He grunted as the last of the cum spurted out and straightened.