Addictive Chocolate n' Vanilla (BMWM)

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Under The Crowns Command

“How long have we known each other Ira?“, King Harry asked his personal servant as he stared into the large mirror in his bed chamber.

The toffee colored young man continued to prepare the royal for bed, “Since we were children, sire”, he answered, stepping back to observe the royal, “after my parents sold me to the crown. You saved me from being sent off to the militaries and instead begged I become your playmate and personal servant”, he explained, indifferent to his past after all the time past.

King Harry listened intently as he harked back to the distant memory, “I don’t usually beg for anything”, he said blankly, doing up the buttons of his night shirt. Although it was not framed as a question, Ira knew he was supposed to answer.

“No, sire”, he responded, hazel green eyes trained on the polished floorboards, “you are a man of direct action.” That was one of the many qualities that made him a great king and leader to their country.

Once finished with his assigned duties, Ira folded his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for his next orders, “Is that all sire?“, he asked softly, looking up at him to find the king staring back at him. He didn’t know why it was so hard to look away from those green eyes, but he secretly wished to find out.

Then King Harry looked away, correcting himself, “No”, he answered simply, walking away, “there is one more thing that I wish to ask of you.”

Ira forced himself to not follow his form with his eyes, “What is it you desire, sire?“, he bowed, ready to complete any task his king required.

The brunette was quiet for a moment, moving over to his large bed and sitting on its edge. He rolled his neck before relaxing his shoulders and speaking again, “Share my bed tonight.”

Ira thought he had heard him incorrectly. He just had to, “I- I beg your pardon, sire”, he said, after multiple failed attempts to find his voice, “I seem to have misheard you.”

King Harry’s gaze never faltered, looking up at him with green eyes gleaming him determination, “I wish to make love to you.”

Ira’s mouth open wide before he snapped it shut, “Sire, y- you can’t.” This was inappropriate. He was but a humble servant and he a king. His job was the serve, but he doubted it had ever came down to that.

His eyes darkened almost immediately as the defiant words left his lips, “I can’t, you say?“, the royal raised an eyebrow at him and Ira pressed his lips together, “Remind me, Ira who wears the crown?

Ira bowed his head at the authoritative tone, already knowing the answer, “Y- you, sire”, he whispered, lowering his head in apology. He was to never speak down on the king, even in times like this.

His submission pleased King Harry, “Indeed”, he rectified, lifting his chin to meet his gaze, “and with the power invested in my title I shall do whatever I wish and I wish to bed you”, he brought his hand up, kissing the knuckles softly, ”if you shall have me.” He spoke with such vulnerable want, something not common for a king and to him, a servant of all people. The weight of his words was not lost on him and it was crippling.

Ira felt as if his knees would give out under him in a moments time. They last thing he wanted was to collapse in a ball of stupidity in front of King Harry. With that in mind, he told a deep breath before speaking, “It is whatever you desire of me, your highness.”

* * * * * *

“Oh my-“, Ira’s head fell back as his body spasmed on its own accord. His thighs squeezed around King Harry’s narrow waist, his hands fisting the pure silk of his bedding. He had forgotten how to breath, his body taking that space to make room to make other accommodations for his master. He didn’t think he would ever adjust to the long member sitting inside of him. This was so different; so strange and it made his shoulders shake with overwhelming emotions, tear track rubbing down his cheeks as he cried out in pain at the slightest movement.

"Shh”, King Harry coed, rough voice soft like rumbling thunder before lightening strikes, “it’s okay, my darling”, he told him, cupping his face in his hand, thumbing the tears from his high caramel cheeks. He had never felt so at home than now while he was buried inside him. It was absolutely divine. He wanted nothing more than to repeatedly bury himself inside him until he had filled him with his seed and passion. However, his concern for Ira was far more important than his own sexual gratification.

Soothed by his gently touch, Ira relaxed slightly, blinking away his tears as he looked up at the other man with wet green eyes. His beautiful pale skin glistening in the moonlight, his green eyes almost translucent yet glittered with unabashed desire dancing over his face. He did not know what it must’ve felt like for him, but he was not the same.

“S- si- sire”, Ira squeaked out, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t take it; he just couldn’t, “I-”

“No”, Harry silenced, pressing his long finger to his parted lips. Ira was confused for a moment, frozen at the thought of disobeying the other man. The brunette took his hand in his a brought to to his cheek, pressing his lips against his palm before releasing it. “Harry”, he breathed out like a sweet wind on his skin, “just...please address me by my name.” This was not some power dynamic between them nor was he one of his old mistresses, but two people exploring one another in the most vulnerable of ways.

The request made his heart skip a beat; he had never been allowed to use his first name before. The meaning not lost upon him either, he told a breath under his ivy gaze and nodded, “It is whatever you wish....H- Harry”, he murmured with a small smile; the two simple syllables brought butterflies to his chest and a flush to Harry’s cheeks. He hesitantly reached out to touch the man, his hands resting on his upper arms but not daring to go any farther.

Harry’s eyes closed as his nervous hands mapped up his arms, wanting to savor his gentle touch on skin. Unable to resist his urges any longer, he swooped downward, pressing his mouth to his cheek, his sharp jawline, his neck and then drew back, pausing for a moment before leaning down to meet his soft pink lips.

Ira froze beneath him for a moment, before slowly realizing what he was supposed to do. He hesitantly began to kiss back, surprised as Harry gripped his head, darting his tongue inside his mouth. He shyly met his more dominating one with little to no resistance; his mouth was far more experienced than his own. He kissed the same way he was behaved; authoritative, commanding and overpowering. The way his hands roamed and scoured his body as if it was land he intended to conquer.

Slowly, he began to move, withdrawing slightly, dragging a long cry from Ira’s lips. He immediately halted, sitting up, his forearms moving up on either side of his head. Once he was adjusted, he pushed his hips forward. It’s bit his lip painfully hard in a failed attempt to hold back his outcry. His body was ablaze with pain and he could not contain it no matter how hard he tried as Harry continued to redraw and reenter him, heart panging with every sound that fell from his lips.

Harry couldn’t bear to look at the pain written on his beauty’s face any longer, stuffing his face into the crook of his beloved’s neck. His whimpers of pain broke his heart; he wished to take it all away from him if he could. "You are magnificent.“, he murmured against the flesh her his neck, the air like molten lava on his sweat slick coffee skin. "Long have I desired to have you in my bed.“, he admitted, unable to hide his hearts desire any longer. Long had he admired the brown boy from afar, but no that he had him in his arms, he wished to hide it no more.

“To be beneath me; inside of you.”

Ira could only gasp and huff as he the thrusted inside of him, his length hard and leaking on his lower stomach. His fingers knotted in the bedspread, itching to touch and caress the man who is giving him such unspeakable pleasure. Yet his training and upbringing keeping him from doing so. He had no right to touch such a man as King Harry, yet this was not him. This was Harry and Harry freely admired his frail lithe frame; it was only fair he be allowed the same courtesy.

Growing confident, he began to explore the nobleman’s body. Every crease, vein and hair, mapping out his body. Trailed down his abdomen, the rough pads of his thumbs grazing over his scars from war and battle. Harry was such a charming and compassionate ruler yet strong and tactile in war; a true force to be reckoned with to all how oppose him. He could not imagine being here in this man’s martial bed being so thoroughly loved and cared for from the man he felt was so far from his reach. His hands moved beneath the sheets that cloaked their sinful deeds, resting on Harry’s strong hips as he drove into his body. He could feel the powerful muscles of his body moving as he thrusted. Every inch of love and passion, he felt it in vibrations of pleasure throughout his body.

Harry laid his full weight on top of Ira, lost in the throws of pleasure around his tightness. He snaked an arm around Ira’s slim waist, fucking into him in earnest as he tried to find new angles with his hips, wanting to give Ira the same pleasure he offered him selflessly. It takes a few tries, but then Ira’s eyes went wide and a scream dying on his lips; he felt his body tense from the inside out, arching in pleasure and squeezing him in delicious torture as he trembles against him.

“O- ah! H- Ha- Harry”, he choked out in an incredibly small voice , head lulling back in ecstasy, body still meeting every perfect plunge into him despite not understanding what he was receiving. Pride swelled in his chest; it felt good to do something for the man who so often fulfilled his every desire. He wanted nothing more than give, give all he could to Ira. He wanted to take her to the heavens by his own hand.

His hand went between their bodies and Ira’s back arched as he wrapped his large hand around his neglected cock. He hissed when his hips chanted forward into his palm, moving back and forth on his cock. Harry’s hips moved forward on their own accord, images of Ira on his lap, sunken down on his cock, his head throws back in pleasure. He swore to himself then and there that this would not be the last time he shared his bed with Ira.

With renewed determination, Harry pumped Ira’s erection between them, focused urgently on Ira’s need for release. He reveled in the sounds that left Ira’s mouth, aligning his thrusts with his strokes to receive a cry of his name so divine and filthy that even the church’s choirs couldn’t rival it.

It doesn’t take much more for Harry to feel the tell tale constricting of Ira’s walls around his length

Short nails dug painfully into his lower back, his eyes rolling back until only the white of his eyes were visible. “H- Harrrrryyy!”, the force of his orgasm overwhelmed him, his vision going blank as he spilled hard into Harry’s hand and their bellies. It was as if he was having an out of body experience, everything in his body being drained out from his limp cock. He couldn’t help but let out a sob, wrapping his limbs around the royal, needing him close; needing him to keep him grounded.

Harry never stopped working himself inside of him. A smirk tugged on his lips as he allowed him to latch onto him, lapping at the sweat covering his nape. Nothing in his kingdoms could compare to the sight of Ira coming apart at his own hand, both figuratively and literally. All the while, Harry’s hips never ceased motion as he repeatedly slammed himself deep inside him as he came. His brows were knitted together tightly, as if trying to fill him with him seed and impregnate his with his babe.

Ira could not describe what it felt like to as Harry emptied himself inside him. The feeling of his warm seed exploding inside his canal. Once he was completely spent, Harry muscles turned to mush, going slack on top of Ira’s body. Ira was positively ravished, his legs still clinging stubbornly around Harry, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to lose this. Harry did not seem to mind, caressing the outside of his thighs, planting kisses on his shoulder as they both basked in the after-glow of their lovemaking.

However, all good things must come to and end at some point. As the euphoria from their lovemaking sedated, the dread and fear began to settle into Ira’s abdomen. He was utterly mortified for what they had done; what he had done. What was to come of him now? Would King Harry send him on his way. He could not imagine losing the closest thing he had to a home; all for the temporary throes of passion with an untouchable man. Bile began to rise in his throat as he felt his soft dick still buried deep in his body, his seed dripping from his rim.

“Release yourself from you ceaseless thoughts, my darling.”

A lump appeared in his throat at King Harry sudden proclamation, his voice like crackling lightening in a stormy night. Then the man had sat up, his chin resting on Ira’s chest as he looked at him. The utter adoration and love in his eyes made his heart skip a beat, his fear subsiding significantly.

The older reached up to cup his cheek, not carrying for the cum that still covered his fore fingers. Ira couldn’t help but to melt into his touch, his eyes fluttering shut at the gently caress before he pulled away.

When Ira opened his eyes again, green locked with green and a soft smile tugged of the monarch’s cheeks, “I would like nothing more than to stay like this”, he murmured in the dead of night, the rapines of his voice forever raising the hairs of Ira’s neck, “inside of you; with you”, he paused momentarily, eyes glossed over before he brought his gaze back to his face, ”if you would allow it....” No longer did he try to mask his begging, kingly pride no match for the raw desire and love for the man before him.

“W- would you bathe me?“, Ira requested meekly. They were both a mess of sweat, semen and blood, no doubt something bizarre for the chambermaid to clean in the morning. Despite the intimacy they shared, he felt smaller than before. He could not handle the rawness of the emotion garnered towards him; the Royal’s vulnerability and trust hanging over him like the stars in the night sky. Had he offended his Royal Highness? Had he spoken out of turn?

Harry put his worries to rest, pressing his lips to his in a sweet and soft kiss before pulling away to Ira’s glazed expression, “Whatever you command, my darling, it will be.” It was blasphemy to request such a thing from a King, but Harry would do anything Ira asked him twice over and more. His crown meant nothing when it came to his childhood beloved. He was under his command.

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