The great king turned from the open window, the curtains caught in the summery breeze, and the rustling of papers on his desk putting him on edge. Sinbad's eyes narrowed, his gaze landing on Judal leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, a peach in his hand with a single bit mark.
Sinbad swallowed hard, his large muscles rolling beneath his cloak as his mind was fogged by all the different ways Judal's small, sharp teeth had branded his own body. He shook his head of the thought, brandishing his sword.
"Judal," he spat, glaring at the magi, a bead of perspiration trembling over his creased brow.
The offender stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind him, and lightly batted Sinbad's weapon aside; the sword was trembling, Judal noticed with a grin. The king was thinking of him.
"Take a night off work, Sinboy," the magi teased him, skirting behind the larger man like a sly cat. His bare arm brushed the king's clothing, and Sinbad's grip on the hilt of his weapon tightened. He watched in anger his knuckles go white.
"You shouldn't be here," the king growled, turning to face the intruder, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Judal shrugged, casting a glance out the window. Music from the festivities below could still be heard drifting up to the room. He wondered with a sly grin if anyone below would hear Sinbad's screams that night and wonder what they were.
"And from what I hear, Sin, you should have picked out a wife by now," the impish magi remarked, tilting his head to examine the anger creasing Sinbad's red face. "I wonder what's taking you so long?" he pondered, taking another bite of his peach.
The king's arm trembled as he directed his sword at Judal, placing the blade at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. "You shouldn't be here," he repeated in a low, tense growl.
The magi brushed the sword aside, venturing closer to his prey. Their bodies were only centimeters apart, and Sinbad could smell peaches. "So violent tonight, Sin. But don't worry, I'll tame you, king." He stood up on the tips of his toes, reaching forward to mash his cool lips against Sinbad's.
The king barely heard the clattering of his sword as it fell to the ground; his mind reeled, possessed by the taste of peaches on Judal's lips, the sensation of his body pressed against the magi's too much pleasure for one person to be allowed.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, but his voice had lost the firm, commanding tone that made people respect him as a king. Judal only laughed, pushing the larger man onto his bed, straddling his waist. Arousal coiled in the king's taut abdomen, his muscles constricting beneath Judal's touch.
"Take a night off," Judal grinned, tossing his peach up and down in his hand. Sinbad glanced at it, wondering how the boy had managed to keep hold of his food during such a crucial moment. "Let's play a little game, Sinboy, just you and me. Tonight, you're mine."
Sinbad's eyes narrowed, his large hand draped across the slender magi's bare back. He could feel Judal's racing pulse, his own clamoring in his ears. Judal placed a finger to Sinbad's lips, coaxing his mouth open, and inserted the peach.
"Hang on to that, Sin," he smirked, eyes alight with lust as he observed the king's displeasure with his makeshift gag. Desire rolled through the magi's body; Sinbad's jaw was going to be stiff in the morning.
"We're going to play tonight," he purred, pulling out two strong pieces of rope. The king lurched forward, not ready to let Judal tie him up. He didn't trust him for that.
But the magi forced him down against the bed, tying the rope too tight against the king's wrist, a jolt of pleasure arching his spine as a hiss of pain escaped the king's gagged mouth.
"Be good, Sinboy. You're mine tonight." He grinned, reaching for the other arm. Sinbad kept it from the magi, and Judal glared at him, rubbing the king's chest. "Don't you trust me?" he asked, pouting. "You're going to hurt my feelings, Sin."
The king growled, and Judal watched with satisfaction his jaw locking around the peach that trapped the insults within his talented mouth. "That's better," he grinned, taking Sin's arm and tying it to the bed, being even less gentle this time.
"I'll undress myself," he purred, sliding out of his clothes and tossing them aside. He watched color flood the king's face. He would never grow tired of that. "And I'll get yours too, Sin," he added, tearing the fabric from around his captive's chest. "I hope you have more of those," he chuckled, pelting the man's bare stomach with eager kisses.