Bee Among the Clover (62 page)

R
OMAN looked around to make sure everything in the room was ready.
Wulfgar’s bedding had been turned down, and he’d made the pallet at the
foot of the thane’s bed larger in case Aron preferred to sleep there instead
of in Wulfgar’s embrace. That was if the thane would even let Aron out of his bed. He might not, all things considered. Wulfgar had liked to keep
Roman close, too, at first. The thane had a habit of waking utoo, at first. The thane had a habit of waking up randy in the middle of the night.
Roman sat down next to the large tub and wrapped his arms around his knees. There wasn’t much else he could do without Aron. The bath was readied, the sconces burned brightly, and the fire was roaring. The
special soap Roman made himself sat beside the large tub, as well as a pile of thick cloths to dry Aron with.
He sighed. He couldn’t decide how he felt about this new development. He didn’t like change in the least. It upset the delicate
balance he had created for himself. However, he empathized with Aron.
He knew what the other man was going through, the loss of freedom, the injured pride, the reluctance to accept one’s fate. A part of him, though,
was relieved. Roman felt rather guilty about it, but as much as he’d gotten
used to Wulfgar and being his bed slave, a reprieve from his duties, even a
temporary one, wasn’t unwelcome.
He glanced up as the door to the chamber swung open and straightened as Aron made his way in on unsteady feet. Aron shut the door
behind him and leaned against it for a moment. Roman’s eyes widened.
His cheeks were rosy, and his eyes were unfocused. Aron was tipsy,
perhaps even more than tipsy.
Roman rose gracefully to his feet and smiled, though he wasn’t quite
sure what to say under the circumstances. “Come. The water is hot. You look tired.”
And scared and so vulnerable.
He wondered if he had looked
the same way just after he had arrived.
Aron blinked and turned hazy eyes on him, not moving from his
spot. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head, glancing down at the leash in his hand. He fumbled with the clip, finally managing to get it undone, and dropped it on the floor before looking back at him.
“Your name is Roman?”
Roman hesitated for a second, then nodded. “It is what I’m called.” He took a few steps forward and held out his hand, giving Aron a small smile, not wanting to upset him. “Come, the bath is ready. It will make you feel better.”
Aron rolled his eyes but allowed Roman to lead him over to the large tub. “What would make me feel better is to go home,” he muttered, biting back a yawn and frowning when he stumbled; Roman had to steady him. He lifted his head and met Roman’s gaze. “I think he’ll probably be too drunk to do anything. Can’t I just go to sleep?”
Roman shook his head and steadied Aron as he stepped into the tub. Aron sank into the water, letting out a soft breath, and Roman finally spoke. “I doubt Wulfgar will be too drunk to do anything. I think that would take more ale than we have.”
Roman drew off his tunic to keep it from getting wet as Aron leaned his head back against the lip of the tub. Roman felt a tug of sympathy for him, but at least Aron was not as furious and terror-stricken as he had been when Wulfgar had first dragged him into the feast. That might make what was to come easier on him. Roman started to run the cloth over Aron’s chest and arms, making sure to keep his touch gentle and soothing. He doubted that the thane would show the same care later on.
“Have you ever been with a man before?” Roman asked softly. He suspected that the answer was no, and that was confirmed when Aron’s blue eyes flew back open to clash with his.
“No,” was the scornful reply. The fear returned to the young man’s eyes, drawing a stab of compassion from Roman. It all brought back so many memories of his own experiences. It was disconcerting, and he shook them off, focusing on the task at hand.
Roman shook his head. “There’s no shame in what you’ll do, Aron. It’s common in many cultures, though not so much here. The thane tricked you, aye, but your reasons for agreeing in the first place were well meant.” He urged Aron to stand up and gathered some more soap. He ran the cloth over the strong planes of Aron’s stomach and the hard columns of his thighs. He had such a beautifully made body. Wulfgar would be pleased. Why that thought gave him so much sorrow, he didn’t know. It was none of his concern.
Aron looked down at Roman kneeling beside the tub. It was like watching someone else being bathed. He felt foolish. He was a grown man and could bathe himself, but he hadn’t the strength or will to push Roman away. He predicted he had far more important things to worry about than washing himself.
He sat back down when Roman urged him to, watching in bemusement as the soap rinsed off his skin, then looked over at the slave, who was scrubbing gently along one arm.
“Why do you do it? Why don’t you run? Does Wulfgar hold your family over you as well?”
Roman hesitated, then met Aron’s eyes. Sighing, he shook his head. “No, Aron, he does not. I did run, once. It did me no good, and… I learned my lesson.” There was a shadow in his dark eyes that had Aron wanting to press him further, but then Roman seemed to shake it off and gave him a small, tight smile as he resumed washing him, this time moving on to his hair.
“I submit because it’s in my nature to do so. You need not submit as I do, Aron, but you will obey, and in a year, this will all be but a memory for you. Take comfort in that.” Roman rinsed the soap from Aron’s hair, laying his hand on his brow to keep the soapy water from stinging his eyes. “Life can still be sweet, even as a captive.”
“I just want to go home,” Aron muttered. He wanted to pretend this was all some kind of strange, horrible dream. If he were at his own hearthside now, he’d be falling asleep, perhaps with one of the thrall women he’d charmed into sharing his blankets with him. Instead, he was faced with the prospect of warming the thane’s bed instead.
“Yes. I can appreciate that sentiment.” Aron glanced at the slave and caught the momentary anguish on his delicate features before it vanished. “Come,” Roman continued, climbing to his feet and handing him a soft cloth. “You can dry off before the fire.”
Aron was curious about his companion, but there was an air of reserve about Roman that kept him from asking. Normally that wouldn’t stop him, but at the moment he was too dazed to poke and prod. He stepped out of the tub and dried off, handing the damp cloths to Roman when he held his hand out for them. He sank down in front of the fire, staring into the crackling flames. How much longer would it be before the thane came looking for him?
It was not as if he was virginal. He knew what to expect. He had just never fathomed that he would be in this position. Was it very different with a man? His pride rebelled at the idea of being used for any other’s pleasure, be it a man or a woman, but he knew he was well and truly trapped. He would not go back on his word. At least he still had that much pride.
As if sensing his thoughts, the slave knelt behind him and started working a comb through his thick, unruly hair. Aron almost told him not to bother. It was rather uncontrollable, but Roman’s touch was gentle and soothing, so he kept his mouth shut.
“You’ll learn to find pleasure in it, Aron,” he said in a quiet voice. “Wulfgar can be a fine lover when he isn’t angered. Don’t anger him, and he won’t hurt you.”
Aron gave him an incredulous look over his shoulder, and Roman chuckled.
“You don’t believe me? It’s no different than when you first were with a woman. It was awkward and unfamiliar, wasn’t it? But you still enjoyed it. I realize it’s not the same because this isn’t your choice, but there is much pleasure to be had, I promise you that.” He ran his slender fingers through Aron’s hair and sighed, sitting back on his heels to look at him.
“I know it’s little consolation and you would trade whatever pleasure you find to not have to be here at all, but there are much worse masters to belong to than Wulfgar.”
Aron said nothing. There was nothing to say. He would not enjoy it. He did not want to enjoy it. He just wanted to hurry the next year along, and for it to be over with, so he could forget he had ever made that cursed agreement with the thane.
Roman bit his upper lip lightly and reached for the bottle of amber oil, giving Aron a hesitant look. “I’m supposed to relax and prepare you for him….” He had no desire for Aron to get angry and threatening with him. Brawling with the young man would not be a very good idea, but he had duties he was expected to perform.
He took a steadying breath and tried to offer the Aron a smile. He reached out one slim hand to help him up from the floor. “I won’t hurt you, Aron, I promise, and if I do anything that makes you too uncomfortable, then you can tell me to stop. The more relaxed you are, the less it will hurt.”
Aron hesitated, then slowly reached his hand up, allowing the slave to haul him to his feet. Roman could feel the tension returning in in the other man as he led Aron to the large bed, but it seemed he could not summon up the energy to resist him. Good, Roman thought. Aron would need all of his strength for the night to come.
Roman did not think that Aron intended to resist the thane, but he did know that Aron would not be greeting Wulfgar with the soft smiles and demure looks that Roman gave him. Wulfgar would have him, but Roman did not doubt that Aron would make sure that the thane knew the entire time that it wasn’t because he was an eager bed partner.
Roman poured some of the oil into his palms, rubbing them lightly together to warm it as Aron stretched out on his back, before bringing his hands to the young thrall’s shoulders and beginning to knead the tension away. He kept his touch impersonal and his eyes averted from Aron’s gaze. He knew, were he Aron, he would want no one to see his shame.
Roman could certainly see why Wulfgar had wanted Aron. He was a beautiful young man, with his piercing blue eyes and perfectly made body. He couldn’t imagine why Wulfgar would think the boy was tamable, however. Aron was too spirited for captivity. He would never be broken. He might behave and settle in somewhat, but he’d never be tamed. Perhaps that was Wulfgar’s fascination. The thane did love a challenge.
Roman continued to work his hands over Aron’s body. He could feel him relaxing more and more, until Aron’s eyes were half-lidded and he was watching him sleepily. A twinge of renewed sympathy rippled through Roman. He could hear the sounds of the feast beginning to wind down. At least Wulfgar wouldn’t be inclined to linger and play tonight, not as drunk as he likely was. Roman knelt between Aron’s thighs and reached for the bottle of oil again, meeting Aron’s eyes.
“If you would rather Wulfgar do this, tell me and I’ll stop.” The slave brushed his fingertips fleetingly against the sensitive area just behind Aron’s balls. “I won’t try to excite you, but just stretch you so you won’t be injured.” He truly hoped that Aron wouldn’t stop him. Wulfgar would be too excited and drunk to do the job properly.
Aron tensed at his words, raising up on his elbows and frowning down at Roman. “Stretch me? What…? Oh.” Roman watched as realization lit in pale blue eyes, followed by a shadow of fear and distaste.
Roman nibbled on his upper lip, tilting his head as he waited to see what Aron would do. He seemed torn, tensed as though he was going to bolt, but apparently common sense and resignation won out in the end, because Aron lay back on the bed and turned his face away. Roman took that as permission to continue and slid his slick fingers back between the cheeks of Aron’s buttocks.
Aron tensed again, but he didn’t resist. Roman spread the oil over and around his entrance, glancing up at Aron’s averted face. “If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.” He applied gentle pressure with one oiled finger, and it slid inside.
He didn’t move that finger as Aron tensed again and hissed, though Roman knew it wasn’t from pain, but from the unfamiliar sensation. His fingers were slim and oiled, and he had always kept his nails clipped low. He wanted to murmur soothingly to him, but he did not think Aron would allow any sort of tenderness at this point. Best to just get it done with and leave him alone to await Wulfgar.
He slowly thrust his finger several times until Aron’s body began to relax, then worked a second finger inside. He glanced back up at Aron and found him still with his face turned away, his eyes open and unblinking, staring at a spot across the room.
Roman bit his lip. He ducked his head and tried to ignore how his stomach knotted as he began to scissor his fingers with gentle motions.
Roman was torn between wanting to have no part in what was going to occur that night and the desire to help the young man as much as possible. Not that Aron was likely to thank him, and he wasn’t expecting him to. Aron made a soft sound of distress that was quickly bitten off, and a wave of guilt washed over Roman.
Love between two men could be a very beautiful and intimate experience, and it was a shame that Aron would know none of that his first time. Roman continued to scissor his fingers until he felt the ring of muscle that clenched his fingers ease even more. He poured some more oil over his fingers and around Aron’s entrance, then began to work a third finger in, giving him plenty of time to adjust to the invasion.
Roman tried not to notice how beautiful Aron looked with his powerful thighs spread open and the muscles of his stomach tense and defined. Wulfgar was going to be utterly entranced with him. Well, there were worse things than a year of service, and the young man’s family still had a home. The shame of this evening would disappear under the resilience of his spirit.
Aron’s hands had fisted in the furs, and Roman bit his upper lip as he thrust, careful to avoid the young man’s spot. That rebellious part that was buried deep within him wanted Aron to win at least part of this night’s encounter. If Wulfgar hoped to get pleasured sighs from Aron, he would have to work for it.
Roman withdrew his fingers and wiped them on a cloth that he had brought with him. He set the oil to the side, hoping the thane would see it and think to put some on his cock before fucking Aron. His eyes met fierce blue irises, and for a moment, understanding flowed between them. Roman could hear Wulfgar coming. Years of listening for him had left him attuned to the thane.