The Hunter's Surrender by Kaenar Langford Page A

along Santara’s stubble-roughened jaw. How he loved this man. “There’s something about having the weight of a weapon in my hand that makes me able to focus my energy and clear my thoughts. Then it’s a whole lot easier to deal with things.”
    He retreated a few steps and held up the sword, admiring the intricate carving on the handle as the light caught the blade. “This comes from a time when greater skill and training were necessary to defeat your enemies. Nowadays, it seems that treachery and long-range warfare rule the day. If I’m going to die, I’d prefer to see the face of my adversary.”
    His companion frowned. “You certainly didn’t seem in such an introspective mood earlier this morning when we were lying in bed and I was sucking you off.”
    The king snorted at Santara’s observation. “Like I could think about anything with your amazing mouth around my cock. Now you know why I had to come here. Whenever you dip your tongue into the slit, my balls lift and tighten, and I get as hard as classen . When you take me all the way in, and I bump the back of your throat, I’m afraid the top of my head is going to blow off.”
    “Something certainly did blow off,” Santara said with a smirk.
    The king tossed a wide smile at Santara. “When we’re making love, I can’t wrap my mind around anything but you and your mouth. And maybe how good it’ll feel when I slide into your tight hole. If I’d stayed in bed, I’d have gotten nothing done.”
    Santara propped his hands on his hips. “Well, I woke up and you were gone, and I must say I was angry you’d left without talking to me about what’s bothering you or asking me to spar with you. After all this time together, I thought I was more than a mere fucktoy for you.”
    Putting off acknowledging Santara’s displeasure, the monarch walked over to a long, cloth-covered table. After placing the sword flat in his palms and touching it to his forehead, he reverently set it down. The coat of arms of Tentalia painted on the material served as a reminder of his duty, and the reason for the workout with the robo-knight. He closed his eyes. His world was spinning out of his control, and Santara was the only thing that kept him grounded. But after receiving the communiqué yesterday, Rochar didn’t know what to say to Santara, didn’t know what words to give him that wouldn’t cause him pain.
    The sudden warmth at his back told him Santara had quietly crossed to stand behind him.
    When Santara finally spoke, his voice was whisper soft. “Tell me, Rochar. Is that all I am—your fucktoy?”
    King Rochar slowly turned and faced him, cupping that beloved face in his hands. “You are the love of my life. But I can’t ask you for help.”
    Santara reached up and broke the hold. “In Joram’s name, why not? You say I’m the love of your life, yet you won’t let me help you,” he cried.
    The king looked off in the distance and drew a deep breath. “I received a message from the High Council yesterday.”
    Santara shrugged. “And?”
    “It’s time.”
    King Rochar stared at him, watching the play of emotions across his lover’s face as understanding dawned.
    “You had your thirtieth birthday last week. They’ve gone to fetch her, the bounty hunter, haven’t they?” Santara asked.
    Rochar could hear the resignation in his lover’s tone. He nodded. “Although, kidnap her would be a better word for what they’re going to do.”
    Santara sighed. “There’s nothing you can do. The law is clear. She has been chosen.”
    “And even though I’m King of Tentalia, I’m not to question the law, am I?” Rochar said sarcastically.
    Santara set his hand on the king’s chest. “What’s going on here? Where’s all this coming from?”
    King Rochar gently took Santara’s fingers, bringing them to his mouth and placing a kiss on his palm. “You mean everything to me.”
    “You know I feel the same about you, Your Majesty.”
    Rochar licked this time.