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He gave no indication that he was fine, now, and simply stayed in the stilled position. He was comfortable at the moment, and saw no reason for motion, so he pretended to be uncomfortable for a moment longer.
He peaked over his shoulder to see if the King had noticed his eased state.
The King’s eyes narrowed on him, immediately noticing Salas’ deception, another growl rumbling a warning.
It was all the time Salas got before the King grabbed his hips, pulled out, and slammed in again. The pace he kept was brutal, each pulse hitting its deep mark, and soon Salas dropped down to the bed again, unable to support himself, all the while the King tore into him, clearly not minding someone laying as limp as a ragdoll, a pliant toy to be plowed.
Salas came first, groaning his release at the sheer ecstasy of it all, Jareth using his hand to enfold Salas’ arousal so that it was released wetly into his palm.
Moments later, the King found his release as well, emptying himself inside Salas, filling him completely until there was just no more Salas could take. When the King pulled out, freeing his cock with a wet ‘pop,’ his cum immediately began pouring out, leaking from Salas’ abused hole.
Salas once more twisted around curiously, spreading his own cheek to get a glimpse of his ruined state.
The King sighed, shaking his head. “You are far too tantalizing for your own good, Salas. Are you trying to rouse me again?”
Salas ignored the silly King, poking at his entrance, then licking his slickened fingers.
“That’s enough,” the King growled, slapping Salas hand away when he attempted to reach for more. “Your seduction ends now, little one. Let me clean you.”
Salas obediently stayed put and allowed the King to wander off to the washroom to return with cleaning clothes. He wiped Salas down, paying extra attention to his rear, and then himself, and then slid to lay down next to Salas. Pulling a blanket up to cover them, he made sure Salas was cocooned before stroking his cheek fondly, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
Salas took a moment before speaking, allowing himself to relax in the state of being loved, before finally asking, “What now?”
Jareth responded slowly, seeming to realize that Salas was not referring to the current moment they shared. “Now, we sleep. But tomorrow, we’ll send down Diagorian enforcement to stabilize the country. It should have been done in the first place. The Malthenians should never have been allowed to take over.”
“It has no ruler,” Salas nearly whispered.
“I shall rule it,” the King answered easily.
Salas blinked and found himself looking away, hating the rebellion he felt at the suggestion, though unable to deny it. “You are not Susconian,” was the only way he could describe his unease.
“You didn’t let me finish,” the King said softly.
Salas returned his gaze once more. “I shall rule it now,” the King said slowly. “For now. But one day, you will.”
Salas blinked, his eyes widening when he saw that the King was serious, but then he was shaking his head. The King was sillier than he suspected, he decided. “Silly King. I am…I am too stupid to rule.”
“That’s not true,” The King claimed immediately. “You are not to say that again, Salas. You may not understand diplomacy and ceremony, or navigating all politics. But you know Susconian law. You’ve catered to their realm. You made decisions over a people—”
“Decisions over birds,” Salas scoffed.
“People,” the King corrected sternly. “Your heart is always for the people. The way you protect them. That is what makes a strong leader. You have the rest of the time in the world to work out the finer details.”
Salas blinked, hope swelling within him with the idea. “But…you would be far away.”
“Not if the Kingdoms are united,” he said gently. “And not if I have an eager daughter who is sure to rule well in my stead, should I find myself in Suscon.”
Salas imagined it all, his future playing out in vivid detail, of his time with Jareth and how wonderful it would be, and he found himself smiling.
Abruptly, he sat up. The King slowly followed him.
“You would do that?” Salas asked in a breathy whisper. “Give me a Kingdom?”
The King smiled. “It was always yours, Salas.”
Salas’ grin widened. He needed to return the favor, needed to show how grateful he was, and he could think of one thing.
He reached to his hair, found a lock, and pulled.
