Pearls Before Swine
Chapter Seventeen: Epilogue
A Viggo/Orlando RPS A/U of no determined time period other than ‘puffy shirt era’.
Rated NC17 for the series.
Warning: more angst.
I mean no disrespect to the fine folks portrayed herein.
Thank you, Jean.
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Sharif Oded Fehr strode boldly into the antechamber, flowing black robes sweeping the cracked marble of the floor. Gleaming silver traced the edges of his garments, and the ivory hilt of the curved dagger at his waist. Tattoos of rank accented his dark eyes and lofty cheekbones above the sable slashes of his mustache and close-trimmed beard. Like a shadow at his heels, stalked a man whose impressive musculature was displayed to advantage by a leather loincloth held up by a wide, metal-studded belt. Chains of silver were attached to rings at the back of the belt and attached to the chains were two trim figures swathed in layers of silk. Moving across the floor like ships in calm water, the group stopped at an arrangement of two elegant chairs that had obviously been brought in especially for this meeting. The rest of the chamber was bare of furnishings: the sconces empty of candles, no hangings on the walls, the corners musty with mouse droppings.
“Welcome, honored guest.”
Oded turned his head to watch the slender, richly dressed newcomer cross the room from the opposite direction. Touching his fingertips to his heart, he bowed from the waist. “The Prophet’s blessings upon you and upon this house,” he replied.
“Are you a man who requires more amenities, or may we get down to business?”
“I have no wish to remain anchored here any longer than is necessary,” the Sharif said. “Forgive my curiosity; I understand why you would wish to meet in secrecy, but I wonder why you would choose to wear a mask.”
“That is my affair. I see you have brought the merchandise.”
“As your master requested. The two fairest male concubines my eyes have ever beheld. Any maiden would trade her virtue for such eyelashes, and the eyes those lashes adorn are pools of temptation. Their grace is matched only by the finest of Arab steeds and…”
“Excellent,” the agent interrupted. “My master should be well pleased.”
Oded’s cordial expression curdled a bit. “I understood that he would be here to take delivery.”
“Alas, time is in too short supply. I have your payment, if that is what is troubling you.”
The Sharif held up a hand to stop his slave handler from using the sword that flashed from its sheath. The brawny barbarian subsided, but his tawny-green gaze simmered with the desire to teach this skinny fop some respect. The agent stared calmly back, nothing visible but a pair of pale eyes above a black scarf.
“May I assume you are authorized to inspect the goods?” Oded asked.
“Indeed I am, sir. If you would care to sit while I conduct the inspection?”
“I prefer to stand and I prefer to have a name to call those I deal with.”
“We all have preferences, sir, and some are secret. It is why you are in business.”
Again, the Sharif’s man drew his sword, and Oded waved him back.
“I am not easily provoked,” Oded said. “I know my worth. However, my large friend here has a pride to match his size.”
“And a temper, as well, but I mean no disrespect; I am only speaking plainly. I thought perhaps, given the nature of our transaction, we could dispense with niceties.”
“Candor is a great compliment, but a small amount of courtesy is always welcome.”
“Is that an Eastern characteristic?”
“It is a human one. Did your master send no message to explain his absence?”
“I am afraid there is only me. Do we still have a bargain?”
Oded made a graceful gesture and the slave handler brought his charges forward.
“I would like to take them in the next room, if that is permitted. Before you ask why, let me explain. I want to see a bit of their temper when their warden is absent.”
“As you wish. If you attempt to cheat me, you will not live to enjoy your spoils.”
“Understood.”
Again, the Sharif signaled the guard and the chains were unfastened from the thick leather belt. Docilely, the pair of slaves waited until Oded indicated that they should go with the stranger into the next room.
“Your master cannot see you nor hear you now, and I am going to leave this chamber,” the agent said. “You will disrobe and be at your ease until I come for you again. I was told you understand English, so this will serve as your first test.”
As soon as the fop was gone, the slaves moved closer together and began to whisper.
“If that was a man, I will suckle his cock,” said the slighter one.
“I wager that your instincts will prove sound, my friend,” said his dark-eyed companion.
“Well, I suppose we had better start stripping down.”
“As you are apt to do at the drop of a hat.”
“Are you hinting that I take pleasure in flaunting my nakedness?”
“I hint at nothing. You are without shame… and I would not change you for all the gold in the great Khan’s hoard.”
“How fortunate for your modesty, since I draw attention and you may hang back until the need for distraction is no longer…” The slave with the china blue eyes stopped in mid-sentence and looked up at the ceiling.
“I heard it too,” said the other.
Both concubines lunged for different doors, peeling off diaphanous lengths of silk as they reached for the weapons concealed beneath.
“I can see nothing out here.”
“Nor I on this side.”
The two young men spun to face the room again as a hatch opened in the ceiling. A moment later, the Sharif’s tooled leather boots appeared and the man himself dropped from above like a visiting deity.
“You were correct, Orlando.” Oded bowed. “The buyer could not resist coming in person to have a look. There is a room above with many spy holes.”
“And our quarry?” the taller concubine replied.
“I could not believe the proof of my own eyes, but you were correct on that score as well. Karl and his comrades are bringing our prisoners down by a less precipitate route, out of deference to propriety.”
Orlando nodded. “You did not guess the identity of the new leader of the slave ring because your mind could not comprehend that a…” His next words were lost in the screaming torrent of abuse that filled the chamber.
All eyes turned to the door as Karl dragged a small blonde woman into the room. No one failed to recognize Lady Katherine Bosworth despite the fact that she was screeching, spitting and swearing like a swabbie as she yanked at her bonds and attempted to kick her captor. Karl threw Orlando a long-suffering look as he lifted the young woman’s negligible weight off the ground with one arm. She flailed fruitlessly for a minute before giving up to fume and glare at her enemies. By contrast, her agent walked into the room ahead of Eric and stared coolly ‘round the room before addressing the group.
“What now, gentlemen? Do you wish to discuss some form of partnership? Or did you merely intend to rob us?”
“Mademoiselle Jolie?” Orlando addressed the fop, whose mask had come off in the struggle.
Without the disguise, Angelina’s features gave away the secret her clothing still hid. “You have guessed correctly,” she told Orlando. “It seems you are not quite the empty-headed ornament you would appear to be.”
“Many things are not as they appear to be,” the Sharif said. “I would never have thought a woman capable of controlling the trafficking of slaves.”
“Two women!” Lady Bosworth corrected him.
“Do be quiet,” Angelina said. “What did you ever do besides sample the merchandise?”
“Well, if you wish an accounting: the use of my wealth, my lands and my ships might be said to have some value.”
“Indeed. If only your head contained a single thought not devoted to the gratification of some desire of yours. Since your uncle’s disappearance last year, all you have done is run about like a madcap satisfying your every whim.”
“What does it matter? I had very much more than Uncle Jason ever told me, and after that horrible interview I had with the Crown tax collectors, I think I deserve a little diversion.”
“You have been diverted every night for a year, by my count, and every day, as well.”
“And you are counting, are you not, my sweet friend?”
“I could have doubled, nay, tripled your capital, if you were not so feather-brained and inclined to do as your womanly parts dictate.”
“At least I know how to use them. You are better suited to a man’s part.”
“If you are a sterling example of womanhood, I would prefer to be male.”
“As I have always suspected,” Lady Katherine sneered.
Viggo walked into the room as the two women launched themselves at one another. He was sandwiched between the pair of hellcats and it was a few lively minutes before he could be extricated from the yowling, scratching tangle of smooth limbs and sharp claws. The loud laughter of his fellows did not strike him as particularly appropriate given the dire nature of the danger he was in.
“How can you make light of this?” Viggo demanded. “I might have lost an eye.”
“Stop whining; you have two,” Sean said, pushing past Viggo.
“Would you say the same to Cillian?” Viggo asked.
“Of course not.” Sean grinned as his husband bolted across the floor to embrace him as though they hadn’t seen one another in two years, rather than two hours. “But you must admit that Cillian has one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes in Christendom.”
“In all the world,” Viggo said equably. “We are lucky men, brother.”
“What do you want?” Lady Katherine demanded from the confines of Karl’s arms. “Do you want money? Name your price.”
From her position against Eric’s broad chest, Angelina rolled her eyes. “You really are as thick as your London fog. We have been taken in by do-gooders, you silly bitch. They will not accept bribes, unless I am much mistaken.”
“All men have a price.”
“That may be true,” Viggo said. “But it is also true that nothing you have to offer would buy a single one of us.”
“You sound very certain,” Lady Katherine sneered.
“I have seen what you have to offer,” Viggo replied. “More bone than meat.”
“Aye,” Sean chimed in. “A jam tart or two would do you no harm, lass.” Captain Bean ignored the imprecations the young lady hurled at him and his immediate ancestors. “Karl, when you get our charges aboard ship, tell Commander Crowe to feed this one up. We cannot have her solicitor claiming we starved her during the voyage.”
“Voyage? What voyage?” Angelina inquired.
“You do not think we would take you to Port Prince Edward for trial, do you?” Orlando asked. “There is not a magistrate on the island whose pockets are not lined with Bosworth gold. You are going home to England, ladies.”
Angelina protested. “I am not an Englishwoman.”
“True, Mademoiselle Jolie. Would you like to be handed over to the French authorities?”
“Not particularly,” Angelina said. “Are you the leader?”
“At the moment.”
“Then I would like to speak with you about coming to some sort of arrangement. I have a vast knowledge of Lady Katherine’s hidden accounts and clandestine activities.”
“I am sure any details you can supply will weigh in favor of mercy when you are sentenced.” Orlando nodded, and Karl and Eric escorted their prisoners from the room.
“We should follow them,” Cillian said, drawing on the trousers Sean had brought him.
“They will not sail without us,” Orlando assured his friend.
“I know, but I want to be there when the commander meets Kate.”
“The commander is a masterful man,” Oded said. “A mere woman will not cause him even a moment of worry.”
“You have a lot to learn about women, boyo,” Cillian grinned. “Come on, Sean. Stir yourself, you great lump.”
“Yes,” Orlando said. “Let us not linger here. I wish to turn our prisoners over to the Royal Navy with all possible haste, and then I wish to sail for home.”
“I miss Johnny, too,” Viggo said.
“Poor sod,” Sean said automatically, as he’d done since the tragedy had befallen the major.
“And he had such promise as a pirate, the poor darlin’ man.” Cillian took Sean’s hand and tugged him toward the door.
“You may count yourselves fortunate that Craig and Miranda cannot hear your mockery,” Orlando said a trifle primly.
“Say what you will.” Sean bowed his head. “I mourn for Johnny. Aye, and for Craig as well. Miranda’s a lass and she’ll take it in stride. Might even make a proper woman of her.”
“Would you like me to repeat those words to her?” Orlando asked.
“Cillian!” Sean exclaimed. “Why do we tarry here? Our ship is waiting.”
Oded smiled as Sean and Cillian hurried away. “So, my lord,” he said to Orlando. “You have done as you vowed. Those who controlled the slave trade are either dead or awaiting justice at the hands of your government. You should be proud.”
“Proud?” Orlando’s expression was enigmatic. “I feel an easing of my burden, if that is what you mean. As long as there are people held in bondage, it will be difficult to feel proud of myself as a human being. However, I confess to a lightness of spirit to know that Lady Katherine and her ilk will no longer ply these waters.”
Oded inclined his head in a gesture of great respect. “I wish that you might see yourself through my eyes for just one moment. I think you would be proud.”
“So, my lord, you no longer deem me best suited to the harem?”
“You would be the crowning jewel of any harem,” Oded bowed from the waist. “But I think you are best suited to shepherd this fellow.”
“True.” Viggo made eyes at his lover. “Helpless lambs should not be left on their own.”
Orlando made a show of looking around the room. “I see no such creature.”
Oded cleared his throat. “My honored friends, you know I hold you in the highest esteem, but I have a confession. When you fall to love-play, I begin to feel somewhat as though I were afflicted with the seasickness. I beg you to remain circumspect in my company.”
“Jealousy ill becomes you, Sharif,” Orlando observed.
“Now you have become ridiculous,” Oded said. “May I assume my debt of honor is paid?”
“A hundredfold, my friend.” Orlando pulled the Sharif into a warm embrace.
“I hope you will have some time for leisure now,” Oded said, when he stepped back.
“It is the only thought in my mind at the moment,” Orlando said. “And all my will is bent on a swift journey home.”
“Greet Major Depp for me,” the Sharif requested. “And tell him I wish him good health.”
“He will need your good wishes,” Viggo said, before Orlando’s elbow hit his midsection.
“Please do not be tiresome simply because the other lads are doing it,” the former governor sighed. “I love you to distraction, but you fall too easily into the manner of a ruffian when you are in the company of Captain Bean for any length of time.”
“They are brothers of the heart, if not of the blood,” Oded said. “I will bid you farewell until we are together again.”
“Until then,” Orlando agreed. “I feel quite certain I will be needing you and your ships again some day.”
“I feel the same certainty,” Viggo said. “My Orlando has yet to rid the world of all evil.”
“In that, he will always have my sword to call upon.” With a last bow to the other two men, the Sharif walked away.
Viggo and Orlando arrived at the beach where Commander Crowe’s warship was anchored in time to wave good-bye to one of the Royal Navy’s newest “auxiliaries”. Orlando thought it had a nicer sound than “privateer”. They boarded their sloop and sailed it together back to Viggo’s homeland. The lookout on the headland lit the signal fire when he saw the sleek craft and by the time the heroes made port, the docks were lined with cheering crowds.
It was some time before they managed to travel the distance between the harbor and the fortress and their arms were laden with flowers and small gifts. Owing to many drinks pressed upon them in welcome, their gait was somewhat unsteady when they entered the castle’s living quarters. Craig raised an eyebrow at their condition when he greeted them.
“I hope you do not imagine I will let you enter Miranda’s chambers in your present state,” the Marshal said.
“I have missed you as well, Craig,” Viggo replied. “But you cannot tell me what to do in my own castle. We made many sacrifices to get here as fast as we could. We went without sleep, without food, even without the comfort of one another’s arms. Stand aside.”
“I can see you are in no mood for reason, and will not be gainsaid, but have a care for Miranda’s feelings. They are unchancy just now.”
“That is to be expected, surely,” Orlando said. “And we promise to be on our best behavior.”
Craig opened the door. “Enter at your peril,” he said.
Miranda beamed at Viggo and Orlando from the big bed, but Johnny was nowhere to be seen. Before they could ask, an ear-scraping wail shivered the air followed so closely by another that they could not have come from the same throat. A moment later, Johnny entered through another door, red-faced and encumbered by two armloads of linen.
Miranda smiled indulgently. “He loves them, but I cannot convince him they are not to be carried like piglets to the fair,” she told the visitors.
“I assure you, madam, I am doing my utmost, but as a wet nurse I am afraid you will find me somewhat inadequate.” Looking as harried as a man fighting two swordsmen at once, Johnny came to the bedside and set down his bundles. The squalling broke out anew.
“Have you no greeting for an old friend?” Orlando spoke up.
Johnny seemed to notice him for the first time. “No,” he said. “No greeting, no time, no strength, nothing. I have nothing left after a few hours with these… these…”
“Babies,” Craig said, as he came to stand at the other side of the bed. “They are called babies.”
Johnny scowled at the Marshal. “Actually, the word I was searching for is goblin.”
“They are your children,” Miranda said. “And you love them. Come and sit beside me.”
“I thought perhaps that I might go with Orlando and Viggo and speak of all that has passed in the…” Johnny ticked off seven fingers. “In the nearly eight months since they set sail.”
“We would have been home sooner if it were possible,” Viggo said quickly.
“Indeed,” Orlando added. “It is not as if we were enjoying ourselves and now that the slave ring is broken, we can rest until another blackguard oozes up to trouble the peace.”
“Yes, we should get some rest,” Viggo said even more quickly. “I would like a look at the little ones and then I would like to be re-united with my bed.”
Proudly, Miranda folded back the swaddling blankets to reveal two miniature copies of her own fair face. Wisps of golden down were already curling into ringlets on the infants’ heads, but their eyes were as dark as undiluted coffee.
“The message said a girl and a boy,” Orlando said softly, touching a round cheek with his forefinger. “Which is this?”
“She,” Miranda emphasized the pronoun. “Is a little maid that we have decided to call Orlanda. I think it has a beautiful sound and it honors a dear friend, as well as being similar to my own name.”
“I like it very much,” Viggo said, tickling Orlanda’s chin. “She has your smile, Miranda.”
“Is she not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?” Craig burst out.
Viggo and Orlando turned startled eyes on the Marshal, and then broke out in grins as Craig’s fair skin went bright pink.
“I cannot help it,” the fierce warrior mumbled. “As soon as I saw Miranda’s children, they owned my heart. I never knew I could love something so much.”
“Our children,” Miranda said, reaching for Craig’s hand. “You are their father as well as Johnny.”
“Thank all the Powers,” Johnny said. “Two children need two fathers, if anyone were to ask me. It is too large job for one person.”
“Then do your best, major,” Orlando said. “I am sure it will be good enough.”
Johnny could no longer keep up his pose of irritation. A smile broke over his face as he and Orlando moved toward one another to meet in a warm embrace at the foot of the big bed. After a moment, Viggo joined them, wrapping his arms around both. The hug expanded to include Craig and Miranda and both babies, ending only when an ominous creaking portended the imminent collapse of the piece of furniture they had overloaded.
“And what of the little lad?” Orlando asked, when order was restored. “What will you call him?”
“Not Viggo, I hope,” Viggo said.
“You need not worry on that score, my friend,” Johnny said. “One Viggo is quite enough.”
“Aye,” Craig nodded. “No disrespect to my king, but it would be foolish to think the children will remain here all their lives, considering the family they were born into, and we would like them to have names that will not sound so… foreign to English ears.”
“If I may be so bold, I have always thought that William is a fine name,” Orlando said. “I have used it as an alias and it never fails to inspire trust.”
“William and Orlanda,” Miranda tried it out. “Orlie and Will. Tis not unpleasant.”
“I like it,” Craig glanced at Johnny.
“You know the choosing of names is of no consequence to me except to insist that the choice should not be a likely target of jests.”
“Well done, Orlando,” Miranda said. “You must never leave again. You can see how much we need you here.”
“Is there nothing you cannot do?” Viggo teased his lover. “You fight piracy and dub babies with equal skill.”
“I had excellent teachers,” Orlando answered on a yawn. “Forgive me. My weariness has caught up with me. My congratulations, my friends, but I beg your leave to go.”
“Regretfully granted,” Miranda said. “Return as soon as you may.”
To the music of dear voices wishing them happy dreams, Viggo and Orlando left the new family alone to seek their chambers. It was obvious that some of the house staff had been there recently, placing fresh greenery in pots, scattering sweet herbs across the bedding and laying out a small meal.
“Your people take good care of us,” Orlando said, shrugging out of his coat.
Viggo made a noise of agreement as he pulled the ribbon free of Orlando’s hair. The glossy chestnut waves tumbled over smooth shoulders as Viggo undid the laces of his lover’s loose shirt. Letting the sable tresses flow over his hands, the Dane kneaded the muscles of Orlando’s back. “How tired are you?” he asked.
Orlando smiled as his hair was parted and soft lips brushed his nape. “Husband,” he said softly, savoring the new word on his tongue. “I wonder that you did not mention the solemnizing of our bond to our friends.”
“I noticed that you did not bring it up either.”
“I did not wish to take away from Miranda’s accomplishment.” Orlando’s smile broadened as he turned to face Viggo.
“Nor I.” Viggo sighed happily as Orlando’s elegant mustache tickled the sensitive skin behind his earlobe. “When we finish celebrating the births, we will have a feast day to honor our troth, and I will once more claim you in front of those that matter to me.”
“Will that not shock the guests?”
“Imp of mischief. When I say I will claim you, I do not mean to top you amidst the baked meats and honey cakes.” Viggo paused. “Though the thought of you covered with honey is a most agreeable one.”
Orlando made a face. “I feel sticky just imagining it.”
“That may be your only fault, my heart. You have an unnatural fondness for bathing.”
“Barbarian.”
“Fop.”
“By God, I love you so much.” Orlando pressed his forehead hard against Viggo’s. “I understand entirely what Craig meant when he said he felt he would burst with love. Sometimes when I look at you, it is all I can do to contain myself.”
“Only sometimes?”
Orlando chuckled softly. “I am being circumspect, sir. Do you remember our first meeting?”
“How is it possible I could forget the worst and best moment of my life?”
“I was just thinking, as I often do, about how unlikely it was that we should have met. If slavers had not captured Miranda. If you had not gone after her. If Captain Bean had not been an agent of the Crown. You and I would never have had occasion to be in the same place at the same time. As much as I despise slavery and those who perpetuate the practice, they brought you to me.”
“In fact, it was Captain Rush that brought me to you.” Viggo smiled. “And you stole me from him, you pirate.”
“Privateer,” Orlando corrected indignantly. “I have stolen nothing more tangible than a maidenhead in my life.”
Viggo snorted, stirring Orlando’s curls. “Stolen maidenheads, my arse. Why am I sure that every female you cast your eye on fell onto her back like her heels were round?”
“You flatter me.” Orlando unbuckled the belt that held up Viggo’s leather kilt. “It has been almost two years since we became allies of necessity, and though there are many things I would gladly change about the past, I would gladly endure them again to have you.”
“You did not merely endure,” Viggo said. “You triumphed, and by your example gained a powerful ally for your cause.”
“The poor Sharif.” Orlando smiled. “Once his eyes were opened, he could not close them again.”
“And he was the perfect catspaw in our plan to find the ringleader of the slave trade. Your plan worked perfectly and…”
“And?” Orlando let his hands roam as he kissed his way along Viggo’s jaw line.
“And you were right. Oded is a good man when given the chance.”
Orlando smiled against the arc of flesh that connected Viggo’s neck and shoulder. “He said the same of you,” he murmured.
Viggo snorted, and then gasped as Orlando nipped sharply at tender skin. “If you are that hungry, I will fetch some food for you.”
“You are going nowhere,” Orlando growled. “It has been too long since we lay together, and now we are behind closed doors, I will not brook further delay.”
“You are a constant wonder to me,” Viggo said, tightening his embrace. “Never leave.”
“You already have my sacred promise to stay at your side, come fire or flood, but if you would have more proof that my pledge is true…”
Orlando claimed Viggo’s mouth, running his tongue along every surface with tantalizing slowness. Drawing Viggo’s tongue into his mouth, Orlando sucked strongly as his hands crept down his husband’s back. The young man rucked up the Dane’s leather kilt and worked his fingers into the downy cleft between the firm ass cheeks. Swallowing Viggo’s deep groan, Orlando relinquished his mouth to taste the delights of the delicate eyelids, the stubbled chin and all else in between. He slid slowly down, running his tongue over the declivities of Viggo’s collarbones, rhythmically squeezing the globes of Viggo’s backside, as he worked his way southward. Nibbling, licking and sucking, he lavished attention on the Dane’s nipples, belly button, and every hard contour of every muscle his mouth could reach. By the time Orlando’s warm breath caressed the head of Viggo’s cock, the full length was taut and digging into soft lower belly flesh.
“So eager, husband,” Orlando breathed.
“Do wish to hear me say it?” Viggo tipped his head down, eyes glowing like foxfire behind the curtain of his shaggy bangs. “I burn for you, husband.”
A swift little shiver ran the length of Orlando’s frame as he looked up into the gaze that had become his heaven. “Now you have done it,” he said mock-crossly, as he sagged against the other man. “You have turned my bones to jelly and my blood to flame. I fear your servants will have to mop what is left of me from the floor.”
Viggo hooked his hands in Orlando’s armpits to haul him up. A moment later, he landed atop the young man, doing his best to turn in mid-air to take half the impact. Orlando flopped on his back, giggling helplessly, his eyes sparkling with tears of laughter.
“I had forgotten how ticklish you are,” Viggo mused, his hand stealing toward tempting ribs.
“Do not dare!” Orlando put a hand to Viggo’s chest, fending him off.
“Is there a threat to go with that?” the Dane wanted to know.
Orlando let his eyes drop to Viggo’s arousal. As he watched, a bead of cloudy liquid formed at the tip and overflowed in a thin stream of translucent honey. He met his husband’s gaze again, unconsciously licking his lips before he spoke. “I do not threaten, you brazen piece.”
Viggo grunted as he was rolled onto his back. Strong arms pushed his knees almost to his ears as Orlando knelt before him. The young man yanked his husband’s ass onto his thighs and leaned forward, butting their crotches firmly together. Viggo let his legs sprawl as he reached up, pulling Orlando’s head down with a hand on the back of his neck. As their mouths met, Orlando pulsed his hips, sliding his cock against Viggo’s, the coarse linen of his trousers adding another layer of stimulation. Pinning Viggo’s wrists to the rug, Orlando darted his tongue in and out of the other man’s mouth as he dry thrust against him. The Dane got the soles of his feet against the floor and pushed back, grinding his rock hard shaft over and across Orlando’s, rolling and slipping in manner that was near to taking him over the edge.
“I yield,” Viggo gasped.
“And I have yet to remove my clothing.”
“Smirking does not become you.”
“Do you wish to be topped or not?”
“You would not be so cruel as to deny me now.”
Orlando smiled, his fugitive dimples making a welcome appearance. “No, truly I could not, however… Do you not think we are sailing too quickly into port?”
Viggo grinned as he wrapped his scarred hands around his thighs and rolled onto his shoulders. “I think we have many journeys of this sort still to take. When we next set sail, I promise you that the voyage will be lengthy and… Blast it! Must I beg you?”
Orlando kicked off his trousers. “I am as eager as you, as you can see.”
Viggo let his gaze dwell on the other man’s handsome cock. “I can think of nothing I want more at this moment than to feel you inside me, but at some point on this trip, I will want a taste of that.”
“How can I deny you?” Orlando straddled Viggo’s ribcage, putting his crotch right where Viggo wanted it.
Reaching up to take a double handful of Orlando’s sculpted ass, Viggo tenderly kissed the young man’s hanging sack. Orlando swayed as Viggo gently sucked one ball and then the other into his mouth. Levering himself up, Viggo ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Orlando’s long cock a few times before taking the head into his mouth. Orlando dropped to rest on his fists, thrusting delicately as his lover sucked and swallowed, coaxing him closer and closer to release.
“I was not finished,” Viggo muttered as Orlando moved back between his thighs.
“I shall remedy that now.” Orlando took hold of Viggo’s straining shaft and pumped it rapidly, collecting the liquid that oozed from tip. Smearing the viscous fluid around Viggo’s hole, he teased the other man with a fingertip before taking mercy on him. Spitting in his palm, he added the moisture to his cock, already glistening with Viggo’s saliva.
“Why do you tarry?”
Orlando smiled again. Viggo enjoyed being taken with minimal preparation, and his impatience never failed to amuse and flatter Orlando simultaneously. “Softly, my love,” he answered. “The moment that I enter you is a sublime one for me. Forgive me if I linger over it.”
“You know I can deny you nothing.”
“Nor I you.” Orlando pushed the tip of his shaft through the resilient ring that guarded Viggo’s channel. “How like you this, beloved?”
“Passing well,” Viggo said in a strained voice. “Is there more like it?”
Orlando pulsed his hips, easing another inch into the reluctantly yielding passage. “Can you feel me, love?”
“Aye.” Viggo let out a long breath he’d been holding. “You may not be as long as a mainmast, but I’ll wager your hardness is much the same. Ah! Yes! Give me more. Yes! More!”
Orlando braceleted Viggo’s ankles with his hands, holding loosely as he sheathed his full length. He rubbed absently at his lover’s curled toes as he savored the sensation of being connected to his soul mate physically as well as spiritually. While Orlando did not doubt the Dane’s love for him, he found he craved this intimate and tangible proof.
Viggo bore down with interior muscles in a quick little squeeze. “Have you fallen asleep?”
“I can imagine no fairer bed in which to rest for eternity.” Orlando withdrew halfway and thrust gently.
“More,” Viggo prompted, gasping as Orlando took hold of his cock.
“More you shall have. All I am, or ever hope to be, is yours, whether you claim it or not.” Orlando flexed his ass, moving in and out of Viggo at a sedate pace. “So you see, you are stuck with me and my advice is to make the best of it.”
“I am, you…” Viggo’s words broke off in a deep groan of bliss.
Orlando smiled and increased the tempo of his stroke. Rolling his hips, he shifted his balance from foot to foot, driving the head of his cock over Viggo’s most sensitive spot from a different angle on each stroke. Viggo dug his heels into Orlando’s shoulders, seeking purchase in an attempt to meet his lover halfway. Orlando’s smiled broadened to a wicked grin as he wrapped strong arms around Viggo’s thighs, effectively immobilizing the Dane’s lower half. Viggo grabbed a double handful of the bedding, planted his elbows and made a bow of his spine. Orlando grunted as Viggo’s pelvis slammed into his, their flesh meeting with a wet slap that sent a tremor through both their groins. Raising an eyebrow, Orlando tightened his grip and began to thrust in long powerful strokes, retreating to the very brink before plunging back in, never stopping until his balls filled Viggo’s crack. Their eyes locked and Viggo grinned savagely back at the man who rode him, eyes flaring with an answering fire that spurred Orlando to greater efforts.
“Gods!” Viggo cried hoarsely as he approached the point of no return.
Orlando let go of one of Viggo’s thighs and pushed the Dane’s knee to the mattress. Leaning in, the young man lifted his lover’s head until their lips met. Viggo’s fingers dug into the hard muscles of Orlando’s biceps as he levered himself up in an instinctive urge for closer contact. Orlando thrust his tongue into Viggo’s mouth as he filled Viggo’s passage with his shaft, their moans mingling into one sound of sublime pleasure. Viggo took Orlando’s tongue in his teeth and clamped down on the rod that prodded him to the peak. Orlando reached between them and squeezed Viggo’s leaking cock in a warm grip. Viggo held his breath as his aching arousal pulsed against Orlando’s palm and shot a pale stream into the air.
“Always so good,” Viggo murmured against Orlando’s lips as his climax washed through him.
Orlando bit down on Viggo’s lower lip as he pinned the Dane’s free leg to bed with his knee. Giving the other man no time to recover, he thrust hard and fast, long and slow, shallow and deep. Viggo wriggled and squirmed and panted for breath, every cell tingling with a nearly unbearable delight at the sliding sensation of the long cock sinking into him and pulling back. Orlando’s beautiful face was tense with anticipation and Viggo knew his lover was near the edge. Bearing down on Orlando’s shaft, Viggo clenched and released, drawing a shuddering moan from his beloved’s lips.
“Ah, what you do to me, my lord barbarian,” Orlando breathed. “I am undone.”
Viggo lay back and absorbed the sensation of Orlando’s cock spurting deep inside him. The young man’s eyes were closed and his mouth hung open on a small cry as his orgasm overtook him and overwhelmed him with its power. Viggo opened his arms and gathered his lover to his chest, holding him close as he melted in the afterglow.
“That was some champion swivin’ as your friend Cillian would say.” Viggo’s breath stirred the darling curl that lay against Orlando’s forehead.
“I cannot dispute you, sir.” Orlando’s voice was creamy with satisfaction.
Viggo tilted his head and took Orlando’s mouth in a slow sweet kiss that made both their groins ache in an echo of their recent release. “Gods, I cannot believe how much I want you. Even now, with my belly still wet with seed, I burn to join with you again.”
“Not just yet, I pray thee, but here is a kiss in promise.” Orlando wound his fingers in the Dane’s long flaxen hair and brought their lips together again in a series of drowsy kisses.
“What think you of my plan?” Viggo asked lightly as Orlando nestled against him, rearranging pillows and coverlets to his liking.
“I thought we were done with plots for a time.”
“Aye. I was speaking of the farm.”
“Ahhh.” Orlando’s sigh was warm against Viggo’s neck. “The farm plan.”
“Do not scorn it until…”
“That was humor, not scorn, my love. Go on. I am listening.”
Viggo snorted. “Jest if you will. It is only my dream you sneer at.”
Orlando’s soft chuckle brushed against Viggo’s ear. “What a hard-hearted husband you have, poor thing.”
Viggo hugged the young man tight. “And I would not trade him for an entire harem.”
“Are you certain? I know someone that could provide you with a…”
“No more teasing,” Viggo said mock-sternly. “Or I will not tell you about the farm.”
Orlando snuggled even closer, pillowing his head on Viggo’s shoulder and throwing a long leg across the Dane’s thighs. “I will be quiet now,” he said, twisting a strand of Viggo’s golden chest hair around his finger.
“To the west, but not too far, there is a swathe of green between the mountains and the sea. There stands a farmhouse built of driftwood and stone with fields for planting and pasture. The grass is rich and so green it looks blue. My grandfather told me it was the best grazing for horses.”
“I have always wanted to breed horses,” Orlando murmured.
“We would start with a few mares and a good stud. In a few years…”
“I like your plan,” Orlando interrupted sleepily. “Now let me sleep.”
“I could take you there in the morning,” Viggo said, stroking Orlando’s tumbled locks.
“If I say yes, may I go to sleep?”
“If you promise to dream of me.”
“With all my heart.” Orlando’s words trailed off in a soft snore.
“I love you,” Viggo said into his husband’s hair, and joined him in dreams.
The End
A Viggo/Orlando RPS A/U of no determined time period other than ‘puffy shirt era’.
Rated NC17 for the series.
Warning: more angst.
I mean no disrespect to the fine folks portrayed herein.
Thank you, Jean.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sharif Oded Fehr strode boldly into the antechamber, flowing black robes sweeping the cracked marble of the floor. Gleaming silver traced the edges of his garments, and the ivory hilt of the curved dagger at his waist. Tattoos of rank accented his dark eyes and lofty cheekbones above the sable slashes of his mustache and close-trimmed beard. Like a shadow at his heels, stalked a man whose impressive musculature was displayed to advantage by a leather loincloth held up by a wide, metal-studded belt. Chains of silver were attached to rings at the back of the belt and attached to the chains were two trim figures swathed in layers of silk. Moving across the floor like ships in calm water, the group stopped at an arrangement of two elegant chairs that had obviously been brought in especially for this meeting. The rest of the chamber was bare of furnishings: the sconces empty of candles, no hangings on the walls, the corners musty with mouse droppings.
“Welcome, honored guest.”
Oded turned his head to watch the slender, richly dressed newcomer cross the room from the opposite direction. Touching his fingertips to his heart, he bowed from the waist. “The Prophet’s blessings upon you and upon this house,” he replied.
“Are you a man who requires more amenities, or may we get down to business?”
“I have no wish to remain anchored here any longer than is necessary,” the Sharif said. “Forgive my curiosity; I understand why you would wish to meet in secrecy, but I wonder why you would choose to wear a mask.”
“That is my affair. I see you have brought the merchandise.”
“As your master requested. The two fairest male concubines my eyes have ever beheld. Any maiden would trade her virtue for such eyelashes, and the eyes those lashes adorn are pools of temptation. Their grace is matched only by the finest of Arab steeds and…”
“Excellent,” the agent interrupted. “My master should be well pleased.”
Oded’s cordial expression curdled a bit. “I understood that he would be here to take delivery.”
“Alas, time is in too short supply. I have your payment, if that is what is troubling you.”
The Sharif held up a hand to stop his slave handler from using the sword that flashed from its sheath. The brawny barbarian subsided, but his tawny-green gaze simmered with the desire to teach this skinny fop some respect. The agent stared calmly back, nothing visible but a pair of pale eyes above a black scarf.
“May I assume you are authorized to inspect the goods?” Oded asked.
“Indeed I am, sir. If you would care to sit while I conduct the inspection?”
“I prefer to stand and I prefer to have a name to call those I deal with.”
“We all have preferences, sir, and some are secret. It is why you are in business.”
Again, the Sharif’s man drew his sword, and Oded waved him back.
“I am not easily provoked,” Oded said. “I know my worth. However, my large friend here has a pride to match his size.”
“And a temper, as well, but I mean no disrespect; I am only speaking plainly. I thought perhaps, given the nature of our transaction, we could dispense with niceties.”
“Candor is a great compliment, but a small amount of courtesy is always welcome.”
“Is that an Eastern characteristic?”
“It is a human one. Did your master send no message to explain his absence?”
“I am afraid there is only me. Do we still have a bargain?”
Oded made a graceful gesture and the slave handler brought his charges forward.
“I would like to take them in the next room, if that is permitted. Before you ask why, let me explain. I want to see a bit of their temper when their warden is absent.”
“As you wish. If you attempt to cheat me, you will not live to enjoy your spoils.”
“Understood.”
Again, the Sharif signaled the guard and the chains were unfastened from the thick leather belt. Docilely, the pair of slaves waited until Oded indicated that they should go with the stranger into the next room.
“Your master cannot see you nor hear you now, and I am going to leave this chamber,” the agent said. “You will disrobe and be at your ease until I come for you again. I was told you understand English, so this will serve as your first test.”
As soon as the fop was gone, the slaves moved closer together and began to whisper.
“If that was a man, I will suckle his cock,” said the slighter one.
“I wager that your instincts will prove sound, my friend,” said his dark-eyed companion.
“Well, I suppose we had better start stripping down.”
“As you are apt to do at the drop of a hat.”
“Are you hinting that I take pleasure in flaunting my nakedness?”
“I hint at nothing. You are without shame… and I would not change you for all the gold in the great Khan’s hoard.”
“How fortunate for your modesty, since I draw attention and you may hang back until the need for distraction is no longer…” The slave with the china blue eyes stopped in mid-sentence and looked up at the ceiling.
“I heard it too,” said the other.
Both concubines lunged for different doors, peeling off diaphanous lengths of silk as they reached for the weapons concealed beneath.
“I can see nothing out here.”
“Nor I on this side.”
The two young men spun to face the room again as a hatch opened in the ceiling. A moment later, the Sharif’s tooled leather boots appeared and the man himself dropped from above like a visiting deity.
“You were correct, Orlando.” Oded bowed. “The buyer could not resist coming in person to have a look. There is a room above with many spy holes.”
“And our quarry?” the taller concubine replied.
“I could not believe the proof of my own eyes, but you were correct on that score as well. Karl and his comrades are bringing our prisoners down by a less precipitate route, out of deference to propriety.”
Orlando nodded. “You did not guess the identity of the new leader of the slave ring because your mind could not comprehend that a…” His next words were lost in the screaming torrent of abuse that filled the chamber.
All eyes turned to the door as Karl dragged a small blonde woman into the room. No one failed to recognize Lady Katherine Bosworth despite the fact that she was screeching, spitting and swearing like a swabbie as she yanked at her bonds and attempted to kick her captor. Karl threw Orlando a long-suffering look as he lifted the young woman’s negligible weight off the ground with one arm. She flailed fruitlessly for a minute before giving up to fume and glare at her enemies. By contrast, her agent walked into the room ahead of Eric and stared coolly ‘round the room before addressing the group.
“What now, gentlemen? Do you wish to discuss some form of partnership? Or did you merely intend to rob us?”
“Mademoiselle Jolie?” Orlando addressed the fop, whose mask had come off in the struggle.
Without the disguise, Angelina’s features gave away the secret her clothing still hid. “You have guessed correctly,” she told Orlando. “It seems you are not quite the empty-headed ornament you would appear to be.”
“Many things are not as they appear to be,” the Sharif said. “I would never have thought a woman capable of controlling the trafficking of slaves.”
“Two women!” Lady Bosworth corrected him.
“Do be quiet,” Angelina said. “What did you ever do besides sample the merchandise?”
“Well, if you wish an accounting: the use of my wealth, my lands and my ships might be said to have some value.”
“Indeed. If only your head contained a single thought not devoted to the gratification of some desire of yours. Since your uncle’s disappearance last year, all you have done is run about like a madcap satisfying your every whim.”
“What does it matter? I had very much more than Uncle Jason ever told me, and after that horrible interview I had with the Crown tax collectors, I think I deserve a little diversion.”
“You have been diverted every night for a year, by my count, and every day, as well.”
“And you are counting, are you not, my sweet friend?”
“I could have doubled, nay, tripled your capital, if you were not so feather-brained and inclined to do as your womanly parts dictate.”
“At least I know how to use them. You are better suited to a man’s part.”
“If you are a sterling example of womanhood, I would prefer to be male.”
“As I have always suspected,” Lady Katherine sneered.
Viggo walked into the room as the two women launched themselves at one another. He was sandwiched between the pair of hellcats and it was a few lively minutes before he could be extricated from the yowling, scratching tangle of smooth limbs and sharp claws. The loud laughter of his fellows did not strike him as particularly appropriate given the dire nature of the danger he was in.
“How can you make light of this?” Viggo demanded. “I might have lost an eye.”
“Stop whining; you have two,” Sean said, pushing past Viggo.
“Would you say the same to Cillian?” Viggo asked.
“Of course not.” Sean grinned as his husband bolted across the floor to embrace him as though they hadn’t seen one another in two years, rather than two hours. “But you must admit that Cillian has one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes in Christendom.”
“In all the world,” Viggo said equably. “We are lucky men, brother.”
“What do you want?” Lady Katherine demanded from the confines of Karl’s arms. “Do you want money? Name your price.”
From her position against Eric’s broad chest, Angelina rolled her eyes. “You really are as thick as your London fog. We have been taken in by do-gooders, you silly bitch. They will not accept bribes, unless I am much mistaken.”
“All men have a price.”
“That may be true,” Viggo said. “But it is also true that nothing you have to offer would buy a single one of us.”
“You sound very certain,” Lady Katherine sneered.
“I have seen what you have to offer,” Viggo replied. “More bone than meat.”
“Aye,” Sean chimed in. “A jam tart or two would do you no harm, lass.” Captain Bean ignored the imprecations the young lady hurled at him and his immediate ancestors. “Karl, when you get our charges aboard ship, tell Commander Crowe to feed this one up. We cannot have her solicitor claiming we starved her during the voyage.”
“Voyage? What voyage?” Angelina inquired.
“You do not think we would take you to Port Prince Edward for trial, do you?” Orlando asked. “There is not a magistrate on the island whose pockets are not lined with Bosworth gold. You are going home to England, ladies.”
Angelina protested. “I am not an Englishwoman.”
“True, Mademoiselle Jolie. Would you like to be handed over to the French authorities?”
“Not particularly,” Angelina said. “Are you the leader?”
“At the moment.”
“Then I would like to speak with you about coming to some sort of arrangement. I have a vast knowledge of Lady Katherine’s hidden accounts and clandestine activities.”
“I am sure any details you can supply will weigh in favor of mercy when you are sentenced.” Orlando nodded, and Karl and Eric escorted their prisoners from the room.
“We should follow them,” Cillian said, drawing on the trousers Sean had brought him.
“They will not sail without us,” Orlando assured his friend.
“I know, but I want to be there when the commander meets Kate.”
“The commander is a masterful man,” Oded said. “A mere woman will not cause him even a moment of worry.”
“You have a lot to learn about women, boyo,” Cillian grinned. “Come on, Sean. Stir yourself, you great lump.”
“Yes,” Orlando said. “Let us not linger here. I wish to turn our prisoners over to the Royal Navy with all possible haste, and then I wish to sail for home.”
“I miss Johnny, too,” Viggo said.
“Poor sod,” Sean said automatically, as he’d done since the tragedy had befallen the major.
“And he had such promise as a pirate, the poor darlin’ man.” Cillian took Sean’s hand and tugged him toward the door.
“You may count yourselves fortunate that Craig and Miranda cannot hear your mockery,” Orlando said a trifle primly.
“Say what you will.” Sean bowed his head. “I mourn for Johnny. Aye, and for Craig as well. Miranda’s a lass and she’ll take it in stride. Might even make a proper woman of her.”
“Would you like me to repeat those words to her?” Orlando asked.
“Cillian!” Sean exclaimed. “Why do we tarry here? Our ship is waiting.”
Oded smiled as Sean and Cillian hurried away. “So, my lord,” he said to Orlando. “You have done as you vowed. Those who controlled the slave trade are either dead or awaiting justice at the hands of your government. You should be proud.”
“Proud?” Orlando’s expression was enigmatic. “I feel an easing of my burden, if that is what you mean. As long as there are people held in bondage, it will be difficult to feel proud of myself as a human being. However, I confess to a lightness of spirit to know that Lady Katherine and her ilk will no longer ply these waters.”
Oded inclined his head in a gesture of great respect. “I wish that you might see yourself through my eyes for just one moment. I think you would be proud.”
“So, my lord, you no longer deem me best suited to the harem?”
“You would be the crowning jewel of any harem,” Oded bowed from the waist. “But I think you are best suited to shepherd this fellow.”
“True.” Viggo made eyes at his lover. “Helpless lambs should not be left on their own.”
Orlando made a show of looking around the room. “I see no such creature.”
Oded cleared his throat. “My honored friends, you know I hold you in the highest esteem, but I have a confession. When you fall to love-play, I begin to feel somewhat as though I were afflicted with the seasickness. I beg you to remain circumspect in my company.”
“Jealousy ill becomes you, Sharif,” Orlando observed.
“Now you have become ridiculous,” Oded said. “May I assume my debt of honor is paid?”
“A hundredfold, my friend.” Orlando pulled the Sharif into a warm embrace.
“I hope you will have some time for leisure now,” Oded said, when he stepped back.
“It is the only thought in my mind at the moment,” Orlando said. “And all my will is bent on a swift journey home.”
“Greet Major Depp for me,” the Sharif requested. “And tell him I wish him good health.”
“He will need your good wishes,” Viggo said, before Orlando’s elbow hit his midsection.
“Please do not be tiresome simply because the other lads are doing it,” the former governor sighed. “I love you to distraction, but you fall too easily into the manner of a ruffian when you are in the company of Captain Bean for any length of time.”
“They are brothers of the heart, if not of the blood,” Oded said. “I will bid you farewell until we are together again.”
“Until then,” Orlando agreed. “I feel quite certain I will be needing you and your ships again some day.”
“I feel the same certainty,” Viggo said. “My Orlando has yet to rid the world of all evil.”
“In that, he will always have my sword to call upon.” With a last bow to the other two men, the Sharif walked away.
Viggo and Orlando arrived at the beach where Commander Crowe’s warship was anchored in time to wave good-bye to one of the Royal Navy’s newest “auxiliaries”. Orlando thought it had a nicer sound than “privateer”. They boarded their sloop and sailed it together back to Viggo’s homeland. The lookout on the headland lit the signal fire when he saw the sleek craft and by the time the heroes made port, the docks were lined with cheering crowds.
It was some time before they managed to travel the distance between the harbor and the fortress and their arms were laden with flowers and small gifts. Owing to many drinks pressed upon them in welcome, their gait was somewhat unsteady when they entered the castle’s living quarters. Craig raised an eyebrow at their condition when he greeted them.
“I hope you do not imagine I will let you enter Miranda’s chambers in your present state,” the Marshal said.
“I have missed you as well, Craig,” Viggo replied. “But you cannot tell me what to do in my own castle. We made many sacrifices to get here as fast as we could. We went without sleep, without food, even without the comfort of one another’s arms. Stand aside.”
“I can see you are in no mood for reason, and will not be gainsaid, but have a care for Miranda’s feelings. They are unchancy just now.”
“That is to be expected, surely,” Orlando said. “And we promise to be on our best behavior.”
Craig opened the door. “Enter at your peril,” he said.
Miranda beamed at Viggo and Orlando from the big bed, but Johnny was nowhere to be seen. Before they could ask, an ear-scraping wail shivered the air followed so closely by another that they could not have come from the same throat. A moment later, Johnny entered through another door, red-faced and encumbered by two armloads of linen.
Miranda smiled indulgently. “He loves them, but I cannot convince him they are not to be carried like piglets to the fair,” she told the visitors.
“I assure you, madam, I am doing my utmost, but as a wet nurse I am afraid you will find me somewhat inadequate.” Looking as harried as a man fighting two swordsmen at once, Johnny came to the bedside and set down his bundles. The squalling broke out anew.
“Have you no greeting for an old friend?” Orlando spoke up.
Johnny seemed to notice him for the first time. “No,” he said. “No greeting, no time, no strength, nothing. I have nothing left after a few hours with these… these…”
“Babies,” Craig said, as he came to stand at the other side of the bed. “They are called babies.”
Johnny scowled at the Marshal. “Actually, the word I was searching for is goblin.”
“They are your children,” Miranda said. “And you love them. Come and sit beside me.”
“I thought perhaps that I might go with Orlando and Viggo and speak of all that has passed in the…” Johnny ticked off seven fingers. “In the nearly eight months since they set sail.”
“We would have been home sooner if it were possible,” Viggo said quickly.
“Indeed,” Orlando added. “It is not as if we were enjoying ourselves and now that the slave ring is broken, we can rest until another blackguard oozes up to trouble the peace.”
“Yes, we should get some rest,” Viggo said even more quickly. “I would like a look at the little ones and then I would like to be re-united with my bed.”
Proudly, Miranda folded back the swaddling blankets to reveal two miniature copies of her own fair face. Wisps of golden down were already curling into ringlets on the infants’ heads, but their eyes were as dark as undiluted coffee.
“The message said a girl and a boy,” Orlando said softly, touching a round cheek with his forefinger. “Which is this?”
“She,” Miranda emphasized the pronoun. “Is a little maid that we have decided to call Orlanda. I think it has a beautiful sound and it honors a dear friend, as well as being similar to my own name.”
“I like it very much,” Viggo said, tickling Orlanda’s chin. “She has your smile, Miranda.”
“Is she not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?” Craig burst out.
Viggo and Orlando turned startled eyes on the Marshal, and then broke out in grins as Craig’s fair skin went bright pink.
“I cannot help it,” the fierce warrior mumbled. “As soon as I saw Miranda’s children, they owned my heart. I never knew I could love something so much.”
“Our children,” Miranda said, reaching for Craig’s hand. “You are their father as well as Johnny.”
“Thank all the Powers,” Johnny said. “Two children need two fathers, if anyone were to ask me. It is too large job for one person.”
“Then do your best, major,” Orlando said. “I am sure it will be good enough.”
Johnny could no longer keep up his pose of irritation. A smile broke over his face as he and Orlando moved toward one another to meet in a warm embrace at the foot of the big bed. After a moment, Viggo joined them, wrapping his arms around both. The hug expanded to include Craig and Miranda and both babies, ending only when an ominous creaking portended the imminent collapse of the piece of furniture they had overloaded.
“And what of the little lad?” Orlando asked, when order was restored. “What will you call him?”
“Not Viggo, I hope,” Viggo said.
“You need not worry on that score, my friend,” Johnny said. “One Viggo is quite enough.”
“Aye,” Craig nodded. “No disrespect to my king, but it would be foolish to think the children will remain here all their lives, considering the family they were born into, and we would like them to have names that will not sound so… foreign to English ears.”
“If I may be so bold, I have always thought that William is a fine name,” Orlando said. “I have used it as an alias and it never fails to inspire trust.”
“William and Orlanda,” Miranda tried it out. “Orlie and Will. Tis not unpleasant.”
“I like it,” Craig glanced at Johnny.
“You know the choosing of names is of no consequence to me except to insist that the choice should not be a likely target of jests.”
“Well done, Orlando,” Miranda said. “You must never leave again. You can see how much we need you here.”
“Is there nothing you cannot do?” Viggo teased his lover. “You fight piracy and dub babies with equal skill.”
“I had excellent teachers,” Orlando answered on a yawn. “Forgive me. My weariness has caught up with me. My congratulations, my friends, but I beg your leave to go.”
“Regretfully granted,” Miranda said. “Return as soon as you may.”
To the music of dear voices wishing them happy dreams, Viggo and Orlando left the new family alone to seek their chambers. It was obvious that some of the house staff had been there recently, placing fresh greenery in pots, scattering sweet herbs across the bedding and laying out a small meal.
“Your people take good care of us,” Orlando said, shrugging out of his coat.
Viggo made a noise of agreement as he pulled the ribbon free of Orlando’s hair. The glossy chestnut waves tumbled over smooth shoulders as Viggo undid the laces of his lover’s loose shirt. Letting the sable tresses flow over his hands, the Dane kneaded the muscles of Orlando’s back. “How tired are you?” he asked.
Orlando smiled as his hair was parted and soft lips brushed his nape. “Husband,” he said softly, savoring the new word on his tongue. “I wonder that you did not mention the solemnizing of our bond to our friends.”
“I noticed that you did not bring it up either.”
“I did not wish to take away from Miranda’s accomplishment.” Orlando’s smile broadened as he turned to face Viggo.
“Nor I.” Viggo sighed happily as Orlando’s elegant mustache tickled the sensitive skin behind his earlobe. “When we finish celebrating the births, we will have a feast day to honor our troth, and I will once more claim you in front of those that matter to me.”
“Will that not shock the guests?”
“Imp of mischief. When I say I will claim you, I do not mean to top you amidst the baked meats and honey cakes.” Viggo paused. “Though the thought of you covered with honey is a most agreeable one.”
Orlando made a face. “I feel sticky just imagining it.”
“That may be your only fault, my heart. You have an unnatural fondness for bathing.”
“Barbarian.”
“Fop.”
“By God, I love you so much.” Orlando pressed his forehead hard against Viggo’s. “I understand entirely what Craig meant when he said he felt he would burst with love. Sometimes when I look at you, it is all I can do to contain myself.”
“Only sometimes?”
Orlando chuckled softly. “I am being circumspect, sir. Do you remember our first meeting?”
“How is it possible I could forget the worst and best moment of my life?”
“I was just thinking, as I often do, about how unlikely it was that we should have met. If slavers had not captured Miranda. If you had not gone after her. If Captain Bean had not been an agent of the Crown. You and I would never have had occasion to be in the same place at the same time. As much as I despise slavery and those who perpetuate the practice, they brought you to me.”
“In fact, it was Captain Rush that brought me to you.” Viggo smiled. “And you stole me from him, you pirate.”
“Privateer,” Orlando corrected indignantly. “I have stolen nothing more tangible than a maidenhead in my life.”
Viggo snorted, stirring Orlando’s curls. “Stolen maidenheads, my arse. Why am I sure that every female you cast your eye on fell onto her back like her heels were round?”
“You flatter me.” Orlando unbuckled the belt that held up Viggo’s leather kilt. “It has been almost two years since we became allies of necessity, and though there are many things I would gladly change about the past, I would gladly endure them again to have you.”
“You did not merely endure,” Viggo said. “You triumphed, and by your example gained a powerful ally for your cause.”
“The poor Sharif.” Orlando smiled. “Once his eyes were opened, he could not close them again.”
“And he was the perfect catspaw in our plan to find the ringleader of the slave trade. Your plan worked perfectly and…”
“And?” Orlando let his hands roam as he kissed his way along Viggo’s jaw line.
“And you were right. Oded is a good man when given the chance.”
Orlando smiled against the arc of flesh that connected Viggo’s neck and shoulder. “He said the same of you,” he murmured.
Viggo snorted, and then gasped as Orlando nipped sharply at tender skin. “If you are that hungry, I will fetch some food for you.”
“You are going nowhere,” Orlando growled. “It has been too long since we lay together, and now we are behind closed doors, I will not brook further delay.”
“You are a constant wonder to me,” Viggo said, tightening his embrace. “Never leave.”
“You already have my sacred promise to stay at your side, come fire or flood, but if you would have more proof that my pledge is true…”
Orlando claimed Viggo’s mouth, running his tongue along every surface with tantalizing slowness. Drawing Viggo’s tongue into his mouth, Orlando sucked strongly as his hands crept down his husband’s back. The young man rucked up the Dane’s leather kilt and worked his fingers into the downy cleft between the firm ass cheeks. Swallowing Viggo’s deep groan, Orlando relinquished his mouth to taste the delights of the delicate eyelids, the stubbled chin and all else in between. He slid slowly down, running his tongue over the declivities of Viggo’s collarbones, rhythmically squeezing the globes of Viggo’s backside, as he worked his way southward. Nibbling, licking and sucking, he lavished attention on the Dane’s nipples, belly button, and every hard contour of every muscle his mouth could reach. By the time Orlando’s warm breath caressed the head of Viggo’s cock, the full length was taut and digging into soft lower belly flesh.
“So eager, husband,” Orlando breathed.
“Do wish to hear me say it?” Viggo tipped his head down, eyes glowing like foxfire behind the curtain of his shaggy bangs. “I burn for you, husband.”
A swift little shiver ran the length of Orlando’s frame as he looked up into the gaze that had become his heaven. “Now you have done it,” he said mock-crossly, as he sagged against the other man. “You have turned my bones to jelly and my blood to flame. I fear your servants will have to mop what is left of me from the floor.”
Viggo hooked his hands in Orlando’s armpits to haul him up. A moment later, he landed atop the young man, doing his best to turn in mid-air to take half the impact. Orlando flopped on his back, giggling helplessly, his eyes sparkling with tears of laughter.
“I had forgotten how ticklish you are,” Viggo mused, his hand stealing toward tempting ribs.
“Do not dare!” Orlando put a hand to Viggo’s chest, fending him off.
“Is there a threat to go with that?” the Dane wanted to know.
Orlando let his eyes drop to Viggo’s arousal. As he watched, a bead of cloudy liquid formed at the tip and overflowed in a thin stream of translucent honey. He met his husband’s gaze again, unconsciously licking his lips before he spoke. “I do not threaten, you brazen piece.”
Viggo grunted as he was rolled onto his back. Strong arms pushed his knees almost to his ears as Orlando knelt before him. The young man yanked his husband’s ass onto his thighs and leaned forward, butting their crotches firmly together. Viggo let his legs sprawl as he reached up, pulling Orlando’s head down with a hand on the back of his neck. As their mouths met, Orlando pulsed his hips, sliding his cock against Viggo’s, the coarse linen of his trousers adding another layer of stimulation. Pinning Viggo’s wrists to the rug, Orlando darted his tongue in and out of the other man’s mouth as he dry thrust against him. The Dane got the soles of his feet against the floor and pushed back, grinding his rock hard shaft over and across Orlando’s, rolling and slipping in manner that was near to taking him over the edge.
“I yield,” Viggo gasped.
“And I have yet to remove my clothing.”
“Smirking does not become you.”
“Do you wish to be topped or not?”
“You would not be so cruel as to deny me now.”
Orlando smiled, his fugitive dimples making a welcome appearance. “No, truly I could not, however… Do you not think we are sailing too quickly into port?”
Viggo grinned as he wrapped his scarred hands around his thighs and rolled onto his shoulders. “I think we have many journeys of this sort still to take. When we next set sail, I promise you that the voyage will be lengthy and… Blast it! Must I beg you?”
Orlando kicked off his trousers. “I am as eager as you, as you can see.”
Viggo let his gaze dwell on the other man’s handsome cock. “I can think of nothing I want more at this moment than to feel you inside me, but at some point on this trip, I will want a taste of that.”
“How can I deny you?” Orlando straddled Viggo’s ribcage, putting his crotch right where Viggo wanted it.
Reaching up to take a double handful of Orlando’s sculpted ass, Viggo tenderly kissed the young man’s hanging sack. Orlando swayed as Viggo gently sucked one ball and then the other into his mouth. Levering himself up, Viggo ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Orlando’s long cock a few times before taking the head into his mouth. Orlando dropped to rest on his fists, thrusting delicately as his lover sucked and swallowed, coaxing him closer and closer to release.
“I was not finished,” Viggo muttered as Orlando moved back between his thighs.
“I shall remedy that now.” Orlando took hold of Viggo’s straining shaft and pumped it rapidly, collecting the liquid that oozed from tip. Smearing the viscous fluid around Viggo’s hole, he teased the other man with a fingertip before taking mercy on him. Spitting in his palm, he added the moisture to his cock, already glistening with Viggo’s saliva.
“Why do you tarry?”
Orlando smiled again. Viggo enjoyed being taken with minimal preparation, and his impatience never failed to amuse and flatter Orlando simultaneously. “Softly, my love,” he answered. “The moment that I enter you is a sublime one for me. Forgive me if I linger over it.”
“You know I can deny you nothing.”
“Nor I you.” Orlando pushed the tip of his shaft through the resilient ring that guarded Viggo’s channel. “How like you this, beloved?”
“Passing well,” Viggo said in a strained voice. “Is there more like it?”
Orlando pulsed his hips, easing another inch into the reluctantly yielding passage. “Can you feel me, love?”
“Aye.” Viggo let out a long breath he’d been holding. “You may not be as long as a mainmast, but I’ll wager your hardness is much the same. Ah! Yes! Give me more. Yes! More!”
Orlando braceleted Viggo’s ankles with his hands, holding loosely as he sheathed his full length. He rubbed absently at his lover’s curled toes as he savored the sensation of being connected to his soul mate physically as well as spiritually. While Orlando did not doubt the Dane’s love for him, he found he craved this intimate and tangible proof.
Viggo bore down with interior muscles in a quick little squeeze. “Have you fallen asleep?”
“I can imagine no fairer bed in which to rest for eternity.” Orlando withdrew halfway and thrust gently.
“More,” Viggo prompted, gasping as Orlando took hold of his cock.
“More you shall have. All I am, or ever hope to be, is yours, whether you claim it or not.” Orlando flexed his ass, moving in and out of Viggo at a sedate pace. “So you see, you are stuck with me and my advice is to make the best of it.”
“I am, you…” Viggo’s words broke off in a deep groan of bliss.
Orlando smiled and increased the tempo of his stroke. Rolling his hips, he shifted his balance from foot to foot, driving the head of his cock over Viggo’s most sensitive spot from a different angle on each stroke. Viggo dug his heels into Orlando’s shoulders, seeking purchase in an attempt to meet his lover halfway. Orlando’s smiled broadened to a wicked grin as he wrapped strong arms around Viggo’s thighs, effectively immobilizing the Dane’s lower half. Viggo grabbed a double handful of the bedding, planted his elbows and made a bow of his spine. Orlando grunted as Viggo’s pelvis slammed into his, their flesh meeting with a wet slap that sent a tremor through both their groins. Raising an eyebrow, Orlando tightened his grip and began to thrust in long powerful strokes, retreating to the very brink before plunging back in, never stopping until his balls filled Viggo’s crack. Their eyes locked and Viggo grinned savagely back at the man who rode him, eyes flaring with an answering fire that spurred Orlando to greater efforts.
“Gods!” Viggo cried hoarsely as he approached the point of no return.
Orlando let go of one of Viggo’s thighs and pushed the Dane’s knee to the mattress. Leaning in, the young man lifted his lover’s head until their lips met. Viggo’s fingers dug into the hard muscles of Orlando’s biceps as he levered himself up in an instinctive urge for closer contact. Orlando thrust his tongue into Viggo’s mouth as he filled Viggo’s passage with his shaft, their moans mingling into one sound of sublime pleasure. Viggo took Orlando’s tongue in his teeth and clamped down on the rod that prodded him to the peak. Orlando reached between them and squeezed Viggo’s leaking cock in a warm grip. Viggo held his breath as his aching arousal pulsed against Orlando’s palm and shot a pale stream into the air.
“Always so good,” Viggo murmured against Orlando’s lips as his climax washed through him.
Orlando bit down on Viggo’s lower lip as he pinned the Dane’s free leg to bed with his knee. Giving the other man no time to recover, he thrust hard and fast, long and slow, shallow and deep. Viggo wriggled and squirmed and panted for breath, every cell tingling with a nearly unbearable delight at the sliding sensation of the long cock sinking into him and pulling back. Orlando’s beautiful face was tense with anticipation and Viggo knew his lover was near the edge. Bearing down on Orlando’s shaft, Viggo clenched and released, drawing a shuddering moan from his beloved’s lips.
“Ah, what you do to me, my lord barbarian,” Orlando breathed. “I am undone.”
Viggo lay back and absorbed the sensation of Orlando’s cock spurting deep inside him. The young man’s eyes were closed and his mouth hung open on a small cry as his orgasm overtook him and overwhelmed him with its power. Viggo opened his arms and gathered his lover to his chest, holding him close as he melted in the afterglow.
“That was some champion swivin’ as your friend Cillian would say.” Viggo’s breath stirred the darling curl that lay against Orlando’s forehead.
“I cannot dispute you, sir.” Orlando’s voice was creamy with satisfaction.
Viggo tilted his head and took Orlando’s mouth in a slow sweet kiss that made both their groins ache in an echo of their recent release. “Gods, I cannot believe how much I want you. Even now, with my belly still wet with seed, I burn to join with you again.”
“Not just yet, I pray thee, but here is a kiss in promise.” Orlando wound his fingers in the Dane’s long flaxen hair and brought their lips together again in a series of drowsy kisses.
“What think you of my plan?” Viggo asked lightly as Orlando nestled against him, rearranging pillows and coverlets to his liking.
“I thought we were done with plots for a time.”
“Aye. I was speaking of the farm.”
“Ahhh.” Orlando’s sigh was warm against Viggo’s neck. “The farm plan.”
“Do not scorn it until…”
“That was humor, not scorn, my love. Go on. I am listening.”
Viggo snorted. “Jest if you will. It is only my dream you sneer at.”
Orlando’s soft chuckle brushed against Viggo’s ear. “What a hard-hearted husband you have, poor thing.”
Viggo hugged the young man tight. “And I would not trade him for an entire harem.”
“Are you certain? I know someone that could provide you with a…”
“No more teasing,” Viggo said mock-sternly. “Or I will not tell you about the farm.”
Orlando snuggled even closer, pillowing his head on Viggo’s shoulder and throwing a long leg across the Dane’s thighs. “I will be quiet now,” he said, twisting a strand of Viggo’s golden chest hair around his finger.
“To the west, but not too far, there is a swathe of green between the mountains and the sea. There stands a farmhouse built of driftwood and stone with fields for planting and pasture. The grass is rich and so green it looks blue. My grandfather told me it was the best grazing for horses.”
“I have always wanted to breed horses,” Orlando murmured.
“We would start with a few mares and a good stud. In a few years…”
“I like your plan,” Orlando interrupted sleepily. “Now let me sleep.”
“I could take you there in the morning,” Viggo said, stroking Orlando’s tumbled locks.
“If I say yes, may I go to sleep?”
“If you promise to dream of me.”
“With all my heart.” Orlando’s words trailed off in a soft snore.
“I love you,” Viggo said into his husband’s hair, and joined him in dreams.
The End