A Private Solicitation
"I don't want your money, Chaucer," said Edward, leaning back in his chair and toying with his goblet of wine, a smile playing around his features, making him look devilishly handsome in a way Chaucer really didn't want to think about.
Geoff sat down hard, frustration making his tongue looser than it should be. "I confess then that I do not understand why you even entertained this audience, your Highness," he said, looking wearily into the Black Prince's glittering eyes. "You do not want my service, my wit or my talent, nor do you wish my gold. I have nothing else to offer, and yet you claim you wish to help William."
Edward's gaze grew sharper, hotter, roaming over Chaucer's face and the open expanse of thin, hairless chest showing beneath his tunic, and Geoff felt his cheeks growing red. "There is one thing you have to offer which I find myself desirous of," he said, every inch the predator that Chaucer had heard he could be. "Offer me your body, and I will help him."
Geoff's eyes went wide, and he looked down at himself and back up a few times before he found his tongue. "You... but you're a Prince, what would you want with the body of a simple scribe?"
Edward laughed, and the sound skittered down Chaucer's spine and settled somewhere lower down. He sprawled sensuously in his chair, legs spreading, drawing Geoff's willing eyes to their apex and the stretch of fine leather over the growing bulge there. "You're a man of the world, Geoff, what do you think I want with you?"
Chaucer swallowed, then nodded. "All right. The love that dares not speak its name it is, then." He found he was blushing, or perhaps flushed, with the thought of it -- though William had taught them all that nobility was more about heart than birth, there was something very special about the idea of being with royalty. Especially royalty such as Edward, who had that same nobility of spirit as William, though with an extra helping of self-interest and a hidden streak of wicked hedonism.
Edward stood and held his hand out to Chaucer silently, and Geoff took it, allowing the prince to pull him to his feet and flush against Edward's firm body. Edward wrapped him up in arms grown strong from illicit jousting, making him feel slender and strangely delicate, for all that he was the taller of the two. Edward's hands were gentle as they found their way under his tunic, hot against his skin, though not as hot as Edward's mouth against his own.
Chaucer kissed back with the same exploratory enthusiasm he gave to any new experience, finding that Edward tasted pleasantly of spiced wine and desire, and that being desired by a man like the Black Prince was its own sort of aphrodisiac. He felt his body begin to respond, and he didn't even have time to be embarrassed about it before Edward's hands were coaxing his arousal higher, stroking over his skin as though it were the softest velvet.
"Not to interrupt," Chaucer squeaked as Edward's hands began moving rather more southward, "but I was hoping we might conduct this activity in a more suitable venue?" He jerked his head toward the wide bed, hung with dark, heavy curtains that would provide them with an illusion of privacy.
Edward chuckled, but nodded, giving Chaucer's arse a quick squeeze before pulling away. "You are a fine young man," he said, making Chaucer's blush deepen as his eyes found the bulge of Chaucer's erection and lingered there, leaving the statement hanging in the air suggestively while his hands began to remove the rich tapestry of his clothing.
Chaucer felt quite a bit less the lily with Edward's fine body being revealed, the strong limbs and broad chest, a light dusting of black hair that matched the man's nom de guerre. The trousers came down to reveal thick black hair and an equally thick cock, hanging half-hard against a strong thigh. Chaucer found himself kneeling, helping with the boots though his eyes were riveted on Edward's prick, truly a royal endowment that made Chaucer's mouth water with this strange new desire.
"That mouth of yours is so good at finding just the right words for your liege," said Edward, once his clothes were discarded and he stood, regal in his nudity and utterly unashamed, looking down at Chaucer on his knees. "Would you care to show me if you've any other talents, Geoff, or do you prefer to bend a different way for your Prince?"
Chaucer blushed again, realizing that Edward assumed him far more worldly than he was. He pressed a single kiss to the swiftly-rising length, then stood and shucked out of his own overrobe, toeing off his boots with his eyes downward as he spoke. "I believe your Majesty overestimates the breadth of my carnal knowledge, and so I must leave that decision up to the voice of experience."
Edward's eyes went wide, and his smile wider as the meaning behind Chaucer's declaration became clear. "Then I shall feel doubly honoured to have you in my bed, and teach you the pleasures that man can find only with man," he said, stepping forward to kiss Geoff with surprising sweetness.
Chaucer made short work of the rest of his clothing and allowed himself to be led to the bed, pressed back into the mattress and covered with Edward's strong, warm body. "I think," said Geoff between kisses that warmed him to the bone, "that I would have given in to your wishes, even were there not so much at stake."
Edward moaned and kissed him fiercely, then sat back so he was kneeling between Geoff's splayed thighs. "It makes this much sweeter," he said, snagging a vial of scented oil from the jumble on his bedside dresser, "to have you in my bed willing and wanting."
"The Black Prince deserves only the best of me," said Chaucer with an odd little half-laugh. It choked off into a moan when a slick finger found his tender entrance and slipped carefully inside, sneaking in like a thief to steal his breath away.
"Tight," said Edward, his voice gone rough and his own face darkening with desire as he prepared Geoff carefully, adding a second finger and then a third after torturously long moments, until Chaucer thought he might beg, if he could find his voice at all. Finally Edward slipped his fingers out and slicked his cock up, crawling up Geoff's body to take another of those bone-melting kisses, leaving Chaucer limp and open. "Ready?"
Geoff nodded, and felt Edward's cock pressing against his opening, the head surprisingly soft where it stroked and rubbed before pushing inward and breaching him. It slid in easily, striking a spark that only fed the flames of Chaucer's lust, and this time it was Chaucer who pulled his Prince down for a deep, greedy kiss.
Edward barely paused, resting one long moment before giving in to the demands of both their bodies and starting up a rhythm as familiar as a heartbeat. Chaucer's hips came up to meet Edward's cock as it slid home, making the height of each thrust that much sharper, and the burst of pleasure it brought that much brighter. Geoff thought he might explode just from this, but he didn't have to find out, because one of Edward's large, sword-callused hands wrapped around his own modest prick and stroked him to an embarrassingly quick completion.
He felt a bit more vindicated when it was soon followed by Edward's, a shudder and tight little whisper of, "Geoff," that made something warm blossom in Chaucer's chest. A few moments spent kissing and catching their breaths, and Edward rolled them over, tucked Chaucer's head against his shoulder and the covers around them both.
Chaucer was just falling into sleep when he heard Edward whisper, "I would have helped William, even were you not so accommodating."
"Good," said Chaucer, and he drifted off with a smile on his face, mind brimming with half-formed plans to make sure that William stayed in London after the tournament season was over.
Title: A Private Solicitation