a low, vibratory chuckle rumbled against mhesrelvin's ribs, the sound rich with the dark satisfaction of a gambler who had just watched the dice fall precisely as predicted. arslan's sudden, desperate gulp of the spiced wine was the final crack in the dam, and mhesrelvin watched with predatory delight as the knight's rigid discipline dissolved into the dizzying haze of desire. the heavy silver cup clattered against the stone floor, forgotten, as the northern warrior's hands vast, scarred, and violent clutched at the soft flesh of mhesrelvin's hips.
❛ defy my gods ? ❜ mhesrelvin echoed, the words a teasing caress against arslan's ear. he leaned back just enough to look down into the knight's conflicted eyes, his own gaze glittering with an irreverent amusement that bordered on blasphemy. ❛ oh, my sweet, serious knight. you truly believe this stone house belongs to the heavens ? the gods of craeseon are not found in prayers, arslan. they are found in the blood we spill and the secrets we keep. this habit was never a covenant. it was a prison sentence. and tonight, you are my jailbreak. ❜
mhesrelvin's fingers, smooth and entirely unmarred by the hard labor of the monastery, traced the harsh line of arslan's jawline before slipping down to the collar of the knight's tunic. with a slow, deliberate tug, he pulled the coarse fabric open, exposing the brutal topography of the man's chest. it was a canvas of violence pitted by old arrow wounds, jagged lines from broadswords, and the faint, pale traces of older lashings. to a holy man, it might have been a horrifying testament to mortal cruelty. to mhesrelvin, a creature bred in the venomous courts of the peninsula, it was the most intoxicating thing he had ever laid eyes upon.
❛ what do i want ? ❜ mhesrelvin murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry, commanding whisper as arslan's hand wrapped around his throat. the grip was tight enough to restrict his breath, just enough to make his pulse hammer frantically against the knight's palm, but mhesrelvin only smiled, leaning into the choke. it was a familiar dance the assertion of power, the thrill of danger. ❛ i want you to forget the weight of that northern crown. i want you to use that strength, that beautiful, destructive fury, for something other than a dead kingdom. ❜
shifting his weight, mhesrelvin slid down the knight's lap, the friction of their bodies generating a sudden, scorching heat through the remaining barriers of their clothes. he reached down, his knuckles brushing past the taut line of arslan's abdomen, and deftly stripped away the linen trousers that separated them. the sudden, stark revelation of arslan's arousal thick, throbbing, and radiating a fierce heat made mhesrelvin's breath catch in earnest. the sheer, masculine contrast between them was devastating ; mhesrelvin was lean, pale, and elegant, while arslan was a mountain of iron-hard muscle and unbridled, desperate need.
mhesrelvin did not give the knight time to think, to let duty reassert its cold grip. arching his back, he guided arslan's large hands up from his hips, pressing them flat against his own pale chest. he wanted the knight to feel the stark difference, to realize that this sanctuary was entirely real, entirely physical.
❛ take it, ❜ mhesrelvin gasped softly, his hips tilting forward, deliberately brushing the sensitive, aching tip of arslan's length against his own thigh. ❛ you came here seeking a priest to absolve your sins, arslan, but i am no saint. i am a craeseon. we take what we desire, and right now, i desire the man beneath the armor. ❜
the grip on mhesrelvin's throat tightened instinctively as arslan groaned, a sound torn from the deepest, most starved part of his soul. the conflict in the knight's eyes was burning out, replaced entirely by a dark, possessive hunger. mhesrelvin felt the sudden, violent shift in the air the moment the submissive guest became the conqueror. arslan's hands bruised his waist, lifting him slightly, aligning them in the dim, flickering candlelight.
mhesrelvin threw his head back, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he prepared to receive the full, unyielding force of the northern storm. ❛ show me, ❜ he whispered against the heat of arslan's mouth, just before their lips crashed together in a bruised, desperate collision of teeth and tongue. ❛ show me how a knight breaks a priest. ❜
