Sorry about the lack of updates! Enjoy this porny little interlude!
When Cristiano awoke it was to the feel of a hand caressing his back.
"The servants brought us some breakfast," the king said, kissing Cristiano's jawline, sliding his hand lower to cup his ass. "You should eat hearty, you have a long day ahead of you."
Cristiano shifted until he was sitting up, observing the tray next to the bed. There was all manner of fruit, sweet rolls, toast with little jars of jam for spreading, a couple glasses of juice. There was even a sprig of mint to chew on afterward.
"When I was a soldier I ate meat and eggs for breakfast. I'm going to get fat if you keep feeding me this way," he complained, biting into a piece of fruit.
The king shrugged, fingers teasing the lines and ridges of Cristiano's abs. "That's all right. I think you'd look lovely all soft and round."
Cristiano raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I very much doubt it. You just want to fatten me up so you can keep pretending I'm your husband."
"I don't pretend you're my husband," the king said. Cristiano had expected him to get angry, or at least annoyed, but he didn't seem put out at all, just pressing soft kisses across Cristiano's shoulders. When he glanced down he could see the king's cock plumping up between his thighs.
"You do," Cristiano muttered, finishing his fruit. He wasn't terribly hungry, so he simply gave the mint a few chews to freshen his breath before spitting it back out. The king was touching him everywhere, stroking his hands over Cristiano's arms and back and thighs, caressing his smooth skin. He shivered a bit when the king started toying with the diamond rings in his nipples, shifting his legs to hide his growing erection. Sometimes he hated that King Messi could effect him this way, and always so easily. Those clever hands always managed to stoke a fire in him that he couldn't control.
Messi kissed his neck, putting a hand on his jaw and tilting his head to the side. The king was more emotionally unguarded in the mornings, Cristiano had noticed, when he was still a bit fuzzy from sleep, and would often kiss and stroke and pet him. It was a nice contrast to the rough manner in which the king usually took him, and Cristiano had to force himself not to enjoy it too much. He'd always been a romantic at heart, and now that he was the king's exclusively, he had no one else to satisfy his desire for a soft touch. He could feel himself melting into those soft caresses despite his efforts not to, and his eyes slowly slipped shut, a quiet moan escaping him.
"So responsive. You always have been," the king murmured, guiding Cristiano back down onto the bed. There was a little pot of oil beside the bed and he dipped his fingers in it before sliding a hand between Cristiano's thighs. It was always fairly frustrating to Cristiano, knowing that he could easily overpower the king physically, but having no choice but to submit due to their positions in the castle. With a weapon Messi was better, but hand to hand Cristiano knew he would win the fight ... and then he would undoubtedly be slaughtered by the king's guards the moment he stepped out of the bedchamber. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want to hurt Messi - he was a good ruler to his people, and though he'd been rough at times, he'd never been outright cruel to Cristiano even though he could have been, easily. He simply wanted to be on equal footing with the king.
He felt his legs being guided apart and he acquiesced, thighs opening easily for his king. "I'm so glad you learned your place. I hated having to be harsh with you," the king said softly, rubbing his slippery fingers against the hidden opening between the pert globes of his ass.
"And where is my place, your majesty?" Cristiano asked, grabbing onto the fur bedcover when Messi slid a finger into him.
"Here. Right here," the king murmured, nibbling at his neck, kissing across his collarbone eagerly. "Under me, moaning my name, with those beautiful legs wrapped tight around my waist."
Cristiano's back arched when the king touched that magic spot inside him, the one that never failed to turn him into a wanton, writhing mess. "Then why did you take me on my hands and knees for so long?" he asked. They'd only started making love face-to-face recently; before that, Messi had always turned him over and knelt behind him, pressing his face into the pillows. He hated it - it was humiliating, being taken in a position meant for animals, and the physical pleasure never made up for the embarrassment of being ridden like a beast.
"It was easier. And I thought you wouldn't want to look at me," he said, a second finger sliding into Cristiano's warm passage to stretch him. He was accustomed to it now, so much so that there was hardly any pain, just a mild discomfort at most. And the king was an attentive lover, always making sure to stimulate that amazing spot inside him. He didn't know if it would have been better or worse if he didn't enjoy their lovemaking. Cristiano bit his lip to keep from moaning again, listening to the king continue to speak.
"One day you'll ride me," Messi whispered against his ear. He'd tried that before but Cristiano had always refused, finding it too humiliating to engage in. "I think about it often; you on top of me, riding my cock, moaning out your pleasure. I know you'd love it if you just tried it."
"No," Cristiano said firmly. "I will not be above you like that until you treat me as an equal."
Messi crooked his fingers, brushing the bundle of nerves inside him again, and a cry slipped out of him unbidden. "Then we'll do it like this," the king murmured, kissing across his jawline as he scissored his fingers inside Cristiano, stretching him open carefully. "I enjoy watching your face while I take you."
Cristiano arched up again, hips rocking into Messi's hand without his permission as those thick fingers worked him open. His cock was lying hard against his belly, dripping and pulsing with need, bit the king hadn't told him to touch himself so Cristiano simply gripped the furs and writhed against the bed helplessly. He couldn't stop his moans anymore, breathy ragged noises escaping his pouting pink lips. He'd never known pleasure like this during his days as a soldier - sex was simply a means to an end, not something to be reveled in. He wouldn't have pegged the king as someone to indulge in sumptuous pleasures of the flesh, and maybe he hadn't been before Cristiano had come to him. None of the other concubines had complained about the king's skill, but they never talked about being taken apart like this, reduced to a whimpering, begging mess. It was like he reserved his best talents for Cristiano alone.
Perhaps it was simply that they were compatible. Messi played his body so skillfully that sometimes Cristiano thought he must have been made for the king. Maybe the gods built them for each other.
He relaxed into the bed when Messi slid his fingers out, watching him rub more oil onto his thick cock. Cristiano grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his lower back, then pulled his legs up and open, biting his lip when the king settled between his spread thighs and brushed the slick head of his cock against his stretched entrance. There was some discomfort when Messi slid into him, but it faded to the back of his mind quickly when the king finally grasped his cock, giving it a few strokes as he sank inside Cristiano's tight body. The king's thumb skimmed over the slit at the tip of his cock, toying with the ring pierced through his flesh - another decoration all the concubines were made to wear. It had been painful, though not as bad as he'd been expecting, having a needle pushed though his most sensitive anatomy, and the healing hadn't been terribly fun, but now he felt only pleasure, light lightning sparking up his spine as Messi toyed with the metal. He kept his thrusts slow at first, rocking his hips lazily, and Cristiano wound his legs around his king's waist, giving a tight squeeze as he arched up against him. Their mouths met in a languid kiss, Messi's tongue pushing between his lips, and Cristiano moaned softly, letting his fingers sink into the other man's hair. He stroked and tugged gently at those dark strands, rocking his hips up unconsciously as the king thrust into him.
Messi's free hand was roaming over his long legs as the other stroked him, his thrusts deep and eager, and he managed to brush against against that spot inside him each time he sank in. Cristiano wasn't surprised - the king seemed to know his body like the back of his hand, playing him like an instrument, coaxing moans and pants out of him like music. Cristiano ran his hands down Messi's back, wishing not for the first time that he could stop biting his nails so they'd be long enough to leave marks on that pale skin, not stopping their descent until he grabbed two handfuls of that plush, round ass. He could feel Messi's muscles working under his palms as he rocked in and out, his thick cock stretching Cristiano open wide, sinking deep inside him. The pressure against the spot inside him was unbearable, making Cristiano writhe under Messi's small, compact body, his thighs squeezing so tight it had to be uncomfortable. Messi didn't complain, though, just broke the kiss and groaned out loud, one hand stroking Cristiano's cock eagerly while the other toyed with his diamond collar.
"My eager little beauty," the king murmured, skimming the backs of his knuckles over Cristiano's face gently, staring down at him as he moved. Cristiano wanted to complain about Messi of all people calling him 'little' but when he opened his mouth all that came out was a helpless moan as the king gave a particularly hard thrust, shoving his cock all the way into his tight warmth. "You belong to me, pet. Say that you're mine."
If the king had a flaw, it was most certainly his possessiveness. For a man so generous to his subjects, he was uncharacteristically selfish when it came to Cristiano, treating him like an object to be owned and getting angry when he thought someone was getting too close to him. He had even gotten angry at James once for 'flirting' with Cristiano, and it had taken him hours to calm the poor boy down after he went into near hysterics at the thought of displeasing his king. Only reassurance from Messi himself had been able to settle James' nerves after that.
"I'm yours, my king," he said softly, body jolting a bit when Messi tugged at the ring pierced through the head of his cock. Another spark shot up his spine and he could feel a tingling in his toes signaling that his orgasm was fast approaching. The king grabbed his legs and pushed them back until his knees were almost at his ears, thrusting into him roughly, making Cristiano cry out into the warm air of the bedchamber. Messi's cock was going so deep Cristiano would swear he could taste it, hitting his prostate again and again, and he couldn't hold back any longer, cock erupting into his king's pumping hand. He spilled all over Messi's fingers, soaking his belly with the pearly fluid, body slowly relaxing even as the king pounded into him. He was being jostled roughly, fingers still kneading Messi's ass as the king worked his hips faster and faster, until he finally stiffened and came hard inside him. Cristiano stroked his back soothingly as the king's body jerked with the force of his orgasm, filling Cristiano's warm clenching body with his come.
He had to tug the furs out of the way once Messi slid out and moved off of him, feeling that warm pearly essence dripping out of his stretched passage, smearing across his tanned flesh. Messi slipped a hand between his thighs, fingertips brushing his wet, puffy opening. "Have the servants at the baths put your plug in you. I'll try to steal away while the Duke is here and I want you to be ready for me - we won't have much time. Understood?"
Cristiano ran his tongue over his lips. "Yes, my king." Cristiano hated having to walk around with the plug in him, that constant pressure against his prostate was maddening, and he could barely keep himself from getting hard when he wore it. He was sure the king was aware of this, and he was also sure it amused the little flea. Whenever he bid Cristiano to put it in he would send him secretive little smirks all night, like he was enjoying torturing his favorite concubine.
"I expect you to look your best tonight," he said, kissing Cristiano on the lips before stretching and rolling out of the bed. He looked sated and smug, like the cat that got the canary. Cristiano threw a pillow at him, then grabbed a cloth from the bedside table and cleaned himself up as best he could.
Messi just laughed, dodging it easily. "Don't be a brat. I expect you to be on your best behavior for the Duke." Messi slipped his robe on, grabbing a piece of fruit off Cristiano's tray. "Rest here for a while, it's still early. Then go down to the baths."
Cristiano made a non-committal noise and turned over onto his belly, snuggling into the pillows. He felt a light smack on his ass and heard Messi moving about in the room, but it barely registered as he drifted back to sleep with a tiny, sated smile on his face.
Dun dun dunnn, the drama is starting! Poor Neymar! Warning in this chapter for (off screen) violence. Please tread carefully if you're affected by that!
"Cristiano, Cristiano," James said excitedly as he bounded into the baths where the concubines were being prepared for Duke Mourinho's visit. "I have some very interesting information that I think you'll want to hear."
"More gossip, James? You're worse than the old women in the kitchens," Cristiano said with a laugh, lifting his arms for the servants to shave him.
"It's about that soldier in Roma, the one the King grabbed," James said, smiling brightly as the servants undressed him.
Cristiano rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Third or fourth hand information that no one can actually confirm, I'm sure."
James shook his head, smiling brightly at him. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about Mourinho's visit, despite the fact that everyone knew the Duke had taken a liking to him, and despite the fact that the man's unpleasant reputation most certainly proceeded him. Cristiano hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, planning how he was going to steer the Duke away from James without making a scene.
"My information is very reliable, thank you. One of the soldiers who was there told Olivier last night while they were together, and then Olivier told me," James explained.
"Olivier, of course. He's almost as much of a gossip as you are," Cristiano said teasingly. "And I wouldn't spread this around - I'm sure the King wouldn't appreciate his soldiers spreading his personal business around the castle."
James looked offended. "I'm not going to tell anyone else. What do you take me for?" he asked, turning this way and that for the servants to oil him down for his shave. "Now, as I was saying - the soldier in Roma was talking about you. That's why the King attacked him."
Cristiano heard a snort from his left, turning his head to see Neymar glaring at the wall irritably. Cristiano didn't respond, just turning back to James when he continued talking. "Apparently, the soldier wanted to know how much it would cost for a night with La Pulga's whore. And at first the King let it go, but then the soldier started to describe what he would do to you, in very vivid detail. That's when the King attacked him."
Cristiano sighed softly. The King's attachment to him was getting out of hand.
"He loves you, everyone knows it. Do you promise to come visit us lowly concubines when the King finally marries you?" James asked teasingly, making Cristiano roll his eyes.
"I should tie a tether to your ankle to keep you from floating away," he laughed. One of the servants whispered in his ear and Cristiano sighed.
"I have to go, I have personal business to attend to. James, be careful when the Duke arrives. He likes you too much," Cristiano warned. James just smiled, unworried.
"I can handle him, don't concern yourself. Go see to your business." James nodded toward the private area of the bath and Cristiano let himself be led away, frowning.
"Duke Mourinho of Chelsea!"
Cristiano glanced up from his spot on the pillows next to the King's throne, trying desperately to keep his face neutral as the Duke and his company filed into the great hall. The Duke looked just as unpleasant as ever, frowning at everyone, and Cristiano felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. He would have to keep a close eye on James, who was chatting breezily with Neymar, both of them looking lovely in their jewels and silky tunics.
"My King, it is an honor as always," the Duke said, bowing respectfully to Messi, who acknowledged him with a curt nod. The relationship between the two was cool at best, but Cristiano knew it was mutually advantageous that they get along. Chelsea had many resources the King found useful, and the Duke needed the protection of the finest army in the world. Mourinho's calculating eyes turned to Cristiano.
"Ah, and this must be the diamond in your collection of beautiful jewels. I can scarcely believe that this is the same Dark Invader who terrorized Chelsea for so many years." The Duke leaned down and cupped Cristiano's face, thumb skimming over his cheekbone, and Cristiano had to force a smile as every muscle in is body screamed at him to attack. Messi shifted on his throne. "I remember him with long hair and a beard, wreaking havoc on my city. Who would have thought he would make such a lovely pet?" the Duke asked, stroking Cristiano's face. Messi cleared his throat pointedly and the Duke finally dropped his hand. His touch had put Cristiano on edge; he felt like he was vibrating in place on his huge pile of pillows, nerves alight with barely contained fury at petted like a housecat.
"It must have taken you a while to tame him," the Duke said smoothly. "But of course if anyone could do it, it would be King Messi himself, yes?"
When Cristiano glanced up at Messi, the little man was sitting on the edge of his throne, gripping the arms, looking like a snake about to strike. His face would probably seem neutral to the untrained eye, but Cristiano could see how furious he was, dark eyes burning fiercely into the Duke.
"Yes," Messi said simply. The Duke gave a slimy smile, then bowed again.
"Your hospitality is much appreciated. I am quite hungry though, so if His Majesty will excuse me?" the Duke asked. Messi gave a short, curt nod, and then the Duke was gone, disappearing into the throng of people. Cristiano glanced toward James quickly - luckily the Duke had gotten waylaid by the other guests and was leaving the boy alone for now.
"Are you all right, my king?" Cristiano asked respectfully. They were in public now, and he'd have to hold his tongue.
Messi didn't answer, just jerked his head toward the hallway and jolted up out of his chair, stalking out of the party. No one tried to stop him or speak to him on the way, perhaps sensing his displeasure, and Cristiano quickly followed behind. As soon as he stepped out of the great hall he was grabbed by a guard and ushered to a private room.
"Sergio," he said to the guard. "Please watch James and the Duke. They shouldn't be alone together."
The guard sighed softly. "I'll do what I can, Cristiano. But I can't stop the Duke from doing anything, only the King can. He wants to see you, now hurry," Sergio said, nudging Cristiano into the empty room and shutting the door behind him. The King was in there - it seemed to be small office of some sort, housing a ancient desk and stacks of books. It was dusty, like no one had used it in a while. Cristiano quickly found himself being grabbed again, this time by Messi instead of a guard, and kissed roughly.
"My king, please," Cristiano said, pulling his head away. "I need to look after James."
"James will be fine. I told the guards to look out for the Duke and keep him away from your puppy," Messi said, pushing Cristiano down onto the desk and shoving his tunic up. He felt his legs being roughly wrenched apart, then the hands retreated as the king fumbled with the laces on his leather breeches.
"Not used to undressing yourself?" Cristiano asked teasingly, but the king gave him a sharp look. Obviously the Duke had put him on edge. Cristiano reached out and helped him, finally getting the laces loose enough to shove the leather down, pushing his underclothes out of the way to free his cock. Now that they were alone, Cristiano let his tongue loosen.
"What happened to the soldier? The one in Roma, who gave you a very vivid image of what he would do to me? I assume he was punished," Cristiano said. Messi looked startled for a moment.
"Where did you hear about that?" he asked sharply.
"James told me. I don't know where he heard it from," Cristiano said smoothly, letting Messi push his legs back. "I hope you weren't too harsh with him. I know how you get when you're jealous."
Leo frowned. "I'm not jealous," he mumbled. He sounded nothing at all like a king when he talked like that, ducking his head and muttering in a sulky tone. "A night in the stocks. I couldn't let him go unpunished."
"What did he describe, hm?" Cristiano asked, gasping when Messi yanked the plug out of him and sat it aside. His legs were guided up, calves resting on the King's shoulders, the diamonds of his anklets glinting in the dim light of the room. "Did he tell you that he'd fuck me just like this? Or did he want me on my hands and knees?"
The king growled in aggravation, spitting into his hand and smearing the saliva onto his cock. Cristiano was slick inside from earlier, stretched open from the plug, but it wasn't really enough, he knew, and Messi's penetration would surely burn. He was proved right when the king pushed inside him roughly, so different from their slow languid lovemaking just that morning, making him grab onto the edges of the desk and hiss at the uncomfortable drag of Messi's cock sinking into him. The king jerked his tunic open to bare his chest, tugging hard at the rings pierced through his nipples, making a jolt of pleasure shoot right down to Cristiano's cock. He'd been half hard all night from the plug in him pressing insistently against his prostate, and Messi seemed determined to wring an orgasm out of him, aiming his cock at that amazing bundle of nerves inside him each time he pushed in. Cristiano's cock grew achingly rigid despite the pain, smacking against his belly as the king fucked into him hard, making the desk creak and scoot across the stone floor just a bit.
He didn't know how long it took, but soon enough he felt a warm flood of come inside him and a hand on his cock, moving rapidly, pumping him until he cried out and came all over his belly. He was sore and tired, laying back on the desk, uncaring of the way it was undoubtedly dirtying his white tunic. A soft whimper escaped him when he felt the plug being pushed back into him, keeping the king's pearly essence from leaking out.
"Go down to the baths and clean up," the king said. When Cristiano glanced up Messi was already dressed, looking as unflappable as ever, only the flush on his cheeks giving away what he had just done. He knew he was pouting, craving a gentle touch after being taken so roughly, but he didn't reach out to his king at all, just nodded silently and tried to straighten his clothes.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he said formally, frowning, refusing to meet Messi's gaze. The King wasn't moving, Cristiano could tell, just standing and staring at him hard enough to make Cristiano's skin prickle. To his surprise, he felt a hand cup his face and he glanced up, startled. Messi leaned in and kissed him softly, stroking his dark curls, and Cristiano couldn't stop himself from melting into it. His arms wound around Messi's shoulders as they kissed - it was chaste, no heat or hunger to it, just the king's lips moving feather-light against his. There was an ache in his chest and tears pricking his eyes when Messi pulled away and stroked his cheek again. The king looked like he wanted to say something for a moment, but eventually he just shook his head and kissed Cristiano on the forehead.
After Messi left, he took a few moments to collect himself, then headed down to the baths.
When he returned to the party, the Duke was nowhere to be seen. Frantically, his eyes searched the room for James. The relief he felt when he found the boy in the corner talking to Antoine was palpable.
"Where did the Duke go?" Cristiano asked when he reached his fellow concubines.
James smiled brightly at him, looking smug, like he knew a secret. Cristiano's cheeks heated up. "I'm not sure. Where did you go, hm?"
"Nowhere," he lied, face surely an impressive shade of red by now. Antoine and James smirked at each other.
"Mmhm, we believe you," Antoine said with a smile. James smirked at him playfully, then pointed toward the throne where Messi was gazing over at him. "The King desires your presence."
Cristiano let out a soft sigh. "I'll see you both later. Stay out of trouble," he warned, but they both just laughed at him, nudging him away.
Messi spoke quietly to him once he was settled back on his pillows next to the throne. "What kept you? You were gone quite a long time."
Cristiano kept his voice low enough that only the King could hear. "Did you miss me?" he asked teasingly, then cleared his throat and spoke in his normal voice. "My apologies, Your Majesty. It won't happen again."
He could see the King force back a smile, turning back to the party. Cristiano yawned behind his hand. He'd gotten very little sleep last night due to nerves, and now that it seemed James was safe from the Duke's advances, he could feel tiredness washing over him like a wave. "Do you mind if I nap? Your guests can admire me when I'm in repose, can't they?"
The King gave him a playfully annoyed look, biting his lip to avoid smiling. He seemed much more relaxed now that he had re-staked his claim on Cristiano. "I'll allow it. Rest for now."
Cristiano yawned. Despite the noise, it didn't take long for him to drift off, and he fell into a light but restful sleep.
It was only a hour or so before he was awoken by a huge commotion in the great hall. Jolting up, he was greeted by the sight of a clearly terrified Neymar, bleeding and bruised, staggering dazedly toward the throne. He jumped up off his pillows and walked over quickly, managing to catch the boy before he fell. The King looked horrified.
"My King, please. Please don't let him hurt me," Neymar whimpered, then fainted in Cristiano's arms.