Gladiator 2, Supernatural RPS, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Title: Gladiator 2( A sequel to Courtesan, Gladiator, Courtesan 2 and The House of Morgan)
Pairing/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2364
Summary: Total AU. Jared faces his toughest opponent ever in a bid to keep Jensen out of the hands of Prince Fallon, but what will be the cost of victory?
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. For starters, I really, really resisted starting this, because I know it's going to get epic...and I need another epic like I need an elephant to sit on me. Still...it wasn't letting go. So things to know: This is a cross between Feudal Japanese society and Roman society. Courtesans are chosen based on time and location of birth and physical characteristics. They are property of the state, but serve the Lords who govern the regions in which they are born. Likewise, gladiators are chosen in much the same way, but with different criteria. They are also property of the state, and serve the Lords who govern the regions where they were born. WARNINGS: Moving forward there will be underage sex. Because of the society in which they live, it isn't seen as wrong. I've hinted at it already, and you won't see it in this chapter, but it's coming.
Art, from apieceofcake...
The crowd roared, but they were only background noise to the cacophony of pain and fury in his body as he dragged himself to his feet. His opponent was down, and this time, Jared aimed to make sure he stayed that way.
His eyes scanned the sand around him for a weapon. There. He dragged his left leg with him as he made for the broken sword sticking out of the sand.
Jensen wasn’t in the stands, but Jared didn’t need to see him to know that the fate of the courtesan was in his hands. The tone of the crowd shifted as Jared’s hand closed around the hilt of the sword. He turned, lifting the blade to find Curnurn pulling himself to his knees.
He didn’t want to kill the big man. It wasn’t meant to be a fight to the death, only until a clear victory was obvious. He was a worthy opponent, a fighter with spirit and a talent with weapons that was nearly unrivaled. Jared spun the blade in his hands and moved in.
He didn’t want to kill him. But he would. If he had to.
Curnurn crawled and Jared followed. He needed to finish this before he could no longer stand. Jared swung the blade and Curnurn reared up, forcing the blade across the base of his throat instead of the shoulder Jared had been aiming for. His mouth fell open in echo of the gaping gash in his skin and blood sprayed over Jared as his opponent slowly fell face first into the sand.
Jared staggered back, wiping blood from his face and trying to stay vertical. He turned to the Lord’s box, as the crowd screamed its pleasure. Lord Jeffrey was pleased, his beaming face leaning over the wall as red roses rained down around Jared.
He dropped the sword and bowed as deeply as he could with the wound in his side. Behind him the doors were opening, boys scurrying out to retrieve weapons and groom the sand. Jared moved toward the doors, hoping he could get inside them before his legs gave way.
“Jared!” Astin was beside him as the dark hid him from view, his arm snaking around Jared’s waist to hold him up.
He wanted to smile for the kid, but it came out more as a grimace as the pain doubled. He wasn’t even sure where all he was injured. The leg was broken, and he was bleeding from his side, chest and shoulder at the very least. It had been a battle unlike any he had faced.
Astin guided him through the dark corridors, through the calls of victory from the other warriors, and into his cell. He helped Jared sit on the bed. “Rest easy, I’ll fetch the surgeon.”
Jared was certain resting wasn’t going to be a problem. The dark was creeping closer and he had so little fight left in him.
Jared started awake, his eyes scanning the faces around him. Astin was white faced against the far wall. The surgeon’s eyes were on his hands, which Jared could feel against his leg, feeling over the fracture. Lord Jeffrey alone seemed happy.
He stood in the doorway watching.
“This will hurt,” the surgeon said, just before he yanked and pressed on Jared’s leg. Jared yelled and grabbed at his straw filled mattress. “There we are. Good as new in a month or two.”
The surgeon sorted through sticks to use as a splint, then wrapped his leg in bandages, checked on the bandages he’d already finished, and nodded to Lord Jeffrey. “That’s the best I can do for now, my Lord. He’ll need to keep them clean, rest. Fluids and good food.”
“Thank you, you may go.”
Jeffrey’s eyes met his. “Impressive victory. Prince Fallon is beside himself over it.”
Jared’s eyes flashed at Astin, then back to Jeffrey. “I did not mean to kill him.”
“He has never lost before today. Killing him was likely the only way to win. Gladiators die Jared. It is a good day when you are not the one bleeding out your life for the crowds.” Jeffrey uncrossed his arms and looked over his shoulder. “Are you up to walking?”
“He has a broken leg, my Lord.” Astin exclaimed, jumping closer to Jared.
Jeffrey looked amused. “I am aware of that young man. I was asking if he is ready to go to his reward.”
Jared frowned at him and pushed up to sitting. “Now? What about dinner and the grand hall and all of that?”
“This is different. I made a wager with my father and I won because you won. My wager keeps Jensen out of Fallon’s hands, but gives you the time Fallon might have spent with him. For as long as Fallon is here, you will be with Jensen. He is waiting now.”
For that, Jared could walk, even though it would hurt. A lot. He lifted the broken leg off the bed and turned to stand. He was nearly naked, but for the bandages and the battle shorts. “Astin, bring me a tunic.”
“You can’t be serious.” Astin’s white face was flushing red. The kid obviously hadn’t learned to hold his tongue around nobility.
“You heard our Lord, Astin. Bring me a tunic.”
Astin turned away, and Jared looked back at Jeffrey. “How long is his Highness visiting, my Lord.”
Jeffrey sighed. “Three days, give or take.”
Astin helped Jared pull the tunic over his head, easing his injured shield arm through the sleeve. His hands were remarkably gentle for a gladiator in training.
Three days. He would have Jensen to himself for three days. “Help me up.”
Astin made grumbling sounds, but did as he was told, supporting Jared’s left side. Jared tested his weight and while it hurt, he could manage. Jeffrey led them out of the cell and through the maze of corridors, out into the late afternoon sunlight.
“This is my aide, Joseph. He will take you to the rooms the courtesan has prepared for you. I must go prepare for the feast.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” Jared called as Jeffrey walked away. Jeffrey raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t even slow down. Jared turned his attention to Joseph. “I guess we’ll follow you.”
Joseph was a tall, thin man, with hair more white than gray and look of distaste on his face. “Come along then.”
He led them down to the alley that ran between the arena and the servant entrances to the Lord’s manor, in through the hallway where the kitchen staff ran food up to the Great Hall, then into a quiet corridor that Jared had never seen. He was leaning more heavily on Astin, his vision swimming with the exertion and the pain.
Finally they came to a stop outside an ornately carved door. Joseph knocked, bowed to Jared and disappeared. It took forever for the door to open. Jared held on to Astin, to the knowledge that Jensen waited for him, that he had three days to spend in the courtesan’s arms.
Jensen’s face appeared in the door, at first expectant and open, then clouding over with concern. “My Lord?”
Jared pulled his arm from around Astin and reached for Jensen. “He’s wounded.” Astin said sternly, re-asserting his gift for the obvious.
Jensen nodded, his eyes skating over Jared’s body with the eyes of a person skilled in the ways of skin and sensation. “I will care for him.”
Jensen lifted Jared’s arm up over his shoulder and eased him into the room. Jared’s knees buckled before the door was even closed. Jensen eased him to the thick carpet. “Easy, my Lord.”
“I won.” Jared said, licking his lips as Jensen disappeared. He felt a moment of panic that eased when Jensen returned with towels over his shoulders and a basin of water.
His smile was genuine as he settled to the floor beside Jared. “So I see.”
“For you. Did it for you.” Jared’s vision was swimming again. He was going to need to sleep soon. No. He needed to concentrate. He was with Jensen. He needed to be with Jensen.
His hands were undressing Jared. He tried to help, only to yell as the pain registered. “Easy. Let me.”
Warm water washed over his skin, removing blood and dirt and sweat. Jensen was methodical, cleaning around bandages and pausing only when he reached Jared’s leather battle shorts. “Can you move to take these off?” Jensen’s voice was gentle, concerned.
Jared nodded, shifting and rocking backwards while Jensen hooked fingers in the waist and pulled them down. He managed Jared’s boots with the same motion, then went back to carefully washing him.
The water was softly scented with rose and the warmth soothed him. Jared laid back on the floor as Jensen moved to his feet. There was something decadent and unbecoming of the way Jensen’s fingers moved over each and every inch of his skin with the diligence of a lover. Jared could forget himself in that touch.
Jared’s next real thought was that something was different. He opened his eyes. He was in a bed, soft and cradling. The sheets were crimson and there were curtains, gauzy red curtains.
Fresh white bandages covered his shoulder and arm and side. The curtain on Jared’s right side stirred, and Jensen was there, sitting beside him. “I thought you might sleep better in the bed, the floor is no place for my lord.”
His fingers moved over Jared’s chest, dancing between scars. “Floor is better than some.” Jared insisted. “Don’t want to sleep.”
Jensen’s smile was beautiful, a little sad. “You must rest, regain your strength.”
Jared closed his eyes and lifted Jensen’s hand to his lips. “Don’t want to waste my time with you on sleep.”
“That is most sweet, my lord, but I would not have you die in the pursuit of pleasure.”
Jared’s heart clenched a little and he sat up suddenly, despite the pain. “You know you’re more than that to me.”
Jensen’s eyes closed and Jared couldn’t breathe. “Jensen?”
“You mustn’t say such things.”
“But it’s true.” Jared said. He tilted Jensen’s face up to his, kissed over his lips tenderly. “You are so much more.” Jensen’s lips opened and his breath was sweet on Jared’s tongue. “So much more.”
His body might have been in pain, but his cock was certainly starting to show interest in the pleasure Jensen offered. Jensen turned his face, pressing a slow kiss into Jared’s palm. His hands moved over the sheet, easing it down to expose Jared’s nakedness.
He was often naked and had long lost all shame that might have once existed, but somehow this was different…somehow his nakedness made him vulnerable as if the loss of his clothing exposed far more than his skin. Jensen’s hands glided over that skin, around his stomach and thighs, and Jared’s cock only filled more, grew harder for being ignored.
Jensen’s lips found his and the touch was feather light, even as his hands guided Jared back to laying against the pillows. His lips slipped over Jared’s chin, down his neck. Like his hands, they danced between scars and bandages, caressing each, worshipping them as though they were precious, as if Jared were Zeus himself…or perhaps Apollo judging on the heat rising now from his skin.
Jared’s eyes closed and the pains receded, lost behind the gentle caress of fingers and lips. Jensen’s tongue traced over Jared’s hip bones, down to the crease where hip met thigh and his hands eased Jared’s legs open, mindful of the bandages and splint on the broken one. He settled there, between Jared’s legs, his eyes rising up to meet Jared’s as he opened his mouth.
Jared held his breath as Jensen slowly lowered himself. Nothing touched his cock until it reached the back of Jensen’s throat, then just as slowly, Jensen’s mouth closed, his lips closing over the skin, the head nestled in the back of his throat.
Jared yelled out loud when he started to suck, slipping ever so slowly up the length, sucking the entire way until he reached the tip. His tongue slid over the head, around and under and over and then his lips closed again, over just the head. Jared moaned and his hips thrust upward. Never in his life had he felt such a thing.
He was going to come already, and they’d only begun. He shook with the effort to control himself, to keep the orgasm at bay. Jensen’s eyes met his and seemed to urge him to let go, to enjoy the moment. The pleasure.
Jensen’s tongue circled around, slid down the underside of his cock, then back up. Jared had certainly had his cock sucked before, in fact just days before, but never with this devotion, this artistry.
“Holy fuck, Jensen.”
Jensen seemed to like that response and did the whole descending over him without touching him thing again, and just as the sucking started, Jared lost whatever sense of control he’d had, coming quick and dirty into Jensen’s mouth.
Jensen licked him clean, then slide up to lie beside him, his lips searching out Jared’s. “There now, is pleasure such a horrible thing?”
It was several minutes before Jared found his voice again. “I’ve never…I mean.” He sighed, not sure how to say what he meant, or why it should be important. “For a gladiator, things are different. Pleasure is…a luxury we can’t afford. We deal with our bodies needs. Fast, efficient. There is nothing of gentle or discreet.”
Jensen’s finger traced over scars on his chest. “All the more reason for you to enjoy this time we have, my lord.”
Jared lifted up to look at him. “Oh, I enjoy every moment I can spend in your company, Jensen. Here, or with you watching me from the Lord’s box, or even while you entertain in the Hall. Every moment is like a lifetime.”
Jensen’s smile was soft and his eyes danced. “Then, my lord, we have many lifetimes in which to explore. Lay with me a while, my lord, and tell me of your victory.”
Title: Gladiator 2( A sequel to Courtesan, Gladiator, Courtesan 2 and The House of Morgan)
Pairing/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2364
Summary: Total AU. Jared faces his toughest opponent ever in a bid to keep Jensen out of the hands of Prince Fallon, but what will be the cost of victory?
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. For starters, I really, really resisted starting this, because I know it's going to get epic...and I need another epic like I need an elephant to sit on me. Still...it wasn't letting go. So things to know: This is a cross between Feudal Japanese society and Roman society. Courtesans are chosen based on time and location of birth and physical characteristics. They are property of the state, but serve the Lords who govern the regions in which they are born. Likewise, gladiators are chosen in much the same way, but with different criteria. They are also property of the state, and serve the Lords who govern the regions where they were born. WARNINGS: Moving forward there will be underage sex. Because of the society in which they live, it isn't seen as wrong. I've hinted at it already, and you won't see it in this chapter, but it's coming.
Art, from apieceofcake...
The crowd roared, but they were only background noise to the cacophony of pain and fury in his body as he dragged himself to his feet. His opponent was down, and this time, Jared aimed to make sure he stayed that way.
His eyes scanned the sand around him for a weapon. There. He dragged his left leg with him as he made for the broken sword sticking out of the sand.
Jensen wasn’t in the stands, but Jared didn’t need to see him to know that the fate of the courtesan was in his hands. The tone of the crowd shifted as Jared’s hand closed around the hilt of the sword. He turned, lifting the blade to find Curnurn pulling himself to his knees.
He didn’t want to kill the big man. It wasn’t meant to be a fight to the death, only until a clear victory was obvious. He was a worthy opponent, a fighter with spirit and a talent with weapons that was nearly unrivaled. Jared spun the blade in his hands and moved in.
He didn’t want to kill him. But he would. If he had to.
Curnurn crawled and Jared followed. He needed to finish this before he could no longer stand. Jared swung the blade and Curnurn reared up, forcing the blade across the base of his throat instead of the shoulder Jared had been aiming for. His mouth fell open in echo of the gaping gash in his skin and blood sprayed over Jared as his opponent slowly fell face first into the sand.
Jared staggered back, wiping blood from his face and trying to stay vertical. He turned to the Lord’s box, as the crowd screamed its pleasure. Lord Jeffrey was pleased, his beaming face leaning over the wall as red roses rained down around Jared.
He dropped the sword and bowed as deeply as he could with the wound in his side. Behind him the doors were opening, boys scurrying out to retrieve weapons and groom the sand. Jared moved toward the doors, hoping he could get inside them before his legs gave way.
“Jared!” Astin was beside him as the dark hid him from view, his arm snaking around Jared’s waist to hold him up.
He wanted to smile for the kid, but it came out more as a grimace as the pain doubled. He wasn’t even sure where all he was injured. The leg was broken, and he was bleeding from his side, chest and shoulder at the very least. It had been a battle unlike any he had faced.
Astin guided him through the dark corridors, through the calls of victory from the other warriors, and into his cell. He helped Jared sit on the bed. “Rest easy, I’ll fetch the surgeon.”
Jared was certain resting wasn’t going to be a problem. The dark was creeping closer and he had so little fight left in him.
Jared started awake, his eyes scanning the faces around him. Astin was white faced against the far wall. The surgeon’s eyes were on his hands, which Jared could feel against his leg, feeling over the fracture. Lord Jeffrey alone seemed happy.
He stood in the doorway watching.
“This will hurt,” the surgeon said, just before he yanked and pressed on Jared’s leg. Jared yelled and grabbed at his straw filled mattress. “There we are. Good as new in a month or two.”
The surgeon sorted through sticks to use as a splint, then wrapped his leg in bandages, checked on the bandages he’d already finished, and nodded to Lord Jeffrey. “That’s the best I can do for now, my Lord. He’ll need to keep them clean, rest. Fluids and good food.”
“Thank you, you may go.”
Jeffrey’s eyes met his. “Impressive victory. Prince Fallon is beside himself over it.”
Jared’s eyes flashed at Astin, then back to Jeffrey. “I did not mean to kill him.”
“He has never lost before today. Killing him was likely the only way to win. Gladiators die Jared. It is a good day when you are not the one bleeding out your life for the crowds.” Jeffrey uncrossed his arms and looked over his shoulder. “Are you up to walking?”
“He has a broken leg, my Lord.” Astin exclaimed, jumping closer to Jared.
Jeffrey looked amused. “I am aware of that young man. I was asking if he is ready to go to his reward.”
Jared frowned at him and pushed up to sitting. “Now? What about dinner and the grand hall and all of that?”
“This is different. I made a wager with my father and I won because you won. My wager keeps Jensen out of Fallon’s hands, but gives you the time Fallon might have spent with him. For as long as Fallon is here, you will be with Jensen. He is waiting now.”
For that, Jared could walk, even though it would hurt. A lot. He lifted the broken leg off the bed and turned to stand. He was nearly naked, but for the bandages and the battle shorts. “Astin, bring me a tunic.”
“You can’t be serious.” Astin’s white face was flushing red. The kid obviously hadn’t learned to hold his tongue around nobility.
“You heard our Lord, Astin. Bring me a tunic.”
Astin turned away, and Jared looked back at Jeffrey. “How long is his Highness visiting, my Lord.”
Jeffrey sighed. “Three days, give or take.”
Astin helped Jared pull the tunic over his head, easing his injured shield arm through the sleeve. His hands were remarkably gentle for a gladiator in training.
Three days. He would have Jensen to himself for three days. “Help me up.”
Astin made grumbling sounds, but did as he was told, supporting Jared’s left side. Jared tested his weight and while it hurt, he could manage. Jeffrey led them out of the cell and through the maze of corridors, out into the late afternoon sunlight.
“This is my aide, Joseph. He will take you to the rooms the courtesan has prepared for you. I must go prepare for the feast.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” Jared called as Jeffrey walked away. Jeffrey raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t even slow down. Jared turned his attention to Joseph. “I guess we’ll follow you.”
Joseph was a tall, thin man, with hair more white than gray and look of distaste on his face. “Come along then.”
He led them down to the alley that ran between the arena and the servant entrances to the Lord’s manor, in through the hallway where the kitchen staff ran food up to the Great Hall, then into a quiet corridor that Jared had never seen. He was leaning more heavily on Astin, his vision swimming with the exertion and the pain.
Finally they came to a stop outside an ornately carved door. Joseph knocked, bowed to Jared and disappeared. It took forever for the door to open. Jared held on to Astin, to the knowledge that Jensen waited for him, that he had three days to spend in the courtesan’s arms.
Jensen’s face appeared in the door, at first expectant and open, then clouding over with concern. “My Lord?”
Jared pulled his arm from around Astin and reached for Jensen. “He’s wounded.” Astin said sternly, re-asserting his gift for the obvious.
Jensen nodded, his eyes skating over Jared’s body with the eyes of a person skilled in the ways of skin and sensation. “I will care for him.”
Jensen lifted Jared’s arm up over his shoulder and eased him into the room. Jared’s knees buckled before the door was even closed. Jensen eased him to the thick carpet. “Easy, my Lord.”
“I won.” Jared said, licking his lips as Jensen disappeared. He felt a moment of panic that eased when Jensen returned with towels over his shoulders and a basin of water.
His smile was genuine as he settled to the floor beside Jared. “So I see.”
“For you. Did it for you.” Jared’s vision was swimming again. He was going to need to sleep soon. No. He needed to concentrate. He was with Jensen. He needed to be with Jensen.
His hands were undressing Jared. He tried to help, only to yell as the pain registered. “Easy. Let me.”
Warm water washed over his skin, removing blood and dirt and sweat. Jensen was methodical, cleaning around bandages and pausing only when he reached Jared’s leather battle shorts. “Can you move to take these off?” Jensen’s voice was gentle, concerned.
Jared nodded, shifting and rocking backwards while Jensen hooked fingers in the waist and pulled them down. He managed Jared’s boots with the same motion, then went back to carefully washing him.
The water was softly scented with rose and the warmth soothed him. Jared laid back on the floor as Jensen moved to his feet. There was something decadent and unbecoming of the way Jensen’s fingers moved over each and every inch of his skin with the diligence of a lover. Jared could forget himself in that touch.
Jared’s next real thought was that something was different. He opened his eyes. He was in a bed, soft and cradling. The sheets were crimson and there were curtains, gauzy red curtains.
Fresh white bandages covered his shoulder and arm and side. The curtain on Jared’s right side stirred, and Jensen was there, sitting beside him. “I thought you might sleep better in the bed, the floor is no place for my lord.”
His fingers moved over Jared’s chest, dancing between scars. “Floor is better than some.” Jared insisted. “Don’t want to sleep.”
Jensen’s smile was beautiful, a little sad. “You must rest, regain your strength.”
Jared closed his eyes and lifted Jensen’s hand to his lips. “Don’t want to waste my time with you on sleep.”
“That is most sweet, my lord, but I would not have you die in the pursuit of pleasure.”
Jared’s heart clenched a little and he sat up suddenly, despite the pain. “You know you’re more than that to me.”
Jensen’s eyes closed and Jared couldn’t breathe. “Jensen?”
“You mustn’t say such things.”
“But it’s true.” Jared said. He tilted Jensen’s face up to his, kissed over his lips tenderly. “You are so much more.” Jensen’s lips opened and his breath was sweet on Jared’s tongue. “So much more.”
His body might have been in pain, but his cock was certainly starting to show interest in the pleasure Jensen offered. Jensen turned his face, pressing a slow kiss into Jared’s palm. His hands moved over the sheet, easing it down to expose Jared’s nakedness.
He was often naked and had long lost all shame that might have once existed, but somehow this was different…somehow his nakedness made him vulnerable as if the loss of his clothing exposed far more than his skin. Jensen’s hands glided over that skin, around his stomach and thighs, and Jared’s cock only filled more, grew harder for being ignored.
Jensen’s lips found his and the touch was feather light, even as his hands guided Jared back to laying against the pillows. His lips slipped over Jared’s chin, down his neck. Like his hands, they danced between scars and bandages, caressing each, worshipping them as though they were precious, as if Jared were Zeus himself…or perhaps Apollo judging on the heat rising now from his skin.
Jared’s eyes closed and the pains receded, lost behind the gentle caress of fingers and lips. Jensen’s tongue traced over Jared’s hip bones, down to the crease where hip met thigh and his hands eased Jared’s legs open, mindful of the bandages and splint on the broken one. He settled there, between Jared’s legs, his eyes rising up to meet Jared’s as he opened his mouth.
Jared held his breath as Jensen slowly lowered himself. Nothing touched his cock until it reached the back of Jensen’s throat, then just as slowly, Jensen’s mouth closed, his lips closing over the skin, the head nestled in the back of his throat.
Jared yelled out loud when he started to suck, slipping ever so slowly up the length, sucking the entire way until he reached the tip. His tongue slid over the head, around and under and over and then his lips closed again, over just the head. Jared moaned and his hips thrust upward. Never in his life had he felt such a thing.
He was going to come already, and they’d only begun. He shook with the effort to control himself, to keep the orgasm at bay. Jensen’s eyes met his and seemed to urge him to let go, to enjoy the moment. The pleasure.
Jensen’s tongue circled around, slid down the underside of his cock, then back up. Jared had certainly had his cock sucked before, in fact just days before, but never with this devotion, this artistry.
“Holy fuck, Jensen.”
Jensen seemed to like that response and did the whole descending over him without touching him thing again, and just as the sucking started, Jared lost whatever sense of control he’d had, coming quick and dirty into Jensen’s mouth.
Jensen licked him clean, then slide up to lie beside him, his lips searching out Jared’s. “There now, is pleasure such a horrible thing?”
It was several minutes before Jared found his voice again. “I’ve never…I mean.” He sighed, not sure how to say what he meant, or why it should be important. “For a gladiator, things are different. Pleasure is…a luxury we can’t afford. We deal with our bodies needs. Fast, efficient. There is nothing of gentle or discreet.”
Jensen’s finger traced over scars on his chest. “All the more reason for you to enjoy this time we have, my lord.”
Jared lifted up to look at him. “Oh, I enjoy every moment I can spend in your company, Jensen. Here, or with you watching me from the Lord’s box, or even while you entertain in the Hall. Every moment is like a lifetime.”
Jensen’s smile was soft and his eyes danced. “Then, my lord, we have many lifetimes in which to explore. Lay with me a while, my lord, and tell me of your victory.”