"Hawk and Eagle"
by Beryll
Being in the service of Sir Sean had proven much less terrible than Ewan had first expected after the English knight had captured and basically abducted him that rainy night up in north England.
All in all Ewan had tried to escape only two times. Once the next day, trying to dash away into the underbrush when Sir Sean and his men had started on their way back to London. That had resulted in the whole company going after him, very much enjoying the chase. He had been hunted down, bound and delivered back at the hooves of Sir Sean's horse within an hour.
The rest of the journey he had spent with his hands tied and leashed to Sir Sean's horse. It had been a long walk. At least Sir Sean had untied him in the evenings.
Ewan had then thought the English knight only did that to have him take care of the duties of a Squire, like caring for the knight's steed, cleaning his weapons and preparing meals. Later he had realized that it had been that but simple kindness as well. For essentially the English knight was a good man and a remarkably fair master.
That he had realized when he tried to run the second time. They had been back at Sir Sean's city house in London by then and the knight had been busy with the many duties which had heaped on his desk while he had been away. Unwatched and not locked up Ewan had used the opportunity to get away, escaping into the city.
He had spent a day and a night in the streets of London, trying to find a means of returning to his home. Not that he was so fond of his home. Living in a small Highland village where you never knew if you would have food enough to survive the next winter was not exactly a promising prospect. But he was a Scotsman so reason needed time to penetrate his thick skull.
Being mugged by some street thugs who thought he might have money - which he of course didn't - and then being saved by some guards had helped a lot. The conclusion that - just maybe - he would be better off with his English knight than he could ever have been at home had been unpleasant but not really ignorable. So he had asked the guards to kindly deliver him back to his master.
He had expected a beating or worse from Sir Sean.
Instead he had found his knight deeply worried and quite grateful for Ewan's unharmed return.
Since then he had learned a lot of things. Fighting, manners, a first inkling of politics and most importantly - that Sir Sean had a kind heart and to win his affection was not very difficult.
Especially as Ewan was quite willing to provide 'different' services than those expected of a Squire now and then. His knight was a great fuck and Ewan was a healthy and curious young man. Of course he didn't mind a thorough education in that department as well.
Almost a year had passed since their first encounter and Ewan had not only gotten used to Sir Sean, he liked him very much, loved him even in a way, like one loves a favorite uncle.
So right at this moment Ewan was much more worried about his knight than he was afraid for his own well being. He was quite confident that he was able to wiggle out of any tight situation with his mix of charming innocence and lack of conscience. But to see Sir Sean dragged off shouting and struggling to an unknown fate - that had set him on edge.
Still he tried to pay as much attention to the way he was led. After all it would be important to know the place if he was ever hoping to escape it. It wasn't very difficult as the he followed the guards peacefully and therefore only received a shove in the right direction now and then and apart from that had all the time in the world to check out the fortress they had been brought to. Everything seemed rather well organized and the guards looked like they were following an established routine. Places like this had always worked to Ewan's advantage in the past. Routine meant that when everything looked all right nobody checked twice.
When they were walking along a corridor with high narrow windows overlooking an inner yard he caught a glimpse of the guards who had dragged his knight away. They were just emerging from a doorway, one of them was nursing his bleeding nose. So that was where they had taken Sir Sean. Ewan marked the spot on his mental map carefully.
As of yet he had no plan on how to get them out of this mess but he was sure that an opportunity would present itself as soon as he reached his destination.
He didn't have to wait much longer. At the end of the corridor the guards politely knocked at the last door. For a moment nothing happened but then a voice answered inside in the strange language of the Saracen and the guards opened the door, pushing Ewan inside.
The man waiting inside wore the same garb as the guards, only with more decorations, making Ewan conclude that it must be some kind of commander. His observations were cut short as he was quickly shoved to his knees. So this obviously was some kind of important person.
Some words were exchanged in Saracen, then the guards left, leaving Ewan alone with their commander. For a moment there was only silence as the Saracen probably took his time to study Ewan. Then the man addressed Ewan, still speaking Saracen, which Ewan still didn't understand a single word of.
Acting on instinct Ewan looked up at the man, trying to gauge what it might be he wanted of Ewan and how best to please him so much he wouldn't realize Ewan was just waiting for an opening to escape.
The Saracen stepped closer, taking Ewan's chin in a surprisingly gentle grasp and turned the young Scotsman's face from side to side, obviously examining him. From his expression Ewan concluded that he liked what he saw. Little wonder considering the fact that with his red hair and rather fair face he must look incredibly exotic to a Saracen. And the man wasn't even bad looking himself. Powerfully build, tall, with a carefully groomed beard and black hair that came down to his shoulders, his armor tailored to his body he was an attractive man. Pressing his advantage Ewan put on the shy and cute smile that had won over a great many hearts to his favor.
The commander blinked at him, so obviously caught off guard by this gesture of trust that Ewan had to fight hard to keep the rather dirty smirk off his face. This would be child's play. To get what he wanted from a man who wanted him couldn't be that hard. Granted - it had backfired with Sir Sean but in the end being a squire was quite fine with Ewan so he had still won.
Again the Saracen talked to him in his strangely musical voice, looking at him questioningly. Ewan shook his head slowly, making sure his lack of comprehension was easily read on his face. "I don't understand." he explained in English.
Now it was the Saracen's turn to furrow his brow. He tried Spanish next, probably repeating his question.
Ewan had managed to pick up a few curses in Spanish since they had come to this country but none of those words were present in the Saracen's question. Again he shook his head. "I don't understand." he repeated, trying to sound as meek as possible.
Their lack of understanding each other didn't seem to bother the Saracen overly much as his fingers traced Ewan's jaw, their touch still surprisingly gently. And with this caress and the appreciative way the commander eyed Ewan there really was not much more to be said anyway, Ewan thought with dry amusement.
He leaned into the man's touch, rubbing his cheek against the callused fingers like a big cat. That brought a decidedly seedy smirk to the Saracen's face as he now too realized that in the important things sometimes language wasn't that important.
The guards had not deemed it necessary to bind Ewan so he now raised his hands to place them on the hips of the man looming above him, pleased by the fact that he could feel firm muscles under the fabric of the Saracen's robes.
Looking amused by his captive's boldness the commander did not move as Ewan's curious fingers traced hard body in its shell of cloth, caressing thighs, stomach and even reach up to the chest. The Saracen's hand still lingered on Ewan's cheek, his thumb stroking him absentmindedly.
When Ewan looked up at the man again, the amusement had given way to the first glowing embers of passion lighting the dark eyes. The Saracen looked alien, dangerous and extremely arousing to Ewan.
With a soft purr he leaned forward to rub his cheek against the man's thigh, breathing in the strong scent of man.
That provoked the Saracen into action again. With a hungry growl he grabbed Ewan by the neck, pulling him to his feet. A second later the squire found himself crushed against the much stronger man, his mouth ruthlessly plundered, the tongue of the Saracen invading him, his breath being sucked from his lungs as he moaned in undeniable pleasure.
When the commander finally let go of Ewan, the young Scotsman was panting, his body feeling like it was rapidly catching fire, his lips tingling where the Saracen's beard has pricked them. Of course he was only doing this to gain the Saracen's trust, Ewan thought, licking his lips hungrily, but there was absolutely no reason why not to enjoy it as well.
His thoughts were cut short as the commander grabbed him yet again, this time hauling him up over his shoulder and swiftly carrying him through the suite of rooms that seemed to serve as much as headquarter as living space from what Ewan could make out from his position.
Moments later he was deposited on a large bed in another room and before he could catch his breath the Saracen was on him again, pressing him back onto the bed, his lips finding Ewan's again. With a groan of agreement Ewan stretched underneath the warrior, arching into him, his mouth opening to the Saracen's renewed assault.
Quickly deciding that careful seduction was definitely not required, Ewan threw all clever planning over board and started tearing at the Saracen's robes to get his hands onto naked skin. The commander seemed to agree wholeheartedly as he worked just as hard to free Ewan from any confining clothes and with their joint effort it didn't take them long till they were rubbing against each other as naked as their respective gods had created them.
For a while it was just urgent groping and rolling in the sheets but then the Saracen held Ewan down onto the bed with a gently restraining hand and sat up beside him, gazing down at Ewan with such honest admiration that the young Scot couldn't resist stretching again, showing off his body.
The Saracen grinned, his teeth showing brilliant white in his tanned face. He leaned down again, slowly licking along Ewan's throat, making him shudder with rising passion. Then he slowly kissed his way down Ewan's chest and stomach till he arrived at his cock which by now was rock hard and quite eager for the attention.
Ewan was reduced to moaning and whimpering as the Saracen sucked and licked him. For a heartbeat he wondered if just maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to forget all about his knight and instead start a new career as this Saracen's bed toy. But then loyalty won over greed and he just silently swore to himself that he would use every single opportunity to remind Sir Sean of what he had given up for him.
When the man finally let go of him, Ewan reacted with a disappointed groan, his hips pushing upward to find more contact with that delicious hot wet mouth. The Saracen laughed throatily, whispering something to Ewan in his language that could have been endearment or taunt. Ewan didn't care. He just wanted more.
He didn't hesitate even a split second when the Saracen deftly spread his legs, kneeling between them, but opened up for the other man most willingly. Especially when he watched with hungry eyes how the man liberally coated his fingers with oil from a small vial before smearing the quickly warming liquid all over Ewan's ass, paying special attention to his waiting hole. Ewan couldn't help squirming impatiently, his ass clenching in anticipation of what hopefully invade it soon.
He relaxed back onto the bed, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of those fingers teasing him, making him squirm with need, seeking to invite the Saracen in. He hissed in pleasure when one finger entered him, fully pushing inside when it was met with no resistance.
The Saracen grinned down at Ewan, obviously delighted at the eager squire writhing on his bed. Slowly he fucked Ewan first with one, then with two fingers. And Ewan was sure it wasn't the first time the commander had some happy boy in this position for he was quite skilled at what he was doing, brushing all the right places inside the Scot.
But he wanted more, needed to feel the hard cock of the Saracen to thrust into him fast and deep. Arching his back he offered his ass even more, begging the commander to fuck him in earnest, his English now muddled with his Scottish accent, probably even less decipherable to the Saracen. But it didn't matter as he understood Ewan's body language perfectly.
He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the blunt tip of his cock, nudging Ewan's opening teasingly. Again Ewan begged him softly, his eyes half closed, watching the deeply tanned, muscular man looming above him with open hunger.
Then he cried out in pleasure and sweet pain as the Saracen entered him in one long, smooth thrust, burying himself up to his balls. And Ewan even met his thrust, trying to open up more, trying to impale himself even further, his ass clenching on the rigid cock inside of him, massaging him, making the Saracen groan in delight.
For a moment they just stared at each other, dark eyes meeting green ones, unmoving except for Ewan's muscles gripping and releasing the Saracen with a will of their own.
Then the Saracen withdrew till only the tip of his cock was still inside Ewan only to push back in immediately, setting a slow, intoxicating rhythm. And he kept his gaze locked with Ewan's all the time, making the young Scot feel like he was invaded not just but in body but in soul as well.
He didn't care.
Didn't give a fuck, so to speak.
He moaned happily, writhing with every move of the man above him, enjoying the ride to its fullest extent.
He couldn't have said how long it took. It felt like it was hours, the Saracen fucking him unhurriedly, languidly, resting when either of them was growing to excited, taking Ewan hard and fast when the heat grew and slowly and sensually when it pleased him.
It came almost as a surprise to Ewan when the other man finally wrapped his hand around Ewan's cock, stroking him firmly. But apart from that he remained motionless, leaving it to Ewan to fuck himself on the hard cock buried deep inside him, forcing the young Scot to massage him with his clenching ass, slowly but inexorably bringing both of them closer to the edge.
And Ewan obliged most happily, closing his eyes tightly and impaling himself again and again, feeling his own balls grow taunt, feeling his body heat up more and more till he reached boiling point. Till he came with a howl of pleasure, his senses completely overwhelmed.
When he slowly came back to reality, the Saracen had already rolled off him, lying on his back next to Ewan, still panting slightly, a huge grin plastered all over his face. Obviously he had enjoyed the ride just as much as Ewan.
Not hesitating a second Ewan snuggled against him, kissing first the other man's shoulder, then his jaw. The Saracen drew him into a tender embrace and Ewan relaxed against him, sighing happily. He was tired after everything that had happened in the time since he and Sir Sean had been captured and his eyes were slowly drifting shut.
Of course he didn't really have the time to sleep, but he told himself that he couldn't do anything as long as the Saracen was awake anyway. So he allowed himself to cuddle even closer to the massive body next to him, easily convincing himself that a small nap wouldn't hurt.
And when the Saracen was soundly asleep he would pick up the commander's robes for Sir Sean and find a disguise for himself. And then he would go and save his knight.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
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