Page 26 of Over the Emerald Valley
“This is no trap. I’ve been thinking…” Temaj’s hand stopped its wandering, lying warmly on Solon’s stomach.
“Uh-oh. Gods save us all. Pray tell. What have you been thinking?”
“Well, your hang-up seems to revolve around your belief that you have all the power in the situation, whereas I have none.”
“Which I’m coming to realize is clearly not true.”
“Yes, but only because you’ve allowed it to be so. You could certainly order me around if you wanted, and I would do as you say. But it’s obvious that sort of behavior would be abhorrent to you. Since we can dismiss that scenario, it is I who holds the power. So should I turn you down if you change your mind? If you decide you want me? Should I say no because I hold more sway over the proceedings?”
Solon followed this twisted logic but only barely. “This is convoluted for bed play. What’s your point?”
“How about this angle? If I am a slave, how are you not one?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I do what I’m told, and in return, I’m paid—more handsomely than you, I might add,” he said with a pointed stare at the heavily jeweled collar that lay on the dresser.
Solon thought of the beer and grain he received for his services, of the modest plot of land he’d be granted upon retirement. That jeweled collar could purchase his life’s wages ten times over.
“You also do what you’re told, and in return, you receive, what? The usual? Grain, seed, drink? I have no idea what the pharaoh pays his soldiers.”
“You’ve got the gist of it,” said Solon as he began to understand where all this talk was headed.
“Well then, the difference is that my job is pleasant, easy, and not dangerous, while yours is dirty, hot, and full of perils. I don’t see where you get off thinking my position is the less powerful of the two. That I am a slave, but you are not.”
Solon was coming around to Temaj’s point, but still he resisted. “I am free to leave, for one.”
“Are you?” Temaj fluttered his kohl-darkened lashes. “Didn’t the pharaoh order you here for some purpose? Taxes or whatnot? Can you really just choose to leave without fulfilling that role? And if you did, can you go anywhere you like? Nubia perhaps? Or must you report straight back to Horemheb? Because the way I see it, you’re not as free as you think you are.”
Stunned into silence, Solon processed this lecture one thought at a time. It was true; he worked and was paid, Temaj worked and was paid. It was equally obvious whose payment had the most value, and it wasn’t Solon’s. And though Solon certainly felt like a free man, was he? He did have a task to accomplish and orders to return when it was done, but he’d chosen this life.
But Temaj? Was he ever given a choice?
“So may I touch you?” Temaj returned to the original inquiry, fingers caressing the trail of hair that led to his intended destination.
Solon couldn’t see why not, but… “All this thinking has…well, you won’t find me as ready as you did upon waking.”
Laughter vibrated from where Temaj had effectively pinned him to the bed. “That will take me all of thirty seconds to change once you say yes, but I need you to say it. May I?”
Argument and counterpoint flew from Solon’s mind. Temaj had neatly refuted his every reason anyway. And Solon wanted it. Gods, he wanted it.
Osiris, judge me lightly.
“Yes.”
Solon expected Temaj to waste no time, to grab his cock and stroke it back to hardness, to suck his climax from him like a whirlpool, but none of that happened.
Instead, warm lips pressed a sweet kiss to his chest. Soft honey-blond hair tickled his throat as Temaj laid his head where he’d kissed. The hand on his stomach hugged his waist as Temaj snuggled even closer, pressing them together with a contented sigh.
“How do you like it?” asked Temaj, voice smooth as velvet.
Mouth frozen open, Solon dumbly remained mute. How did one answer such a question? He was saved from stuttering a response as Temaj went on.
“Hard and fast? Sloppy and wet? Slow and sweet?” Temaj adjusted his legs so his cock nudged Solon’s thigh. “A long, tight stroke from base to crown or smaller caresses, perhaps teasing your slit?”
Solon licked his lips. There were no bad options.
“I bet you like your balls sucked. Oh, you do, don’t you? I felt your muscles flutter as I suggested it.” Temaj hooked his calf over Solon’s, then drew it wider, opening his thighs. But still, Temaj’s hand remained motionless on Solon’s side.
