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Rage Regret & Redemption	By : Liliana Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 10162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 5
Please note that the disclaimer, pairing and warnings for this story are given at the begining of the first chapter.
CHAPTER FOUR:
Paris watched, mesmerized, as Achilles dipped his fingers into the bowl. He saw them lift up again, coated and dripping with oil that glistened under the soft light cast by the fire burning in the brazier at the center of the yurt.
The sight caused a slight knot of apprehension to settle in his stomach, though it did nothing to scale back the desire raging through his veins. He had some idea of what was about to happen, for he had heard tell of the basics that entailed the joining between two males, but his reaction had always been one of puzzled disgust. Why would anyone submit to such an act?. What pleasure could possibly be found in it?.
But now, he was begining to understand. Achilles' mouth, his scent, the feel of him, were all so different from that of a female, potent and intoxicating in a way that called out to the deepest essense of his own maleness, in raw kinship.
" Lift your legs and bend them back. Let me see you fully, Paris."
The words broke through his musings and Paris looked up at the Greek in confusion. Comprehension came but an instant later, when Achilles moved his free hand to gently push at one of his legs. The young Trojan could not help the deep blush that suffused his cheeks, as he complied with the hinted motion. The position left him completely exposed and vulnerable before the other's eyes, yet it was that very vulnerability that sent a thrilling shockwave through Paris' being. Never, had he let anyone see him thus. He was a prince of Troy and even in the bedchamber, he had not set aside his royal station. It was strange, how suddently things could change. For here he was, letting this mighty warrior, this male warrior, gaze upon the very core of him...
Achilles could read every play of emotion that flitted across the prince's face. He smiled gently, remembering a time, long ago, when he had been at the cusp of his own manhood and laid displayed in just such a way before his first male lover. Aye, Achilles understood completely what the other was feeling.
" You are beautiful, Paris. The sight of you like this...is beautiful." He reassured.
" Achilles... I..."
" Shhh... Do not fret, my prince. For I promise you pleasure, unlike any you have ever known."
As he spoke, Achilles brought one of his oiled fingers to the unbreached entrance that was all the more enticing for it's virginity. Paris tensed at the touch, flinching in spite of himself, but the Greek only let that finger rest upon it, as he continued to speak in a soft, sensual tone.
" Your willingness is a gift that fills me with tenderness, even as your body rouses my loins in a way I have not felt for many years."
Achilles began to rub against the tiny hole in a slow, circular motion, making the nerves wreathing it gently spasm in response. The feeling was like a low hum of pleasure and Paris found himself relaxing into it, as a dreamy smile curved his lips. That smile soon gave way to a quiet moan, when the oiled digit finally slid inside.
And there it was, the very first breaching of the prince of Troy.
Achilles gently moved his finger in and out, letting the young Trojan become accustomed to this new sensation. Then, very slowly, he worked in another. The slight stretching was in no way uncomfortable, but Paris felt a returning echo of his earlier apprehension, as the awakened nerves at his entrance began to foretell what was to come. It was at this point that Achilles crooked those two fingers inside him.
And Paris saw stars...
All the jolts of pleasure he had felt up until this point, were as nothing compared to the white heat that now enveloped him. For one incredible moment, everything around him simply ceased to exist and he became the perfect summation of bliss. Without cognizant will, Paris bore down onto the source of this wonder, seeking to further impale himself. The mighty Greek let him do so, his eyes smouldering as he watched the prince ride his warrior's hand.
A hand that was feared upon the field of battle.. A hand that had cut short the life of the eldest prince of Troy.. A hand that was now lovingly claiming the virginity of the youngest...
But no such thoughts encumbered the mind of Paris. He was lost, only knowing that he wanted more, needed more...no matter if it hurt. A third finger slid inside him, giving him a bit of that pain, yet immediately superceeding it with another blast of white-hot pleasure. Achilles began to scissor the triad, gently widening the tight pink passage as much as he could. He knew that he would have to be very carefull, for to do otherwise, would bring agony to ruin the blissful expression on the prince's face.
Such a beautiful face...
That lush nouth, the aquiline nose, those sculpted cheekbones, all framed by tumbling dark tresses... Achilles' eyes travelled downwards to behold the smooth chest, the taut stomach and the tantalizing trail of the faintest hair, that led to a slim, straight shaft. These things became treasures, his treasures...his.
And so he spent a great deal of time preparing Paris for their joining, using his free hand to drizzle more of the fragrant oil over his labors, as his lips continued to utter sensual words of encouragement.
At last, Achilles judged the prince to be ready. He withdrew his fingers, smiling as he saw Paris' eyes open with a dissapointed groan. He quickly dipped his hand back into the bowl of oil, then brought it to his own aching hardness, making sure to generously cover all of it with a glistening coat. His sky-blue eyes then sought those of his soon-to-be lover.
" Do you truly want this Paris?. Are you ready for me?." He asked, quietly.
Liquid brown eyes, soft and needful, looked back at him.
" Yes, Achilles. Make me yours..."
That whispered answer took away the very last vestiges of doubt that had been lurking in the Greek's mind and he began to gather the many cushions on the bed. He knew that positioning Paris onto his hands and knees would be easier, but he sensed that the prince needed the intimacy that could only come from being face to face. So instead, Achilles used some of those cushions to prop the young Trojan so that he would not be flat on his back, then he placed two others right beneath Paris' hips, elevating them in a tantalizing way. Then, finally, he draped one of Paris' legs over his own shoulder, before positioning himself at the waiting entrance.
Their gazes locked. And Achilles gently pushed the tip of his cock inside.
Even with the aid of the oil, there was considerable pain. Paris began to tense from it, his brow furrowing as he looked beseechingly up at the Greek.
" Breathe easy, my beautiful one. This pain will soon fade. Let yourself open to me.." Achilles reassured.
The soft, caring words had the desired effect. Paris let out a calming sigh, willing himself to relax, to place his trust fully on his experienced bed-partner. Achilles sensed the tension leave his young lover and in that breath, slid his shaft the rest of the way inside. There, he stopped, though his every instinct urged him to move, to pound into that exquisite tightness until he was fully spent. But some vital part of his heart had been ensnared by this Trojan prince and now it had become about more than giving and taking pleasure, it had become about...
Achilles tore his mind away from what might lay at the end of that train of thought, forcing himself back to the moment at hand. He placed a soft kiss on the inside of the knee that lay over his shoulder and them reached between them to grasp at the slim shaft, which had begun to soften in response to Paris' discomfort. He then lovingly began to stroke it back to full hardness.
The renewed pleasure that action brought soothed the pain away, until all Paris felt was a sensual fullness inside of him that seemed to accentuate every touch from the warrior's hand. Soon, the prince found himself once again wanting...more.
Upon seeing those dark eyes glazing over, Achilles withdrew his shaft a ways, before gently sliding it back in again. Once, twice, he did this and then, on the third thrust, he changed the angle slightly. Paris threw his head back, as the white heat coursed through his body.
" Achilles!... Achilles!... Aaaaahh!!..."
The cry tore from his throat and his hands reached blindly for those thrusting hips, digging pleadingly into the sculpted flesh. Achilles complied, setting a steady rythm that had them both closing their eyes as they began to be carried away by the pleasure of their joining.
" Oh, Paris...so tight...by the...Gods... So tight!..."
" So good...so...good...inside..."
Their words tumbled toguether as their motions escalated, until nothing else mattered. Not war, not death, not tomorrow; Only this... This powerful body, thrusting, hair shinning golden by the light of the fire. The same light that cast a bronze glow upon the lithe form moaning beneath, dark curls tousling from the sublime force of those thrusts. Ever faster they moved and now it was Paris, who brought his hand between them, as he instinctively reached for his own throbbing cock.
His action freed Achilles' hand and the Greek brazed it upon the bed, giving himself the added leverage to fully pound into his young lover. Their cries rang even louder as their passionate mating careened them towards completion. Paris' strokes became a blur that matched the quickening of their bodies, as he lost himself to blissful delirium. The ecstatic pressure churned inside them both, heating their blood almost impossibly, until...
They exploded.
Their voices became a raw, but beautiful sound as they convulsed against each other. The heated essense of Achilles flooded inside Paris, even as his own jetted to land in pearly ribbons upon his chest, stomach and all over his hand. On and on went this glorious release yet, paradoxically, it was over all too soon.
Achilles moved his arm and let the leg that he had supported on his shoulder slide limply down his arm. The he lowered his trembling body to rest upon his elbows and buried his face against the neck of his young lover. Paris' own body was shuddering uncontrollably, his breathing ragged as tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. A different breath fluttered into his moistened ear, carrying with it a soft whisper from the one who had just taken his virginity.
" Do not cry my prince...my beloved."
Paris turned his head at those words and was met by sky-blue eyes that were gazing at him with aching tenderness. Their lips met again and this time, the kiss was a sacred communion, a bittersweet expression of all that they both knew could never be.
And so it was, that in the midst of an encampment of war, these two enemies passed the rest of the night away entwined in one another's arms...
TBC...
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- 5
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Rage Regret & Redemption