Love Cleanses All



January 2002

The King burst into the room, pure undiluted anger pouring off his body, his long hair whipping wildly around him. He ripped off his crown and hurled it into the waiting hands of his young valet. The manservant rushed forward, helplessly trying to catch the garments his majesty was flinging at him. 

Silken cloth ripped, gemstones tumbled to the floor as Louis tore his clothes from his body in an attempt to rid himself of the intense emotions strangling his mind. 

“The Cardinal be damned! He will hang from the gallows for this attack on my guard.” Long elegant fingers jerked roughly on black strands of hair, raking back the untamed mane. “I should have known his request for the use of my Musketeers was suspiciously evil. Sacre bleau! How could I have been so stupid.” 

Taking several deep calming breaths, the King divested himself of his jeweled adornments. Glancing at the bed and noting its emptiness, he turned towards his valet. 

“Where is he?” 

“The bathing chamber, Sire.” 

Emerald eyes smoldered with desire, their gaze moving to the closed door of the adjoining room. A look of sensual pleasure grazed the King's lean dark features. 

“Leave me. I will call if I need you.” 

The young man gathered his majesty’s garments, bowed low and left. 

Louis smiled, one hand skimming restlessly over his naked chest and down to his awakening erection. A low lusty laugh slid into a slow groan of unquenchable need. He swiftly removed his remaining garments and quietly slipped into the room where his consort was. 

A tortured gasp fractured the silence of the bathing chamber. Scented steam arose from the marble basin, filling the room with the subtle aroma of honeysuckle. Slender, coltish arms were stretched lazily along the sides, fingers trailing idly in the warm water. Iridescent bubbles teased the upper torso of his dozing lover, floating delicate kisses over the rosy peaks of his nipples.  Drifting islands of foam teased the King's vision with glimpses of drowsy vulnerable flesh. 

As he moved to kneel beside the large basin, Louis smiled at the wanton image of his young consort. The beauty of the innocent sprawl, the wet naked limbs, the full luscious lips--the image of pure sensuality taunted the young Royal. A single finger pursued the path of a droplet as it slipped off a slim shoulder. A hungry tongue snared the errant bead of water before moving on to lick a path of liquid heat over the solidity of a bicep. Teeth nibbled on the tender flesh of an inner arm before whispered kisses soothed the troubled area. 

Louis moved even closer, his gaze centering on the satin tresses of sorrel, curled by the steam. The King stood and rubbed his hungry manhood in the luxurious softness of his consort's short locks. 

Husky moans drifted into the steam as satin caressed steel. Louis relinquished the tight rein on his emotions and gave himself up to the erotic embrace of his lover’s hair on the sensitive skin of his cock. Thick liquid pearls escaped into the dark strands, conditioning the lustrous spirals with the cream of hot passion. 

Louis’ eyes snapped open as small hands tangled with his, removing them from his erection. He looked down and beheld a vision of pagan desire rising from the water. Droplets of water trickled down Phillipe's pale flesh, trailing over firm, youthful muscles and losing their way in the black bramble of curls that sheltered his slender cock. The slow teasing movement of one single bubble captured Louis' gaze as it caught and trembled precariously on one of his consort's nipples. He leaned down and cautiously exhaled a breath of warm air. The fragile sphere burst, releasing its moisture unto the small nub. The King allowed his hands to splay out over the smooth wet chest of his small consort, his fingers insistent in their quest of torment, pulling, pinching the tight rosy peaks of flesh. 

Louis gently placed a kiss on the soft lips of his young lover, the richness of breathless moans caressing the humid silence.  Releasing himself from the tender grip of Phillipe's hands, he climbed into the basin and lowered himself into the warm depths.  He reached over the side and picked up a golden urn, adding more hot water. Sprawling against the curved back of the marble tub, he beckoned to his lover, his eyes dark and sensual. 

“Come to me, my beautiful angel. Come and let me taste your sweetness.” 

The youth reached across the King and retrieved a container of fragrant ointment from the gilded stand that stood nearby. He coated his fingers with liberal amounts of the thick salve. Rising to his knees, he leaned forward and offered his hardened nipples to his beloved sovereign. As hungry lips nursed on his small body, the lad reached behind himself and teased his hidden bud with his lotion-covered fingers. 

Hoarse cries echoed throughout the chamber as the two men surrendered to the raging needs of their desires. Topaz eyes melded with deep emerald as bodies crashed against each other and fought to unite physically. Hands and fingers discovered and explored hidden places of aching need. Flesh yielded to an earthly embrace, exacting heat sinking deep. Hearts hastened in their rhythm as blood surged, seeking an escape for the blazing inferno of unfulfilled need. Intoxicating waves of pleasure battled with the convulsive need for control. Small sharp teeth sought the communion of flesh and blood as they bit down hard into the bronzed skin of his lover. 

Passion, desire and love spiraled out, binding the two young lovers as they abdicated their hold on reality. Shuddering pulses of release signaled their fall, the rush to the edge of awareness, the sweet insanity of exquisite pleasure. Arms and legs tangled together as lips sought and savored the last moments of their orgasmic union. Arousal's hunger was satisfied, the lazy command of satiation guiding hands and fingers in slow gliding strokes over sensitive softening flesh. 

Sliding down into the water, Louis gathered his exhausted and trembling consort close, whispering tiny kisses across Phillipe’s radiant face. Lifting the boy’s left hand to his mouth, he worshipped, with his lips, the simple band of gold that graced his lover’s left ring finger. 

“My heavenly angel. You have captured my heart for all eternity. I am but a humble servant to your love.” 

Phillipe's gentle smile and tender embrace acknowledged his King's words, his thin fingers touching Louis' swollen lips as they  whispered his name. Nodding his head, the young man uttered a simple word. 


The end