Aqrabuamelu Boyfriend: Rajarshi #2 (special preview)

My heart rumbles around in my chest. “No, my king.” Giving someone a bath is a ritual of sorts, a showing of trust and felty to someone. It was not an act a king showed to someone who served him.

“There’s something I wish to give you,” he whispers to me. “Something that I feel is only fair after I bathe your beautiful body.” He presses his lips to my ear. “I soiled my temple, let me take care of it.”

I tremble as his words trail down my spine. “That is not what a king should do,” I tell him. “I should bathe you.”

“You bathe me plenty. I owe you so much, my Erameni. Your affection and kindness towards me means more than I could ever hope to impart with just orgasms.”

I can’t bear to look up at him. “I like how we are, do not get me wrong. I just don’t want you to lower yourself and demean yourself to bathe me.”

“You say this when you have just had my cock in your mouth?” Rajarshi laughs. “I am not demeaning myself to bathe a woman I admire, that I desire, that makes me feel comforted and adored with only a smile my way.” He kisses my braids. “That’s why I want to bathe you, my Erameni, to show you that I am not just doing something out of need, but because I want to take care of a body that makes me happy. To show a woman I love her.”

I hide my face against his chest. He said the words I had longed for but gave myself no hope to hear them. The tears come to my eyes before I even can register the pain in his voice as he spoke them. “My king, no,” I whimper.

“I love you, Erameni,” he whispers. “How could I not?”

I close my eyes as he lifts my chin to make me look at him. “Open your eyes for me, look at me and know what I say is true.”

I sniffle and let the tears flow. I open my eyes slowly, gazing up into the honey of his own. I grasp his wrist, keeping his hand on my face. 

“Let be bathe you, my Erameni,” he whispers again. “Let me show you I am nothing but a man who loves you. No king. No castle. No money in my vaults. Just a pitiful man at the feet of a goddess.” 

He sweeps me off the bed and carries me to his private bath. He places me into the warmed pool and ties my braids up and away from my body. I sit there in silence, stunned and trembling from his confession. When his hands rub down my shoulders, he works the soap into a rich lather. He kneads it down my body, scrubbing my legs with a brush and using a stone to slough away the rough skin on my feet. He massages my breasts with oils and kneads his fingers into my soft belly and thighs. He then takes my hair out of the braids, brushing it and coating it in sweet oil. 

“Why are you shaking?” He looks up at me as he rubs my legs. “You’ve been trembling all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m terrified this is all going to be a dream, and when I wake up, I am back in the village, just poor and hungry. I don’t deserve this! This must be a cruel trick.”

Rajarshi kisses me. “No dream, my Erameni,” he whispers. “Or else it would be another nightmare for me. So stop trembling and enjoy this moment.”

“You’ve done enough,” I still his hands. “You’ve done everything but shave me,” I tease him.

“I wouldn’t dare!” He gasps in alarm. “I love your hair.” He shoves his fingers under my pits and I squeal with laughter. “Every dark curl, stray or well placed.” He kisses my neck and drags his teeth down my shoulder. “Especially-” his palm kneads my mound. “This luscious forest down here.”

I press my palms to his chest. “You’ll get me excited again.”

“Not yet.” He kisses me and moves his hands away. “I have something much more important to do than make love to you.”

My heart hammers away and he takes me from the water. He dries me off and rubs sweet oils into my skin before taking me back to the bedroom. He opens a curtain to let in light and he has me stand before his wardrobe. He opens it and inside, there are gowns and robes of all colors. Hanging on the door is one of ochre and gold, which he takes out.

“I want you to wear what hangs in this wardrobe from now on,” he tells me. 

There is a pit in my stomach that is growing to my limbs. I touch the ochre gown and then let my fingers slip away from it.

“Erameni, what’s wrong?” Rajarshi gasps.

I look up at him and press my lips into a fine line. “I was happy to comfort you, my king,” I shiver. “But I cannot be a concubine.”