The One and Only Sami Chapter 38

“Sami.”

Razard’s finger touched the back of Sami’s ear one last time. This time, it smelled of orange blossoms.

“I haven’t taken your scent yet.”

“What? …Oh.”

Jasmine, pomegranate, oasis, sand, mint, apple, rose, tree bark, iron, and fire.

Perhaps because of the myriad scents that had been wafting off Razard just moments ago, Sami reacted sensitively to those words.

He remembered that time they had flown to the oasis to escape the Mage’s trap.

‘You smell good. Like the jewel in this ring.’

‘Your scent is unique, I’d like to take some of it.’

Razard had demanded the body scent lingering on him as payment for saving Sami’s life.

Sami suddenly pulled his wrist up to his nose. Because he was so nervous, a bit of sweat had made his natural scent stronger, but other than the lingering rose water from his grooming and his own skin, there wasn’t any particular smell to speak of.

If anything, Razard was the one overflowing with fragrance. Deep, diverse scents felt as though they were pooled together, ready to drip off him.

“Didn’t you say you’d find out before…”

As he retraced his thoughts, the memory of “finding out” flashed back, and he clamped his mouth shut.

So many major events had happened since that day he’d been subjected to this and that for the Marut retrieval that it felt like a long time ago. In reality, it had only happened yesterday.

The man hopping through his window to celebrate his birthday for the first time, taking him to the cave beneath the oasis to trap the Jinni inside him, and then…

‘I’ll scrape up every drop of the semen that comes out here and make you taste it. So, make me happy. You can do that, right?’

He even remembered the moment he’d obediently opened his mouth to pleasurably take the man’s member.

Sami whipped his head away so fast it made an audible sound. The necklace Razard had draped on him as decoration jingled with the movement. The tiny charms hanging from the chain caught his ragged breathing and the trembling of his shoulders, ringing with a ticklish sound.

He swallowed hard. Alone in his agitation, he gripped and released the railing repeatedly before finally finding his words.

“That… ‘taking’ it, you mean… like, like what happened back then?”

His crown was damp with sweat from his frantic worrying. It was obvious what he was thinking inside that small, round head.

Razard’s hand was still touching Sami. Gently caressing the round curve of his ear with his thumb, he answered simply in a kind voice.

“Yeah.”

Short, soft, and firm.

Sami didn’t dare look at Razard, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. Razard rubbed the boy’s cheek with his fingertips.

Sami’s skin was damp with tension. His slightly moist flesh caught the faint light, shimmering like syrup.

Lips pressed tightly together, the bridge of his nose turning red as shameful thoughts occurred to him, and eyes that flickered unsteadily while thoroughly avoiding the man.

“I was going to take it right away, but I’ve changed my mind.”

Across that innocent, rounded, gentle face, the shame of having just learned the taste and scent of a man spread like a stain. It was adorable. That’s why Razard touched him with even more blatant intent.

“I’m going to take my time… raising you well before I eat you.”

It was around then that Razard’s hand, which had been idly teasing him, stopped. His lazy, languid gaze sparked with something sinister. He adjusted the hand propping up his chin and moved his head even closer to Sami.

“What, did you remember?”

“Ugh, that’s, I mean… i—it hasn’t been that long since it happened…!”

“It’s okay. It’s a good thing to be conscious of it.”

Razard lightly lowered the hand that had been touching Sami’s ear to fiddle with his collar. The texture of the thin but high-quality, soft fabric brushed against his fingers. Noticing the intent behind the way the man rubbed the fabric, Sami quietly sucked in a breath.

Razard didn’t make a sound, but his lips curved into a grin.

“You even know that I shouldn’t touch you like this, don’t you?”

He’d thought he had no taste for eating things that weren’t yet ripe, but the reaction of this virgin he’d discovered was strangely satisfying. Razard slid his hand into the opening of the collar.

“Be conscious of how I touch you and feel ashamed. The more you do, the deeper your scent will become.”

The palm that crawled like a snake with deliberate intent wound itself around the soft curve of Sami’s waist, lingering there.

When that palm gripped his waist and stroked it slowly, Sami’s side trembled. His lips felt as if they were glued together with resin, refusing to part.

Razard applied light pressure to his fingertips as if he might snatch that waist and toy with it at any moment. The supple flesh was squeezed firmly under the pressure of his fingers.

“…How long is this going to take?”

“I don’t know. This is my first time putting so much care into something personally with my own hands. It would have been so much easier if you’d just fallen for it from the start.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m just saying a ‘convenient’ method failed.”

For a moment, it seemed the green ring on his finger glinted as ominously as a snake’s eye, but Sami tried to convince himself he was just being needlessly scared.

“At any rate, you have to be tamed by my hand. So we still have a long way to go.”

Razard’s hand slid smoothly out from beneath the clothes.

“You need to be broken in so that you won’t be startled just by being rubbed this much.”

His smile was comfortable, as if he were stating something perfectly obvious. His cheerful voice, sounding like a whistle, his relaxed air, and the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed.

Everything about him was the Razard Sami knew, yet at the same time, he felt extremely distant.

“…”

Sami had always thought he was just an ordinary, unremarkable servant.

Meeting an strange Mage like Razard several times and talking to him was surely just a coincidence. Coincidence piled upon coincidence to become a story, and that story, like a magic lamp, held shimmering fantasies.

‘You probably saw me as a storyteller who would give you a thousand and one nights of fantasy.’

Only today did Sami realize those coincidences and fantasies happened simply because Razard’s gaze had already fallen upon him.

“Now, since you’ve walked on the floor as you wished, come back. I have more places to show you.”

“…Yes, sir.”

Razard opened his arms. Sami went into that embrace obediently.

His body swayed slowly in rhythm with the man’s footsteps. He felt like a flat, stagnant oasis. It felt as if swaying or rippling was only possible when Razard breathed upon him.

I see.

It wasn’t destiny or anything like that.

That realization made him feel sad and ashamed.

⚜️

Everyone in the palace had no doubt that a man as unremarkable as that would quickly become a mere morsel for Harut.

It was only natural to think so when the young king, who was known for his almost violent appetite for pleasure, decided to keep the boy by his side. Even the dignified Antar had tried his best to refuse handing Sami over because of such worries.

At the same time, some people thought:

He’ll just have his fill a few times and then toss him aside.

After all, Harut’s “pet human” was quite unrefined.

His heels and elbows were hard, the ends of his hair were dry and split, and he constantly looked around warily. He was said to have just reached adulthood, yet he lacked the seductive aura that would usually prompt Harut to take someone to his bed.

Nor was he a lithe, delicate beauty who would feel supple in one’s hands. He was reasonably well-behaved, but like a puppy picked up off the street, he couldn’t hide his scruffy nature no matter how much he was washed and groomed.

If one were to gather all the beauties who had been trained to fit perfectly into his arms and hands, the line would stretch from the castle gates all the way to the market, yet he had chosen that scruffy thing—perhaps it was just another one of Harut’s eccentricities.

Anyway, everyone in the palace thought:

He probably won’t last a few days.

“Come on, you have to open your mouth.”

However, mocking all those expectations, twenty days had passed since the banquet.

Even as the moon completed a full cycle of waxing and waning, Harut showed no signs of being bored with him.

Today, too, he sat that scruffy kid on his lap and fed him pomegranate seeds one by one. The pet human, dressed in thin silk trousers, kept shifting as if uncomfortable on those knees, only to be cowed by Razard’s hand firmly pressing down on his thigh.

Sami stared at him with his lips pressed tight as if he wanted to say something, but Razard merely gazed back at him while holding a pomegranate seed.

Finally, the closed lips parted in resignation. Sami had to swallow the tiny seeds like a bird taking feed until Razard had his fill.