Ten #3
Then, Cin could say nothing at all, everything that came out of his mouth a torrent of emotion and need too sharp for words.
He bit down on the prince’s shoulder, rocking into the prince’s hand as those fingers seemed to turn him inside out.
It was like neither of the mediocre times he’d tried such things in town as a teen, with hints of the rush and fire he’d felt at home while thinking of the prince’s mouth, but this—this was hotter and heavier and fuller and rougher and better in every way, unpredictable and perfect.
The swell came between his legs with such sudden burning bliss that he had to bury his scream in Lorenz’s shoulder, his eyes rolling back as he came.
He went nearly limp with panting after, clinging to the prince for support.
His sweet spot tingled, leaving him with little, awkward sobs of pleasure as Prince Lorenz carefully withdrew his hand.
Cin knew, in the back of his mind, that he should be offering to return the favor—even if he didn’t know how to give anyone half of what Prince Lorenz had just given him—but the pain between his ribs was sliding back into being, harsher and more jagged than before.
It was all he could do to hold to the wall with one hand and the prince with the other and pretend he hadn’t come out of that magical bliss into agony.
As he tried to pull himself together, the prince drew his hard dick out of his pants and began rubbing his own saliva aggressively up and down its length.
One of his knees quavered and he leaned against the pigeonry wall.
Almost immediately, he stiffened with a groan.
Cum spilled over his fingers. He released a shaky breath.
They’d both finished.
It was over.
Cin found himself strangely disappointed—not in anything they'd done, but in that their moment of pleasure had come and gone so quickly, a spark of heaven followed by the hell that was forming in Cin’s sides.
He knew he had no right to feel such loss over the speed of it all; whatever this was between them would never be meant for anything more than a kiss and a quick fuck.
But at the thought of their evening foray coming to an end, Cin already found himself missing Prince Lorenz: his easy banter, his generous nature, his way of bringing Cin into the joke.
And now his lips. And his tongue. And his fingers.
The prince cleared his throat, and Cin found he was staring at those very fingers. He turned his gaze out the nearest window—down to the castle entrance. His stomach dropped.
Below, Manfred and Emma were leaving.
Floy wasn’t with them, but it didn’t matter—if anyone reached their home to find Cin gone, his ruse would be up. No more ball nights, prince or no prince.
Cin gave a stiff bow to Prince Lorenz, feeling naked as he stepped toward the door, as though with each stride the prince might notice his pain and worry. “This was lovely, but I—”
“You’re leaving?” He said it with such sadness that Cin’s heart leaped.
The prince truly did like him—wanted to be here, with Cin, in this lucky tower, whether God smiled upon them or not. It made Cin want to kiss him again. But that wouldn’t stop his siblings from leaving the ball. “I’ll be back next week.”
“There’s so much left of the night!” Prince Lorenz made a show of looking Cin’s body up and down, a little quirk to his lips. “There’s so much left of you, as well.”
“I know,” Cin smiled. “Some day, perhaps you’ll earn that rest of me.”
“Cheeky!” the prince protested. He followed Cin out of the dovecote and down the towers steps, laughing as they went. “You want me and yet you deny us both! How cruel is that?”
The prince’s watch-person stepped to the side as Cin reached the bottom of the tower, and he tried to ignore them as they moved back down the hallway to give Cin and the prince their space. He pecked Prince Lorenz on the lips. “Perhaps I want you to work for it.”
“What kind of work is this?” The prince snorted. He grabbed Cin playfully, kissing his head and neck, and teased, “Usually, I need only ask for things and they’re brought to me!”
Through the tall windows along the hallway, Cin could see Emma and Manfred pulling away in their carriage. As much as it hurt to let go, Cin slipped free of Prince Lorenz’s embrace. He waggled his eyebrows. “You might just have to come get this one.”
The prince’s smug grin grew, and he reached for Cin again, but Cin was ready.
He twisted beneath the prince’s searching grip and strode across the hall.
Throwing open the nearest of the tall windows, he clutched its pane as the glass swung out like a door.
He dropped his feet down to the stone wall beneath, holding his breath to see whether the magic in his new elvish shoes would truly support him.
His boots held him despite the lack of footholds, and he reveled in their stability as he clung to the wall outside the window, half his body still inside the building’s threshold.
Cin smiled, a thrill running through him. He would have Prince Lorenz’s lips again—his tongue, his hands, and more perhaps. “Find me next week, and you can claim me then.”
The prince leaned both hands against the sill, his face an inch from Cin’s as he replied, “All of you?”
The thought came with a tiny spark of fear and a far larger blaze of excited anticipation, threatening to roar Cin’s desire right back to life again. “Anything you want.”
Then, he swung to the story below, along the arch of the main door and down to the ground, and as swift and sure as the birds who’d granted him their magic, he was gone.