Chapter Eleven #2
He slipped off slowly, stretching out the sensations, making me shiver. Resting on his heels, his brown eyes now black with passion and his lips red as a peony, I felt something shift inside me. A feeling akin to overeating but higher up the torso.
“Would you wish me to take you?” I asked, caressing his soft cheek with my fingertips as he stared up at me.
“Yes, I wish that greatly.” He looked about the room, a shy smile crinkling his eyes slightly. “In my haste to get your generous prick in my mouth, I seem to have forgotten one important thing.”
“What is that?” I rubbed my thumb over his lower lip, pleased at how swollen it was, that my cock had done that. After I plowed him well, I would do the same with his tender hole.
“Where is Prescott?”
I snorted loudly, cupped his chin, and eased him from the floor to stand before me.
“Foolish we both be then because my thoughts of anything save having you in my arms again drove my dear guardian from my mind. He is in the music room with the twins, their protector, and their music tutor, who is teaching them the piccolo.”
“I wager the tutor was most surprised to see Prescott with the prince and princess.” He reached up to remove a silver pin from his cape. I brushed his fingers aside, consumed with the need to be the one to strip him naked.
“He was, but he was professional enough to mask his shock well.” My fingers felt like bloated sausages as I fumbled with the ornate clasp. “Fukkate,” I snarled.
“Let me,” he whispered, his hands coming to rest on mine. We looked at each other. That sensation hit me again. As if I had swallowed a mint green jellyfish. “You are too eager and will tear my cape.”
“Truth be told, I was about to rip the damn pin and cape from you,” I confessed while letting my hands fall to his breeches. “I’ll work on these. I have more experience in getting handsome elves out of their trousers.”
“Now you are bragging.” With a gentle motion, the brooch came free from the thick velvet material around his shoulders. The capelet hit the floor just as I freed him from his breeches.
“Now I am ravenous,” I admitted, giving him a shove that sent him to the bed on his back, his pants as well as his braies keeping his legs bound in material. “This must be quick, sadly, for the time is about to—”
The first bells of morning prayers rang out.
I snarled at the sound as I plucked a jar of thick salve from the nightstand.
The rich jelly was used for boots, scabbards, and stiff pricks that required softening.
I’d used it several times since our first night, each time in haste but with his face in my mind’s eye.
“You people and your need to pray when a man should be making love vexes me,” I grumbled, pressing his knees to his chest. A little titter of amusement came from him, followed by a mewl of pleasure as I dipped my fingers into the salve and then pushed a massive amount into his arse.
He clamped around my two digits, teasing, showing me he was eager for penetration. “I should take more time with you.”
“I do not need time. I need your prick in my arse,” he replied, his voice deep with want.
“We shall linger over each other this evening,” I huffed, smearing salve that smelled slightly of beaver castor over my fat cock. His reply was a heated huff, then he hugged his legs to his chest even more tightly. My prick oozed precum as I tapped the head against his slippery entrance.
“Hurry, we dare not be late for your own ceremony.”
Pomp and circumstance. What utter pig shite it all was.
I pressed into him, holding my cock at the base, my eyes fluttering as I sank into his heat.
Tight, slick heat that robbed me of my breath.
With a snarl, I sank into him fully, grabbing his knees for balance.
Knees on the edge of the bed, his arse resting on the emerald tunic.
“This will be rough,” I warned, pulling out until just the tip of me rested inside him.
“Stop talking about it and show me,” he ground out, squeezing his channel to massage my cockhead. Unable to not give this male what he asked for, I thrust in. The bed creaked, the legs groaning as it moved slightly over the floor. “Ah! Yes, that is…that is what I have dreamed of…Coelum!”
My name on his lips. It weakened me yet spurred me on.
I fucked him madly, hair covering my face, my hips flying, his hole making wet erotic noises.
The second bell chimed. I inched up, clothes wadding under my knees, and doubled my speed.
He yelped, groaned, and blew apart, thick pearly ropes of spend soiling his tunic as his cock kicked and spewed.
His arse constricted around me. One pump more was all it took.
My release rocked me. I drove in deeply, so deep that he hissed but released his hold on his legs to grab my arse.
Locking me inside him. This was where I wished to be.
Right here. Taking this man to heights of pleasure, his burning eyes holding mine as I filled his hole to overflowing.
A blinding flash of lightning filled the room, followed by a thunderous explosion that shook the castle. A strike. Close by at that. Perhaps hitting one of the flagpoles atop the nearest battlements.
“By Ihdos,” Le’ral panted, his voice cracked as I glanced from the doors to him. His eyes touched mine. “That was a…rousing ending…in more ways…than one.”
He made me chuckle. Easing out of him, I took a moment to enjoy the sight of his well-used hole coated with salve and seed.
I would have pressed a finger into him to push my spend back inside, but the sound of staff scurrying up and down the halls sadly ended that sinful plan.
I did move away to allow him to lower his legs with a moan.
With his boots on the floor, I moved over him, blowing some hair from between us so I could kiss him.
His hands went into my hair, fisting it loosely as his tongue tangled with mine.
“This storm feels riddled with ill intent,” I whispered over his lips as a gust of wind tried to rip the doors from their hinges. “Will you come to my room this evening?”
“I shall as long as your companion is not the jealous sort. Your hair is so intriguing. I do love the feel of it on my skin.”
“Then I shall paint you with it tonight.”
A shout from a guard in the corridor to find the castellan. By the sound of that bolt, they would need a few stonemasons summoned. Frowning at the noise, I fell to the side and stood, hoisting my breeches up to my hips before walking to the wash basin to clean my prick.
“Are you sure you wish to engage in a longer affair?” he asked from behind me.
I turned, wet cloth in hand, cock spent and soft, to find him sitting on the edge of my soft mattress, his tunic stained with his seed, his expression muted.
“Are you sure you wish to engage in a longer affair?” I tossed back to him.
“I am…willing, yes, but wary.”
“As am I,” I confessed, spinning back to rinse and rewetting the cloth for him. He smiled weakly at me when I handed it to him. “Your loss was a deep one. I understand that. I do not seek to replace Mirolar, nor could I even if I sought to do so, for my lineage is a soiled one.”
“You are a noble elf. Born to a lady of prestige.”
“A lady who lay with a human pirate,” I reminded him before tucking my prick into my breeches as the castle grew louder and louder. “I am a bastard. My brother’s commands aside, I am not going to be welcome at court.”
“Many who claim the title of lord of a vills have far less noble blood than you.” He stood, washed between his legs, and passed the cloth to me. I threw it across the room into the basin, where it splashed into the bowl. “I shall have to change.”
I cupped his chin, bringing his gaze to mine from his soiled tunic. “Let us go forth from this day with an agreement of sorts. We shall find each other’s beds, have our joys and pleasures, and when my ship is ready to sail, we shall see where we stand.”
“That may be many passes of the full moons.”
“Aye, it might. I am willing to give my brother’s fantasy a go as long as I know you and your tight arse will be in my bed when we retire at night.” I gave him a wicked wink.
His reply came after a swollen moment of deep thought on his part. “Then I am willing to see where our fates take us as well.”
I pressed my lips to his. So sweet. And now mine for as long as I was here. Perhaps I could get used to being Lord of Renedith if he lay in my arms every—
A violent surge of wind blew out the windows, dousing the room with seawater and foam that rushed in to dampen our boots.
We jumped apart with shouts of fright as glass exploded into the room.
The seas were foul and dark today. An ill portent for a proclamation, any sailor with his salt would say.
Perhaps, just this once, the old sea dogs were wrong…
I’d chosen the mustard for no other reason than I enjoyed mustard on my sausages.
If I did happen to dribble some of the yellow condiment onto my balls during the small state luncheon taking place after the proclamation reading, it wouldn’t stand out. A small state luncheon I’d not been informed of until I’d climbed into the king’s carriage a moment ago.
“You look dashing,” Aelir said after telling me about the luncheon, glancing at Raewyn for a nod that he got, but it was a grudging one.
“Tezen came to us with the news of your night in the library. The castellan has been notified, and a locksmith is already in the castle placing locks on the doors. I do not know where my children have gotten this streak of wildness.”
Raewyn said nothing, but her cocked brow spoke volumes.
“We’d like to thank you and your guardian for amusing them,” she said.
“They woke briefly when we entered to check on them before leaving and were most exuberant about becoming pirates when they grew up, so they too could sail the green seas to meet the singing fish.”