Chapter 8 #4
"Wait," Jakob gasped between kisses. He shifted, guiding Harald to lie back on the sun-warmed stone. The sight of Harald stretched out beneath him, golden in the sunlight, made Jakob's breath catch. "Is this okay?"
Harald nodded, reaching up to tug Jakob down to him, over him. "More than okay."
The first press of their bodies together from hips to chest drew gasps from both of them.
The rock was warm against Harald's back, and Harald was fever-hot against Jakob's skin despite the cool lake.
Their legs tangled together, and Jakob braced himself on his forearms, hovering over Harald, suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of this moment.
This was Harald - Prince of Sweden, the boy he'd been watching from afar, the man he'd been dreaming about since that kiss in the hayloft - laid out beneath him, looking up at him with a smile on his lips and hunger in his eyes.
Harald's hands traced up Jakob's arms to his shoulders, leaving trails of heat against his chilled, wet skin.
"Stop thinking so much," Harald murmured, reaching up to brush damp curls from Jakob's forehead.
Jakob laughed shakily. "I just... I never expected..." He swallowed hard. "I thought the hayloft was all we'd have."
Harald's expression softened. He pulled Jakob down for another hungry kiss. The friction as their bodies touched created a delicious heat between them, and Jakob couldn't stop the soft sound that escaped his throat.
"Like this?" Harald whispered, pressing his hips up in a slow, deliberate movement that made stars burst behind Jakob's eyes. "More?"
"Yes," Jakob gasped, "Oh, Hal."
They found a rhythm together, slow and exploratory at first, then growing more urgent.
Harald's hands roamed Jakob's back, cupping his ass, mapping the play of muscle under skin, while Jakob's mouth found every bit of Harald's neck that made him shiver.
Every roll of their hips sent pleasure spiraling through Jakob's body, building like a gathering storm.
"Jakob," Hal breathed, and the sound of his name in that wrecked voice nearly undid him. "Look at me."
Jakob forced his eyes open to find Hal watching him, his careful composure completely shattered.
Replaced by raw need that matched Jakob's own.
His hair was drying in the sun, curling slightly at the temples, and his lips were red and swollen from their kisses.
The sight of him like this - undone and wanting - was almost too much.
"Beautiful," Jakob gasped, the word torn from him as their movements grew more desperate. "So beautiful, Hal—"
The use of the nickname made Harald groan, his rhythm faltering. His forehead pressed against Jakob's, their breaths mingling as they moved together. "Say it again," he pleaded.
"Hal," Jakob breathed, and felt Harald shudder against him. "My Hal, my prince—"
Harald's control snapped at those words. His movements grew erratic, his fingers digging into Jakob's shoulders as pleasure overtook him. The sight of Hal's desperation beneath him pushed Jakob right to the edge.
"Jakob," Harald gasped, "Jakob, I'm—"
"Yes," Jakob breathed, "yes, with me, please—"
They fell together, Harald's face buried in Jakob's neck, Jakob's head curled into Hal's shoulder.
They lay together for a long moment as their bodies trembled and then were still.
In the calm of the lake, there was nothing but their ragged breathing and the gentle lap of water against rock.
The world seemed to have narrowed to just this - the two of them, tangled together on sun-warmed stone.
Finally, Harald lifted his head, pressing soft kisses along Jakob's jaw. The tenderness of it made Jakob's heart clench. He traced his fingers down Harald's side, memorizing the feel of him, wanting to hold onto this moment forever.
"Are you alright?" Harald murmured against his skin, and Jakob realized he'd gone still. Harald pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, his expression soft in a way Jakob had never seen before. Gone was the careful royal mask, replaced by something warm and intimate that made Jakob's chest ache.
"I just..." Jakob swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the reality of this moment. "I never thought..."
"What?" Harald's thumb traced his cheekbone.
"That I wanted this as much as you did? That I've been thinking about touching you since I caught you watching me this morning in front of the mirror?
" His smile turned playful. "That your prince could be reduced to rutting against you on a rock like a desperate schoolboy? "
The teasing made Jakob laugh, breaking through his awe. He leaned in to steal another kiss, because he could now - could taste Harald's answering smile, could feel the way Harald's body melted against his. The sun was warm on their backs, drying the last of the lake water from their skin.
"We should probably..." Jakob gestured vaguely toward their discarded clothes on the shore, but made no move to get up.
"Probably," Harald agreed, but his mouth found Jakob's throat again, and it was another long while before they cleaned up and managed to make their way back to land.
The late afternoon sun had warmed the sand where they'd left their clothes.
Harald caught Jakob's hand as they walked up the beach, tugging him close for another soft kiss that made Jakob's knees weak.
Getting dressed was a slow process, interrupted by wandering hands and gentle touches - Harald's fingers tracing the freckles across Jakob's shoulders, Jakob unable to resist pressing his lips to that spot behind Harald's ear that made him shiver.
"Your hair's a mess," Harald murmured, reaching up to smooth Jakob's wild curls. His touch was impossibly tender, and Jakob leaned into it like a cat being petted.
"Whose fault is that?" Jakob meant it to be teasing, but his voice came out too soft, too full of the feelings expanding in his chest. Harald's eyes darkened, and he pulled Jakob in for another kiss that started gentle but quickly turned heated.
"We'll never get dressed at this rate," Jakob gasped when they finally broke apart.
"Would that be so terrible?" Harald's smile was playful, but there was something vulnerable in his eyes that made Jakob's heart twist. Like he wasn't quite sure of his welcome, even now.
Jakob caught Harald's hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. "No," he said softly. "But I'd rather not explain to my mother why the Prince of Sweden is wandering around our farm half-naked."
Harald laughed, the sound bright and free in a way Jakob had never heard before. It made him want to gather Harald close and keep him here forever. Instead, he helped Harald with the buttons of his borrowed shirt, letting his fingers linger on warm skin.
They walked slowly back toward the farmhouse, shoulders brushing, stealing glances at each other like schoolboys.
Harald's borrowed clothes were slightly damp, his hair curling as it dried in the sun.
He looked nothing like a prince - just a beautiful boy with kiss-swollen lips and a smile he couldn't quite contain.
Jakob wasn't doing much better at hiding his own smile. Every few steps, their hands would brush, sending sparks up his arm. Once, Harald caught his fingers, squeezing gently before letting go. The simple touch made Jakob's heart flutter like a bird in his chest.
"Your shirt's buttoned wrong," Harald murmured, reaching out to fix it. His fingers lingered on Jakob's collar, smoothing it down. The tender gesture made Jakob's breath catch.
"Can't imagine why I was distracted while dressing," Jakob said, and was rewarded with another of those bright, free laughs that made his chest ache with joy.
It took another half hour before they finally extricated themselves enough to walk, mostly clothed and mostly calmly toward the gate, where Jakob bid Hal a final and much more modest farewell with a smile and a squeeze of his palm.
His body still ached pleasantly from their afternoon on the rock, and he couldn't quite hide his grin as he let Hal out of the farm gate.
Jakob was in no hurry to go back inside, the night cool and crisp with the first bite of winter, leaves falling and fluttering all around Hal as his figure faded into the dark and distance.
He leaned against the gate post, replaying every moment, every touch, every kiss.
His fingers absently traced the spots where Hal's mouth had been, remembering.
It was only because he stayed out so long, lost in the memory of Hal's hands and lips and whispered words, that he saw Rachel.
Her pale day dress stood out against the gathering dark as she emerged from behind the old storage barn, and Jakob's contentment shattered as he watched her part reluctantly from a tall male figure with pale, pale blond hair.
It could be any number of people, Jakob told himself, as the analytical part of his mind desperately cataloged possibilities.
Marcus from town? But no, the figure was slim where Marcus was bulky.
Old Erick returning Rachel's satchel? But his stomach was tight with certainty, because by far the most likely candidate would be the person Jakob least wanted anywhere near his sister: Christian Haakon Vasa.