you think we can do this before it doesn’t work anymore?” Lem asked him, voice a little breathless.
“I don’t know. How many times have you done this before?”
“Never with such pleasure, my prince.”
“Thank you.” He leaned in, the scent of Lem overwhelming.
“No, thank you.” Lem arched, pushing into his touches.
Jules let his tongue flick out and gather the salt on Lem’s skin. A low, sweet groan filled the air, Lem’s fingers opening and closing. He licked again and again, fascinated by the flavor of Lem’s flesh, salty and rich and male.
“It isn’t right,” Lem whispered, “For you to abase yourself by licking me. But I cannot ask you to stop.”
“I don’t feel abased. I feel strong.” He felt alive and awake.
“I make you feel strong? I like that. I want so many good things for you.”
His tongue moved over the flesh of Lem’s nipple, and the skin tightened, drew up. A long shudder went through Lem as well.
“Good?” Jules wanted it to be good.
“Yes. Yes, please.” Lem’s eyes held a hunger in them.
Excellent. It allowed him to repeat the action, trace the tight nipple with the very tip of his tongue.
“Jules!” Lem’s voice was filled with so much need.
He began to suck, pulling with a steady rhythm. Lem’s hips moved with him, and when he sucked more quickly, Lem’s hips also moved quicker. Fascinating. Truly. Lem clawed at the bed, fingers digging in hard. His bodyguard knew to tell him to stop and so far had not, so Jules didn’t.
“Please, oh, Jules. My prince. My own.” The words sounded like whimpers, breathless pleas.
His fingers slid down to wrap about Lem’s stiffness.
“Yes!” Lem’s cry was loud, and Jules stuffed his hand into Lem’s mouth.
Shh. Shh. Quiet, my Lem.
“Sorry, Jules. Too good.”
He squeezed Lem’s hard cock, stroked once. Lem covered his mouth again, this time with his own hand, and moaned into it.
Jules would push up into a kiss, but his mouth was busy, lips full. The tiny hard bit of flesh in his mouth grew hotter the longer he sucked. He felt Lem’s cock swelling in his fingers, spreading them. His Lem was going to spill again, Jules knew it. He desired it, that loss of control, that scent.
Lem’s body responded to his every touch, to his suction, and needy noises sounded from around Lem’s hand. His thumb slipped across the tip, and he spread the slickness he found there. Lem’s whimpered response was music to his ears.
He swooped down, licked the wet slit in Lem’s cock. Lem’s shout was muffled by his own hand this time, and hot liquid shot out of the hole Jules just tasted. He licked his lips clean, humming deep in his chest.
“I’m sorry, my prince, I couldn’t help it.”
The flavor was not offensive—salty, a bit bitter, but not offensive, and Jules didn’t mind it at all. Lem’s apologies were not necessary.
Lem lay beneath him, panting softly. Jules kept tasting, cleaning himself and Lem as a quiet lassitude took him. In the end, Lem pulled him up into the curve of the strong body, holding him. It was warm and smelled of both Lem and himself, and he had never felt so safe.
“Stay?” Jules asked.
“Of course, Jules. I am yours.”
“My own Lem.” He liked that.
“Yes, my prince. Your very own.” Lem pulled him in closer, so warm.
He cuddled in, totally at peace for the first time since Mabon had left him. The sounds of Lem’s breathing, the sensation of the large chest rising and falling against his ear let him float there.
Chapter Six
Lem wanted to take Jules out of the castle, at least onto the grounds. While Jules’ private gardens were nice, they had explored them at length, spending some time every day out there, eating the apples and drinking from the fountain. Color and health were in Jules’ cheeks now, and the only drawback to the gardens was that they couldn’t touch, couldn’t kiss and taste and make each other explode with pleasure.
He sent a message to the King
“I don’t know. How many times have you done this before?”
“Never with such pleasure, my prince.”
“Thank you.” He leaned in, the scent of Lem overwhelming.
“No, thank you.” Lem arched, pushing into his touches.
Jules let his tongue flick out and gather the salt on Lem’s skin. A low, sweet groan filled the air, Lem’s fingers opening and closing. He licked again and again, fascinated by the flavor of Lem’s flesh, salty and rich and male.
“It isn’t right,” Lem whispered, “For you to abase yourself by licking me. But I cannot ask you to stop.”
“I don’t feel abased. I feel strong.” He felt alive and awake.
“I make you feel strong? I like that. I want so many good things for you.”
His tongue moved over the flesh of Lem’s nipple, and the skin tightened, drew up. A long shudder went through Lem as well.
“Good?” Jules wanted it to be good.
“Yes. Yes, please.” Lem’s eyes held a hunger in them.
Excellent. It allowed him to repeat the action, trace the tight nipple with the very tip of his tongue.
“Jules!” Lem’s voice was filled with so much need.
He began to suck, pulling with a steady rhythm. Lem’s hips moved with him, and when he sucked more quickly, Lem’s hips also moved quicker. Fascinating. Truly. Lem clawed at the bed, fingers digging in hard. His bodyguard knew to tell him to stop and so far had not, so Jules didn’t.
“Please, oh, Jules. My prince. My own.” The words sounded like whimpers, breathless pleas.
His fingers slid down to wrap about Lem’s stiffness.
“Yes!” Lem’s cry was loud, and Jules stuffed his hand into Lem’s mouth.
Shh. Shh. Quiet, my Lem.
“Sorry, Jules. Too good.”
He squeezed Lem’s hard cock, stroked once. Lem covered his mouth again, this time with his own hand, and moaned into it.
Jules would push up into a kiss, but his mouth was busy, lips full. The tiny hard bit of flesh in his mouth grew hotter the longer he sucked. He felt Lem’s cock swelling in his fingers, spreading them. His Lem was going to spill again, Jules knew it. He desired it, that loss of control, that scent.
Lem’s body responded to his every touch, to his suction, and needy noises sounded from around Lem’s hand. His thumb slipped across the tip, and he spread the slickness he found there. Lem’s whimpered response was music to his ears.
He swooped down, licked the wet slit in Lem’s cock. Lem’s shout was muffled by his own hand this time, and hot liquid shot out of the hole Jules just tasted. He licked his lips clean, humming deep in his chest.
“I’m sorry, my prince, I couldn’t help it.”
The flavor was not offensive—salty, a bit bitter, but not offensive, and Jules didn’t mind it at all. Lem’s apologies were not necessary.
Lem lay beneath him, panting softly. Jules kept tasting, cleaning himself and Lem as a quiet lassitude took him. In the end, Lem pulled him up into the curve of the strong body, holding him. It was warm and smelled of both Lem and himself, and he had never felt so safe.
“Stay?” Jules asked.
“Of course, Jules. I am yours.”
“My own Lem.” He liked that.
“Yes, my prince. Your very own.” Lem pulled him in closer, so warm.
He cuddled in, totally at peace for the first time since Mabon had left him. The sounds of Lem’s breathing, the sensation of the large chest rising and falling against his ear let him float there.
Chapter Six
Lem wanted to take Jules out of the castle, at least onto the grounds. While Jules’ private gardens were nice, they had explored them at length, spending some time every day out there, eating the apples and drinking from the fountain. Color and health were in Jules’ cheeks now, and the only drawback to the gardens was that they couldn’t touch, couldn’t kiss and taste and make each other explode with pleasure.
He sent a message to the King
Similar Books
