Prince

by Cambria Hebert

  Blood near to boiling, my arm wrapped around his waist, yanking him fully against me. I felt his nostrils flare when he felt the obvious bulge I was sporting. I thought maybe it would shock him enough to pull back.

  It didn’t.

  He kept on kissing, rubbing against me like a cat.

  He was hard too, and it only took a moment for his erection to meet mine, the friction so delicious that our lips broke apart, both of us moaning.

  His head buried in my neck, the fingers in my hair tightened as he thrust against me again, clearly craving more.

  When he found what he wanted, his opened-mouthed heavy panting brushed against my neck. God, he was sinful. Innocent and open, not realizing that literally everything he did made me want to claim him completely.

  The amount of self-restraint I showed was frankly impressive, but if he thrust into me one more time, I might snap.

  Catching his hips, holding them firm, I whispered his name.

  He looked up from where he hid in my neck, but the lustful haze wrapped around him probably hindered his sight.

  “We have to stop now,” I told him patiently, my own cock nearly screaming.

  Blinking, his eyes cleared just slightly, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “I don’t want to.”

  “What do you want?” My voice was strained. The urge to give in was so powerful.

  “More.” He beseeched, trying to thrust up again. “It hurts,” he whimpered.

  “All right.” I soothed, smoothing a palm over his hip. “I’ll take care of you.”

  His low whine filled the bedroom and sent my protective instincts into overdrive, his need the only thing I could focus on.

  Pushing him into the mattress, my hand went between us to lightly brush over his throbbing length.

  His back arched instantly, pushing his hips up, offering his body to my hands.

  “Can I take these off?” I asked, tugging the boxers at the waistband.

  He nodded instantly, but his quick assent did not make me happy. Releasing him, I planted both hands on either side of his body to stare down. “Look at me, puppy.”

  His eyes opened.

  “Can I touch you? We don’t have to have sex, but I can make you feel good.”

  “Yes, Ethan,” he slurred, voice thick with desire and need.

  Leaning in, I licked his lips, tasting those sweet words off his tongue before kissing across his jaw, over his ear, and then down his neck. His head fell to the side, offering me more access so I kissed and sucked a path down to the collar of the T-shirt, tugging the neckline away so I could suck his collarbone between my lips.

  The action made his hips buck up, and I lowered mine a bit so his lower half brushed against mine.

  The meeting of our clothed members made my forehead fall onto his shoulder, no longer able to kiss. Together, our hips rolled, cocks rubbing against the other.

  Lips latching back onto his collarbone, I licked and sucked as our bodies moved together, making love as if the clothes weren’t between us.

  Moving down, I kissed across his clothed chest, feeling the way his fingers played in my hair as I moved.

  When I made it down to his hips, I glanced up his body, noting the way his chest rose and fell heavily. “I’m taking these off now.”

  He lifted his hips in invitation, and I wasted no time peeling the boxers down his long, lean legs to discard them somewhere across the room.

  His cock bounced up, nearly standing off his flat stomach, glowing in the darkness. Even though I considered Fletcher small, his manhood was not. It was much like his hands, like it waited for the rest of his body to grow into it. His girth was not as wide as mine, but he was strong and beautiful, the tip already glistening with arousal.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, still taking in the part of him no one else had been permitted to see. His thighs were smooth and soft, his balls already drawn tight against his body.

  A whimper above made me look up, my heart tumbling when I saw his flushed cheeks, heavy eyes, and thoroughly kissed lips. He practically vibrated with need and was looking at me to fulfill it.

  “Don’t you ever let anyone else see you like this,” I growled, wrapping my fist around him, enjoying the low hiss from between his lips.

  Every pump of my hand contracted his lower stomach, which was exposed because the shirt had ridden up his body.

  Wanting to see more, I pushed the fabric up around his chest, taking in his narrow waist and soft belly. Pulse hammering with overwhelming love and lust, I leaned down to press a kiss beside his belly button.

  He murmured something incoherent, and I smiled, kissing again, then leaning down to lick over the top of his sensitive head.

  Both of us groaned, him from my tongue and me from his salty taste. Parting my lips, I sank down over him, my heated mouth enclosing his arousal, sinking until my lips nearly hit his base.

  A strangled sound ripped out of him, his body bucking up off the bed. Using my hand, I pinned him down, dragging my lips back up his dick, only to slide back down again.

  When his tip hit the back of my throat, my name fell from his lips, and my heart swelled. Pulling up, I swirled my tongue around his bulbous head, lavishing it with attention and making sure it was good and slick.

  He was breathing heavy when I lifted my head, wrapping my fist around it again and sliding my thumb over his leaking slit.

  Hands gripping the sheets at his hips, he lifted his head, blissed-out eyes finding mine. “Kiss me,” he slurred, releasing the sheets to grab at me.

  When I crawled up his body, we sank into each other, his kisses more eager than ever before. The salty tang on my tongue added another layer to the kiss as his arms slipped around my waist, asking for more of my weight, and I was in no mind to deny.

  The second our bodies touched, we started moving together, hips thrusting, his hot, wet cock pushing up to find mine.

  Fletcher tugged at my waistband, making an impatient sound.

  My boxers joined his in the darkness, and then our overheated bodies met for the first time with nothing between them.

  Gasping, my head dropped onto the pillow above his shoulder, an intense fog of need concealing us from the rest of the world. The silk sheets were cool compared to the burning temperature of our skin, the contrast only heightening my senses.

  Pushing up with one arm, I made just enough room between us for my hand. His cock was silky against mine, still damp from my mouth, offering just enough lubrication for our throbbing rods to slide easily together with sweet satisfaction.

  Grasping us both in one hand, I pumped slowly at first, letting him get used to the feel and rhythm of me. It didn’t take long for his little whines to spur me on, quickening the pace and pressure I used. Heavy breathing and low moans were our only verbal communication as we rode a wave of connection and need, both rocking needily into my hand.

  I loved the way he pulsed and throbbed, the strain in his body growing and growing until he was wound so tight I thought he might snap.

  Despite the trembling of my arm that held me over him, I didn’t stop, instead leaning into his ear to coax. “Come for me, puppy.”

  His breath hitched when he thrust up into my hand one last time. A beautiful low keening sound filled the room as white ribbons of his release shot out, decorating his belly and my hand. I worked him through his orgasm, riding the blissful wave alongside him as he strained and bucked, gasping in between with pleasure.

  When his spent body fell limp against the sheets, I gazed down, seeing the mess he’d made of us both and feeling extremely proud but also very possessive.

  “That’s my good boy,” I murmured, laying my lips against his dampened forehead.

  He smiled softly, eyes fluttering when I lifted my head. “Now you,” he said, thrusting lazily against my still hard erection.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said, leaning in to kiss him again, but he turned his face, denying me.

  “You.”


  Already wound tight and holding myself back, his little plea and blissed-out state was all it took for me to acquiesce. Wincing a little when I shifted back onto my knees (seriously, my arm was numb), I shook out my hand, staring at him hotly while dragging my fingers through the pearly liquid all over his stomach.

  Eyes widening in surprise, he watched as I swirled around and then wrapped the cum-coated fingers around my throbbing length.

  Golden eyes flared. Even in the darkness, I saw how the action affected him, and a low groan vibrated my throat. “So silky,” I whispered, my hand easily sliding along my shaft from his juice. “You feel good, love.”

  I saw his gaze avert. Even completely turned on, he was shy. Reaching for his hand, I wrapped it around my cock, making him gasp.

  Before he could pull away, my hand covered his and started to move. “Help me,” I murmured, leaning over him again to capture his lips.

  The kiss was passionate, my teeth nipping at his lower lip as our hands sped up, bringing me to the very brink.

  Breathing heavily, I dipped my head into his shoulder, and the second his fingers tightened, my own release spilled out all over our hands, mixing with his.

  He kept pumping even when my hand fell away, staying with me, prolonging the pleasure because his touch was just that euphoric.

  When I finally collapsed, my arms slid between him and the mattress, hugging his frame so I could roll, draping him across my chest.

  The only sounds in the room were that of our breathing as we lay in postcoital bliss, my fingers slipping beneath his T-shirt to drag lightly along his spine.

  We hadn’t even had sex, but I was more satiated than probably ever before. The way he responded, the sounds he made, and the way he just let go when I told him to… I was obsessed.

  He was it for me.

  It was him and only him.

  “Fletch,” I murmured, caressing down his spine once more. “Are you okay?”

  When he didn’t answer, all thought of my own bliss blew away, and concern took over. Hooking my hands under his arms, I lifted him a bit, his body like a rag doll when I looked into his face.

  “Fletcher. Are you okay?” I repeated.

  His eyes lifted, awe and fuzziness still in their depths. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “So good.”

  I smiled, relief washing through me like a rainbow brightening up a stormy sky. “So you’re okay.”

  Forehead wrinkling, he said, “How come it’s never like that when I do it?”

  A laugh burst out of me, bouncing around the room. “Puppy,” I said, still laughing.

  He scowled. “Seriously, E. How come it feels better when you do it?”

  All the laughter died, and emotion clogged my throat. “E?”

  He shrugged. “It just came out.” Suddenly self-conscious, he averted his eyes. “Is it okay?”

  “Oh, baby, you can call me whatever you want,” I crooned, snuggling him into my chest once more.

  He tried to wiggle away, but my arms were too tight around him.

  “Baby?” he complained. “No way. Puppy is bad enough!”

  “Puppy.” I corrected, rubbing a hand over his hair.

  Propping his chin on my chest, he gazed up. “Was I—” He paused, self-doubt befalling his features. “Did you like it too?” The second the words were out, he bit down on his lower lip.

  He squeaked when I rolled, pinning him into the mattress with my body. Staring until his eyes reluctantly met mine, I smiled. “You were so perfect.”

  Hopeful eyes widened. “Really?”

  “I promise.”

  A beautiful bright smile spread over his features.

  I love you so much.

  “Come on,” I said, trying not to let emotion pull me under. “Up you go.”

  His arms closed around my neck when I stood and lifted him out of the bed. “Go where?”

  “You made a mess of us. We need to clean up.”

  “You did it too.” He accused me as I carried him to the bathroom.

  I made a sound of agreement. “That’s why I’m coming too.”

  It didn’t take long to clean us both up and dress.

  Just as I was about to tug on a fresh tank, his hand bunched in the material, tugging it away. “Can you leave it off?” he asked, voice small.

  Smiling, I dropped it immediately, drawing him into my bare chest.

  “Better?”

  He nodded, cheek rubbing against my chest.

  Back in bed, we settled under the blankets. This time, Fletch didn’t roll away, allowing me to tuck him into my side with his cheek pillowed on my bare shoulder. One of his long legs pushed between mine, tangling us together, making him sigh contentedly.

  “You make me feel safe,” he confessed quietly in the dark.

  That seemed to be something very important to Fletcher and something he clearly wasn’t used to.

  “Go to sleep now, puppy. I’ll keep you safe.” I assured, tucking him just a little closer.

  I always took care of what was mine, and Fletcher was most definitely mine.

  20

  Fletcher

  * * *

  Happiness was scary.

  Scarier than being alone, more intimidating than misery.

  I didn’t really realize it until now. Until now, I guess I kind of just went along with life, accepting the things I had no power over, learning to live with things I didn’t like.

  Unfairness was just something to be endured, and not being wanted was my fate.

  Being angry about it seemed like a waste of time, so instead of wallowing in the things I didn’t like, I looked at things I did. I let the sound of my violin offer escape, the enclosed area of the subway be my hideaway. But I couldn’t really say I was ever happy. Maybe before, I would have said I was.

  Before I sampled what real happiness tasted like.

  Before Ethan.

  And now?

  Now I was more afraid than ever before.

  That was the about with being a misfit, about never really belonging anywhere or to anyone. It was hard to be afraid when you were already at the bottom, when there was nothing to lose.

  Sure, after I met Neo and my brothers, things were better, but something was always missing. There was always a sense of gnawing loneliness, a part of me always unsettled.

  It had only been a few days since I’d sat on Ethan’s rooftop and he confessed he wanted me. A few days of endless kisses, touches that made me lose my head, and for an entire lifetime of gnawing loneliness to begin to fade.

  I did still feel like something was missing, but the darkness of that wasn’t as black, almost like that feeling would eventually be swallowed up by Ethan too.

  Now happiness didn’t mean enduring.

  Happiness meant the scent of Christmas trees all year round, pancakes, comfortable shoes, silky sheets, and blue eyes that looked at me like I was enough, no matter how empty I was.

  And warmth.

  So much warmth.

  Suddenly, I had something to lose. No. Not something. A lot. I had so much I could lose. The weird feeling always in my stomach was back, but this time, it was worse than before—and this time, I knew the cause.

  Love.

  Fear.

  Loving someone so much so fast and afraid they would turn out to be like everything else in my life: a disappointment.

  I got attached to things easily. I was pretty tenderhearted, which I understood made me weak. Even still, I’d managed to protect myself, probably because if I hadn’t, I’d already be dead.

  But Ethan snuck in. I hadn’t even seen him coming. He was in deep, deeper than anyone else had ever been. Which meant he had a lot of power.

  What if it is too much?

  What if he realizes what she told me all along?

  That I’m nothing. Nothing at all.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just hang at my place today while I’m at work?”
I felt Ethan’s sidelong glance from the driver’s seat, but I didn’t turn to meet his stare.

  Gazing out the window at the grim part of the city, I replied, “No. I haven’t been home in a while.”

  When Ethan said nothing, I spoke again. “You should have just let me take the subway. There was no reason for you to drive me all this way.”

  “If I let you take the subway, I wouldn’t be able to hold your hand right now,” he crooned, smoothly cupping his hand around mine.

  My heart squeezed and an uncomfortable ache tightened my chest, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. His affection meant more to me than probably anyone could ever know.

  Even though it pained me, I still wanted it. Even if I was afraid, he would eventually take it away. I would accept it while it lasted.

  And this was exactly why I needed to go home.

  Without even thinking, I clenched my fingers around his.

  How can he make me feel so scared but also so safe?

  “What are you going to do today?” he asked, pushing our tangled hands farther into my lap.

  It’s like he knows I need him.

  I shrugged, turning back to the window. The sky was dull, not particularly sunny and not particularly dark. The clouds were thick and grayish-white, hovering over everything with somberness. Wind blew, scattering leaves from trees I never saw over the scuffed sidewalks along with the occasional (okay, more than occasional) piece of trash.

  The Grimms seemed like such a long way from where we’d just been. How can two places be so close yet so far apart?

  “I’ll come back and pick you up tonight when I get off work. Probably around seven.”

  “No,” I said, genuinely wanting to say yes but not allowing myself. I needed time. Time to think. To breathe. To learn how to endure this new fear.

  Because really, that’s what I would do. Endure. Because once again, I wasn’t strong enough to walk away.

  Surprised, Ethan whipped his head around to fully glance at me. “No?”

  “Watch out!” I yelled, my entire body tensing, anticipating the collision from the sudden stop in front of us.

  A series of movements happened all at once, Ethan graceful and calm despite my flinching anxiety.