Prince

by Cambria Hebert

  A low moan deep in his throat had me pulling him closer, the kiss turning more demanding. His eagerness endeared me as if he forgot to be shy when our mouths were fused. He kissed with abandon, retreating only when he wanted me to take control.

  Rolling, I pinned him under me, my fingers slipping beneath the T-shirt to stroke over his chest and belly.

  His small cry when I plucked at his hardened nipple had me back on his mouth again, slashing my lips over his with ownership I hoped left him branded.

  Hands went everywhere. Hips started to thrust. The drag of his fingernails down either side of my spine made me shudder.

  He was hard and hot against my stomach. I felt his heat even through his boxers. Pulsing need and the insatiable urge to claim took over, and it wasn’t until he whimpered that I realized I had his underwear pushed down and his leaking cock in my hand.

  A very low swear dropped from my lips as I tried to rein in some control. I wanted to take him again so badly, but it was just too soon. I didn’t know his condition this morning, and I wouldn’t risk hurting him by having sex again.

  “Don’t stop.” He urged, thrusting into my fist.

  How I adored his flushed cheeks, rumpled hair, and seeing those marks I’d left all over the side of his neck.

  At this point, stopping wasn’t physically possible, the need between us just too strong to deny.

  The sound of alarm he made when I moved off him to the side made me smile. “Easy, puppy. I know what you need.”

  So pliant, I thought proudly when I was able to move him into position with barely any effort at all.

  With Fletcher on his side, I spooned behind him, bringing our bare bodies flush. A low hiss filled the room when he wiggled back into my erection, making my toes curl.

  His ass was round and soft. The warmth against my dick made me shudder.

  Reaching around, I grasped his length, enjoying the way it jerked in my hold. Giving it a few light strokes, I relished his body arching with a sinful moan.

  “Good boy,” I crooned, nipping his ear and smoothing the light bite with my tongue. “You’re my good boy.”

  His breath huffed out at my praise, his hand reaching down to encircle my wrist.

  He writhed restlessly against me. His whimpers and wiggles made me near insane. When I released his throbbing length, he tried to pull me back, but I denied my hand.

  “Be a good boy.” I warned with just a bit more demand in my tone.

  He went still, though I felt the need making him quiver. As a reward for his obedience, I kissed his shoulder before sliding my palm between his legs.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he gazed at me in question.

  “We’re gonna do it like this because I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” he whined, tempting me with his round, bare ass against my groin.

  I made a stern sound, and his teeth sank into his lower lip, big doe eyes looking to me for forgiveness.

  Unable to resist, I laughed low in my throat, leaned down, and kissed away his worry.

  “I’m gonna use your thighs,” I whispered, adjusting so my throbbing cock was sandwiched between his smooth, warm legs.

  The pressure of that alone made me groan as I thrust against him.

  He made a low noise, thrusting back against me, offering more friction. Two of my fingers pressed against his kissable lips, tapping for permission. “Suck.”

  Lips parting immediately, he tugged both my fingers in, wrapping his tongue around them.

  Groaning, I thrust again, the feel of him around my dick and my fingers a sinful combination. “Make them wet,” I murmured, hips snapping forward again.

  He worked my fingers so well I briefly considered pulling them out and replacing them with my cock, but I decided to save that activity for another day. Feeling my fingers good and saturated, I pulled them away, only to have his tongue chase after them.

  “Kiss.” I beckoned, and he came eagerly, our mouths molding together only to break apart when my wet fingers slid along his still-hard dick.

  His head fell on the pillow, body arched again. Anchoring him close, I began stroking him to the rhythm of my thrusts, both of us panting and moaning in tune.

  When his body went taut, I thumbed his slit and tightened my grip around the sensitive area near his head.

  He came undone that instant, his hot, pulsing dick spilling all over my hand and the sheets.

  He was still pulsing when my own thrusts became sloppy as I chased the orgasm just barely out of reach… There.

  With a low shout, I came, pumping into him even as I jerked, making a mess out of his perfect thighs.

  At last, we both came down from the high, our bodies sticking together with sweat and release.

  I felt the rapid rise and fall of his back against my chest, and I gently released his cock to hug him into the center of my body.

  “Good?” I asked against his ear.

  “Mmm.” His head bobbed. One of his hands found and curled around one of mine. “Next time, I want you inside me, though.”

  My smile was fast and wide. When I gave him a loud kiss against his neck, he giggled. “I have to make sure you’re okay before I’m inside you again.”

  “I told you I’m okay,” he demanded, laughter gone from his voice.

  “Not until I’m sure.”

  “I know my own body.” He scolded, pushing into a sitting position.

  His wince was not missed by either of us. Face falling, a sheepish expression took over.

  I sat up, pulling him into my arms, offering to take his weight. Very gently, I caressed his lower back.

  “Maybe I am just a little sore.”

  Kissing his temple, I smiled. “How about a shower and breakfast in bed?”

  Pulling back, he asked, “Don’t you have to work out? Go to the office?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t, and I’m going in late.”

  His eyes went round. “Really?”

  “I’d rather be here with you.”

  Launching forward, he flung himself into my chest, arms winding around my shoulders to squeeze. I couldn’t help but laugh. The pressure in my heart was almost too much to bear.

  Slipping out of bed, I considered pulling on the boxer briefs but decided against it, choosing instead to just walk around to carefully place the kitten on the floor before reaching down to lift Fletch into my arms.

  The tiny animal rubbed against my ankle as I cradled him against my chest.

  “I can walk,” he protested, but it was weak considering the way he snuggled in close.

  I carried him into the shower, turning on all the controls before standing him out of reach of the spray.

  When I was sure he was, in fact, steady on his feet, I ruffled his hair. “I’ll shower off in the other bathroom and then bring up breakfast.”

  “Why in the other bathroom?” He complained.

  Dragging my eyes up and down his naked, lean frame, I let my stare linger on the love bites I’d littered over his pale skin, feeling the sudden urge to create even more.

  Ears red, Fletcher glanced down and gasped. “Did you do that?” he said, pointing at the mark on his stomach.

  “Mmm.” I agreed. “And this one.” I pointed to his inner thigh, then up to his collarbone and neck. “These too.”

  His hand slapped over his neck and the other on his thigh. “Ethan!”

  A warm, throaty chuckle rose around us with the steam. Sliding closer, I leaned down so we were eye level. “You wear those marks so prettily, my good boy,” I crooned. All the embarrassment on his face shifted into something much hotter. “You wear them so good that if I stay in here for a second longer, I’m gonna mark you up even more.”

  His little shriek was punctuated by the way he splashed over the floor to hide under the spray. Water dripped over his nose, cascading over his chest when he finally looked back.

  I winked.

  He flushed.

  We both knew damn well he
’d let me mark him up all over again, and both of us would enjoy it.

  28

  Fletcher

  * * *

  “I’m calling her Gwen,” I announced when Ethan let himself into the bedroom a short while later.

  “Gwen?” he asked, halting partway across the room, hands filled with treats that made me realize how starved I was.

  “Is that Kismet?” I jumped up, racing over to reach for the familiar paper cup.

  “Ah-ah.” He scolded, holding it out of reach. “What first?”

  I crooked my finger for him to lean down. Instead, he just lifted an eyebrow.

  “I’m sore.” I pouted.

  Tenderness filled his entire face, and my heart performed a summersault. Bending at the waist, he lowered, turning his cheek in my direction.

  Smiling in triumph, I bounced forward, lips smacking against his freshly shaven cheek.

  Truth? I really wasn’t that sore. I just wanted to see if he would come to me.

  Kiss delivered, he handed over the Kismet cup, the unmistakable scent of their rich hot chocolate hitting my senses and making me drool.

  Tilting it to my lips, I took a big drink. Whipped cream and chocolate burst over my tongue… and so did pain.

  “Ow!” I wailed, pulling it down. “Hot!”

  Making a sound, Ethan set aside everything to grasp my face and tap his finger against my lips. I was instantly transported to when we were in bed just a little while ago and the way I’d sucked his thick fingers into my mouth.

  His deepening expression told me he knew exactly where my mind went, but instead of playing, he cleared his throat and tapped again. “Let me see.”

  I stuck my tongue out. He studied it.

  Leaning in, he kissed it quickly before declaring, “You’ll be okay. Be careful.”

  The next sip I took was much more cautious and also under his watchful blue gaze. Dropping down on the floor, legs tucked beneath me, I stroked down the kitten’s thin back.

  She was gobbling up the plate of food I’d given her when I’d finished showering.

  “Gwen?” Ethan asked, turning back to the paper bag he’d set aside. “Kind of an odd name for a cat, don’t you think?”

  “No!” I declared, completely offended. Leaning forward, I stroked her again. “Just ignore him, Gwennie. He doesn’t know.”

  “C’mon, off the floor so we can eat.”

  “I’m eating with Gwen.” I sniffed, turning my attention to the incredibly rich, warm hot chocolate.

  I really expected him to argue. To use that commanding tone, I seemed to be unable to deny.

  He didn’t. Instead, he sat down, mirroring my sitting position.

  I nearly gaped as he sipped at his drink, which was probably coffee without enough creamer.

  Noting my unbelieving expression, he smiled. “I told you, puppy. Anywhere you go, I’ll go too.”

  I took another sip so it would keep me from blurting out words I felt but wasn’t ready to say.

  “So why not Mittens or Snowflake or Fluffy?” he asked as if telling me he would follow me all around was just some passing comment that didn’t make me want to blurt out how much I loved him.

  But it was a good distraction.

  Making a face, I lowered the mug. “Lame,” I muttered. “Don’t you know who Gwen is?”

  “Should I?” he asked, eyes thoughtful and cup paused partway to his lips.

  I held out one hand palm up. “Spider-Man’s first love?”

  “I thought Spider-Man was in love with Mary Jane.”

  Smacking my forehead, I made an insufferable sound. “But before Mary Jane, there was Gwen. She died.”

  He frowned. “I don’t recall that.”

  “You haven’t seen The Amazing Spider-Man?” I practically yelled.

  Gwen stopped eating and looked up.

  “You’re going to give her a stomach ache.” I scolded Ethan.

  “My apologies,” he told the cat. Then to me, “The last Spider-Man I saw was with Tobey Maguire.”

  I was completely offended, and I shook my head sadly.

  “And I saw him in one of the newer Avengers movies.”

  “You missed the best two Spider-Man movies made. Andrew Garfield made the best Spider-Man ever.”

  “And Gwen was in those movies?”

  My head bobbed.

  “Well, if we’re going to have a cat named after her, I guess I need to watch them.”

  We. If we are going to have a cat.

  A feeling of homesickness washed over me, making my arm wrap around my middle. I stared at Gwen, unblinking, grip on the paper cup a bit tighter than before. This wasn’t a feeling I knew very well, and it was a feeling I didn’t really like. I’d only known it once before when I stayed at the Christmas tree stand I worked at last year for two nights.

  It was somehow foreboding and wishful all at once. Wishful because I wanted to be here with him, and when he talked that way, it made it seem like he wanted it too. But the insecurity in me couldn’t completely let go, and it whispered not to get too used to this because he would eventually realize I wasn’t good enough.

  “Fletch?” His voice was accompanied by gentle fingers just beneath my chin. Blinking, I looked away from the kitten to Ethan who slid closer to me.

  I offered him a small smile.

  “How about we have a talk?”

  Without waiting for me to answer, he straightened, picking me up off the floor to head toward the bed.

  “But it’s messy!” I fussed.

  “I changed the sheets.”

  Eyeing the bed, I noted it did seem freshly made. “How many sets of sheets do you have?” I wondered.

  His smile was quick. “Not enough if we’re going to be making a mess of them every night.”

  “Every night!” I gasped, neck and ears on fire.

  He paused, holding me at the side of the bed. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “Oh, are you tired of me already?”

  He was teasing, but I didn’t like the words. They hit a little too close to home.

  Averting my gaze, I spoke low. “It’s you who’s gonna get tired of me.”

  His gentle noise brought my chin up, but it was the sincerity in his blue gaze that held my attention. “I won’t.”

  After setting me in bed, Ethan retreated to get the large brown bag with the Kismet logo on the side.

  Scooting toward the center and leaning against the headboard, I asked, “How did you have time to change the sheets, shower, and go to Kismet for breakfast?”

  “The sheets only took a moment, and I had Kismet brought to us.” Ethan tugged the lid off a black container and handed over a huge croissant filled with eggs, bacon, and cheese.

  Once it was in my hands, he set a white paper sack beside me with a giant blueberry muffin inside.

  “Ooh!” I exclaimed, propping the sandwich in my lap to pull out the muffin and take a huge bite out of its top. A little groan of satisfaction broke free around my chewing.

  Smiling, Ethan settled beside me, tugging up the blankets before leaning over to brush a crumb from my lower lip. After another huge bite, I held it out to him, but he shook his head. “Eat some of your sandwich. It has protein.”

  I took another huge bite of the muffin. It was the best muffin ever.

  Ethan’s container was filled with scrambled eggs mixed with some vegetables and other stuff. He did have some bacon, though, so that made up for the veggies.

  We ate in comfortable silence before Ethan set aside his fork. “Do you want me to lift the blinds so you can look out over the city?” Palming the little remote, he aimed it toward the windows.

  Laying my hand over it, I pushed it down. “No.”

  His expression turned quizzical. “I thought you loved the view.”

  “I do. But right now, I’m looking at you.” I admitted, feeling shy.

  The remote disappeared, and the blinds stayed shut, hiding us from the rest of the world. Leaning into the sp
ace between us, Ethan kissed me slow and soft.

  Hints of his coffee, my hot chocolate, and blueberry flavored the kiss, but it was still distinctly ours. The way my stomach fluttered and dipped, the way my head buzzed emptily, and the unmistakable way his tongue slowly twisted with mine as though he didn’t care if we ever untangled.

  It didn’t matter we’d had each other last night and then again this morning. Need still thrummed between us, clinging in the air, sticking to my skin, and making me melt just a little closer into his lips.

  As we disconnected gradually, his shuddering breath fanned over my damp lips while his palm cupped the side of my neck. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  “I might have some idea,” I whispered, bumping my nose against his.

  “I just want to protect you from everything. Even from me.”

  Pulling back, I bounced my eyes between his. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to tell you some things about me. Will you listen?”

  My head bobbed.

  He swallowed thickly, moving his plate aside. “I probably should have said something before we… well, before last night.”

  Nerves coiled in my stomach, and fear slammed into me so hard I rocked back, nearly knocking over my cup.

  “Ah!” I fussed, lunging to catch it before it spilled. The container on my lap slipped free, though, landing on the sheets. I started to tremble, a mass of nervous energy and dread settling onto my shoulders like the heaviest of weights.

  “I-I spilled it.” I worried, tucking the cup into my chest and reaching for the upturned container.

  “Hey, it’s all right,” he crooned, taking care of the mess in a second flat. When he reached for the cup, I surrendered it, suddenly sorry because now there was nothing left to do with my quivering hands.

  “Why are you so scared?” His voice was gentle as though he were talking to a frightened animal. I wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t soothing, because it was. The next thing I knew, I was in his lap, my back supported by his chest, his back against the headboard.

  I felt surrounded by him with his cheek pressing against the side of my head and lips close to my ear. “Calm down, puppy. I’m not gonna say anything that terrible, okay? It’s all right. I’m here.”