Guard the Crown: The Royal Alphas

by H Q Kingsley

I eased him off of me enough that I could take off my shirt and jacket, baring my chest and back. “You can draw on me,” I offered.

  “I can’t do that,” Zyke murmured. “I…”

  “You can,” I said. “I’m telling you that you can. Just...clear your head, okay? Find a safe place in your mind and just be for a bit. Can you do that for me?”

  His eyes were wide when he looked up at me, but he nodded, biting his lip and taking the pen. “Okay,” he whispered, and he put the pen to my skin and started drawing.

  It was slow and awkward at first, but after a while, he found his rhythm. He laughed to himself, and I smiled at hearing him find a place that made him feel light.

  Occasionally, he’d ask me to guess what he was drawing. I never got it right, which just seemed to make him laugh more. And when he ran out of space on my back, I propped him up to straddle me, so that he could start on my chest.

  Within a few hours, I was covered with ink. My tattoos were filled in with blue pen, along with additions of rainbows and horses.

  Zyke settled himself against my chest, resting his head against the field of flowers he’d drawn across my pec.

  “Feeling better, Peanut?”

  He nodded with a soft hum of contentment as he drifted off to sleep, pen still in hand and pressed to my stomach.

  I took it from him and placed it down before wrapping him in my arms, thankful for the pleasure of simply watching him sleep.

  He was so beautiful, and I couldn’t believe nobody had told him that before. I kissed the top of his head, breathing him in.

  “You’re so perfect, Peanut,” I whispered. “I love you.”

  I was startled when someone barreled into Zyke’s room. One of his brothers...Ezra, if I remembered correctly. It was hard to keep all of them straight, but Ezra had helped me look for Zyke. He was a little less bone-headed than the others, but regardless, he’d caught me in a rather compromising position.

  I was shirtless, covered in pen-drawn pictures, with his nineteen-year-old brother that I was supposed to be bodyguarding propped up and sleeping on my chest. It was incriminating to say the least.

  Ezra paused in Zyke’s doorway, staring at us in a stunned silence before he composed himself and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

  “Um, I didn’t want to...interrupt, just…” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a key, walking it over to me. “Here,” he said.

  I stared skeptically at him. “What’s this?”

  “It’ll open the library. I was going to give it to…” He looked at Zyke and then back at me. “I didn’t know you’d still be in here.”

  I began to shift my weight under Zyke. “You’re right. I know I shouldn’t be, but I…”

  Ezra held up his hand to stop me. “It’s okay. At this point, I’m good at keeping secrets. Just don’t tell my brothers I gave you that, and…”

  I nodded. “Deal.”

  Ezra headed back toward the door but stopped and turned back. “He doesn’t have anybody so...just make sure you look out for him.”

  My brows knitted together as I nodded again. It was unexpected. I’d assumed if one of his brothers found out, it would be a rain of hellfire, not...whatever the hell that was.

  “I’ll always look out for him,” I said, watching as Ezra ducked out of his room.

  12

  Zyke

  Omar filled my mouth with his tongue as he hovered over me on my bed, careful to prop his weight up on his arms so as not to lean it all on me. But I could still feel him, strong and steady over me, the heat from his body enveloping me.

  I reached between us, I could always taste how much he wanted me in our little make out session, but I wanted to feel it. Every time he kissed me, I felt a little bit bolder. A little bit stronger. Like he was transferring some of his bravery into me each time.

  I felt along the outline of his cock through his jeans. I still hadn’t seen it up-close-and-in -person since that first time when we’d met. Omar was so careful, so insistent that we take things slow, but I was dying to have him. I didn’t even really know how to have sex or if I’d be any good at it at all, but dammit, I wanted to do it with him. I wanted to have all of my firsts with him.

  I moaned needily and tried to arch into him as I traced the outline in his pants.

  He nipped at my lips with his teeth. “Ask for what you want, Peanut,” he said.

  My cheeks heated up, but I didn’t look away. I was getting good at that. At looking him in the eye. It sounded stupid, but I’d gone nineteen years with my head bowed and my eyes to the ground.

  “I want...to..do it...with you,” I said breathily.

  Omar arched a brow and gave me a teasing smile. “Do what, exactly?”

  I could feel a blush creeping all the way up to my ears. “You know...it.”

  “If you can’t say it, then you’re not ready for it,” Omar challenged.

  I let out a breath and closed my eyes. “I want to have sex with you,” I blurted, opening my eyes to see how he reacted.

  He grinned down at me and leaned in to give me a long, deep kiss that left me squirming beneath him.

  “Not yet, Peanut,” he said firmly.

  I pursed my lips in a pout. “But you said if I asked…”

  “I said, ‘ask for what you want,’ not that you’d get it. Not tonight.”

  I furrowed my brows, scrunching my face to pout even harder, but Omar was unmoved.

  “What? Kissing me suddenly not good enough for you?” he asked, gently kissing my pouting lips.

  He licked at them before kissing along my jaw and down my neck until he found a spot that tickled me into a smile.

  “No,” I said, reaching out to wrap my arms around his neck. “I like kissing you.”

  “So, then kiss me,” Omar said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me up off the bed a little to press into his body as he kissed me more urgently.

  He sucked the air right out of my lungs, his tongue taking over my mouth.

  I wasn’t sure if he was aware of it, but his hips rocked against me, making my erection rub against his stomach.

  It felt good. Too good. The sensation of his mouth on mine and the friction of his muscled stomach rocking into me was too much.

  I tried to pull back, tried to slow him down for a moment just to catch my breath, but his hold on me was too tight, and I was too far gone.

  I squirmed and moaned, whining as I came pressed against him.

  I could feel the warmth of my seed spreading in my pants, and my whole body flushed with heat and embarrassment. Fuck. Why did this keep happening to me?

  Omar pulled back and stared down between us at the wet spot growing in my jeans.

  I closed my eyes. “I’m sor…” I stopped myself, remembering that I was supposed to stop apologizing so much...but what else was I supposed to do? I’d just come on him...again.

  “I don’t know why this keeps happening,” I finally said, reaching for a pillow to put over my face so that I could hide in shame.

  Omar grinned, grabbing my wrist to stop me from covering my face. He leaned in to kiss me, surprising me as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling on it for a moment before he dipped his head to whisper in my ear.

  “I like that you come so easily for me. When I do have you, I expect you to come like a fountain for me, Peanut.”

  I shivered at his words. He could easily make me come again if he kept talking to me like that. Apparently, I had a hair trigger with him. But he moved from over me, climbing off the bed in one smooth movement.

  I frowned as I watched him walk across the room to my dresser. I missed his warmth, and I felt cold now that he’d take it away.

  I watched him as he fumbled in my pajama drawer before pulling out a pink pair with elephants on it. He tossed them over one of his shoulders before moving to the bathroom for a small towel and crossing the room back to me.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of those and cleaned up,” he s
aid as he moved over to the bed, turning me so that he could remove my pants.

  Omar pulled off my pants, and I resisted the urge to cover myself up. He’s seen me without pants on a few nights now. He insisted on changing me into my pajamas at night before tucking me in, and honestly, I never resisted him. I liked it. It left me feeling...taken care of. And when he took my pants off, he didn’t look down at my knobby knees in disgust, but he kissed them and told me how beautiful I was.

  But tonight was slightly different. He wasn’t just starting down at my scrawny legs, but my cum-soaked underwear, too.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked me, obviously noticing my discomfort.

  “Nothing,” I lied, but he gave me a hard look and I knew I had to tell the truth. “I just...I’m a premature-ejaculating mess, and I’m embarrassed about it,” I confessed.

  “Don’t be.” Omar smiled as he reached out and briefly lifted me off the bed to kiss him before setting me back down. “Do you know how much I like cleaning you up and getting you ready for bed?”

  I shook my head. The truth was, I’d never really thought much about why Omar insisted on changing me. I’d only focused on how much I enjoyed it.

  Omar’s smile widened as he reached to pull off my underwear. I hesitated for a moment because he hadn’t seen me without them on before, and there was a small voice in the back of my head telling me he’d be disappointed. My cock wasn’t nearly as big or impressive as his, not that I’d have known what to do with a big cock if I’d been given it, anyway. It had never been anything I’d really thought about until that moment. Until the moment that the man I was falling hard and fast for was about to see me for the first time.

  “I’m not very big,” I blurted out, reaching to stop him from pulling my underwear down. “I just...don’t want you to be...disappointed.”

  Omar let out a hard breath. “How many times am I going to have to tell you before you believe me, Peanut? You can never disappoint me.” He leaned to kiss my thigh. “You’re perfect.”

  I let out a shaky sigh, moving my hands away so that he could finish undressing me.

  I watched him intently as he took me in. And his reaction was unexpected. He licked his lips, and a familiar hunger flashed in his eyes.

  Watching him made me instantly hard again, and I could feel myself leaking, making even more of a mess for him to clean up.

  He reached for me with the towel, and the moment he made contact with my shaft, I exploded without warning, a warm jet of cum spitting over the towel, his hand, and my thigh.

  I started to apologize, but before I could, he swore.

  “Fuck, Peanut,” he said in a low growl. “You’re so sexy.”

  Sexy? That wasn’t a word I ever expected anyone to use to describe me ever.

  I opened my mouth to utter some sort of response, but it was stuck in my throat as I watched Omar put his hand to his mouth and lick off my cum. Talk about sexy, it was quite possibly the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. And the sound he made, a low, guttural growl of appreciation like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

  My heart raced and I could feel slick pooling at my hole, desperate and ready for him. But I was too stunned to ask him for it, not that it mattered, I already knew the answer. God, he was such a tease.

  He dipped his head to lick at the cum on my thigh, and I jerked up, shivering at the warm touch of his tongue on me.

  My hands curled into fists at my sides as I desperately tried not to come again as I watched him lick me clean.

  When he was satisfied that he’d gotten every drop, he went over me with the towel and slipped me into my pajamas, placing gentle kisses along my body as he covered me.

  “There you go, Peanut,” he said softly as he tucked me into bed.

  I reached out for him. “Will you stay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid that he might say no. After knowing what it was like to fall asleep against his chest, sleeping alone paled in comparison.

  A flicker of indecision flashed in his eyes before he settled into bed next to me, curling me into his arms.

  Before him, I’d never liked how small I always felt, but now, being curled against him, against the massive expanse of his chest, I liked being small. I like how perfectly and fully he enveloped me. Being next to him felt safe. It felt like home.

  After everything, another family meeting was looming ahead of me. The last thing I wanted was to sit in a room with my brothers and father, but as always, I didn’t have a choice.

  At least I could unwind a little before I had to go sit and deal with them all. I was sitting on the floor at Omar’s feet with a book in my lap, and it was the most comfortable and relaxed I could possibly be without my cock in his mouth.

  It was amazing how good Omar was at calming me down. All he had to do was sit there and pet my hair every now and then, and I just melted for him.

  He was the perfect boyfriend, if that was what he was. We hadn’t really talked about it, but that was how things felt even though he still hadn’t fucked me. I was met with an ambiguous ‘soon’ every time I asked, but honestly, I was more than happy with what we had. Whether it was making out with him or him letting me retreat to some childlike place in my mind, he made me feel…right. He’d let me draw on him or climb all over him like a jungle gym; it didn’t matter to him, as long as I was happy.

  There was never any judgement. He never told me to grow up or be more like my brothers. He never called me out for doing silly things. Instead, he met me where I was, taking whatever I wanted to do in stride and encouraging me to do it and not feel guilty or bad about it.

  Every night he changed me into my pajamas and cleaned me up if our makeouts had gotten too intense for me, which was way more often than it probably should have been, but he did it all with a smile before scooping me into his arms to cuddle me to sleep.

  We both knew I was capable of changing myself and tucking myself in, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t about that. I liked it, and Omar liked it. He seemed to enjoy taking care of me, and I really liked having him do it.

  I always slept easier in his arms, snuggling against his broad chest, feeling like someone finally cared about me.

  Omar was keeping his eye on the time so I didn’t have to, and I knew when he stopped stroking my hair, that it was time to go.

  That familiar pit of dread filled my stomach, and I made a face.

  “You ready?” he asked me.

  I sighed, definitely pouting. “No.”

  “Yeah, I figured. But we gotta go anyway.”

  I knew he was right, so I let him help me up off the floor and we walked to the war room to get it over with.

  Usually, I tried to keep quiet during meetings. I let my brothers say what they wanted to say, and if they asked me to speak, then I would say something and they’d make fun of me until they forced me to leave. But there was something different about the way I felt in that meeting.

  Maybe it was my time with Omar, having him encourage me to speak up and tell me that my ideas were good, but I didn’t want to fade into the background. I listened to everything my brothers were saying, openly frowning.

  “‘Epidemic’ is a strong word,” Rehan was saying, gesturing lazily. “So a few of them got sick. That happens. People get sick and they die. I don’t think that makes it a public health scare or whatever the local news is calling it.”

  One of the villages, Drosun, had thirty cases of people coming down with some kind of respiratory issue, which was more than ‘a few people’ being sick if you asked me.

  Of course, no one did, but for the first time in a while, I felt like speaking up.

  “I think they need help,” I said.

  The room fell silent and they all looked at me, but before they could jump in and start talking over me, I kept going.

  “It’s not something our doctors can’t cure, and it’s probably caused by poor working conditions. I’ve seen some of the figures, and I think Drosun has a hi
gh level of buildings that haven’t met code in the last hundred years, even. There might be something in them that’s making the people sick. If we sent a team to investigate—”

  “Do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?” Rehan asked. “It’s just a handful of people. It doesn’t cost anything to leave it alone.”

  “And let them die?” I asked. “When all it would take is some medicine to fix them and then win back some of their respect?”

  Mykel scoffed. “We don’t need their respect, Zyke. They’re poor. A few deaths is an acceptable loss.”

  “If they don’t already appreciate what we give them, what makes you think they’ll stop at demanding medicine?” Avi asked. “First we give them that, and then they’ll think they can have whatever they want.”

  “And what do you think will happen when they start dying?” I jumped in. “They’ll just take it quietly? There’s no acceptable number of deaths if we can prevent them.”

  “If they want to start shit, then we have ways of dealing with that, too.”

  I frowned, my hands clenched in my lap. They talked about people dying like it didn’t matter. Like they were just disposable issues instead of living, breathing people who deserved a chance at life. We had the means to help them, and honestly, it wouldn’t cost that much. And even if it did, we had more than enough money to fund it.

  They just didn’t care. That was what it boiled down to. They only cared about their own agendas and seeming powerful, and even after what had happened in Belaria, they couldn’t see they were doing more harm than good.

  “Did you know there was an epidemic in Belaria?” I asked them, glancing around the table. “Years ago. It wiped out a good number of people, and even those who got better never fully recovered enough to live normal lives. Their children got sick and their friends died, and the kingdom did nothing to help them. It was listed as one of the reasons the people revolted. Because they were dying, their families were dying, and no one cared.”

  Rehan slammed his hands down on the table and glared at me. “I’ve had enough of your mouth, Zyke,” he snapped. “You do the least of any of us to help keep shit going around here, and then you stroll in and think you can tell us how things should be run?”