“I can’t what?” he said at last, and lifted his head. His eyes practically bored holes in me, glittering copper and black. “Marry you. You want me to marry you. The queen said, fuck, I thought she was just needling you, talking about a wedding!”
Swallowing down the thick lump in my throat hurt like hell. “Why do you think she wants to give you a title? It was her idea, not mine, she’s thinking ahead. But if you never want to, we’ll never mention it again. I promise.”
He blinked, stared at me, blinked again, and finally shook his head, looking more than a little dazed.
“Marry you,” he said again. The corner of his mouth twitched. “If I married you, I could do any gods-damned thing I wanted to you, couldn’t I? It’s not treason when you hold your own husband down and turn him inside out.”
“Oh, gods,” I choked, as all the blood in my body rushed to my cock and my hole clenched, desperate to have him do exactly that. “I don’t think that’s in the high priest’s homily on the purpose of marriage, though!”
“Probably not.” He lowered himself down onto the elbow of his braced arm, pressing me deeper into the cushions of the chaise, heavy and hard. “But it’s still a little bit treasonous right now, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” I said, tipping my head back, because he thrust gently, pushing his thick cockhead against my hole, and even through several layers of clothing he felt so big, so perfect. “Yes.”
“Good. I want a few more chances to ruin my prince’s sweet little ass before I marry you and make it legal.” He latched onto my throat, nipping my skin, flicking me with his tongue, ruining me before he’d even gotten my clothes off, and I writhed under him, whimpering. “Tell me you love me,” he said. “Tell me again.”
“Make me,” I gasped.
His hand replaced his mouth, wrapping around my throat lightly, massaging me, as he pushed himself upright and began to tear at the buttons of my trousers with the other. The little smile that’d been playing around his lips blossomed into a wicked grin, toothy and predatory. I shivered and went still.
“Your wish is my command, Your Highness,” he said, very low. “As long as you want me, I’m yours.”
“You’re all I want. Now show me, unless you’re all talk.”
Andreas laughed, and leaned in to kiss the hollow of my throat, and I moaned and spread my legs. He moved down, lower and lower, kissing every inch. As he bent his head, I saw the last of the sunset gilding the vines climbing over my balcony. Such a beautiful world.
“Yes, please,” I whispered, as he pulled my trousers down, mouthing along my inner thigh.
Then I couldn’t remember anything but his name, and three other little words that I repeated over and over again as he moved over me, in me, showing me how much we belonged to each other.
And that was all the magic I needed.
The End
