“It’s going to be fine,” I state, and it is not a lie. “We are not running away to a cottage in the woods. You are still going to be crown prince, and I’m still going to put you there.”
His frown lines fade, and his eyes grow wide and dark. That’s more like it. That’s what I want to see.
I draw in a hasty breath. “You are going to stay cunning and ruthless, and I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” My words sound like a vow. A promise. And that’s more than fine because I have never meant anything more.
Llywelyn stares at me. His yellow hair is nearly falling into his eyes and it is taking all my willpower to not tenderly brush it back. I want him to listen. To comprehend and understand. I don’t want to distract him.
He licks his lips. “The way things are between us… Will be our secret?”
My eyes scrunch up as my lungs constrict. Pure physical agony lances through me. Burning and intense. I don’t want to be anything like Iestyn. But like so often in my life, there is no choice.
“Yes,” I wheeze outweakly.
“Fuck me,” says Llywelyn.
It takes me a moment to realise he is not using that phrase as an expression. Llywelyn is not swearing about our situation. He is stating a request.
My eyes snap open. “Right now?”
He nods solemnly. “Yes. I want to feel you.”
My gaze searches his. Eyes are the windows to the soul, so they say. Is he serious? Is he in his right mind? Is he simply saying what he thinks I want to hear?
His ethereal face is calm. There is genuine lust smouldering in his eyes. He is speaking the truth.
Immediately, as soon as I register that Llywelyn truly does want me, right now, my arousal flares to life and my cock begins to swell. I like sex. I really like sex. And I like Llywelyn, really like him. Sex with Llywelyn is like combining my two favourite things.
Llywelyn smiles softly at whatever expression I’m wearing. He rolls onto his back.
“I prepared myself while you were sleeping.”
I blink in astonishment. Part of me thinks that is the hottest thing I have ever heard. Another, far more sensible part of me, is deeply, deeply alarmed that he can do such a thing without waking me.
I peel back the covers. I didn’t decide to. It just happened. I guess my horny side is in full control. I can’t say I mind all that much.
My gaze drops down. Llywelyn is naked. Fully, gloriously nude. Every inch of his perfect body on proud display.
Hastily, I wriggle out of my pyjama trousers and fling them on the floor. In almost the same movement, I roll on top of Llywelyn. Nestling myself between his spread legs.
He looks up at me with a heated gaze. I swallow dryly. If this is my future, I’m all for it. Silken sheets and Llywelyn taking my cock. There are worse ways to live.
I line my hard cock up and push into him, holding his gaze all the while. His eyes swirl. Pleasure and awe as he feels me enter his body. I groan as I slide into him. Satin and heat and pressure.
I ease all the way in, not stopping until I am balls deep in my prince. Fully sheathed. Our bodies joined.
Then I move. I flip us over so that I’m on my back on the bed and he is sitting on top of me. Gravity, the movement, and the physiology of this new position, means he sinks even deeper and my cock reaches further than it ever has before.
He gasps and I place my hands on his hips to steady him. He breathes heavily as he adjusts, and then his eyes clear.
“Do you know how to do this?” I rumble.
His cheeks flush a very pretty pink and he nods almost shyly. Delight surges through me. My hands fall away from his hips.
“Show me then, pretty boy.”
He bites his bottom lip for a moment, and then he moves. Sensation explodes within me. My mind whites out. Oh lord, I’m going to die. An image flashes of the very first moment I laid eyes on Llywelyn. He was on that hell beast and it reared up and Llywelyn maintained his seat flawlessly. My boy really does know how to ride.
I’m not surprised. There is grace in all of his movements. Even when he is drunk. I’d love to see him dance, it must be spectacular.
