I run my hand over my face. On top of all of this, there is no point in ignoring the bombshell Llywelyn dropped on me yesterday. He doesn’t want the throne.
It changes everything, and nothing.
I have to get him to see he can’t just tell The Agency, ‘No thank you.’ They won’t let him walk away. Neither will Prys.
But even once Llywelyn understands he can’t back out, his reluctance will shape the entire game.
What a hopeless mess.
Tae scurries in and takes the tray away. I open my mouth to say Llywelyn hasn’t finished his dessert, but I decide to let it go. It really is the least of our worries.
Llywelyn sighs heavily. “I’m bored.”
My eyebrow rises. I’m sure he is bored. He has been in bed for two days. But he is also upset. He is not daft. He probably understands the implications of what Dyfri just told him, every bit as much as I do.
The poor boy just died. He never gets a break.
“You’re not allowed out of bed yet,” I say.
He pouts at me. A full lifting of the lips. He looks adorable. As well as extremely fuckable. And that’s an excellent idea.
I grin. “I suppose, if you promise to keep very, very still, I could entertain you.”
He deserves a bit of pampering. A distraction. Cheering up. Really, it is the very least I can do.
His eyes grow dark, and pink colours his cheeks.
I chuckle and step closer to the bed. He lies back against the pillows and watches me like a hawk.
I work swiftly. First, I pull back the quilts covering him. Then, I lift up his nightgown. Next, I steal one of the many plump pillows and wriggle it into position under his ass.
Finally, I lie down on my stomach, positioned between his legs. He is already breathing in sharp short bursts. His pretty cock is already hard.
My palms rest against the soft, smooth skin of his inner thighs. Gently I coax his legs wider apart, and up a little.
I’m grinning so hard my face is hurting. I know damn well he is assuming I’m about to blow him.
My tongue rasps over his pretty pink hole and he squeals. It is music to my ears. My veins are thrumming with delight.
If nobody has ever kissed him before. Or blown him, I’m willing to bet my substantial life savings that no one has ever done this to him before.
I’m going to blow his mind and rock his world. It is going to be marvellous.
My tongue runs over the sensitive skin around his hole and he gasps in response. He already sounds blown away.
I lift my head up to look at him. “Is this okay?”
He nods so enthusiastically that it makes me chuckle. My sweet, sweet boy.
I lick again, and he makes another beautiful noise. It sinks into me and wraps around my soul. Lust, passion, desire, all soar to full velocity. My thoughts fall silent. My mind is peaceful.
My tongue is flicking, licking. Swirling. Broad strokes over him. Quick darts around his rim. Llywelyn is whimpering and moaning. His hips twitching as he desperately fights to be a good boy and stay still like I told him to.
I nuzzle deeper into his soft flesh. My face is buried in his ass cheeks. I love it. His delicious scent is everywhere. I’m bathing in it.
His puckered skin has softened. Relaxed. His hole is fluttering in an invitation I cannot resist. I stiffen my tongue and slip inside him. He gasps and his hips buck. It’s only my hands that hold him down and keep him in place. I have driven him to lose all control.
I fuck him with my tongue. Going as deep as I can. As fast as I can. My soft, warm, wet tongue thrusting past his rim over and over again. Far faster than I can go with my cock. The friction tempered by the softness of my tongue.
