Ky looks back at him for a solid minute, as if weighing this. Then, without ceremony, he stands up, unlaces his trousers, and lets them fall.
His naked body is so simultaneously intimidating and intoxicating that I don’t know if I should hide or if I want to start rubbing up against him. His body is strong, muscled, as expected for a soldier, and his erect cock reaches his abdomen. No wonder it felt aggressive to grab it. It feels aggressive tolookat it. I can’t stop staring.
“Now what?” says the king, and his voice is challenging. Asher’s chest is rising and falling against my back, and I realize he’s also staring, just like I am.
Maybe a man’s naked body is always intimidating and intoxicating.
“Sit,” Asher finally says, pointing to the bench. When Ky obeys, Asher lets go of me to situate some of the pillows and cushions on the ground around him. Then he kneels close, puts his hands on the king’s knees, and parts his legs.
Ky draws a sharp breath, but he reaches out to put a hand against Asher’s chest, just below his throat. Half catching him, half stopping him. A gleaming bead appears at the tip of his cock, and my heart skips.
Asher’s eyes flick up. “Let me go.” His shoulders are tight again, his voice just as challenging as the king’s was. “Jory wants to know how to pleasure a man.”
But the king doesn’t let him go. He just strokes his thumb along Asher’s neck until my friend sighs. His head drops. Hesoftens.
Like before, the king’s voice goes very low, very quiet. “Asher. Doyouwant to?”
At that, Asher looks up at him steadily, as if surprised by the question. For a moment, some of his easy confidence falters, but he nods—then hesitates. Swallows.
The king runs his finger along his neck again. The purr of his accent is so gentle. “Tell me.”
“I do.” Asher’s voice goes so small, so soft. “But don’t...don’t touch me. During. Please.”
My heart aches. “Asher.”
“I won’t.” Ky’s hand falls away from his neck. “But you don’t have to—”
“I said Iwantto.” Then he leans forward, takes the base of Ky’s cock in his hand, and runs his tongue in a slow drag up the length.
The king hisses a breath that nearly ends in a yelp. I watch his hands curl into fists against the stone of the bench.
Asher sits back. “There,” he says to me. “Start with that.”
My eyes go wide.
“Fuck,” says Ky. “You’re going to do it at the sametime?”
“Yes,” says Asher, and Ky’s fists grip tighter.
I’m more tentative, more hesitant—but I remember the way the king gripped my hand around him. Like a weapon, not a flower. So I take the weight of him in my hand, and it makes me shiver. Warm, like the rest of him. Asher moves close, his hand wrapping around mine, his forearm against my own. The skin is so soft, like velvet under my palm.
“Slow.” Asher’s voice is a rough rasp against my ear. “Take your time.”
I’m a little afraid, but Asher did it like it was nothing. When I lean forward and touch my tongue to the king’s cock, I’m rewarded with the same hissing breath. I’m startled by the salty taste of the tip, and it makes me jump, just a little.
When I sit back, letting go, Asher moves close and strokes the length of him again. This time he takes the tip into his mouth, sucking gently.He’sslow, taking his time, only going halfway down, but lingering at the tip before he lets go. Ky’s eyes have gone dark, his gaze hot and possessive as he looks down at us both. Seeing it makes my insides go taut.
I try to follow Asher’s lead, but Ky is bigger than I thought. I expected velvet in my mouth, but this is just warm, smooth. I was prepared to find the feel of it odd, or somehow repellent, but it’s not. Not at all. I pull him deeper into my mouth, relishing the sound of his deepening breath.
When I come loose, I’m still uncertain. But his eyes find mine, and the look on his face almost takes my breath away. It’s not just reverence. It’s gratitude. Admiration. Wonder. Desire.
“Good?” I whisper.
“Better than good, Princess.”
Then Asher takes him in his mouth again, and Ky’s eyes clench closed. His fingers scratch along the stone of the bench, and his throat jerks as he swallows. “Fuck. Areyoucompeting—”
He breaks off as Asher goes down farther, one hand coming up to grip between his legs, his fingers cupping him, drawing at the heavy weight of his testicles. Whatever he does makes the king’s breath catch, and his legs spread a bit wider. Ky’s hand almost lifts, almost reaches, but he catches himself, clamping it down on the bench.
