So I stop with my hand against his neck, my thumb right in that hollow under his jaw. “You are not my prisoner, Asher. You are free to stay, just as you are free to leave. But no one will take you away from her. No one will take her away from you. Certainly not me.” I lean in, letting him hear the righteous conviction in my voice. “You arefree. But if this is where you choose to remain, know this:no onewill take you away from me.”
He stops breathing again. His eyes fix and lock on mine.
I run a thumb across his chin, barely touching his lower lip. “Rest assured, I know how to go to war.”
He’s simply staring, so I lean in and brush my mouth over his.
It’s the first time I’ve kissed him, and he responds so softly, his lips barely brushing mine, his breath light and sweet as he withdraws.
He whispers, “It must have beenreallygood if you’re offering to go towar.”
It makes me laugh in spite of myself. But then I’m thinking of his mouth again, the slow drag of his tongue, the way he looked to the princess and encouraged her to follow his lead. And then the longer time, the moment he lingered, the way he pushed a finger inside me and I nearly pulsed right into his throat.
I blink and he’s watching me, his eyes so dark.
“Do you want me to do it again?” he says softly.
Yes.
I almost say it—because I’m already hard, just hearing him offer.But I realize this is a different kind of fighting for him. A different kind of challenge.
“No,” I say, and I stroke my hand through his hair. I consider the way he reacted when I brushed a finger across his nipple, so I do it again. “Do you want me to do it to you?”
His breath catches, and he shivers, and I don’t know if it’s from my hand or from the question. He shifts closer to me, almost unconsciously, pressing himself into my hip.
But then he tucks his face against my shoulder. It’s not a refusal—but it’s not a clear assent, either.
I pinch his nipple between my fingers and he grunts, almost thrusting against me. There’s a desperate sound to it. A wanting sound. But I also hear the fear underneath. It must be torture to live like this, to go without touch, to fear the motive of anyone who offers it even in the simplest way. I have no idea how he hid it from the princess for so long.
Actually—maybe I do. Her innocence is likely the only armor he has.
“Take yourself in hand,” I whisper along his temple. “I’ll hold you.”
I don’t think he’ll do even this, but I’ve barely said the words before the cord is pulled and his cock is free. He strokes himself against my thigh.
The princess is so guileless that I have to guard my words, because I don’t want to shock her or frighten her—at least not until she’s a bit more experienced. But this is one thing I don’t need to fear with Asher.
I press a bit closer and drop my voice, speaking right against his skin. “When you’re ready, I’ll do that for you, Asher. Perhaps I could be the one to give the princess a lesson. You could tell me what you think of my mouth.”
He gasps against my shoulder.
I stroke a hand along his neck, tracing a line across his chest. “I rather liked what you did with your finger,” I say. I let my voice go husky. “That’s a trick I could show the princess. She certainly seemed to like it when you did it toher.”
He makes a small sound. His hand accelerates.
“Maybe you wouldn’t want to finish in my mouth,” I say. “Maybeyou’d like to push Jory down against the bed. I saw the way you pulled her apart. I know you want to fill her up.”
“Fuck,” he gasps. A sheen of sweat has broken out on his shoulders. “Fuck.”
I stroke a hand down his side, pressing my fingers into his hip. “Or maybe you’re the one who wants to be pushed down against a bed,” I whisper. “Maybe you don’t want my mouth. Maybe you just want me to fuckyou.”
He grunts hard and bites down on my shoulder, almost whimpering as he comes, jerking himself hard until he’s done.
And then, to my surprise, it’s his breath that’s hitching, his eyes that are suddenly gleaming.
Bleeding skies.
I pull him close, kissing his temple, his cheek, his neck. “Hush, lovely,” I say, a little bit teasing, but very much not. I smooth his hair. “Hush.”
