“I know you can, but allow me this.”
They’d traveled together long enough for Soren to know Vanya was prone to demands rather than asking for permission. He supposed it came with being a prince.
Soren wouldn’t know.
Couldn’t know.
And there was a choice here, Soren knew. He should abide by his duty as a warden and not get mixed up with matters of state. But if that were the case, then he should have left Vanya by the wayside days ago.
Soren didn’t blink as he parted his lips and allowed Vanya to feed him the berry. Vanya’s fingers lingered against his lips for a second as he chewed before the prince pulled them away. Soren had barely finished swallowing before a different fruit was brought to his mouth, and he allowed himself to eat that one, too.
There were vegetables dipped in hummus, sweet dates, and small pieces of spiced meat. Toasted flatbread dipped in yogurt, fried balls of grain, and a flaky pastry layered with honey and nuts rounded out the rest of the offering. The last one had Soren chasing after Vanya’s fingers, unable to stop himself from licking traces of honey off the prince’s skin, forgetting his place.
Soren froze, staring up into Vanya’s eyes, aware of the ache in his cock that had crept up on him through the intimate gesture of being fed by hand. Before he could jerk back, Vanya curled his fingers beneath Soren’s chin, thumb pressing down over his bottom lip. When Soren flicked his tongue out, he could still taste honey.
Vanya’s gaze darkened, and it was, perhaps, unsurprising when he said, “I would have you like this.”
Soren let his head fall back against the edge of the pool, staring up at the prince. “You’re getting married.”
“I’m not marrying for love. It’s a contract for an heir. I expect my future wife to indulge in courtesans the same way I do.”
He said it casually, as if sex was less politically fraught than it was in the north. Perhaps it was, Soren could concede. The southern empire was far less sexually constrained than some countries.
“That’s probably not the best way to learn to trust her in your marriage bed.”
“Nicca is the granddaughter to thevezirof the House of Kimathi. She is heir after her mother. If you know Solarian history, you know there is little trust between our Houses.”
“And you think you’ll build any by fucking other people?”
Vanya’s mouth quirked at the corners, as if he thought Soren’s words humorous. “I think you shouldn’t concern yourself with matters of state.”
Soren arched an eyebrow and gestured at the space between them that had grown smaller. “It’s a little late for that.”
Vanya trailed his fingers over Soren’s jaw, down his throat, to settle on the hard line of his collarbone. His touch was warm, and Soren went still. “Then tell me what you wish as payment, and we shall consider our business concluded.”
It wasn’t that easily decided and cast aside. Wardens weren’t paid in such a way. The Poison Accords didn’t allow it.
“I can’t,” Soren confessed. “It’s not my place. I keep telling you that you owe me nothing.”
Vanya hummed thoughtfully before leaning down, lips brushing against Soren’s in a touch that made his gut tighten in anticipation he had no right to feel. “I’ll decide what I owe, not you.”
Soren should have turned his head aside, should have slid away across the smooth stone bench he sat on in the water. He should have done whatever it took to put Vanya and all the prince represented out of arm’s reach.
But Soren stayed where he was and allowed himself to be kissed because it wasn’t often he waswanted. Wardens were never wanted, they were needed, and need wasn’t always kind. Vanya kissed him with a focused intensity that left Soren gasping for air when he wasn’t even close to drowning.
Vanya’s hands were warm even beneath the water, and Soren allowed himself to be pulled to his feet there in the pool. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, and he found himself pressed up against Vanya’s chest, still being kissed. Soren slid his hand up Vanya’s arm to the back of his neck, holding him in place like he had the right to when he didn’t.
Vanya nipped at his bottom lip, and Soren didn’t bother suppressing a shiver when Vanya’s hand trailed over his ass. He leaned into the next kiss and groaned at the feel of Vanya’s hard cock against his stomach. The obviousness of his desire wasn’t something Soren shied away from. He was twenty, after all, and this was meaningless in all the ways that mattered except pleasure.
Soren let himself be tugged across the pool to the shallower end, let himself be pushed down into a slanted groove along the pool edge that was carved wide enough to cradle him. The tiles lining it were smooth and cool against his back, sunlight shining down from the stained glass windows above. He could feel through the tiles the faint thrum of the filtration and pump machinery buried beneath the floor of the bathhouse as it worked to cycle the pool water.
Vanya stepped between his legs, bold in the way only royalty could be, his hands warm on Soren’s thighs. His brown eyes were half-lidded and dark with lust, though Soren knew he wasn’t much to look at compared to the nobles and courtesans Vanya had to choose from. He carried scars on his body, evidence of the job he’d been tithed to do, and there was nothing soft about him.
Vanya didn’t seem to mind nor care as his hands mapped Soren’s body with a sureness that made him shiver beneath the firm touch. The prince didn’t seem to be in any rush, which was maddening after a time, and left Soren squirming against cool tile and the water he couldn’t completely submerge into at this angle.
It was only after the dozenth time of Vanya’s hand brushing across his hard cock withoutdoinganything that he finally snapped, pressing the heel of one foot against the small of Vanya’s back in a pointed manner.
“Either fuck me or don’t,” Soren growled, hands gripping Vanya’s forearms.
