Hugo inhaled to say there was no such thing as too much sex, but that air rushed out of him as Everand entered him in one long, smooth thrust. In the blink of an eye, he was stretched and filled. All the air in his lungs had been pushed out, and his entire body was focused on the thick cock that filled him.
“Oh, fuck,” Everand groaned, and his head hit Hugo’s shoulder. “You okay?”
Hugo sucked in a ragged breath and nodded. It took him another second to get his tongue working to mumble, “Yes,” in case Everand didn’t see his nod. “Hurry.”
Everand moved slowly at first, withdrawing and plunging into Hugo with great care, seeming to savor the deep, slick slide that was driving soft whimpers out of Hugo. One hand slipped under Hugo’s shirt and smoothed up his back before fingers gripped his shoulder. The other hand held his hip, pulling Hugo to adjust the angle so that he was hitting Hugo’s prostate with each thrust.
Hugo clenched his eyes shut and lost himself in the feel of Everand moving inside him. The smack of flesh against flesh echoed down the stone corridor, almost covering the sounds of their low grunts and broken pants. Pleasure streaked through him like fire racing through a dry field in summer, burning up every bit of him. Muscles constricted while sweat slicked his skin. Everand consumed him. His hot, strong touch. The catch in his breathing. The feel of Everand filling him so completely.
“Harder,” Hugo begged, his forearms braced on the wall in front of him. His cheek rested on the cold stone, but it did nothing to cool his body. “Harder. I want to feel you with every step I take down the aisle.”
Everand moaned and sped up, his body hammering into him harder and faster.
He was getting close. Hugo dropped his hand to his leaking cock and started stroking it. There was no point in trying to make it last longer. They were on borrowed time now and needed to get out of this secret passageway before someone caught them. That edge of danger wasn’t helping him to last.
“Close,” he choked out.
“Here,” Everand growled. The hand under his shirt fell away and grabbed Hugo’s chin, jerking his head as far as it could go. Everand covered his mouth in the messiest kiss, tipping Hugo over the edge. He shouted into Everand’s mouth. A second later Everand joined him, crying out and coming inside him.
Hugo caught his spend as best as he could, not wanting it to spill on all his clothes or the wall. Everand’s desperate kisses morphed into something languid and lingering as if they had all the time in the world.
“Handkerchief?” Hugo murmured against his lips.
Everand smiled and pulled away. A moment later, a pristine white handkerchief dangled in front of his face. However, Everand didn’t pull from his body. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Hugo’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder while they tried to catch their breaths.
“Gods, I love you.” Everand exhaled. He rubbed his face between Hugo’s shoulder blades as if nuzzling him.
“Why? Because I let you fuck me in a secret passageway an hour prior to our wedding?”
“Well, that’s part of it.”
Hugo wheezed and choked on a laugh. “Incorrigible.”
“I am. Yet, despite how incorrigible, lazy, reckless, and possessive I am, you still love me.”
“Not despite. Because you are all those things and more, I love you.”
“Will you still love me if…if I tell you I’m terrified?”
Hugo stiffened and cursed himself, knowing Everand could feel his reaction. He struggled to keep his voice even as he asked, “You’re terrified of us getting married?”
“No! Of course not!”
“Everand, I need to face you, but it’s difficult as we are.”
His lover grumbled but pulled free so they could both get their clothes appropriately settled. Hugo stuffed the soiled handkerchief into his pocket and pulled Everand into his arms.
“Why are you terrified?” he demanded, holding Everand.
Everand rested his head on Hugo’s shoulder, pressing his face into Hugo’s neck so that his lips brushed his skin as he spoke. “Not because of you. I want us to be married. I want us to build a long, happy life together more than anything in this world.”
Relief unfurled in Hugo’s chest, but not enough that he could breathe easier. “Then what is it?”
“It feels like getting married marks the true beginning of my march to the throne.”
“But your father is still so young and in remarkable health. Surely, you don’t think you’ll inherit that soon?”
“Not from his death, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided one day to step down and hand things over to me so he could enjoy a few years without the burden of wearing the crown. I know he plans to train me in earnest to take his place after we marry. The idea of one day running the country, making decisions that will affect the lives of millions of people…it’s terrifying. What if I’m horrible at it? What if my people starve or we lurch from one war to another because the other kingdoms see me as weak?”
