Jasper went light-headed between the heat rushing to his face and the blood rushing to his cock. A soft strangled moanescaped him at the thought of being inside Vincent. His breath left him with a shuddery, “What?”
“Are you worried you won’t please them, Your Highness?” Vincent purred before tracing his tongue around the shell of Jasper’s ear.
He swallowed hard and twisted his fingers in Vincent’s shirt to keep himself grounded. No way was Vincent really offering to let Jasper top. Was he? “Are you serious?” he asked softly, staring at Vincent when he pulled back. “You’d really let me…?”
Vincent raised an eyebrow. “I’m not against it. Are you?”
“I—That’s not—You can’t—” He snapped his mouth shut when Vincent pressed a thumb to his lips.
“You think a sub can’t penetrate his Dom,” he said, and Jasper nodded and sagged in relief at not having to find the words. “You think because I’m your Dom I can’t enjoy being taken as much as you do?”
“Do you?” Vincent had never mentioned or given any indication he wanted that.
“With the right conditions. And the right partner,” Vincent murmured.
Jasper’s heart skipped before pounding in his chest. Vincent thought he was the right partner. Vincent thought he was the right partner? “I’ve never….”
Vincent didn’t look surprised as he brushed his thumb back and forth against Jasper’s lips. “Do you know why I like role-play?” he asked, waiting for Jasper to shake his head before continuing. “Kink lets you explore physical or mental fantasies, but role-play lets you experience different lives.”
Jasper’s lips twitched, and he lightly bit Vincent’s thumb on its next swipe. “Like a corrupt doctor who likes to abuse his patients.”
“Or a dedicated, loyal advisor who’d give everything to his prince. Even his own body.”
Jasper swayed closer, his fingers splayed against Vincent’s stomach as butterflies tried to burst out of his own. “What if the prince is really bad at sex?”
“He won’t be,” Vincent said, sliding a hand into Jasper’s hair and curling into a loose grip.
“How do you know?”
“Because a good advisor won’t let him be.”
Jasper tipped his head back with a soft gasp when Vincent tugged, heat already pooling in his gut before Vincent’s lips and his scruff left a tingling path down Jasper’s neck. “Are you a good advisor?” Jasper asked.
“Only the best.” Vincent lightly dragged his teeth against Jasper’s shoulder before replacing them with a warm kiss. “Should I prove it, Your Highness?”
“By letting me fuck you?”
Vincenttsked and flexed his fingers tighter in Jasper’s hair. “By guiding you in how to pleasure me.”
Oh. That sounded less stressful. If Vincent was still in control, Jasper had less of a chance to fuck everything up. “Okay,” he whispered. “What do I do?”
Vincent pulled back and settled against the headboard with an approving hum. “You can start by removing my clothes.”
Surely he’d heard that wrong. He’d never seen Vincent fully and completely naked before. He knew what Vincent’s scars looked like and felt like, but not an undressed Vincent. He slipped his hands under Vincent’s shirt and caressed his sides and stomach. “All of them?”
“Mm-hmm.” He caught Jasper’s wrist when he pushed Vincent’s shirt up. “Slow.”
Jasper gave a jerky nod and stared at his hands as he inched Vincent’s shirt up his stomach. When the edge of the burn scars came into view, he paused and glanced up to make sure Vincent was really okay with this.
“I’m sure,” Vincent said softly, resting his hands on Jasper’s thighs.
He caught his lower lip between his teeth and continued pushing the shirt up. As more of the scars were revealed, he dragged his thumbs against them. Burn scars were always gnarly, but Jasper found them fascinating rather than repulsive. Even a decade old, he could tell how severe the burns had been. Especially after he’d spent two days researching burn injuries in all the medical texts he could find in the college library. He’d initially started researching online, but he wanted the validity of published and peer-reviewed information.
When he finally got the shirt to Vincent’s shoulders, Vincent lifted his arms so Jasper could pull it over his head and toss it aside. Then he had the luxury of Vincent half naked beneath him, and he couldn’t resist exploring with his fingertips. The pale flesh and sparse scattering of dark curls across his chest. The angry red spiderweb of old scars across his torso and the jagged white one down his right arm. He spread his palm across the center of the damage and pushed past the dark flare of doubt in his gut.
Other lives, Vincent had said. What was the point in pretending to be someone or something else if they couldn’t create a different story for something like this?
“Is this from when you saved my life?” he asked softly, glancing up at Vincent’s sharp inhale. “From the fire that nearly killed me.”
