Kazia tilts his head, exposing his throat for more wet, tingling touches. “I’m not scared.”
He would have said that either way, but it’s true.
“You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met.” Lucien ventures higher up Kazia’s thighs. “I’m never going to get enough of you.”
Lucien still has terrible taste in men, but Kazia isn’t about to complain. “You’ll have to pick a title. I’ve been thinking about what you said that one time, about being partners. Not king and subject.”
“That was before I defected from Silaise,” Lucien says, pulling away to talk.
Kazia catches Lucien by the shirt before he can get far. Something in Lucien’s pocket clunks against the throne. “I still need someone who doesn’t treat me like that. Someone who knows when to push me.”
Imrik and Aliza ruled together as king and queen, though outsiders may have been fooled by Aliza’s absentmindedness. They supported each other, stronger than they were alone.
Kazia isn’t ready to crown Lucien as a co-ruling king or anything, but he wants a partnership like that. Not with someone like Aliza who will enable his worst impulses, but someone who pushes him to take care of himself and accept help. Someone who asks him to be a better person.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be too obedient.” Lucien caresses the wet line of Kazia’s throat, and his next words are warm against Kazia’s ear. “I don’t want to share this side of you either.”
Kazia squirms, his body reacting to the desire in Lucien’s voice. It’s how he imagines magic would feel if it didn’t hurt. His clothes are too tight, his skin starving for more.
“You’ve been working so hard all day,” Lucien says. “You should go to bed and get some rest.”
Wriggling awkwardly, Kazia fishes something from his pocket and sets it on the arm of the throne. “Or I could take one more audience.”
Lucien blinks at the small jar. “Your Majesty, did you bring salve to court?”
“Yes?” Kazia had felt very hopeful this morning. In retrospect, the idea may have been ridiculous. “I wasn’t sure when we’d have a chance to get away. Stop laughing!”
Lucien wipes his eyes, shoulders still shaking. “Sorry, you’re just so fucking perfect, all right? Here.” He reaches into his own pocket, then sets a second jar next to Kazia’s. “Great minds think alike.”
Kazia stares, then collapses into laughter. He laughs so long and hard, he can barely breathe, bordering on a pain he doesn’t hate. His laughter persists as Lucien pockets both jars, and only cuts off when Lucien lifts him from the throne.
With an undignified yelp, Kazia wraps his arms over Lucien’s shoulders. His legs hook around, and he’s hyperaware of his cock, trapped hard between their bodies.
His heart races with the feeling of being sheltered. Treasured. Desired.
“Would it be inappropriate to bend you over the throne?” Lucien asks.
Kazia jerks in Lucien’s grasp. “Extremely inappropriate. A blight on my father’s memory.”
“Perfect,” Lucien says, and sets Kazia down next to the throne. Then spins him around.
Kazia scrambles to unlace his trousers as Lucien scatters unhurried kisses on his neck and shoulders. The thrill of rebellion heightens every touch. Father would be furious. Mother would have a fit. Kazia doesn’t have to fear their anger and control any more.
He’s the king now, being bent over the arm of his throne. The stone is hard beneath his hips, and his trousers trap his thighs together. His toes barely touch the floor. He braces his elbows on the seat as Lucien leans over him.
“Are you comfortable, Your Majesty?” Lucien asks, teasing and reverent all at once.
“Almost.” Kazia shifts backwards, not liking the cold stone against his leaking cockhead. “There. What do you think? Lord Lucien? Duke Lucien?”
“Not a duke. That sounds so stuffy.” Lucien palms Kazia’s ass, his hand nearly large enough to span an entire cheek. Kazia leans into the touch until a jar unscrews. “What about Baron Lucien? That sounds pretty cool.”
Kazia feigns a gasp. “You can’t be a baron. That’s practically a commoner.”
Slick fingers stroke Kazia’s hole, warm through the salve. “You’re the one letting a filthy commoner into your adorable royal ass,” Lucien points out.
Kazia’s breath hitches. “Nobody has ever accused me of being sensible.”
Lucien laughs as he slides two fingers into Kazia. He finds Kazia’s prostate immediately, and the eye-watering pleasure obliterates everything else.
