Page 27

Chapter twenty-seven

C onsciousness is calling. Once again, the bed is soft and warm. I know Llywelyn is beside me. I have no idea if it is morning or if I am stirring from a nap. Time and routine have become jumbled things.

I open my eyes and I’m not surprised to find Llywelyn’s golden gaze inches from my face. Part of me could sense that he was awake. And I’m getting used to waking up like this. It should be creepy that he enjoys watching me sleep, but twisted bastard that I am, I like it.

I run my hand over my face as the last tendrils of sleep slip away and memories come rushing in. I remember carrying him to bed, and him still being pretty vacant. He looks lucid now.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Fine,” he replies.

As talkative as ever. But that’s okay. It is the way he is. And right now, I’m the one who needs to be talking. There is a lot to tell him.

I clear my throat. “Selwyn read a book about omegas.”

My mouth goes dry. I’ve spilled Llywelyn’s secrets and now I have to explain all sorts of life-changing things to him. I guess it is no less than I deserve.

“I know. I was listening,” Llywelyn says softly.

“Oh.” I really don’t know what else to say. I’m relieved I don’t need to explain everything, but now I feel guilty for assuming he wasn’t paying attention, and for talking about him as if he wasn’t there .

A strange look flickers over Llywelyn’s beautiful eyes. “I don’t want to be subservient to you.”

A heaviness settles over me. As if gravity has thickened. It is quiet in here. Quiet enough to hear the beating of my guilty heart.

“I know.”

It is the only thing I can say. I’m not going to wheedle out excuses or try to paint everything in a rosy light. He deserves the truth. And it is so refreshing to speak it.

“I hate what you have done to me,” he says and his pink lips lift up in a slight pout, even though his voice is calm and measured.

“I know,” I say again.

He stares at me as a silence falls between us.

“And you know I didn’t do it on purpose,” I say.

He frowns and I hate the unhappy lines marring his pretty face, twisting his features away from his natural beauty.

“It’s going to be fine,” I state, and it is not a lie. “We are not running away to a cottage in the woods. You are still going to be crown prince, and I’m still going to put you there.”

His frown lines fade, and his eyes grow wide and dark. That’s more like it. That’s what I want to see.

I draw in a hasty breath. “You are going to stay cunning and ruthless, and I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” My words sound like a vow. A promise. And that’s more than fine because I have never meant anything more.

Llywelyn stares at me. His yellow hair is nearly falling into his eyes and it is taking all my willpower to not tenderly brush it back. I want him to listen. To comprehend and understand. I don’t want to distract him.

He licks his lips. “The way things are between us… Will be our secret?”

My eyes scrunch up as my lungs constrict. Pure physical agony lances through me. Burning and intense. I don’t want to be anything like Iestyn. But like so often in my life, there is no choice.

“Yes,” I wheeze out weakly.

“Fuck me,” says Llywelyn.

It takes me a moment to realise he is not using that phrase as an expression. Llywelyn is not swearing about our situation. He is stating a request.

My eyes snap open. “Right now?”

He nods solemnly. “Yes. I want to feel you.”

My gaze searches his. Eyes are the windows to the soul, so they say. Is he serious? Is he in his right mind? Is he simply saying what he thinks I want to hear?

His ethereal face is calm. There is genuine lust smouldering in his eyes. He is speaking the truth.

Immediately, as soon as I register that Llywelyn truly does want me, right now, my arousal flares to life and my cock begins to swell. I like sex. I really like sex. And I like Llywelyn, really like him. Sex with Llywelyn is like combining my two favourite things.

Llywelyn smiles softly at whatever expression I’m wearing. He rolls onto his back.

“I prepared myself while you were sleeping.”

I blink in astonishment. Part of me thinks that is the hottest thing I have ever heard. Another, far more sensible part of me, is deeply, deeply alarmed that he can do such a thing without waking me.

I peel back the covers. I didn’t decide to. It just happened. I guess my horny side is in full control. I can’t say I mind all that much.

My gaze drops down. Llywelyn is naked. Fully, gloriously nude. Every inch of his perfect body on proud display.

Hastily, I wriggle out of my pyjama trousers and fling them on the floor. In almost the same movement, I roll on top of Llywelyn. Nestling myself between his spread legs.

He looks up at me with a heated gaze. I swallow dryly. If this is my future, I’m all for it. Silken sheets and Llywelyn taking my cock. There are worse ways to live .

I line my hard cock up and push into him, holding his gaze all the while. His eyes swirl. Pleasure and awe as he feels me enter his body. I groan as I slide into him. Satin and heat and pressure.

I ease all the way in, not stopping until I am balls deep in my prince. Fully sheathed. Our bodies joined.

Then I move. I flip us over so that I’m on my back on the bed and he is sitting on top of me. Gravity, the movement, and the physiology of this new position, means he sinks even deeper and my cock reaches further than it ever has before.

He gasps and I place my hands on his hips to steady him. He breathes heavily as he adjusts, and then his eyes clear.

“Do you know how to do this?” I rumble.

His cheeks flush a very pretty pink and he nods almost shyly. Delight surges through me. My hands fall away from his hips.

“Show me then, pretty boy.”

He bites his bottom lip for a moment, and then he moves. Sensation explodes within me. My mind whites out. Oh lord, I’m going to die. An image flashes of the very first moment I laid eyes on Llywelyn. He was on that hell beast and it reared up and Llywelyn maintained his seat flawlessly. My boy really does know how to ride.

I’m not surprised. There is grace in all of his movements. Even when he is drunk. I’d love to see him dance, it must be spectacular.

I open my eyes. Llywelyn is undulating on top of me. His waist and hips moving in a way I’ve only seen belly dancers do and oh my fucking god does it feel amazing.

I drag my gaze up his flat stomach. Up to his plump nipples, erect with his arousal. My hands move of their own accord and claim them. Llywelyn whines and rides faster. My hands squeeze, cup and push. My thumbs flick over his nubs.

His head falls back, and he wails his pleasure to the heavens. I watch him in awe. He keeps moving, a fast and delicious rhythm. My hands keep working .

He lifts his head back up and looks down at me. His expression is a combination of haughty prince and bossy twink, with sweet boy overwhelmed by sensation.

It nearly makes me blow my load. But there is no fucking way I want this to end yet, so I bite my lip hard enough to bleed and force my impending orgasm away.

Llywelyn’s eyes glow with a golden light. More than a cat’s in the dark. Not a mere reflection, actually lighting up from within. A groan rumbles through me. Fuck, that is hot.

I look up at him and blink. Oh my god. His antlers. He is displaying his antlers. If my theory about needing happiness to manifest them is correct, then this is the proudest moment of my life.

The base of my spine is tingling. My extremities are numb. My balls are so tight it hurts. I cannot fight back this orgasm anymore.

There is a beautiful fey prince with antlers and glowing eyes bouncing on my cock while I play with his almost-breasts. Nobody in the world could blame me for not being able to hold back.

Llywelyn continues to ride me. Sliding up my cock and slamming back down. Clenching around me. Caressing my hard length with his undulating movements. Everything is heat and pressure and friction.

With a cry, my orgasm unleashes with the fury of a hurricane. It tears through me, obliterating everything in its path. Distantly, I can hear myself growling, but euphoria has catapulted my consciousness to the stars. I’m floating while my body is rocking with the surge of my peak.

Slowly, I drift back down to reality. I’m panting. Sweating. My softening cock is still cocooned within Llywelyn.

I wheeze and stare up at him. I think my brain exploded. I may never be the same again.

He pouts at me and gives me a disapproving glower. My gaze quickly drops down to his belly. Evidence of his own release is everywhere, so why is he sulking?

“How long until you get hard again?” he whines.

My laugh bursts out of me. Hard enough to startle Llywelyn.

His scowl deepens. “I will have to get Dyfri to make you a potion that keeps you hard all night.”

Laughter continues to bubble up through me. Hard enough to shake Llywelyn.

I give him a smile. He has just had the best idea of his life.