Page 50 of My Princeling Brat (Tales from the Tarot #2)

“Right here, my love. Try to relax now.” I sat on the bed beside him and used the feather to trace his skin like an artist’s brush to a canvas.

I traveled across his lovely torso and along his muscular arms. I gave his pierced nipples some extra attention until they stood in soft peaks, my vanadium glinting in the low light, then I moved down to his cock, tracing the veins I adored so much.

“Master,” Cedrych murmured, trying to chase the sensation with his hands.

“Hands at your sides,” I reminded. “Spread your legs wider now.” He did as was told, and I reached for a candle that had been burning on the bedside table. Pinching the flame to put it out, I waited for the hot wax to cool just a little before dripping a little of it onto his pebbled sac.

“Ahhh,” he gasped.

“Too hot?”

“No, just… surprising.”

The liquid wax snaked down toward his hole, which winked at me coyly.

“Master,” he moaned, curling inward on his supine form.

“Yes, my handsome sub?”

“What are you doing to me right now?”

“I’m playing with you,” I said simply. I peeled away the wax, now hardened, which aroused another kind of sensation in my sensitive sub.

Cedrych’s cock was fully hard and bobbing like a buoy against his flat abdomen.

I grabbed a vial of oil and, grabbing his dominant hand, splashed some of the oil onto his palm.

“Touch yourself,” I commanded.

Cedrych hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to touch himself for pleasure, and he was sometimes a very good boy who listened. “Master, are you sure?” he asked.

“I’ve given you explicit permission,” I said.

He grabbed hold, and like a kid in a candy store, stroked swiftly and without restraint. He was clearly taking advantage of the opportunity, so seldom granted, as if I might let him come that easily.

“Stop,” I said suddenly and he immediately ceased all motion, but not without a dramatic groan of displeasure, and he didn’t let go.

His chest heaved with beads of sweat dotting his pecs and dripping down the valley of his torso.

“Hold yourself still until you’ve calmed down and then you may begin again. ”

“Master,” Cedrych said, his voice edged with impatience.

“You know the rules, Cedrych. And that doesn’t sound like begging to me,” I said.

“Master, please?” he tried again.

“Not yet, my love. Not until you’ve earned it. When you’re desperate and shaking and cursing the day you agreed to be my betrothed. When your blood is burning and your muscles wish to crawl right out of your skin. Only then will I allow you to come. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he whined with a lovely pout on his face, just for me. Maybe he’d cry too. One could only hope.

“Maybe, sweet prince, if you please me.”

Cedrych took a deep breath, centering himself before beginning again.

He stroked slower this time and with more caution.

Was he trying to sneak an orgasm by me? He could certainly try, but I knew his anatomy better than my own, including all the tells of an oncoming release.

So, as his balls began to draw up tight and his prick began to bob enthusiastically in his hand, I commanded him again to stop.

“You are cruel,” he said with a bit of melancholy. He couldn’t see the smirk on my face or know the extent of my pleasure in denying him.

“I know, my dear, but you agreed to this, didn’t you?” I taunted. The more stubborn he was, the better.

“Yes, I suppose I did,” he said, sounding bereft.

“And are you having regrets?” I asked.

“Some,” he admitted.

“You know that you can halt me at any time.”

“I know, but I don’t want to,” he said with a frustrated whine.

“And why’s that?”

“You know why?” he said mulishly.

“But I want to hear you say it.”

“Because when you finally let me come–”

“If,” I corrected.

“If you finally let me come, it will feel like I’m soaring through the clouds, better than any rush of air beneath my wings, faster than flight itself.”

“Then we can only hope you continue to follow my instructions.”

“I will,” he was quick to assure me.

“And I hope you know that even when I’m being hard on you, I love you very much.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, still with a little pout in his voice.

“Now take a deep breath, sweet boy, and then you may begin again.”

Oh, the satisfaction I derived from watching my brave, headstrong boy do battle with himself.

The way he swallowed down his bratty rebuttals and followed my every command as his desire to be good warred with his desire to orgasm.

And he endured it all because he trusted me, and he believed in me.

I guided him through several more rounds of sensual torture, letting his anticipation and desperation build.

Like the moon controlling the tide, I brought him to the edge of orgasm, then pulled him back from the edge each time.

The blindfold hid his tears, but I could tell from his begging voice that he was nearing his breaking point.

Despite the oil, his cock was red and nearly rubbed raw as I pushed his shaking legs wide.

“Please, Master. Please, I beg you, let me finish?” Cedrych said. “I’ll give you anything, my chastity for a moon cycle, endless cockwarming, no backtalk for a…”

“For how long?” I asked, for he seemed to falter.

“A really long time,” he promised, hardly coherent enough to make such promises, not that I believed he could even follow through on that last one.

His mouth had a mind of its own. If I were a less scrupulous man, I may have taken advantage of his offers, but I wouldn’t hold him to anything said in the throes of desperation.

“I’m going to bite you now,” I told him. “You may stroke yourself through it.”

“Oh, Gods, thank you, Master. Thank you.”

The scent of his sweat and skin had my canines engaged in preparation for the feast. I traced his bulging femoral vein with my fingertip, locating the exact spot to bite without causing too much damage.

Cedrych’s hand was a blur of motion over his cock, taking advantage of my permission to pump himself ruthlessly. It wouldn’t be long now.

Without further hesitation, I sank my teeth into his groin and cut my teeth on his skin.

Cedrych bucked underneath me, an orgasmic gasp escaping his parched lips.

With his head thrown back and his back bowed, he howled with a primal intensity as his cock erupted onto his chest, pulse after pulse.

I lost count, having to keep track of my own pleasure.

I savored the taste of my beloved like it was an expensive aperitif—so crisp and sweet—until at last I pulled myself away from the erotic feast and set to healing him.

Cedrych panted, his large chest heaving while I licked his vein until it had repaired itself and then the wounds from my teeth.

The mark would be lovely and last a long time.

Then I set to collecting his spend with my tongue.

Cedrych’s mouth was already open in anticipation.

I spit into his mouth, and he licked his lips slowly while still floating in his otherworldly place, soaring above the clouds.

Then my very good boy said softly, “Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome, precious boy.”

“And husband,” he added.

“My husband, my consort, and my beloved for as long as we both shall live.”

He smiled at my proclamation, and when I went to remove the blindfold, he murmured, “Leave it on a little longer.”

I gave him some honey water to drink, then wrapped us both in a light blanket, creating a cocoon of warmth, trust, and safety.

“Thank you for opening your fortress and your heart to me,” Cedrych said softly, his sweet breath ghosting across my cheek.

I smiled warmly, astonished, yet again, by the depth of my husband’s emotion. “Thank you for trusting me with your heart, Cedrych. It’s a gift I will cherish forever.”

“I love you, Mercier,” he said, already drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too, my darling husband.”

I’d been enlisted to tame this wayward prince, but it was Cedrych who taught me how to love. And as the night folded around us like a velvet curtain, I held him close—my beloved husband—and knew that in loving him, I had finally found my own freedom.