Page 27 of Prince Material (The Prince Pact #2)

ORSON

Was it possible to short circuit as a human being?

If so, I had to be close. So many sensations were barreling through my body that I was half out of it, almost desperate with the need to come.

Floris was sucking me off with gusto, showing his expertise, and I couldn’t be anything but grateful to be the beneficiary of his experience.

He did things with his mouth and tongue that I hadn’t thought possible, not to mention the fact that he seemed to have no gag reflex at all.

My balls were practically resting against his chin, but he was actively swallowing around my cock, humming with contentment every now and then. Every time he did, I went wild.

My hands gripped the sheets as I writhed beneath Floris’s expert ministrations.

I was barely coherent at this point, reduced to a shaking, sweating mess of need and sensation.

Some distant part of my brain knew I should be reciprocating in some way, touching Floris, pleasuring him in return.

But I couldn’t focus on anything except the wet heat of his mouth, the flicks and swirls of his wicked tongue, the obscene slurping noises that filled the room.

I fisted my hands in his hair, not directing his movements but holding on for dear life as he took me apart. My hips were moving of their own accord with little thrusts that I couldn’t control. Floris took it all in stride, letting me fuck his face as I chased my orgasm.

“Floris, I’m gonna…” I gasped out in warning, my voice wrecked. “I can’t hold back, I’m going to come.”

He hummed around my cock, the vibrations shooting straight through me, and that was it. I came with a shout, my vision whiting out as I spilled down his throat. Floris swallowed it all down eagerly, not pulling off until I whimpered from the oversensitivity.

As I lay there panting and boneless, Floris crawled up my body to press gentle kisses across my face—my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose.

I felt utterly spent, like every drop of tension had been wrung out of my body.

Floris gathered me close, stroking my sweat-damp hair back from my face as I caught my breath.

I went willingly, tucking my face into his neck and breathing in his scent.

We lay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow. “You’re amazing,” I mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. “That was incredible.”

I blinked up at him, still dazed, as he smiled down at me. “You are incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough. “The way you let go, the sounds you make… I could watch you fall apart like that all day.”

I flushed at the praise, suddenly self-conscious. I wasn’t used to being so vulnerable, so uninhibited with another person. “Thank you?”

Slowly, awareness began to return to my sex-fogged brain. I realized with a start that while I had experienced mind-blowing ecstasy, Floris was still hard against my hip, his own needs unmet.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “You didn’t… I mean, do you want me to…?”

I made a vague gesture towards his groin, feeling a blush heat my cheeks.

I wanted to return the favor, but I wasn’t sure I had the finesse to give a blow job like he had.

The thought of choking, of doing it wrong, filled me with trepidation.

But I wanted to make Floris feel as good as he had made me feel. I needed to at least try.

“You don’t have to…” Floris started to say, always so considerate. But I cut him off with a firm kiss.

“I want to,” I insisted, my voice rough but sure. “I want to make you feel good too. I just… I don’t have a lot of experience with oral, so I might not be very good at it.”

Floris cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone. “You could use your hand, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

I considered this for a moment before nodding. For my first time with him, I was definitely better off with something I actually had done before. My experience was anything but vast, but at least the guys I’d done it with had been satisfied, so that counted for something, right?

Gathering my courage, I rolled us over so that Floris was beneath me.

I took a moment to take in the sight of him sprawled out before me, his hair messy from our activities, his chest heaving with each breath.

He was so gorgeous, all defined muscles without being bulky.

I felt a thrill looking at him, all raw beauty and unguarded vulnerability.

He gazed up at me with a mix of desire and amusement that made my heart skip a beat. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reached up to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. But I wasn’t going to be distracted right now.

Everything about him was captivating, from the flushed head of his cock jutting proudly from its nest of blond curls to the tiny mole on his left hip bone. It was enough to make my head spin, almost enough to make me lose my nerve. But I wanted this, wanted him.

“You’re not cut,” I said.

He frowned. “Cut?”

“Circumcised.”

“Ah. No. It’s not common in the Netherlands like here.”

Huh, interesting. I hadn’t expected something that seemed so standard here to be the exception somewhere else.

Slowly, reverently, I began to explore his body with my hands and mouth, mapping out the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the jut of his hip bones.

I wanted to memorize every inch of him, to worship him with my touch the way he had done for me with his mouth.

I traced nonsensical patterns on his skin with my fingertips, delighting in the way he shivered and sighed beneath my touch.

“What’s the meaning of your tattoos?” I asked, tracing the one on his right upper arm with my fingers. It was a coat of arms with a lion and… My eyes narrowed. “Is that French?”

“It’s the Dutch coat of arms and our family motto, je maintiendrai .

It is French and it means I will maintain.

” He tapped on his left shoulder. “And this is the Dutch flag with the orange banner. It says Oranje Boven, which means…” He thought for a moment.

“It literally means orange above, but it has the spirit of ‘long live the king.’ Or queen.” He shrugged. “Just proud to be who I am, you know?”

He should be. I kissed the tattoo on his right arm, then continued my exploration.

Floris let out a low moan as I pressed kisses all over his shoulders.

Emboldened, I lavished attention on his chest, licking and sucking and gently biting until he was squirming beneath me, hands fisted in my hair.

Each little gasp and moan was like fuel.

Hearing the effect I had on him gave me a rush of power, a daring kind of determination.

I could do this. I wanted to do this. My mouth moved with purpose, closing over a nipple and sucking it between my teeth.

Floris let out a strangled groan, his body tensing and then shuddering with each sensation.

I rolled the nipple with my tongue, then bit down enough to make Floris toss his head back and gasp out loud. I was determined to wring as many of those sounds out of Floris as I could, to make him feel the same mindless pleasure that I had felt when Floris had been sucking me off.

I moved to the other nipple and gave it the same thorough treatment, licking and nipping and kissing until Floris was bucking beneath me, his entire body taut with need. I had never seen Floris like this, so unrestrained, so overwhelmed, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

Downward my journey went, dipping my tongue into his navel, nuzzling the trail of hair below it. Floris’s breaths were coming faster now, little whimpers escaping him as I drew closer to where he so clearly wanted me.

My hands skimmed lower, brushing over his thighs, teasing him as I avoided touching his dick. Floris let out a low groan, his hips canting upwards, seeking friction.

“Orson, please,” he gasped, desperation leaking into his voice.

I took pity on him then, wrapping my hand around his straining erection.

We both moaned at the contact. I took a moment to explore, to catalog the weight of it in my palm, the heat, the silken texture of the skin.

He was so hard that the foreskin had peeled back and his tip was wholly visible.

Slowly, I began to stroke him, spreading the bead of moisture at the tip with my thumb.

Emboldened, I set a steady rhythm, working him with firm strokes.

It was different than getting myself off; the angle was strange and my wrist started to ache after a few minutes.

But it was worth it to watch Floris slowly come undone beneath my touch, worth it to hear the breathless little moans and whimpers he let out, to feel him throb and pulse in my grip.

His eyes were screwed shut, his kiss-swollen lips parted as he panted for breath.

A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

He looked utterly debauched, and it was the most erotic sight I’d ever seen.

He was breathtaking like this, lost in pleasure that I was giving him.

Pride swelled inside me at the knowledge that I could affect him this way, that I could make him feel this good.

I varied my strokes, alternating between long pulls from base to tip and shorter, faster jerks over the head. Floris’s hips began to move, thrusting up into my fist as he chased his release.

“Orson,” he panted, his voice strained. “I’m close, I’m gonna…”

I doubled my efforts, my hand flying over his cock as I twisted my wrist on every upstroke, the same way I liked it on myself.

Floris seemed to approve, if the way his moans increased in pitch and volume were any indication.

A few more firm strokes and he was coming with a low cry, spilling over my fist and onto his own stomach.

I worked him through it, slowing my strokes but not stopping until he whimpered from the sensitivity.

I finally released him, my hand sticky with his release. Floris lay there panting, his chest heaving as he came down from his high. I stared at him in wonder, marveling at the fact that I had done that, that I had made him come undone so completely .

With a shaky hand, I reached for the tissues on the nightstand and gently cleaned him up. Floris hummed in contentment, his eyes fluttering open to gaze at me with undisguised affection. My heart stuttered at the tenderness in his expression.

I tossed the soiled tissues in the general direction of the trash can and collapsed next to him on the bed, suddenly exhausted.

Floris immediately gathered me into his arms, tucking my head beneath his chin as he stroked his fingers through my hair.

I went willingly, relishing the skin-on-skin contact, the steady thump of his heartbeat under my cheek.

We lay there like that for a while, holding each other close as our breathing evened out and our heart rates returned to normal. I felt boneless and blissed out, like I could happily stay right here in this moment forever.

“That was amazing,” Floris murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re amazing.”

I huffed out a laugh, tilting my head back to look at him. “I’m not sure fumbling my way through a hand job qualifies as amazing, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Floris chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest under my ear. “Trust me, that was not fumbling. You’re a natural.”

I flushed at the praise, ducking my head to hide my pleased smile against his skin. “You’re funny.”

Floris’s smile was soft as he gazed down at me, his eyes shining with affection. “As long as we get to do this again, I’ll gladly have that argument whenever you want.”

A pleasant warmth bloomed inside me at his words.

The idea that this wasn’t a one-time thing, that Floris wanted to continue exploring this new facet of our relationship, filled me with a giddy sort of joy.

But for now, I was content to bask in the afterglow, to revel in the feeling of Floris’s arms around me, his skin against mine.

We lapsed into comfortable silence, Floris’s fingers tracing idle patterns on my back as I listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“When we get back, I don’t want to be too much of a distraction,” Floris finally said. “Promise me you’ll tell me to back off if you need to.”

I smiled. “You mean you want me to employ some of that Dutch directness?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to get frustrated with me… or even angry because you feel I’m keeping you from your studies.”

He truly understood. Nothing he could’ve said could’ve made that clearer. He knew what my studies meant to me. “I will… but please don’t stop asking me to do things, okay? I need you to pull me out of my own head, away from my books.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Promise.”

I’d never registered that us being so different also meant we could give each other what we needed. He was the push I needed to try new things, and I was the one he could be himself with, let down his mask. Maybe we were a better fit than I’d ever realized.

My eyelids began to droop as the long day caught up with me. Our trip to the bayou, coupled with the physical exertion of our lovemaking, had drained me completely. I felt wrung out in the best possible way.

Sated and sleepy, I nuzzled deeper into Floris’s embrace, soaking in his warmth and scent. He smelled like sex and sweat and something uniquely him, a combination that I found intoxicating. I breathed him in, letting his presence soothe me, ground me .

“Go to sleep, lieverd ,” Floris murmured, his lips brushing my forehead. “I’ve got you.”

And I believed him. Here, wrapped up in Floris, I felt safe in a way I hadn’t in a long, long time. Maybe ever. With him, I could let my guard down, could allow myself to be vulnerable. It was a heady feeling.

My limbs grew heavy as sleep tugged at me insistently. I fought it for a moment, wanting to stay awake and savor this closeness, this perfect moment. But my exhaustion won out in the end.

The last thing I remembered before slipping into slumber was the gentle press of Floris’s lips against my temple and the whispered words, “Sweet dreams, lieverd .”