Page 85 of The Frog Prince

Otto looked up and saw the broken room was only a few strokes away. He was already mourning the loss of their closeness.

Alwin drew them level and instructed Otto to hold on to the edge. “I’ll go first and help pull you up.”

He popped out of the water gracefully, skin shining beautifully and dripping water all over. Otto stared up at him with pink cheeks and a stiffening member, thinking he was a deity come to seek admiration from petty humans.

Alwin reached down to offer a hand, and Otto took it with one of his own, using the other to brace himself on the stonework and gain some leverage with his foot on the lip.

Only Otto pushed too hard at the same moment Alwin pulled with too much strength, and Otto could only widen his eyes as he tried to regain his balance before they both went toppling backward into the room.

Fourteen

Alwin

Alwin hit the stonework with Otto on top of him, heavy and perfectly placed between his thighs. He couldn’t swallow the desperate croak that escaped him as his body reacted to all the stimulus he had been fighting the whole way home, his amphibian brain telling him to wrap his legs around Otto tightly and hold on.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the instinct, feeling his skin flush under his clothes without his consent.

“Alwin?” Otto whispered, breath hot on the side of his face.

Alwin could only whine and shake his head, fingers grasping Otto’s soaked shirt over his shoulders. The fabric clung tohis sticky fingers when he tried to pull back, the friction and pressure making his hips roll up.

Pleasure spiked through him as Alwin’s hardness pressed against Otto’s own girth. Otto grunted in surprise, a vibration Alwin felt in his core as arms came up to frame his head on either side.

“Alwin…” Otto murmured again, color high across his nose and cheeks, eyes half lidded. “I can feel your cock.”

“I apologize,” Alwin said breathlessly. Mortified and thrilled by the blunt words in equal measure.

Droplets of water fell from Otto’s face and hair to hit his skin in a steady drip, making Alwin shiver and shudder with every one before a nose tickled his jaw, finding space above his high collar and hovering over his delicate throat sac. Alwin gasped, his eyes flying open and fingers straining the seams of Otto’s shirt.

“Why are you apologizing?” Otto asked him.

“Because I…”

Lips pressed lightly against the thin skin, so soft and gentle, but the sensation spiked through him like a lightning strike, taking his breath away. He stared at the canopy above and prayed for salvation.

“Because?” Otto pressed the word into his skin, his lips moving around the syllables.

His finger hooked the material to coax it lower, cold air hitting Alwin’s skin. He croaked, unable to swallow it, the action pushing the skin closer.

“Because I…”

A tongue now, broad, hot, inelegant, branding him, licking up moisture and replacing it with his own.

Alwin’s head pressed back against the stone as he keened, mouth open wide. His legs clamped around Otto’s hips and he thrust wildly. “Because I can’t stop,” he sobbed. “I can’t…”

His hind brain had taken over. The frog part that said: Mate. Breed. Come.

“Don’t stop.” Otto groaned, giving him permission, kissing at his neck as he met his thrusts with powerful ones of his own. “Let me hear you. That croak drives me wild.”

They were already wet from the water, but Alwin knew he was leaking. From his cock, from his ass; his body prepping him to fuck and be fucked. It didn’t care, it just wanted.

Alwin finally untangled his fingers enough to grasp at the back of Otto’s head. His fingers were long enough to wrap around the whole thing, sifting through his soft hair, what would have been his thumb resting across Otto’s cheek and down past his working jaw.

Otto tilted his head slightly in response, and Alwin barely caught the flash of hunger and determination in his eyes before Otto was flicking his tongue out to catch the end of Alwin’s finger right on the sticky tip.

“Otto!” Alwin cried out, watching his tongue eagerly draw the appendage into his mouth. Otto fit his lips around it like it was a cockhead he was sucking.

It wasn’t far off. In size and feel it was about the same—bulbous, with a soft end that leaked the more Otto worked his tongue against it. And the way it made Alwin cry his pleasure into the forest air and grind his hips could have fooled anyone.