The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1)

by Antonia Aquilante

  After a while, Philip picked up his wine glass and stood. He held a hand out to Amory, and pulled him up by it, dropping a quick kiss on Amory’s lips once he was standing. Amory picked up his wine glass as well, but to his surprise, Philip didn’t lead him inside the house but to the chaise he’d noticed earlier. Philip reclined on the chaise, and tugged Amory’s hand until he settled there as well. They did both fit. He was half on top of Philip, but that only made it better.

  For a while, they lay there, listening to the quiet sounds of the night around them. Amory finished his wine and set the glass to the side. Refilling his glass would have involved getting up, and he much preferred staying where he was. He nestled his head against Philip’s shoulder. Philip made a little sound of contentment and set his own glass aside, tightening his arms around Amory. He wasn’t surprised when Philip turned to him and pulled him into a gentle kiss, but he more than welcomed it. He surrendered to it gladly, letting the kisses turn slow and deep. Continuing and spinning out as they lay tangled together under a sky filled with stars.

  They slept later than usual the next morning, not only because it had been late when they took themselves to bed after dozing on the terrace, but also because they had no obligations. There were no meetings for Philip or lessons for Amory at Alzata, so there was no reason to leave the comfort of the big bed and its soft mattress and blankets. And Philip told him so in a sleepy mumble as he pulled Amory back into his arms that morning, snuggling them both under the covers for a little more sleep. Amory chuckled as he settled against Philip’s chest. Philip truly was a hedonist. Not that he didn’t like the idea of lying around in Philip’s arms. He really did.

  When they finally got out of bed, they ate a late breakfast, and went for a long ride around Alzata. They returned in high spirits to find a light lunch prepared for them and a messenger just arrived from the palace with some papers for Philip to review. Amory supposed it would be impossible for Philip to be out of touch, nor did he think Philip would want to be. It would cede too much control to others when he knew Philip wanted to be a strong ruler in his own right.

  Philip insisted they eat before he looked at the papers. So they ate their lunch at a small table in a sunny room overlooking the garden and the lake. They didn’t rush, but they didn’t linger. Philip had responsibilities despite what either of them might want.

  “Go and get it over with,” Amory told him as they walked out into the corridor. “I’m going to get my sketchbook and sit out on the terrace. I’ll be there when you’re finished.”

  Philip nodded. “All right.”

  Philip leaned forward and kissed him, slow and lingering, before striding off to the study. Amory went in the opposite direction and retrieved his sketchbook from the table near the fireplace in their bedchamber. Tucking the book under his arm, he returned downstairs. He settled into a chair out on the terrace and opened his sketchbook to a blank page, but he didn’t start drawing. He relaxed into the embrace of the deep cushions and tilted his head back to the warmth of the sun.

  He had never been anywhere like Alzata. He liked it there, liked how he felt there, liked more how Philip was there. Not that he didn’t like how Philip was at the palace, but he was different at Alzata, almost shockingly. At the palace, Philip’s gestures of affection were muted outside their suite. Philip took his arm, kissed his cheek, maybe a gentle chaste touch, but nothing more. At Alzata Philip kissed him in corridors and curled up with him on the terrace. And really kissed him on the terrace, so many kisses on the terrace last night. All of it without any hesitation.

  Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but Philip was always careful to observe the proper decorum back in the palace and city. Amory couldn’t fault his behavior—Philip was the ruling prince. He had duties and responsibilities and a certain image to maintain, and Amory understood that, as much as he could. But, Philip seemed to shed the cloak of his title at his estate. No one else was there except for the servants, and the staff had been handpicked by Philip’s mother and Philip for their loyalty and discretion above all. Amory could see how freeing that was in so many ways, to be out from the watchful eyes of his courtiers, and he loved it for Philip. He kind of loved it for himself too. Maybe they could visit more often.

  He opened his eyes and turned to his sketchbook. He would pass the time for however long Philip needed to work trying to capture the view down toward the lake on paper. The view was striking enough that he wanted to try, and beautiful enough that he wanted to remember it if he never made it back to Alzata. He would happily stay with Philip if he had any choice in the matter, but Philip was the prince, and Amory had already learned that sometimes there wasn’t such a thing as choice.

  He didn’t want to think about the chance he would have to leave. Instead, he started drawing, sketching and shading, trying to capture the arching trees and the light on the water. He absorbed himself in the drawing, letting it consume his focus and lull him into calm.

  Some time later, the sketch was taking shape, and he realized he wasn’t alone. He turned in his seat and smiled. Philip watched him with a fond expression on his face.

  “Are you done working?” Amory asked, keeping his voice level despite the warmth Philip’s expression kindled.

  “For now. I’ll have more to do tomorrow. I sent everything back to the palace with the messenger.” Philip strolled forward, stopping behind Amory’s chair. “It’s a beautiful drawing.”

  He glanced at it. Not bad, but not quite finished. “Thank you.”

  Philip leaned down, hanging over the back of Amory’s chair and Amory’s shoulders to get a closer look at the drawing, much as he had the first time he looked through Amory’s sketches. It was becoming a habit, and Amory loved having Philip so close, feeling the warmth of his body, breathing in the scent of him. If Philip wanted to study all of his drawings that way, Amory had no objections.

  Philip pressed a kiss to Amory’s jaw, and nuzzled his face into Amory’s neck. Or maybe Philip wasn’t interested in looking at his drawings after all. Amory hummed a little in the shivery pleasure of the touch. He rubbed his cheek against Philip’s soft hair, loving the happy almost-purr his action provoked.

  Philip kissed his neck again. “Do you want to draw some more?”

  He shivered at the feel of the whispered words against his skin. “Did you have something else in mind?”

  “I thought we might go to bed.”

  Heat spread through his body. Still, he tried for light teasing. “It’s the middle of the afternoon. Are you that tired after your paperwork?”

  “I’m not tired at all.” Philip continued his trail of light kisses along Amory’s neck in between words. “Bed?”

  He pulled back enough to look into Philip’s eyes. What he saw there stole his breath. If they went to bed, it wouldn’t be for more kisses and cuddles. It wouldn’t even be for what they could do with their hands and mouths. If they went to bed, he and Philip would leave it lovers in truth. “Yes.”

  “You’re certain?”

  He cupped Philip’s cheek and held his gaze. “Yes.”

  Those beautiful eyes blazed, and Philip drew him forward into a gentle kiss that quickly deepened and became more insistent. They were both breathing heavily when they parted. Philip straightened and held a hand out to Amory. He took it, allowing Philip to draw him to his feet, and walked into the house at Philip’s side, his hand held securely in Philip’s strong, warm clasp. They didn’t speak as they walked through the corridors and up the wide front stairs. They didn’t even look at each other. If they did, Amory doubted they would make it to their bedchamber before they started kissing and touching. And while he liked that Philip was freer with his affection, he didn’t want to do this in a corridor. Certainly not for the first time.

  Nervous anticipation hummed through him as they neared their bedchamber, but the nerves were less prominent than he would have expected. He was with Philip, and that made everything all right. Philip was the reason exc
itement was overcoming nerves, urging him to walk faster. He wanted Philip, wanted more than they’d done before. He wanted everything with Philip.

  He was falling in love with Philip.

  The realization hit him so unexpectedly and with such force, he had to stifle a gasp. He couldn’t love Philip. They hadn’t known each other long enough for love, surely. And falling in love with a prince was a bad idea anyway.

  Before he could think too much about it, Philip tugged him into their bedchamber, and before Amory could blink, he had Amory’s back against the closed door. Philip pressed against him, and kissed him. The kiss was deep and passionate, but also sweet and almost reverent. Philip’s hands on his face felt cherishing, and the last of Amory’s nerves were swept away.

  Philip pulled back a little. “Amory.”

  “Yes,” he gasped in response to the rough whisper.

  They stumbled farther into the room, fingers fumbling with the fastenings of each other’s clothing. Thankfully, they were dressed far less formally than they would have been at the palace. The simple clothes shed easier under Amory’s suddenly clumsy fingers than the more formal ones would have. Then they were standing naked before each other for the first time.

  Everything they’d done before had been under clothes and covers. Amory wasn’t sure why, a bit of shyness perhaps on his part, maybe consideration on Philip’s. But he could see all of Philip at that moment, and he looked at him greedily, drinking in the sight of all the pale golden skin covering sleek muscles and long limbs, the dusting of dark hair on his chest, the trail of it leading down…. He felt himself flush looking at the thick, hard flesh and thinking about it inside him. He wanted Philip inside, but his nerves didn’t calm entirely with that desire.

  Philip was studying him just as intently. He could feel his blush deepen at the scrutiny. Philip raised his gaze, and Amory’s breath caught at the look in Philip’s eyes—desire and deep affection and something like awe. The momentary resurgence of his nerves calmed under Philip’s gaze. He was with Philip, and everything would be wonderful.

  “You’re beautiful, even more than I imagined.”

  He shook his head. No, he wasn’t beautiful, but Philip was.

  “You are.” Before Amory could respond, Philip was kissing him again. Deep kisses that made him moan and ache for more.

  They tumbled onto the big soft bed, rolling across the velvet coverlet in a tangle of limbs. Amory’s hands were greedy as they stroked over Philip’s smooth skin, greedy to map every inch of him. Philip’s touch felt the same on Amory’s body, but so very gentle too. Cherishing still, and Amory reveled in it, in every caress and grasping hand.

  Suddenly, he found himself beneath Philip, stretched full length against him, skin to skin. Amory gasped into the kiss, Philip’s body a welcome weight pressing him into the mattress. He never could have imagined it, never could have imagined anything, feeling so good. He wound his arms tightly around Philip, letting his fingers explore and clutch at the smooth expanse of Philip’s broad back, and threw himself into the kiss. He could have drowned in the sweetness of it, but he didn’t want that—he wanted to show Philip how much it meant to him. So he poured everything he had into kissing Philip. All of the desire, all of the new feeling that probably was love, all of the wonder that Philip would want this with him when he could have anyone.

  Pulling back from the kiss, Philip smiled down at him tenderly, and that was beautiful and amazing too. Amory reached up and traced Philip’s smile with his fingertips before curving his hand around the back of Philip’s neck. He tugged Philip down into another kiss, and moaned as Philip’s fingers swept down his chest, brushing over his nipples and curving around his waist. He pressed up into the kiss, hungry for much more.

  After long moments, Philip broke away with a gasp. “Ready?”

  “Please.”

  Philip stole a quick kiss before leaning over Amory and reaching for the nightstand. With the gorgeous expanse of that chest right in front of him, Amory couldn’t resist. He ran his palms over its planes, tangled his fingers in the dark hair there, brushed Philip’s nipples with his thumbs. Philip groaned and Amory grinned.

  “You’re going to kill me.”

  Amory’s grin widened. “A good way to go?”

  Philip moved, sliding back over Amory until they were face-to-face, the drag of Philip’s body against his pulling a moan from Amory’s throat. “The best.”

  He laughed. Yes, it was. And he wanted more of it. Philip must have realized it, because he opened the vial of oil he’d retrieved from the nightstand drawer. A pleasant faintly herbal scent perfumed the air as Philip coated his fingers in the pale gold oil.

  Philip raised his gaze to Amory’s, seeming to search for something, and he must have found it because he reached down between them, his fingers unerringly finding that small opening and stroking over it gently. Amory gasped. No one had ever touched him there, and he hadn’t expected it to feel so good. Another stroke of Philip’s fingers, and his legs fell farther open as he moaned.

  Philip kissed him again. “Just relax and let me in, all right?”

  He nodded and forced himself to relax as Philip pushed his finger inside. It felt odd, but not painful as he’d feared. Then Philip began to move his finger, and all he could do was moan. He felt utterly wanton, but Philip kissed him again, deep and slow. Philip kept kissing him as he moved that finger inside him, stroking in and out for the longest time before he added another finger and another. The stretch of the last finger wasn’t comfortable, but Philip was gentle and slow, and then he brushed over a spot inside that made it feel like sparks were going off within Amory. Philip’s smile took on a wicked edge, and he stroked that spot over and over again until Amory was writhing beneath him, the pleasure of it almost too much to bear.

  “Please, Pip, please now.”

  “Yes,” Philip answered, his voice ragged. Amory was gratified he wasn’t the only one coming apart at the seams, but that only went so far.

  He wanted Philip inside him. He needed Philip inside him.

  Philip didn’t seem inclined to argue. He swiped more oil on his hard member, and pressed it to Amory, pushing inside before Amory had a chance to think of becoming nervous again. Not altogether comfortable at first, but the feeling eased as Philip slid ever so slowly into Amory. His eyes fell shut. He was so full, because Philip was inside him, filling him. The thought was almost overwhelming.

  When Amory opened his eyes, Philip was looking down at him, his expression achingly tender. He looked into Amory’s eyes, searching, and something about that soothed. “You’re all right?”

  “Yes.” He looked up into that beautiful, dear face. Philip would wait if Amory needed him to, Philip would even stop, putting his pleasure on hold for Amory’s comfort. He knew that, and it made him love Philip more. “Move now?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Philip moved slowly at first, then faster. And it was so good, so very good. Better than Amory imagined, and he knew the physical feeling wasn’t the reason. It felt so right because he was with Philip and Philip was inside him, connected to him in a way he had never been connected to anyone before. He’d been right to wait, to wait for it to be Philip. The intimacy would have been wrong with anyone else.

  Philip’s gaze, intense and dark with passion and something else, something Amory couldn’t quite name, held his the entire time they moved together. The intensity of that connection was almost too much, but just right too. He was so caught by Philip’s gaze that his release caught him unaware, rising up and sweeping him away like a wave. He gasped out Philip’s name and clutched at him, his eyes fluttering shut against his will. He wanted to keep them open, to keep looking at Philip.

  A moment later, Philip stiffened and cried out Amory’s name. He forced his eyes open and watched pleasure wash over Philip’s face. Philip lowered himself to Amory, burying his face in Amory’s neck, and Amory gathered him close. He could get used to having Philip so close, to feeling his weigh
t. Far too soon, Philip moved off of him, but he didn’t go far, sliding to his side and pulling Amory with him until they lay on their sides facing each other.

  Philip looked concerned, but Amory couldn’t quite find words. So he smiled and reached for Philip. The concern dissipated, replaced by a glow of happiness. Philip’s lips met his softly, and they sank into lazy, sweet kisses, and that was so good too. He almost felt as if he was the one purring into the kisses as Philip’s arms held him close.

  When the kisses slowed and stopped, he nuzzled closer to Philip and closed his eyes with a happy sigh. He could feel Philip’s chuckle vibrating in his chest as much as hear it. “I suppose a nap would be nice.”

  Somehow Philip managed to get them both under the rumpled blankets and sheets without dislodging Amory too much, leaving them tangled together under the blankets. Philip began combing his fingers through Amory’s hair, and he hummed in pleasure at the sensation.

  “You’re all right?”

  A glow of warmth spread through him at the care and concern in Philip’s whispered question. He settled his head more firmly on Philip’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to warm, bare skin. “Very much better than all right.”

  “Good.” Philip kissed the top of his head. “Me too.”

  “Good. We have to do that again soon.”

  Philip’s soft laughter followed him down into sleep.

  SOON TURNED out to be as soon as they woke up from a long nap. Philip worried about hurting Amory by making love again so soon, but he gave in to Amory’s reassurances. Maybe he gave in too fast, but the temptation was too much. He wanted to be with Amory again, craved it. The contact, the connection, the overwhelming pleasure, and all of it with Amory. It had been so much better with Amory than he’d dreamed. So much better than it ever was with Vasco.