A Swithin Spin: A Princely Passion

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  He didn’t know if he’d go so far as to say that, but yes, that was along the right lines at least and sounded uncomplicated. “I’m not sure. I mean, we could, once we get back to the city, anytime we felt like it. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  “In that case, now that my ankle is up to cooperating, yes. Of course, maybe that’s why you healed my ankle.”

  Stifling his dissent, Kilan hesitated. The thought that Antal didn’t really mean that, and then the thought that he did, went through Kilan’s mind as fast as it came. Even so, was he ready for this? He hadn’t truly believed Antal would want even one night with him. Now they lay here discussing it as if everyone talked about sex instead of actually doing it. Nothing seemed normal about this situation. He’d let go of the light earlier, plunging them once more into darkness. He considered reaching for it again, but Antal had already moved, pushing him back against the ground. Much to Kilan’s surprise, he went down. The blanket lay in a heap beside them and then…then there was only the heat of Antal’s mouth against his, plundering. Kilan accepted the intrusion, and then tried to respond in kind, with more force, pushing and shoving his tongue up, seeking the cavern of Antal’s mouth. Antal evaded him. Frowning, unable to see, only feel, Kilan still gazed up into the darkness above him, guessing where Antal’s face must be. If they were going to do this, there had to be more than…this, but even as he thought it, Kilan wondered why. An impersonal fuck was exactly what he’d wanted…didn’t he?

  “We should be naked,” Antal said, and Kilan at once fumbled with the fastenings at his waist even as he felt Antal rear back, no doubt to shed the jacket. Yes! He wanted this. Hard and quick. That would be perfect. Hands reached down to help him, easing his frantic movements. For some reason that made both his emotions and desire peak. Kilan chose to concentrate on the sex. By the comet, he so wanted to spill his cock out into Antal’s questing hands. He wanted Antal to grasp him. Antal denied his wishes.

  “Wha…” He didn’t get to finish the question. Antal pressed him back, pushing up his tunic as he did so. High, higher, pushing, lifting the garment, and then Kilan dipped his head, wriggling his shoulders, helping Antal assist him out of it. He expected Antal to do he knew not what -- kiss him, fondle him -- but when cold distance continued to separate them, Kilan tuned in to his hearing. From sound alone, he deduced that Antal rummaged in the pack. He must be searching for the lubricant. Kilan caught his hand, and yes, he could feel the small jar in Antal’s grasp.

  “I’ll do that for you,” he told the darkness.

  “You’ll prepare yourself? How accommodating.”

  Kilan frowned. For a moment, Antal’s meaning escaped him. He was more taken with the way Antal spoke. He didn’t like the level of control in the other man’s tone, or rather he liked it but feared it more than he could ever have anticipated. He found that suggestion of supremacy almost worse than the idea that his emotions were caught up in what they were doing. When Antal’s words finally made sense, Kilan almost laughed. The idea that he only found it a little amusing shocked him to silence. Antal couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t mean… How had Antal made such a mistake? How to explain it? He forgot all about fearing his emotional state and began worrying about something else entirely. “Um… I usually…”

  Antal bent over him. Their shared heat combined with the cold air to raise goose bumps. He whispered, the heat of his breath playing into Kilan’s ear, choking off the air in Kilan’s throat. “You what? You usually get to act like royalty? You usually get to take? You usually have grateful little orifices begging for a princely prick?”

  “It isn’t like that,” Kilan protested. To his dismay, he experienced a shocking onset of tears. He didn’t know why he cared what Antal thought of him, but he just did. “Stop saying those things. If you’re annoyed with me, fine. Say so. We can discuss it or argue about it, but stop saying things like that.” He tensed, ready to fight off the other man even if he wondered whether he sounded childish. His erection wilted. Above him, Antal hesitated.

  “All right, maybe I spoke in order to taunt you, but you can hardly blame me.” That voice sounded gentle, even a little apologetic. Kilan felt glad to hear it, but this emotional upheaval was too much.

  “Maybe not, but…” What could he say? He had spied on Antal. “Accuse me of what I really did to you, not of being conceited and arrogant.”

  “You are, a little.”

  He didn’t know whether to argue with that, for this time Antal sounded more like his normal self: amused.

  “Are we going to have sex or not?” Kilan complained, at the same time thinking his cock would need a little encouragement. It amazed him to realize how much he cared what Antal thought of him, especially at a time when he was so close to having sex with him.

  “If you’ll stop playing the virgin.”

  “But I --”

  Antal kissed him, silencing him. In the meantime, his hands were busy, lifting, pushing Kilan’s legs open, up, back toward his chest so that his legs naturally parted, falling out to the sides while Antal insinuated himself between the prince’s thighs. Although all this affected him physically, Kilan struggled against the kiss. When he managed to fight his way clear, he protested. “This doesn’t feel natural. This isn’t what I had in mind. I thought I was going to --”

  “Oh no.” Kilan could tell Antal was shaking his head, because the drape of his hair brushed against Kilan’s chest. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way.”

  Antal wasn’t sure if Kilan called the light intentionally or some part of him just needed the comfort, but a glowing nimbus surrounded them. Once their sight adjusted, they stared at each other. Antal liked what he saw; the threat of a smile tugged his lips to one side. He didn’t want to smile; he wanted Kilan to realize he was in earnest.

  Although not usually one to be this demanding, something about Kilan’s attitude just called to that part of his nature. Kilan had come here wanting to penetrate him. He didn’t know why, but he’d known of Kilan’s interest. He just hadn’t taken time to consider it, his mind too full of other concerns and his body disinclined toward sex. Well, the statue had changed that. A few days ago, he’d experienced a fleeting willingness for someone to penetrate him. The statue had fulfilled that desire. Now he wanted to sink his cock into someplace tight, someplace hot. Kilan was perfect. Antal was naked, chilled, had suffered the pain of an injury, felt hungry and more than a little peeved at the prince. The uncertain look in Kilan’s eyes proved most satisfying.

  “I can’t… I don’t… I mean…” Kilan suddenly looked and sounded younger than his years. Antal raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never…”

  Antal blinked, the realization of what Kilan was saying hitting him like a slap. He asked the truth of that with his gaze, the skin around his eyes tightening in a small questioning frown. “You’re trying to tell me you are a virgin?”

  Kilan’s flushed. “I’ve been with women and men. Just not… I’ve always…” Words apparently failed him.

  “Ah,” Antal murmured, the fiendish part of his nature coming to the fore. “So you really did think you’d get to come here and be the one doing the fucking.” He couldn’t have sworn to it, but he felt certain Kilan’s blush deepened. He loved it.

  “Do you have to put it like that? I just thought --”

  “You just thought you’d be the one penetrating. You’d be the one dominating.” Antal laced his voice with disapproval, although he didn’t mean it. He grinned.

  “Well…yes. Not the way you say it. I didn’t have some despicable plan.”

  “So you won’t mind,” Antal said softly, “if I substitute your plan with one of my own?”

  Kilan opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, and without giving him a chance, Antal slipped a hand between them and touched him where the prince claimed to never have been penetrated. He deliberately kept his touch light, caressing, gently circling. Kilan gasped, his breath hitching, his eyes closing, his body jerking. An
tal tried to keep his grin from spreading. Kilan hadn’t been lying. The way Kilan reacted anyone would think he was torturing him.

  “You’re truly never been touched here before?” Antal knew he failed to keep his wonderment and delight from his voice. Kilan’s eyes shot open at the remark. The younger man stared up at him, his eyes wide, his gaze a tad crazed.

  Antal took the opportunity to grease his fingers. He proceeded to make another circular motion against Kilan’s most intimate flesh. Kilan whimpered. Oh, that whimper was priceless!

  Kilan’s gaze flicked over Antal’s face, and only then did Antal realize how wild he must look himself. “You want this, Kilan?” he whispered. “You want this, then it happens my way. I won’t hurt you,” he stressed, capturing Kilan’s gaze with his own at the same moment that he pressed a finger home.

  Kilan’s eyes widened in shock and then narrowed. His mouth gaped, but Antal knew how to locate the right spot that would silence any complaint.

  Oh by the… By the what? Oh yes, the comet. Oh by the comet, that was…

  Actually, that wasn’t at all as he’d imagined. It felt nice. Better than nice.

  Liar.

  Fine. It felt bloody fabulous, but oh…

  Kilan turned his face to the side. He tried to draw on the comet and experienced a wave of panic when it refused to respond. When he considered he shouldn’t be willing to use the comet against Antal, that he didn’t want to hurt him, gratitude that the comet eluded him washed in to drown his alarm. That finger moved inside him, tickling, teasing.

  “Don’t even pretend to hate this.”

  Kilan ignored Antal’s admonishment. When he spoke, he tried to sound contemptuous and failed miserably. “Just because I don’t hate it doesn’t mean I like it.”

  In reply, Antal inserted a second finger, and as well as the in-and-out motion, used a corkscrewing one.

  Oh for… Kilan lost to the darkness behind his eyes. He writhed, pushing, pulling at Antal, unsure if he tried to push the other man away or tug him closer. When Antal captured both of Kilan’s wrists in a single one of his hands and pushed them back over his head, Kilan stared up at him, astonished. “Leave them there,” Antal instructed, releasing him and yet…not. He might not be holding him down physically, but Antal’s gaze demanded he…obey. Kilan hesitated, frowning, wondering where that thought had come from. Antal couldn’t command him just to lie there, and yet somehow he had. Why did the idea send such a thrill through his mind and body? Even as Antal took to stretching him, his intention clear, Kilan couldn’t move. He didn’t know if he wanted to, but that didn’t make sense. He certainly didn’t want this to end in his being penetrated. He’d never wanted that, and nothing had changed. It hadn’t. It didn’t matter that Antal wanted him even though he had longed for that very thing.

  He couldn’t help it; his gaze flicked down between their bodies, his eyes widening. Where his own cock lay sleeping, Antal’s pointed the way, dark in color and plump with arousal. He could only describe Antal’s cock as rampant, burgeoning, and altogether threatening. Any other time his thoughts might have struck him as comical, but not now. In contrast, his cock lay semi-tumescent, placid almost, if not quite flaccid.

  Antal noticed where his gaze lay. “We’ll get that up for you by the time I’m through,” he said with a chuckle.

  Kilan groaned, his head falling back. He’d never imagined any of this. Nothing was as it should be. He’d certainly never envisioned being limp. “I don’t need help, thank you. I’m just…” What was he, exactly?

  “Nervous?” Antal prompted, and yes, it was true. Not wishing to, Kilan nodded, agreeing.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” Antal repeated, his voice a caress this time. Something bright and determined existed in Antal’s gaze, but there existed also kindness. “Kilan, I’m not going to force you.”

  “That’s a peculiar thing for a Swithin to say,” Kilan couldn’t help remarking. The Swithin regarded such things as abominable. So far, their culture was free of rape.

  “I know, but the look on your face…” Antal’s gaze studied him. “You don’t need to feel afraid.”

  No matter how much he kept denying what was happening, Kilan took comfort from the tenderness in Antal’s voice. “You said --”

  “I said if we do this, we do it my way. I didn’t say you had no choice.”

  Oddly, in that moment, Kilan wanted Antal to take away his choice. Not…force him, exactly, but make the decision. He wanted sex with Antal, but he didn’t know if he wanted the things Antal clearly intended to do to him. All he knew was hands; one set of fingers stroking his face, the other set pressing, insistent inside him, the sensation half-pleasurable, half-burning. Kilan chose silence, hoping to indicate yes, and Antal took his lead, moving up against him. Only one thought went through Kilan’s head. How was that ever going to fit? It would. He knew it would. He’d had sex with both males and females. He found it incredibly erotic to see his cock sinking into another person’s body. The ensuing and shared delight of those instances seemed to indicate his fears were for nothing. Other people loved doing this, so why shouldn’t he? Even so, he couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. Am I really going to do this?

  Part of him protested. Part of him acknowledged his true question. Did he want to do this with Antal? In that moment he realized that if he lay with any other man, he would have refused, but he’d invested too much time, too much emotion where Antal was concerned. He…cared for Antal more than he wanted to admit. He found Antal beautiful, intelligent, creative, skilled, and courageous. Antal was everything he wanted to be but was certain he wasn’t. To have Antal look at him the way the guard looked at him now… He had never expected that heated gaze. He had never expected to see desire of any kind as Antal looked at him. He supposed in a small way he worshipped him. He simply couldn’t refuse. To have this with Antal… No one could take it away from him. He just hoped he didn’t do something stupid to spoil it.

  Antal watched for signs of anxiety on Kilan’s face. He saw what he’d expected. Not dread but uncertainty mixed with a healthy dose of curiosity and a touch of excitement. Antal would have preferred to see a little more excitement, but he understood Kilan’s reservations. He just appeared a little more reserved than most. Wanting to make this good for Kilan, Antal bent forward to kiss him. He connected them at their mouths, teased Kilan’s tongue into playing. When he thought the kiss was enough of a distraction, he rubbed the tip of his cock against Kilan’s body. The slight sound that Kilan moaned into his mouth told Antal that Kilan had noticed, but the kiss had done what he hoped it would -- united them and relieved Kilan’s dread.

  Easing back from the kiss because of the angle necessary, he continued to use his fingers to gently stretch that sweet rosette, at the same time rubbing his cock where it so wanted to penetrate. He gradually eased from one degree of force to another, watching Kilan’s frown tighten in unison with the increasing pressure. With his gaze he followed every movement of Kilan’s eyes, staring, making the other man gaze back, making sure Kilan knew he saw him, understood what he was feeling. Incredibly, Kilan’s arms lay over his head where Antal had told him to leave them. Kilan gasped at the moment of entry and then bit at his lip. Antal could read the pain on his face even before Kilan began shaking his head. Antal eased back.

  “I know,” he whispered, purposely speaking low, keeping even his voice intimate. “I know it’s painful. I know it’s intense. It’s the first time. Two, three, four times…by then you’ll love this. Believe me, it’s worth it.” Antal could see the calculation of whether this would happen again in Kilan’s gaze, of whether Kilan would allow it, even while the prince considered whether to believe him. He could also see his anticipation when Antal said it would be worth the suffering. Kilan’s cock certainly appeared to agree; it rose up eagerly.

  He didn’t know how anyone could stand the discomfort, yet when Antal said it was just because this was his first time, Kilan believed him. People wouldn’t do
this if it felt terrible. It was terrible; that bright spark of pain inside him insisted this was madness, and yet even in the midst of the pain, he felt other sensations. Each time it became unbearable, Antal eased off before trying again. Each time, just as he thought he would have to beg Antal to stop, Antal backed off, then nudged his way back inside.

  Only when a hand took hold of his cock did Kilan realize that not only was Antal slowly thrusting in and out of him, deep enough but not too deep, but also that Antal supported his weight on one hand and played with him with the other. Fingers fondled his cock and balls, and that distracted him from the pain. He was still nervous, but some part of him felt most definitely excited. Antal’s gaze flicked down to where he clasped Kilan.

  “That’s better,” Antal whispered, laughter in his voice, giving Kilan’s erection a squeeze that made him squirm.

  For some reason he’d expected Antal’s sudden dominance to manifest in roughness, but this wasn’t rough. The thrusting in and pulling out felt rhythmic, not exactly slow but not what he would call fast. The thrust inward shot little jolts of pain into him, through him, but the pulling out… Ah, that was misleading. It brought relief, even pleasure, but no sooner did his body respond to that than the jolt happened again. Kilan had started this believing he preferred the pulling out, but now, with Antal’s grip on his dick, he wasn’t so sure.

  Through all this feeling, the bright, blinding thought rendered him asunder: Antal was inside him. They were joined physically. Emotionally… Antal stared at him. Even as the enormity of having another person’s body connected to his struck Kilan in a way it hadn’t before, Antal tilted his head in such a way that Kilan knew, just knew, Antal saw him. Antal looked at him in a way that went beyond what they were doing. Even as Antal shook his head, Kilan could tell what he was saying without his having to speak. Didn’t it take years for lovers to understand each other on that kind of level? He knew what Antal meant: later. They could face their feelings later. Now was the time for sex.