A Swithin Spin: A Princely Passion

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  “You know how to make this stop?”

  Kilan nodded. There was a word he could say; he just wasn’t sure he would be able to say it. “Antal?” he said before things went too far, before he knew he would lose the ability to speak. “This isn’t like you. It’s not like me.”

  Those amber eyes burned into his, making Kilan’s eyes sting. He wanted to turn his head away, close his eyes, maybe even turn his back or go so far as to leave the room and shut the door between them. Even then, some part of him felt sure he would continue to feel the force of Antal’s gaze.

  “How do you know what I’m like? How do you know how I am in bed?” Antal murmured.

  “I…don’t, not really. I just…always thought you’d laugh during sex. Be playful.”

  “Oh, I can laugh. I can be playful.” The gentle smile that formed on Antal’s face softened the searing force of his stare. Kilan could breathe again. “I can also be serious.”

  “You’ve done this before?”

  “Semaris? Yes. Just never this seriously.”

  Kilan clasped his hands into fists to stop them shaking. “Never this…” He shook his head. He couldn’t go through with this, yet he couldn’t walk away. “I’m afraid.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  Sliding a hand around his face, Antal cupped the left side of Kilan’s cheek and chin. “Afraid of me?”

  Kilan shook his head. Did he have to tell Antal he was afraid of himself, of what he felt? When he met the other man’s gaze, he realized how much Antal understood what he was going through. Antal saw him in a way no one else had, and it left him naked and vulnerable, stripped of every pretense. The feeling felt as horrid as it felt wonderful.

  “I know,” Antal said. “I’m the one breaking the rules this time. I know we’ve skipped the formalities. We’ll get to them, I promise you.” That promise seemed laced with so much more than a pledge, but also with feelings. “We should agree on the limitations, and the duration, but I don’t think we’re there yet. Tonight… This is about us… I don’t know. Saying hello, maybe. Getting to know each other on a level we’ve never considered exploring. It feels…right, and that’s all I know. I think our limits and the time we take will somehow take care of itself. Does that make sense to you?”

  It shouldn’t have, but it did. Kilan nodded.

  “We’ll talk…afterward. This evening, somehow it’s about learning, for both of us. I want this with you,” Antal whispered as if he wished to give his words weight, make Kilan believe him. “I don’t know why, but you bring out this side of me, and I’m enjoying it. You seem to like it even though you struggle with it, and I like that you’re struggling. Even now, you’re standing there so undecided. I don’t know where this is going. I don’t know what we’ll want come morning, or next week, or next month, but I do know I want this night with you. I want this night, and I want to see how you and I feel about each other when the sun rises. I think it’s worth finding out, don’t you?”

  Worth finding out, maybe, but Kilan wasn’t sure he could pay the price, because if they failed, there would never be another night. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he felt it. If they enjoyed their time together tonight, then they would negotiate, and that would mean a true semaris relationship. He didn’t feel certain he was prepared for that, but he wasn’t going to leave. If he was so unprepared, why had he come here in the first place? Antal stepped closer. His gaze hardened, not as burning as it had felt previously, but enough to make Kilan’s stomach roll over.

  “I thought you wanted to let go of responsibility, Kilan. Let me take charge tonight.”

  “You’re the one who’s supposed to take a break from being in control.” Kilan tried to step to the side, out of Antal’s reach. Antal caught him by the collar. One finger shouldn’t have contained enough strength to jerk him back into place, but obviously it did. Either that or Kilan truly was the perfect target for Antal’s desires. Why fight him?

  “You hate responsibility, Kilan. Admit it.”

  “I don’t exactly make it a secret.”

  “Did you know you’re naturally suited to semaris in a passive role?”

  Kilan stared at Antal, speechless. When he finally managed to speak, he started to argue. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “You can’t avoid your obligations, but you can give up some responsibility, as much or as little as you want to, with me. Just as Ryanac has shown me I need to take time away from my duties, so do you. You’re more lucky than most. With the right partner, you can be submissive all the time where your love life is concerned.”

  Kilan laughed. “Are you suggesting you’d be the right partner?”

  Antal’s gaze darted from side to side, unnerving in its intensity. “I think so. I think I struggle to let go of control, and that this would be a way I could relax yet still have things my own way.”

  “You see me as weak?”

  “Ah, Kilan, no.”

  “You must.” This time he truly felt close to tears, mildly disgusted with himself. “To recognize this in me, you must see me as someone weaker than you.”

  “Semaris isn’t about weakness. The submissive partner always has a choice.”

  “I know the theory!” Kilan snapped. Antal blinked at him, and Kilan softened his voice. “I know the theory. I just can’t accept that I…that I…” What was the use? “That I want this,” he admitted. “Something is telling me I shouldn’t want this.”

  “Why?”

  He understood Antal’s question. Sex was sex in all its forms. Being Swithin, he shouldn’t be thinking this way, but he was a Swithin prince. “I have to rule. Sometimes that scares me, but I have to rule.”

  “I know you’d do your duty. I know you’d never run when needed. Hating responsibility doesn’t mean you’re incapable.”

  Kilan struggled to decipher Antal’s meaning. “You think me capable?”

  “Very. When Markis needed you, you did what he needed. You helped to save Uly. You suffered considerable pain in doing so, but you did it without complaint.”

  “Not exactly,” Kilan murmured. Antal grinned.

  “You did well. Accept it. Enjoy it. Learn to enjoy the unexpected.”

  Kilan felt certain Antal was talking about the way things had unexpectedly progressed between them. He? In a semaris relationship? With Antal?

  “Kilan, you profess to hate responsibility, yet you detest people telling you what to do. That in itself most people would see as a contradiction.”

  Antal sounded a little too patronizing, a little too lecturing, but Kilan bit his tongue, prepared to listen to him.

  “You fight just about every order everyone gives you. Your being insubordinate is a way of taking control of your destiny. Don’t you see that?”

  “I…suppose.” When he thought about it, it did make sense.

  “Yet you do want a way to find release from the one thing you cannot get away from. You carry this power within you, a power that wants you to use it as naturally as your body has lungs that need to breathe. You need a release from that, from the need to think. You can trust me to do that for you, and you know it.”

  Put like that, Kilan couldn’t argue.

  “I, on the other hand -- as much as I’m in command most of my waking hours -- also follow orders. Every day of my life as a guard, I am both dominant as well as submissive. Can you see that?”

  Kilan nodded.

  “Semaris isn’t so far from the way we lead our lives; it’s hardly surprising if we should find ourselves suited to it, but now isn’t the time to discuss that. Now is the time to discover if we have any chance of being what we both need. So this once, no negotiations. No discussion. Let me take the lead. Let me do this for you and for me. Trust me. Trust me to know what I’m doing and that I won’t hurt you.”

  How could anyone say no to that?

  “This is too loose, don’t you agree?” Antal fingered the collar, then unfastened it, paused, searching Kilan’s eyes. Kilan struggled not t
o wriggle under that concentrated gaze, and then Antal adjusted the length, fastening it again. The sensation of soft leather, combined with the feeling of restriction as Antal buckled it just short of tight, stole Kilan’s breath.

  Raising a hand, Antal brushed Kilan’s hair to one side, looping it behind an ear, loving the sweep of it as it refused to stay in place and swung forward. He loved the uncertain look in Kilan’s eyes only a touch more. He adored the fear that wasn’t quite terror in the other man’s expression. “Trust me, Kilan,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.” He wasn’t as experienced as some in the art of semaris, but the few times he’d participated, it seemed to come naturally to him, and never had it come more naturally than this. Something in Kilan just begged Antal to take charge of him. He knew just how to begin.

  “Remove your clothes, Kilan.”

  Caring for nudity only by appreciation, even so, Antal would remain dressed for now. He had chosen a robe so he could allow easy access to his body without having to strip completely. By commanding Kilan to undress, he reinforced the idea in Kilan’s mind that he obeyed an order. Antal could have chosen to remove Kilan’s clothes, but that would be more of a seduction, something he instinctively felt wasn’t what either he or Kilan wanted right now. They’d have time for gentleness another day if they commenced a relationship.

  Tonight was about setting up the parameters of that relationship, and that meant Antal in charge and Kilan accepting his orders. He wanted Kilan to undress willingly. He wanted Kilan naked while he remained covered. He wanted Kilan at a disadvantage. The thought made his heart race. He would like to have considered it just sex. If they still liked each other and wanted more come morning, Antal knew his life was going to get even more complicated. As strong as Kilan was, even if he didn’t know it, he was also delicate when it came to his feelings. Antal faced the responsibility of protecting Kilan’s heart. He didn’t want to hurt the young prince; Kilan didn’t deserve that. He just wanted to hurt him enough so they could both enjoy it. He’d take the prince’s enjoyment as much into consideration as his own.

  The prince had spoken correctly when he’d said Antal wasn’t like this. He seldom behaved like this, wanted this, and yet Kilan… To think not so long ago he’d been moody and surly because of having to give so many orders, and the one way he could relax was to seemingly give orders in his time off.

  How could one explain desire? How could one explain recognizing a mutual need? How lucky were you to find someone with which to satisfy such a need, and at what moment did you realize you were in love? Antal had none of the answers, only the knowledge of what he wanted and that what he wanted, they both would enjoy.

  Kilan hadn’t moved. “I said undress…and do it slowly.”

  Had a man ever fainted just from removing his clothes? Of course, that alone wouldn’t set his heart palpitating. What did was the idea that Antal watched his every move, smiled his approval -- smiles that made Kilan’s insides quiver -- and corrected him when he did something not to his liking. He couldn’t account for the fact that pleasing Antal, seeing that smile appear, pleased him in turn. Even so, he felt awkward undressing even though it shouldn’t feel this difficult to get naked.

  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” He winced. “Sorry. I guess I should have asked…” Should have asked if I could speak. The idea struck him as foolish, but somehow not foolish at all. There existed a side to this that unnerved him; it was supposed to unnerve him.

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t speak. I’ll tell you if I want you silent.”

  He wanted to laugh, but he took Antal at his word.

  “You’re hiding yourself.”

  He saw no use in denying the accusation. He stood there naked yet held on to his clothes, the front of his body turned away.

  “Let go, Kilan,” Antal said, and he didn’t think Antal just meant his clothing. “Drop your clothes. No. Fold them, and then face me. I want to ask you something.”

  Dropping his clothes felt difficult enough. Going through the seemingly meticulous process of folding them and placing them on a chair he found undeniably intimidating. He fumbled with the garments, feeling Antal’s gaze following his every action as if he was judging him. Did Antal’s guards feel this way when undergoing inspection? He wanted to giggle, but that way led to hysteria.

  When he turned back to face Antal, he couldn’t bring his head up. He couldn’t stand to see that persistent gaze. Fighting to keep his hands at his sides and to stand there in nothing but a collar took all his strength. He wasn’t capable of anything more.

  “Tell me, Kilan…” Antal began but then paused, pacing, until Kilan clenched his teeth together to stop from crying out for him to just get on with it and ask his damn question. As if he knew Kilan’s thoughts, Antal came to an abrupt halt, then tilted his head, looking at Kilan sideways. “I take it you’ve never had a man in your mouth,” he said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As gently as Antal had worded that, making it a statement rather than a question, still it echoed over and over in Kilan’s brain.

  “Kilan, look at me.”

  If silence was the answer he wanted, then Antal had it. If he wanted Kilan to use his voice, he wasn’t sure he could. Shock jolted him, not that Antal would ask but because he felt equally excited as he was afraid, or maybe because he felt as afraid as he was excited; he couldn’t tell which. Everything seemed so confusing, and yet he even enjoyed the turmoil in some perverse way.

  “Kilan. Look at me. Listen to me. Slow down your breathing.”

  Finally, the anxiety in Antal’s voice broke through. Antal was right. He needed to calm down. He’d hyperventilate. He tried to take a better, clearer breath and failed. His breathing hitched, and for a second there he couldn’t get any air. Kilan shook his head, scared.

  “Na…” That wasn’t a word. He didn’t even know what he’d intended to say. Antal reached out and touched him, his fingertips gently caressing the sides of his face.

  “Breathe, Kilan. With me.” Antal waited for his attention and then visibly took a slow, deep breath. Kilan tried to copy the action, and slowly his breathing eased. It took him a few failed attempts to match his breathing to that of the other man’s, but finally his panic lessened. Leaning in, Antal tilted his head for a kiss. Kilan accepted the peace offering. When he broke the kiss, Antal pressed their foreheads together.

  “Semaris doesn’t mean force. You know that.”

  He did. He just wasn’t sure the line hadn’t blurred in his thinking. Antal searched his gaze.

  “Kilan, I can’t make out if you truly want this or not.”

  That made two of them. “If I say that I do and I don’t, does that make sense?”

  The concern on Antal’s face diminished. “Perfect sense.”

  I’m glad it makes sense to someone. Antal still watched his face.

  “I could ask if you want to continue, but I don’t think you want me to ask, do you?”

  It took Kilan a moment to work his way through what felt like a verbal maze, and then he shook his head.

  “What do you want, Kilan?”

  The way Antal kept using his name began to irritate, yet he felt sure Antal did it for a reason. Every time he heard his name on Antal’s lips, it felt as if a small piece of him fractured inside. He shook his head more forcefully. Please don’t ask me. He didn’t want to admit to what he felt. That was precisely why Antal inquired. Antal’s grip tightened, the ensuing pain in Kilan’s jaw breaking through his confusion even as Antal repeated the question. Pain could be part of semaris, but the reason for this grip was insistence.

  Call the comet.

  His instinct called to him even though he had no such intention, even as he opened his mouth to respond. It felt as if Antal’s grip wrenched the words out of him. “I want to do…what you want me to do. I want to do…what pleases you.” He glanced into Antal’s eyes, smarting from that bright gaze. “I want this,” he whispered. Somehow the whisper cont
ained more force than a shout would have. It made his words sound more honest. He was telling Antal the truth, and he had to make Antal know it even though the confession frightened him so. “I want this…with you.”

  Closing his eyes, Antal savored the moment of victory. Despite his instincts telling him he’d read the situation correctly, Antal hadn’t felt entirely certain. Kilan seemed so nervous, looked so innocent that the line of power had shifted. Although he was leading more than he should have for a first session, he didn’t want Kilan to forget he had a choice. Now he had the answer he needed. Still, he wanted to make Kilan aware of exactly what would happen here tonight. He stepped closer, fingering the length of Kilan’s hair, threading his fingers through it. He teased the edge of Kilan’s mouth with his lips, never once giving Kilan the kiss he so obviously longed for.

  “I want to be the first man you taste,” Antal whispered.

  Kilan replied with a whimper. It took all Antal’s strength of character not to grab Kilan there and then, crush the other man against him, assault his mouth first with his tongue and then with his cock. In time he would do both, but not in that order. “On your knees,” he demanded, and Kilan dropped to his knees as though his legs could no longer support him.

  “You realize what’s going to happen?”

  It took Kilan a moment to understand the question. Despite the fact that Antal was undeniably in charge, even now Antal checked that things were fine with him. Even in his confused state, Kilan realized Antal carefully worded his question so as not to offer Kilan a choice but to check that he remained aware of what was happening. Silence was Kilan’s way of saying yes: yes, he knew what was going to happen; yes, he was willing to do what Antal wanted.

  Looking up, Kilan took in the vision of Antal standing before him. The robe gaped, revealing a hint of tanned flesh that made Kilan bite his lip. He waited, waited for Antal to throw off the robe, take hold of his cock, and force it between his lips. He even wanted him to, but he should have known Antal wouldn’t make it so easy for him.