“Open my robe,” Antal told him. With shaky hands, Kilan reached out. The fabric felt coarser than he’d expected, but for some reason the rough fabric thrilled him. He pushed the two sides apart, and finally Antal helped him, flinging the robe open and back so that the garment still hung on him but displayed his body. Unable to help it, Kilan looked all the way up to Antal’s face. That sharp gaze stared down at him, a burning center framed by the opulence of Antal’s hair and the copper flare of the robe. The colors tumbled, built on each other. Did Antal realize how devastating he was to look upon? Did he know what effect the robe’s color would have, that it would make the vision of his hair stunning, the color of his eyes so striking? He had to. No way had Antal chosen that robe without a good reason. He’d dressed to make Kilan want him, and the very idea turned Kilan’s lust over into something he could only call love. Antal had done this…for him. Antal wanted him. Kilan was liked well enough and loved by his brother and some of his friends, but none but his brother had taken him seriously…until…Antal. For the first time ever, Kilan found a responsibility that he could face, the responsibility of what both of them were feeling.
“Kiss me,” Antal instructed, and he didn’t mean his mouth. Swallowing, Kilan blinked, his gaze lowering. Trembling inside, Kilan pursed his lips, leaning forward, closing his eyes. He kissed gently, pushing out his tongue even as his fear catapulted skyward, even as he rejoiced. “Not so tentative,” Antal said a moment later. “I don’t want you shy. I don’t want you hesitant.”
This time tears of frustration threatened Kilan’s resolve. He was sure one trickled out, and a moment later it slid down the side of his face. Did Antal see? Did it please him? Excite him? He shouldn’t want that, but he did. He wanted that tear to affect Antal even as he fought his fear. Why did he feel so frightened? How could that be when he wanted this? An apology lay on his tongue, but that wasn’t what Antal wanted. Antal wanted his cock on his tongue. Kilan opened his mouth, and not allowing himself time to think, he engulfed him.
Everything about the invasion felt unnatural and yet wholly right. He had a hot cock in his equally hot mouth, and at least one part of him enjoyed it. The part of him that still felt a little afraid understood that this wasn’t to be a calm awakening. Antal meant to push him the same way he now pushed a little with his hips. Kilan had no time to get used to this, to explore, to learn, to fully enjoy. Not in this instance. This was Antal setting the rules, seeking to discover if Kilan could live by those rules, accept them. His mind doubted, but his body responded in other ways, and as his cock rose, so did the comet. It wasn’t as if Kilan failed to get the message, but the comet answered on Antal’s behalf even if Kilan’s intellect refused to fully acquiesce. Antal wanted his throat. Kilan tried to take him down, gagging. Unfortunately, rather than a deterrent, both the comet and Antal appeared to appreciate the sounds he made.
“Lower your hands,” Antal instructed, and Kilan hesitated only a moment. Antal placed a hand at the back of his head, held him fast. Kilan took a deep breath, knowing what to expect, trying to adjust. He couldn’t, not really. He had no previous experience. Even so, Antal pushed forward, forcing his cock down Kilan’s willing throat.
The reverberation of someone retching shouldn’t sound so delightful, but -- the comet help him -- it did. The retch was nothing. Antal could tell, and he would have pulled back if he believed Kilan needed or wanted him to do so. As much as Kilan struggled, his movements were eager. Antal closed his eyes for a moment only. The sight of Kilan on his knees fighting to let Antal push into his throat was just too adorable a vision to look away from for more than a moment. Tears leaked from the corners of Kilan’s eyes, but aside from Antal’s hand on the back of his head, nothing held him in place. Kilan could push Antal away anytime he chose, but although he clenched his hands into fists, he kept his arms resolutely down at his sides. Taking heed of a muffled sound, Antal eased off so the man could breath. Kilan gasped, swallowed, sniffed, wiped at his nose and mouth, blinked tears from his eyes, but then he tilted back his head, expectant, offering, ready to take Antal again, and no way would Antal refuse him. That first moment when Kilan had opened his mouth, when Antal had pushed past his lips, felt the soft pad and heat of Kilan’s tongue, was something that would always be with him. Nothing could exceed that one moment in time; that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the rest.
He pushed his way in, plunging deeper, ignoring the half-moan, half-straining sounds that came from Kilan’s throat. Antal held him there, his cock deep for a few precious seconds, then pushed Kilan off him, allowing him to gag and then breathe. Antal doubted Kilan even realized that he clutched at Antal’s legs once again. He considered ordering Kilan to let go of him but then thought better of it. He didn’t know how Kilan would feel about himself afterward, but there was something of which Antal now felt certain. He wanted more than one night with Kilan. He needed more than one night with him. It had a lot to do with sex but so much more to do with Kilan.
Kilan brought out the worst side of his nature, but it didn’t feel like the worst side. It just felt honest. He guided Kilan with a hand on the back of his neck, but that was all he was doing: guiding. Did Kilan realize that he now brought his mouth all the way off that rigid flesh of his own volition? Did Kilan realize that he then thrust his head forward, driving that member as far as it would go down his throat? Every time Kilan failed to suppress his gag reflex, Antal felt sure he would explode. Every time Kilan retched, the prince now dug his fingers in harder. Kilan hurt him now, clasping at him, digging his nails into the soft flesh of Antal’s thighs, but that was fine. That felt like just the right level of pain Antal required to stop this from being over too soon.
Did Antal hear the greedy little sounds he made? In truth, Kilan had been with lovers that were more vocal, but the small sounds that occasionally fell from Antal’s mouth pulled at his heart and his lust more eloquently than a shout. Kilan loved that Antal made those sounds because of him. This act involved a certain type of power even though he’d given himself over to Antal’s needs. Kilan had never been more aware of the collar around his throat, the restriction squeezing even as he tried to hold his breath and open his gullet to the assault.
When Antal took hold of both of Kilan’s hands and held them out to the sides, only then did Kilan realize he’d probably marked Antal’s thighs with his nails. Only then did he comprehend that the comet spiraled inside him.
“What?” Antal managed to gasp out. Even though he didn’t ask more of a question, he didn’t have to. What was that? If he could have answered, Kilan would have told him the comet played with them. Kilan couldn’t have let go of Antal’s hands if he’d tried, and he felt fairly certain Antal couldn’t let go either. In his peripheral vision, Kilan could see the golden rift embodied, swirling around and linking their hands. Could Antal see it, or was this solely Kilan’s vision? It hardly mattered. Antal set up a rhythm, and Kilan let his lover use his mouth as he wanted. The comet poured ice into his throat, soothing, easing the way. It frolicked inside him and then spilled out, stroking over his skin. Gooseflesh appeared, and everything on Kilan’s body shivered or tightened.
“Kilan?” Antal called to him, and Kilan looked up. Their eyes locked. Kilan tried to tell Antal everything was all right. He felt fine with this. Better than fine. Sex before had always been an amusement. This wasn’t casual. Kilan wanted more of this. He wanted Antal. He and the comet seemed to agree on that one element.
He didn’t know if his body took over his brain or the comet did. Kilan just stared into his lover’s eyes and gave over everything he had to whatever Antal wanted of him. The comet did the rest, pushed them over, and followed them.
Antal had called Kilan’s name for two reasons. For one, he wanted to look into Kilan’s eyes when he finally came. More importantly, he became aware that in some way the comet enjoyed this, and he wanted -- needed -- to make certain that Kilan had free will. What he saw in Kilan’s eyes reassured him but also alar
med him. He’d wanted to make Kilan his, and he now realized he’d done that, perhaps in a way he’d never intended. Too late to worry about that; too late for second thoughts. He saw a different kind of adoration in Kilan’s eyes. He saw the beginnings of love and realized he was in deeper than even he had comprehended, and he didn’t mean deep inside Kilan’s throat. He was deeply committed.
He had no room in his head to entertain the notion. Whatever had held their hands fastened together seemed to realize that now was the moment to let their hands explore as they wanted. The power vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. Antal grasped Kilan at the back of his head. Likely because Kilan struggled to cope with the experience, Antal just knew he couldn’t hold back. He just couldn’t, and yet amazingly he did. He held back just long enough to see understanding and acceptance fill Kilan’s gaze. Only when he felt certain Kilan was ready for this did he push into the other man’s throat even as his body reached the precipice of orgasm. The sweet pulsing threw back his head for one intense moment, and then his intellect forced its way to the surface, one need overtaking the other. He pulled back, thrusting back and forth even as he underwent the sweet throes of climax. He finished the benediction by wiping himself on Kilan’s lips.
Still shuddering, he went to his knees, gaze flicking from the dew on Kilan’s lips to the tears that ran down his face. He traced the wet trails with his fingertips and then licked the wet lines, drinking the saltwater down, working his way up Kilan’s face until he kissed his eyelids. Then he kissed outward from one corner to the other of those dark eyes, the place where the skin would wrinkle one day from age and much laughter. He understood these tears. They weren’t of sorrow but joy laced with a little fear as well as sweet emotional release. He could see the fear in Kilan’s bright gaze. He could also see the unspoken questions that surely filled his lover’s mind. Kilan looked at him, searching for mutual trust.
Snaking his fingers in under those strands of dark hair, Antal cupped the back of Kilan’s head, tilting his face. Then he leaned in, first licking up the drops of semen that he’d smeared there and then finally kissing him. Kilan’s resistance was short-lived. Antal invaded his mouth, and he hoped at the same time to invade Kilan’s mind and heart. He took him into his arms, tipping him back against the floor, taking hold of that hot, straining cock in his hand, pumping it even as he rocked their bodies together, sealing and searing their bodies into one being at the mouth until Kilan came in a shout that Antal swallowed down.
Chapter Fourteen
They lay in bed, Antal on his front with Kilan at his back.
“What’s this?” Kilan asked the question and followed it with a kiss over the small scar to which he referred.
“The arrow,” Antal replied, surprised that mentioning it no longer alarmed him. To talk of that day had bothered him once, but only during the few days after it had happened, immediately after when he’d been so close to death.
“It’s the only mark. I thought there were three arrows.”
“There were. This is the only one that would have killed me.”
“Does it bother you? My mentioning it? I should have realized. Only I would have thought Markis…”
Antal glanced backward. “What? You thought because Markis healed me he’d heal the scar too?”
“Something like that. I think…” Kilan sat up. He traced a hand over Antal’s back, over the area of the scar. “Yes, I know I could. I could remove this if I wanted.”
“I’m not sure I want you to,” Antal said, although most of his thoughts lay elsewhere.
“I’m not sure I want to either. In fact, I know I don’t. I think I kind of like it.”
“Why?”
“It’s part of who you are.”
That echoed Antal’s own thoughts. “So do I. I view the scars as I do lines on my father’s face and scars on his body, as signs of the life he’s lived.” It pleased him that Kilan thought the same thing.
“The pain he’s endured. The love he’s shared.” Kilan finished Antal’s thoughts for him, and it struck Antal how his mother and father could do that. It also proved there was more to Kilan than one first noticed.
“You have a good heart,” Antal told him. For a long moment, Kilan just rested a hand over the scar, and then he moved forward. First, his forehead touched Antal’s back, and then he left a kiss over the scar. Those simple movements felt more intimate than words might have seemed. Antal lay there, enjoying the silence between them until it felt right to speak again.
“What makes you think you could remove it?”
“I just…know.”
“Kilan, I think you need to discuss this with Markis.”
“My removing your scar?”
“Dolt! No.” Antal tried to sound annoyed but gave in to the laughter that bubbled up inside him. “Your ability to use the comet to heal. You seem to do it almost without thinking, and while my ankle was a small thing to heal compared to the wounds Markis healed for me, I think it’s worth exploring.” He gazed back over one shoulder. “I think you may have found your purpose without even trying. I think maybe you find healing easier than Markis does.”
Kilan blinked at him. “Maybe.” He sounded both doubtful and interested in the idea. “Promise not to rush me? I will speak to Markis. Just give me some time to think about this.”
“That is between you and Markis unless I have a reason to fear for you, and so far I don’t. I just…sense that your power and Markis’s may differ. I think you’ll use the comet in a different way, one that will benefit many others.”
“You feel it, don’t you?”
“Within you? Yes. I sense it when we’re having sex more. I know that’s because Markis healed me. I’m not sure it has to be this way with you. I’m aware of the spark Markis left in me at times, but the healing you did on my ankle, it feels different. I think you need to explore what that means. Just don’t go indiscriminately healing everyone until you check with Markis.”
“I promise. I wouldn’t like to anyway. I might do more harm than good, and I’m not arrogant enough to do that.”
“You’re not arrogant at all.”
Kilan blinked in apparent surprise and then lowered his gaze. “The more I start to believe I know everything about myself, the more you make me feel I know nothing.”
Antal hesitated a moment only. Kilan had given him the perfect opportunity, and he took it. “Then let’s find out, together.”
“Together?” Kilan sounded nothing like the young, boisterous prince everyone thought he was.
“Yes, together.” Antal looked back at him. “I mean it.”
“I know,” Kilan said after a pause. “I know you wouldn’t say that if you didn’t mean it.” When he said nothing else, Antal couldn’t stand it, so he had to prompt him.
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
This time the laugh that rumbled out of Kilan’s throat sounded incredulous. “Me? Keep you in suspense?” He shook his head. “Nothing like it.” Kilan touched one fingertip to the scar. “I like this one blemish. You don’t have any others.”
“None you can see, maybe.”
“What blemishes can’t I see?”
Antal sat up, turning to face him. “I’m not sure it is a blemish. It’s just something I didn’t know about myself until today.”
Kilan sat waiting patiently. He would make a good semaris partner, and that bothered Antal now for some reason.
“I liked what we did today.” He raised a hand to forestall anything Kilan had to say. “I liked it more than I’m comfortable with. Ryanac was right, and I’ve been snappy lately because I worked myself too hard. I can take care of that. I can delegate. I can advance the rank of men under me. I mean the guards.” Antal slapped at Kilan’s shoulder when he smirked at his choice of words. “Ryanac was also right in saying that I needed sex, but the fact is I’ve used work as an excuse lately to avoid sex.” Antal met Kilan’s gaze. “I’ve found sex…unsatisfying, although I hadn’t realized why
until today. I liked being in control. I like it in my work, which is the true reason I’ve found it so difficult to hand out tasks the way I should. And I think it’s what I want in my love life too. I know semaris is really a semblance of control, but I like it even so.” He’d removed Kilan’s collar. He wouldn’t have been acting so informal with him if he hadn’t. Not so soon after their first time together. “I just hadn’t realized how important that was to me until you made me want that with you. I just need to know how you feel about all this.”
Kilan sat quiet. His expression said he was thinking too hard. “I don’t know if this is what I want for a lifetime.” He looked up then, into Antal’s eyes. For a moment, his gaze slipped away but then returned as if he’d needed a moment to gather his courage. “But I’d like to find out.”
“You fear the idea?”
“I wish you weren’t so astute half the time.”
“If I’m to entertain the idea of a semaris relationship with anyone, then that’s exactly what I need to be. It seems to come easy with you. I can read you.”
“Which is half the attraction, I suppose.”
There was that self-doubt again. Antal narrowed his gaze and reached up to caress Kilan’s hair. “That isn’t even half the attraction. Kilan, there’s something about you that drives me crazy, but it’s also what I love about you.”
“Love?”
Antal smiled. “Love well enough to want to see if we have something here. Love well enough to want to see if we have something lasting. The question is whether you want to find out…with me. You haven’t answered me. I’m asking if you want a relationship with me as I want one with you.”
“You know I do,” Kilan whispered. The moment he said it, Antal knew the truth. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow he knew exactly what Kilan wanted and even what he needed. Unable to keep his hands still, Antal ran his fingers through Kilan’s hair.
A Swithin Spin: A Princely Passion Page 18
