The Solstice Prince (Realms of Love Book 1)

by SJ Himes

  “Come here,” Maxim begged, and he was helpless to resist. He pushed up on the bed, Maxim’s arms catching him, rolling them both until they were lying on their sides. Chest to chest, fronts melding, and Jaime gasped, hips surging forward, when he felt the potent proof of Maxim’s arousal throbbing against his lower stomach. He whimpered and lifted his head for a kiss, Maxim finding his mouth with unerring accuracy in the shadows. They broke apart for air, both panting.

  “Jaime…” Maxim whispered, nuzzling behind his ear, making Jaime tip his head back, gasping.

  “Hhhmmm…”

  “What do you want?”

  The question made him blink up into the absolute darkness under the bed canopy, his vision having adjusted enough he could see more than vague shapes. The hard length pressed to his belly reminded him of the pictures from the academy, and Jaime’s own cock was just as enthused about the events transpiring. He said the first thing he could. “Everything?”

  Maxim laughed, shoulders shaking, his prince muffling his face in the pillows before groaning. Jaime bit his lip, shrugging. He poked Maxim in the shoulder, prompting his prince to look at him. “What do you want?”

  “You happy and in my arms.”

  Jaime smiled wide. “Then how about we just aim for making each other happy, and worry about the details as we go?”

  Jaime leaned in for another kiss, Maxim took his mouth in a deep, thorough mating of tongues. He was rolled to his back, and Maxim carefully rose above him, slipping hands under the hem of his breeches, easily disposing of them with a few tugs. Jaime thrilled at the sensation of hot skin to skin, and he opened his legs without a thought. Gasping with joyful surprise when Maxim took the invitation and settled between his thighs, aligning their cocks. Apparently neither of them decided to wear undergarments beneath their breeches, and Jaime burned hotter at the thought.

  Hard flesh and soft skin slid and throbbed as Maxim rocked over him, pressing Jaime down into the bedding. He curled his arms around Maxim’s neck, lifting his legs, wrapping them around a leanly muscled waist, and he clung. Maxim groaned, and one of his hands swept through Jaime’s hair, tipping his head back, exposing the line of his neck to hot, open-mouthed kisses. The other hand wandered down Jaime’s chest, pausing to tweak a nipple, making him gasp, before traveling onwards.

  “Please,” Jaime gasped out, rocking his hips up. He all but flew off the bed when a big hand wrapped around his cock, stroking firmly from root to tip. Jaime cried out, a sharp keen, as Maxim did it twice more, rocking over him, sucking a burning mark up on the side of his neck.

  Jaime had never experienced an orgasm with another person, so when he had his first one by another man’s hand, it snuck up on him, blasting his mind and making his entire body shake. He came in thick spurts between their bodies, Maxim growling with a primal satisfaction as Jaime shuddered beneath him. Jaime melted as his release spiraled through his muscles, his limbs falling open on the bed, his breath raspy, heart racing.

  Soft kisses along his jaw brought him back, and he blinked up at Maxim. The hard, hot, and insistent proof that Maxim hadn’t joined him in release throbbed along Jaime’s hip, and he pushed up, rubbing his body on Maxim’s cock, making him hiss out between his teeth.

  “Jaime,” Maxim growled, and Jaime could feel the coiled tension in his prince. Jaime lifted his hands, and ran them down Maxim’s sides to his hips, which he grabbed, and pulled more securely between his spread legs.

  “I want it, I want you,” Jaime whispered over Maxim’s lips. He dared, with the post-coitus confidence he wouldn’t have otherwise, to reach down and grab the big cock his prince wielded. Maxim gasped, hips involuntarily bucking, moving its thick length in Jaime’s hand. “Please, Maxim. Become a part of me.”

  Chest heaving with a deep breath, Maxim reached over Jaime, fumbling in the dark. He heard a drawer opening, then Maxim was back. Maxim knelt up between Jaime’s legs, who sighed, reluctant to release his prize, but Maxim pulled back enough Jaime had to. He grabbed his knees and pulled them out and back, leaving himself completely open to Maxim’s heated gaze. Maxim hissed out a sharp breath, then warm, calloused fingers trailed down the back of his thighs, so light, gentle. Appreciative. Fingertips flirted over his buttocks, then down, to a place no one had ever touched but Jaime, and never in the way Maxim was about to.

  “Breathe, and stay as relaxed as you can,” Maxim whispered, and Jaime realized he had held his breath, tense with anticipation. “I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

  “I trust you,” Jaime said. The moonlight had shifted enough since they entered the room that it burnished the end of the bed, shedding more light and allowing Jaime to see Maxim kneeling above him. Every long and agile limb was haloed in a silvery nimbus, Maxim’s brown locks turned to metallic white, a crown of moonlight for his prince. Jaime fell a little bit farther, heart aching, and then Maxim’s fingers were breaching him, one long thick digit coated in a fragrant oil. Jaime tossed his head back, gasping.

  “That’s it, my love,” Maxim praised when Jaime made his muscles relax as much as he could, pushing back, opening himself. Another finger entered him, teasing and then hitting a place Jaime knew existed but never imagined could make him feel so much. Book knowledge was nothing compared to the literal hands on knowledge Maxim was giving him. Jaime keened out, needing more, and Maxim gave it to him.

  Two thick fingers slid deep with surety and flirted with that bundle of nerves inside. “Maxim!” Jaime cried out, his own fingers digging in to his knees, shaking. He was bruising himself and he didn’t care. “Please!”

  “Not yet, Jaime,” Maxim smiled down at him, the moonlight inching its way up the bed. His smile was something otherworldly, and Jaime groaned at the wicked edge to those lush lips. Fingers slid out, then came back, covered in more oil, Maxim prepping him thoroughly.

  His mind exploded when those fingers returned to their target, and he squirmed. “Maxim! Now!”

  Maxim chuckled then grabbed one of Jaime’s hands. Oil poured into his palm while fingers still played in his body. Maxim came down over him, and guided Jaime’s hand back to his cock, helping him spread the oil over his long length. Maxim groaned, dipping his head and kissing Jaime, an open-mouthed melding of tongue and lips. Cock coated, Jaime shifted on the bed, guiding Maxim to his body. The cock in his slick grip throbbed, and Jaime marveled he could feel the beat of Maxim’s heart, the flexing of muscles.

  Arms came around him, and Jaime took a breath and guided the wide head to the entrance of his body. Maxim kissed him, so passionately that any nerves Jaime had were swept away, and he lifted his hips to meet Maxim’s thrust.

  He gasped, the sound swallowed by Maxim’s mouth, and Jaime pulled his hand away to wrap both arms around Maxim’s neck. It stung and burned, but not enough to make him want to stop. He had no doubt he would ache in the morning, but arousal and adrenaline overrode caution and encouraged him to lift into Maxim’s cautious penetration. “Easy,” Maxim breathed out before taking his mouth again, tongue invading, to match the rigid, hot length pushing inexorably deeper.

  It burned, and Jaime whined, but he wanted it. Needed more. He wrapped legs around his lover’s lean waist, and then pushed up, taking Maxim to the hilt, making Maxim groan and shudder. It hurt enough that tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but the kisses took on a frenzied edge, and Jaime found himself in a new style of dance.

  Maxim held him close, kissing him as if he needed kisses more than air, and Jaime lost all thought, accepting the rising swell of passion across his body.

  His control snapped. His gift swept out across Maxim, and Jaime was helpless to stop it. He could feel the unimaginable lust and arousal that Maxim held in check, refusing to hurt him, keeping his thrusts measured and controlled. Behind every touch, every kiss, every gasp when the angle was just right, Jaime could feel this powerful, aching swell of emotion.

  Love.

  Maxim loved him with his whole body, his heart guiding every touch. Jaime cried out,
shattered, and wished he could share how he felt. That Maxim could feel what Jaime did—the tender control, the sweet ache inside, the rising tension, and the emotion that crashed through him with unimaginable strength.

  He loved Maxim. He’d loved Maxim from the earliest moment, but the love he felt now was more, an impossible leap to a depthless well of love. Lust, affection, and a myriad of other sensations and emotions he could not name.

  Maxim gasped, pulling back from their kisses, and Jaime stared up into his eyes.

  Maxim could feel him. The truth was there in the shocked and amazed depths of his honey brown eyes. Maxim felt every sweep of his cock, the tight ache, the burst of nerve-tingling pleasure when his cock made perfect contact deep inside.

  Maxim felt Jaime as he could feel Maxim. His gift spun unchecked, a wild thing between them, sharing their love and the sweaty, tension-ridden ache that chased them higher. Maxim’s thrusts lost that edge of control, and Jaime accepted them, rising to meet them.

  Higher and tighter, breath short, lungs aching, muscles burning, Jaime and Maxim chased their release, and when it hit, they went over the edge together. Eyes locked, emotions as entangled as their bodies, pleasure crashed and spun between them. Jaime and Maxim cried out as one, breathed as one, the gift at last earning its name. It was a gift to feel all of this, to feel each other without fears or doubts. Nothing between them at all, but sweat and spend and release.

  Love pillowed them both, cradling them as they came back down. The moon peeked into the room, the bed awash in light, sparkling on beads of sweat while quivering muscles struggling to function.

  Somehow, Maxim found the strength to gently disengage, and Jaime hissed at the ache, but he was fine. Maxim pulled a blanket over them, and Jaime didn’t mind the mess. He would rather be locked in his lover’s arms at this very moment, the moon their only witness.

  “I love you,” Jaime said, quiet, afraid to break the spell that seemed to hold the world at a precipice.

  Maxim pressed a kiss to his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his lips. He whispered, lips moving over Jaime’s, “I love you, too.” He gathered Jaime close; their legs entwined, arms cradling each other, and Jaime’s head tucked under Maxim’s chin.

  Sleep encroached, gently. He was on the edge of it when a sound echoed across the palace. From every corner, every turret and tower, and then an answer from within the city, a dance of highs and lows.

  Bells. A cascade of song, bells across the whole of Taliesin lifting their voices to the sky, a soft melody of reverence and magic.

  “Merry Solstice,” Maxim murmured in his ear, kissing the lobe. Jaime smiled, letting the music of the solstice and the perfection of Maxim’s arms lull him to sleep.

  Laughing, Jaime dodged the handful of soapy water Maxim splashed in his direction. The bathing room was awash in morning light, the cart holding their breakfast a disaster after they hungrily tore it apart before hopping in the stone bath that could hold ten men. Maxim’s suite was large, and the bathing room was far from the water closets Jaime was accustomed to.

  A wet, slippery arm roped around his waist and pulled him closer, his lips taken in a soft kiss broken by giggles. Jaime tickled Maxim’s sides under the bubbles, his prince laughing, trying to escape. “No! I yield, I yield!” Maxim begged, and Jaime crowed in victory.

  “Fear me, the Master of Tickles!” Jaime demanded, arms raised to attack, and Maxim had to catch his wrists, the other man laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

  “This swordmaster yields to the master of tickles, good sir,” Maxim gasped out, smiling wide, pearly teeth flashing.

  “I accept your surrender,” Jaime replied magnanimously, and Maxim pulled him over to offer his wet and sudsy surrender.

  A long, languid kiss later, they broke apart. Maxim fiddled with some of the metal faucets, and Jaime jolted as the water began to rush out of the large basin, and clear, warm water began to flow in to replace it. Maxim pulled him under one of the spouts, and rinsed him first before helping him from the monstrosity of a tub. Maxim made quick work of cleansing himself, and Jaime smiled through the very thorough and personal drying that followed with a warmed towel taken from a set of brass bars over a small cast iron oven.

  It was still early, and Jaime wasn’t expected at the infirmary until that evening for the overnight shift with Greaves. They had the day to themselves, but Jaime voiced no complaint when Maxim wished to visit his father. He wanted to see how the king was fairing, and a thread of nervous fear wound through his happiness. He knew it was selfish to wish for the realities of life to leave him to enjoy his love in peace, but he couldn’t help but wish they had that time. He did his best to enjoy the moment, no matter what may come.

  Jaime was torn between embarrassment and pleased surprise when he found a fresh set of pressed novice robes waiting for him when they left the bathing chamber. Jaime dressed and dug out the boots he wore the night before to the ball, since his regular pair were still in his own room, half a palace away. Maxim dressed in what Jaime had come to recognize as his usual garb, a simple white shirt tied down the front, black breeches, boots that looked well loved, and a belt to which Maxim attached a long dagger. Only his bearing and the jeweled hilt of the blade spoke to his station in life.

  Watching Maxim get dressed left him warm in the chest, a soft smile on his lips. He knew he looked like a man made silly by love, but since Maxim matched him in foolish grins and sparkling eyes, he didn’t mind.

  Jaime went to the door, feeling invigorated. The warm bath had soothed aching and tender places, though he could still feel it. The reminder of their union from the night before keeping a slight blush on his cheeks. He enjoyed it, the ache, the stretch to muscles unaccustomed to such activity. He relished in it, and in the way his skin remembered Maxim’s touch. He wanted it again, and just thinking of being in Maxim’s embrace made his breath hitch.

  Maxim must have been able to decipher where his thoughts went, as he promptly prowled over and kissed him, and Jaime melted into his embrace.

  “I wish I could take your right back to bed, but we’ve some place to be.” Maxim kissed him once more, quick and hard, before opening the door, and gallantly bowing Jaime through first.

  His faint blush bloomed into an inferno, but his smile was wide and foolish. Maxim came out behind him, shutting the door and extended his elbow. Jaime tucked his hand into the crook of Maxim’s arm, and his prince lead the way down the hall toward the rest of the royal residences.

  Maxim did not have far to take him, for a few turns later the tall doors to the king’s room appeared. Inside, Jaime was nervous. Would Maxim’s family be able to tell he spent the night in the prince’s bed? Would they care? If this were Eistrea, Jaime wouldn’t even be allowed in the royal quarters, much less to be publicly known as the prince’s lover. He would be a quick tumble in the prince’s bed, then expected to leave before morning. Yet here, he was arm in arm with a man who loved him and paid him every courtesy, making no secret of the fact he respected Jaime and cared for him.

  The ever-present guards opened the doors, and they entered the outer chamber. The door to the king’s room was open, letting them see into the room. They walked on and into the bedchamber, and stopped.

  The bed was empty, the covers made, perfectly in order.

  Jaime’s heart seized, cold terror starting to bloom through his veins.

  “Don’t look so scandalized,” a raspy voice said from near the windows. Jaime gasped and saw the king sitting in a spacious chair under the windows. King Llyr’s lips twitched, as if he had an idea of what terrible thought had raced through Jaime’s mind for that second.

  Relief was heady, and he clung to Maxim’s arm. “Father, that was unkind. I take it you’re feeling better?”

  Maxim guided Jaime closer to the windows. He saw Princess Diana sitting not far from her father, dark circles under her eyes. Master Eames nodded to Jaime from the far side of the small group clustered under the tall windows
, his presence telling Jaime more than enough.

  The king might be well enough to get out of bed, but the end was still coming. Soon enough that Master Eames was in attendance, though he appeared relaxed, if watchful. Not today, but soon.

  “I feel like a man dying, but well enough to sit in a chair with his children in attendance. Diana was just telling me this delicious rumor she heard from her maids. One of my sons caused a stir at the ball last night. Elric does it often enough that it’s common place. Janis was with his stepmother, and he never does gossip-worthy things in public. So that leaves my youngest. Anything to tell your ailing father?” King Llyr’s voice was raspy and soft, but full of teasing.

  Jaime smiled, and let Maxim seat him not far from the king. Maxim went to his father, leaned down and gently hugged the old man. Maxim whispered something to his father, who blinked for a few seconds, before patting his son lightly on his shoulder and returning the embrace as best he could. Queen Amal came from a far door Jaime hadn’t noticed before, his angle in the chair letting him see it was a short hall that likely connected their suites. Maxim pulled back from his father and went to hug his mother, who clung to her son for a long moment.

  King Llyr motioned to his daughter, who leaned in. Jaime couldn’t hear what was said, but she gasped, before a bright smile lit her tired eyes. She stood and wove through the chairs to her mother, speaking quietly to her before both royal ladies disappeared back down the short hall. Jaime eyed the king with suspicion, but the old man merely smiled serenely back at him, giving nothing away.

  “How was your night, my dear boy?” The king asked, and Jaime flushed hard. The king chuckled, and Jaime had the sinking feeling that King Llyr knew exactly how his night went. Jaime figured at this point, the whole palace knew.

  “I had a wonderful time, Your Majesty.” Jaime risked a wide grin, which surely conveyed his love-struck state. “Maxim is a fantastic dancer.”