by Sean Michael
Going back into Jules’ bedroom, he looked to his prince, who was once again dressed in his robes, a book in his hands.
“Is that the one about the boat that gets stranded on a sandbar in the middle of an ocean?” Lem asked. His prince was reading him adventure stories. They were exciting and fun, but also made him long to take Jules on adventures.
“It is. We’re almost done with it.”
“Oh.” He wanted to know what happened next, but he also didn’t want it to end.
“There will be another, I swear.”
He brightened up. “As good as this one?” He settled next to Jules, opening his arms so his prince could sit with him.
“We won’t know until we dive into it. I have hope, though.”
Wrapping his arms around Jules, Lem tried to ignore the way his body swelled and reached for Jules.
For his part, Jules cuddled in and began to read, to tell him a story.
Lem stayed alert, watched every point of egress so that he might keep his prince safe, but mostly he listened, lost himself in the story Jules read to him.
Chapter Seven
Jules’ life was amazing—books, Lem, touching. His father never requested his presence anymore, not for strange, stilted suppers, not for banquets, not to watch the latest dance or execution, nothing. It was perfect.
Lem kept dragging him outside into the sunshine to walk, pick fruit, and drink from the fountain. But, as it was with Lem, it wasn’t so bad. Besides, the sunshine felt good, warming him in his bones.
“I want to show you the mountains.” Lem sighed. “This courtyard is so protected, you can’t even see them from here. Or feel the wind on your cheeks.”
“Tell me about them? About flying?” Jules asked.
“I want to show you. You would love flying. It’s like the adventures in your books.”
“I probably can’t.” How amazing would that be?
“Why on earth not? Flying is... it is like breathing, natural, easy, instinctive.”
But he was a loser. He was the little prince. He sighed, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to upset Lem.
“When we get let out of the castle, I will fly with you,” Lem promised.
They were never going to let him out. Never. “That sounds amazing.”
“One day, my prince. I will make it happen.”
Jules lifted his face, offered a kiss, a connection. Lem moaned and pressed their mouths together. It was the first time they’d kissed in the open, and though they were protected here, safe as they would be in his rooms, it felt naughty, exciting. Delicious.
“You’re making me stiff, Lem,” Jules whispered. “In the sunshine.”
Lem blinked at him, worried. “I’m sorry?”
“My... my need. You make it hard.”
“Are you upset about that? I will stop if you don’t want me to do it out here.”
“Are we safe?” Because he wanted to feel this, out here.
Lem nodded. “The courtyard is not accessible or visible from anything but the air.”
Jules leaned in. “This is a good place.”
“It is.” Lem’s lips covered his again, warm and soft, but firm at the same time, too.
He opened, breathing into Lem, the kisses filling him with joy. Lem wrapped his hip up in one big, warm hand, the other cupping his cheek. Oh. Oh, it was sweet heaven. Jules leaned in, cuddled in to the touch. Lem was solid and strong, and he knew he’d never fall with Lem there for him. He felt himself shiver, his skin too tight.
“Are you cold, my prince?” Lem slid both arms around him, pulling him in close to the warm body.
He nodded his head, but then shook it. Yes, no, his body was so confused.
“We usually hide when we touch,” Lem noted.
“I know. It’s... so new.”
“Do you want to go inside to do this?” Lem offered.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry.”
“Shh.” Lem kissed him, quieting his words. “You are Prince Jules. You never have to be sorry.”
He hummed, the world seeming to flutter, shimmer as they touched. Lem moved them, sitting on the bench by the fountain and drawing him down to straddle the strong thighs. He loved that, the pressure of Lem against his legs, his sac. It made things feel huge.
“You make me feel so much, Jules. So many good things.”
“Yes. Yes, how lucky am I that you came to me?”
“I am luckier still,” Lem insisted.
Jules leaned into Lem, nuzzled the long, firm jaw. Groaning, Lem grabbed his ass and pulled him closer so their middles rubbed. His body hardened. It seemed that was inevitable, where Lem was concerned. Lem’s hand squeezed his ass cheeks, fingers digging into his skin.
“You are so beautiful, Jules. So special.”
How lovely to have Lem speak his name. How amazing. Especially in that awed, amazed tone.
“I want you. I want you.” Lem muttered the words like they were a prayer.
“I am yours, Lem. I give myself to you.”
“You shouldn’t. I am only your bodyguard.”
“Do you not feel as I do?” Jules asked.
“You are the sky and the moon, Jules. I think you are everything.”
“Then you feel as I do. We are joined.” And he would rejoice in it as long as he could.
“We are. I’m just sorry I’m not more for you.”
“That seems silly. You were born for me.”
Lem tilted his head. “If I was born for you, then...”
“I was born for you.” He was sure of that.
“You are perfect, my prince.”
“You are the only one that’s ever said so.”
Lem snorted. “I must be the only one who isn’t blind then.”
Jules chuckled, so pleased. So tickled.
“I love hearing your laughter,” Lem told him.
“Better than reading?”
“Yes. Better than anyth— almost anything.” Lem’s cheeks darkened.
“Lem?” He reached up, took Lem’s cheeks in hand.
“Well, this might be even better than your laughter,” Lem admitted, pulling their shafts together.
“Yes? You and me and our need?”
Lem nodded, hands pulling their bodies together again and again. Jules was beginning to crave this, the connection, the pleasure he shared with Lem.
Lem’s mouth pressed against his, tongue coming out to lick at his lips. It fascinated him, the soft lapping and tasting. Moaning, Lem pressed his tongue in between Jules’ lips. They kissed one another, tasting each other carefully, as if this wasn’t completely forbidden. Right there out in the sunshine.
Lem’s arms wrapped tighter around him, tongue delving deeper into his mouth. The most amazing sounds escaped him, poured into the air. Lem’s swelling seemed to get harder with each sound he made. Jules tried to stop them, but the sounds were simply too large to contain.
“My prince. My Jules.” Lem whispered the words, rocking them together.
“Yes. My heartbeat.”
Lem’s eyes widened at his words, and his dear dragon moaned for him. The unexpected sensitivity always shocked him. Lem moved them together faster, the heat of Lem’s swelling feeling so good against his own. He pressed closer, his hips rocking quickly.
“I’m going to spend, Jules.”
“May I... Might I taste you?” He loved having his mouth on Lem’s member.
“Are you not tasting me, my Jules? Oh! You mean... Yes.”
“Yes?” He eased down, protected by Lem’s thighs.
“Yes. Please, my Jules. I would give you anything you asked for.”
“I wish to know this, to taste you.”
Lem nodded, legs spreading wider, cradling him as he knelt between them. “Please. Please.”
Jules freed the sweet hardness and wrapped his lips about the very tip, sucking gently.
“Jules!” Lem cried out, his muscled thighs going tight.
> He looked up, alarmed. “You’re well?”
“Yes. Oh, please. Jules. It is so very good. Please don’t stop.”
He liked the sound of that. Don’t stop. Jules bent to his ever-so pleasant work.
Lem’s muscles went tight again, and this time the noise was a low moan that Jules recognized as pleasure. Jules allowed his hands to slide up along Lem’s thighs, enjoying the strength between his hands. The moans and other noises that Lem made let him know that Lem was enjoying this as much as he was.
The flavor of salt on his tongue was addictive, and he pulled, searching for more. Drop by drop, Lem’s pleasure dripped into his mouth. Oh, so rich. He hungered for it, growling softly.
“Jules. Yes. My prince, all that I am is yours.” Lem’s words were breathless and punctuated by moans.
Soon Lem began to move, thighs and hips working to push the thick member deeper into Jules’ mouth. He took all he could, then he challenged himself to take more. He would not have thought it possible, but Lem’s swelling was growing larger, harder.
A humming grew inside Jules, growing within him.
“Jules! I’m going to spend.”
Oh, yes. Yes. More, please. He pulled harder.
“Jules!” This time his name was almost a roar, and bitter, salty liquid fountained up into his mouth.
He lapped as much as he could, unwilling to waste the bitter, salty fluid.
Lem’s hand landed on his head, stroking through his hair. “My prince. So good.”
Jules hummed, nuzzling the soft shaft, the curly silver hairs crowning the sweet cock.
Lem continued to pet him, making soft, pleased noises. “I cannot think when you do that.”
“Mmm.” That did not make him worried. Neither did the fact that Lem’s swelling had not gone down at all. It meant he got to play with it longer.
It was lazy, easy, and so fun, to be able to linger like this.
“Oh, please. More.”
“More.” He rested on Lem’s thigh, pulling lazily at the tip.
Low, needful sounds came out of Lem, the sounds making him swell as well. He felt as if he were bathing, soaking in the warm water, buoyed. Oh, they could do this in his tub! It was big enough for both of them. Hounds, it was big enough to hold Lem in his dragon form.
“Can... do you like water?” he asked.
“I love water. You know that. You’ve seen me drink it.”
“I mean bathing.”
“Oh! Yes, I enjoying bathing.”
“I have a tub.” Jules had a wonderful picture in his mind of the two of them in his tub.
“Would you like me to draw you a bath, my prince?”
“Us? I would share with you.”
“Oh, Oh, yes, please.”
He grinned, suddenly excited. “Yes? I never have.”
“You’ve never bathed?” Lem sounded, and looked, shocked.
“Lem!” Jules giggled happily. “Do I seem filthy?”
“No! Of course not! But you said you’d never...” Lem looked confused now, brows furrowing.
“Not with another!” His laughter rang out, his happiness too big to hold in.
“My prince is laughing at me.” Lem grabbed him up and stood, turning in a circle.
“With you. You simply haven’t remembered to laugh.” Dizzy! Lem made him dizzy with joy.
“I make you laugh, though, and so it doesn’t matter if I’ve remembered to do it or not.” Lem carried him toward their rooms.
“You make me fly, Lem.”
“You know my answer to that. I want to teach you to fly for real.”
“I know.” But that was impossible.
“One day, I will teach you, I swear it.”
“I believe you.” He believed Lem wanted it.
They went in, Lem carrying him into the room at the very back of his suite.
“Do you still wish to bathe together, my prince?”
“Yes. Yes, very much.” Very much.
“Then it shall happen.”
Lem set him carefully on the large rock chair next to the big bath. He curled up, watching Lem draw the bath, watching the efficiency of motion. Soon the room filled with steam and earthy scents.
“The oils remind me of the rivers that run from the mountains,” Lem told him.
“Tell me of them?”
Lem’s eyes grew a faraway look. “The mountains are huge. Nothing is taller than them, and they reach up beyond the clouds.”
“And you flew about them?”
“I did. I flew over them and through them and among them. One day, you will, too,” Lem insisted.
“Was it cold? Warm?” Jules wanted to. He wanted to fly.
“Both. The mountain tops are covered in snow all year round, and the waters that flow from there are so cold, it feels like they are freezing your insides if you drink from them.” Lem tested the water, then adjusted one of the copper taps bringing the water in. “And below, it follows our own seasons—although it is never as hot as it can get in the castle. Never overbearing.”
“And the winds? Do they blow?”
“Oh, Jules, the winds blow always. Lifting you while you’re flying, cooling you when you are not. And singing. Always singing through the mountains. I was told as a child that the mountain and the wind are made for each other.”
Jules listened, utterly enrapt.
Lem glanced at him, appearing suddenly shy. “I feel as if I was made for you as the mountain was made for the wind.”
“You are my mountain or my wind?” Both were lovely, perfect thoughts.
“I am your mountain, my prince. You could only ever be the wind.”
“Your wind.” Oh, what a lovely image.
“Yes, Jules. My wind.” Lem shivered and came to him, holding him tight. “Now come into the water with me so you may have your wish.”
“Yes. Yes, please.” He dropped his robes, his body erect and aching.
“Oh, my prince.” Lem groaned, gaze like a touch on his swelling.
His instinct was to hide, but not from Lem, simply because he had been taught it was wrong. So he didn’t hide. He preened. Lem reached for him, fingers gentle, reverent. Jules fluttered as he stepped forward, a low cry escaping him.
“I have you, my prince.” Lem’s arms slid around him, his strong dragon lifting him up and carrying him into the tub.
They sank down together in the water. It was warm, silken. It felt like he was floating, but Lem’s arms held him close, kept him from drifting away.
“Oh.” He’d never experienced anything so erotic, so sensual.
Lem began to touch him, solid fingers sliding on his skin, slick in the water.
“Magic.” Better than. He didn’t have words for how good it was.
“Just water, my prince.”
Water and Lem. He thought maybe Lem could make anything magical.
“More than,” he argued. There was an alchemy between them.
Lem nodded. “You make everything special.”
“We do, together.”
Lem smiled and kissed him softly. “You do me honor.”
“I hope so.” No one else had ever said so.
Lem kissed him yet again. “I love how your lips feel against mine.”
“I can’t believe this is forbidden.” Perhaps it was because everyone would become distracted by this amazing thing, and nothing would ever get done if it were allowed.
“Shh. You are the prince. Nothing is forbidden.”
Jules sighed softly. Were that it was so.
“I will find a way to bring you everything you wish for,” Lem assured him.
“I believe you.”
“You should. I will do it.”
So sure, so serious, his guardian.
Taking the soap, Lem began to wash him, hands sliding over his skin, making him shiver deliciously. His body ached with the pleasure trying to escape. Lem’s fingers lingered on his rear, stroking. He shivered, his body refusing his command to relax, to enjoy
. Lem found his swelling and wrapped a soapy hand around it.
“Oh. It aches so,” Jules murmured, arching into Lem’s touch.
Lem rubbed the tip of his shaft, back and forth, over and over. Jules’ eyes crossed, his toes curling at the sensation. Lem licked at his lips, and the sensations merged, shaft and lips both tingling.
“My Lem.” He moaned the name into their kiss, blessing it.
“Jules.” His name was a whisper from Lem’s lips, a breath, a prayer.
“Yours.” His word was a promise.
“As I am yours,” Lem replied.
They stretched together in the water, soft moans bouncing off the stone. How could something so beautiful be wrong?
They continued to move together, Lem keeping his swelling stimulated, fingers pushing him higher. His skin didn’t fit, and he stretched his legs to make room. One of Lem’s legs wrapped around the back of his, which brought their middles closer together. Lem was so hot, but his swelling was even hotter. They couldn’t actually catch fire in the water, though, could they? No. No, the water would save them. It must.
He held on, his belly aching, the muscles so tight.
“My beautiful prince. I could not have made you up, even in my dreams.” Lem’s hand moved faster on his swelling, and it felt like his sac was growing bigger and bigger with need, filling to bursting with his seed.
“No need. I was here, waiting.” Just as now he was waiting for this delicious tension to end, to ease.
It grew first, becoming more than he thought he could contain, and still it grew. Every touch of Lem’s hand brought him closer to what he wanted. The dragon surged forward from within him again, and he gasped, fighting the urge.
No. No, you can’t come out. You cannot.
Lem’s lips wrapped around the spot where his throat met his collarbone, Lem sucking at first, then biting down on his skin. That helped not at all. Jules arched, his feet banging on the bottom of the tub. Lem’s hand squeezed him terribly, wonderfully tight.
“Please. He wants out!” Jules didn’t know how to stop it.
Lem frowned. “Who?”
“The dragon.”
“Oh! There’s not enough room in here,” Lem told him. “Think about your shaft. Expel the urge through that.”
“My shaft. Yes. My need.”
