He urged Cassius to turn and face him, and then Merrick sprang to his knees as well. They moaned as their wet bodies connected from their shoulders to their groins, their pricks aligning perfectly together. As mouths and tongues joined, hands exploring flesh, fingertips grazing over necks and spines and buttocks, they became a gyrating mass of raw sensation.
Merrick took their pricks in hand, and they thrust in unison into his palm. “Yes, just like that.”
He seized Cassius’s lips and buried his tongue deep, absorbing his sounds as Cassius sobbed and shivered against him. “Merrick,” he called out as his seed spurted in ribbons across Merrick’s fist.
Merrick couldn’t stop the strangled noise bursting from his throat as his body tensed and dizzying pleasure ripped through his loins as he spent hard into his own hand.
They collapsed against each other, arms intertwined, gasping with muffled words as they got their senses about them.
When Marjorie’s singsong voice could be heard from the hall, they froze to listen until the sound faded. “I…I had better go,” Cassius warned, worming his arms free of Merrick’s.
As they hurriedly toweled off and Cassius clumsily stepped into his clothes while Merrick pulled on his robe, reality crashed down upon them, and Merrick prayed that Cassius had no regrets.
At the door, Merrick reached for Cassius’s hand. “Please stay with me…for only this night. I know I cannot offer anything more, but I do not want to let you go.”
“I…I cannot.” Cassius forcefully shook his head, fear lancing through his gaze. “I should leave.”
“One last kiss, then,” Merrick pleaded, fearing it might indeed be their last, and Cassius smiled dreamily before he obliged, their lips and tongues meeting in a desperate and clumsy dance.
Merrick licked at his lips, chasing Cassius’s taste until long after he left.
18
Cassius
Cassius could not sleep. He’d lain in his bed for close to an hour, and his eyes had yet to close except briefly each time he blinked. His mouth tasted of brandy from the prince’s tongue. He felt dizzy from it, as though he had drunk a bottle down himself, but really it was Merrick who made his head spin. Who intoxicated him.
The prince’s hands had been upon him. They had kissed and touched, and he had asked Cassius to stay. Why hadn’t he allowed himself to stay? He had spent the entirety of the opera hoping for a moment to claim something for himself. To throw caution to the wind and think of nothing except his wants, his desires, his happiness, and yet when the moment had arisen, when he’d had a chance to lie in bed with the prince, to invite Merrick into his body or to disappear inside Merrick, he had run.
It would forever be one of the most consuming regrets of his life because he longed for the prince in ways he had never longed for anyone or anything else. He was like the most beautiful words Cassius could ever write brought to life. He was the greatest story ever told, and Cassius had denied himself the chance to read him, to study him, to engrain Merrick into his brain and skin and soul.
His prick was heavy, hard against his stomach, but it was more than that. His fingers itched to learn Merrick’s body, to learn what the prince felt like in his arms. To hear Merrick moan his name like he was something. To share his truth with Cassius, a truth that belonged to them.
Without allowing himself to think, Cas shoved from his bed. He pulled on trousers over his undergarments before he jerked a shirt on. Cassius’s fingers shook every moment, but he did not let that stop him. He wanted to live, to pretend their lives were their own, even if it was for one night only.
He pulled socks on his feet before he glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. The staff did not come alive until five, so they had a few hours together. If he still wants me.
That thought made his fear kick in, made it seep into his bones, but Cassius could not, would not, let it hold him back from this moment for himself…for Merrick as well.
Quietly, Cassius slipped from his room. The hallway was silent. He feared even to breathe as questions circled through his head. What would he say if they asked where he was going and why? Could he lie and say the prince had called upon him? Would Merrick say the same? He knew the prince would, somehow he knew that he would go to any length to protect Cassius. As much as Cassius knew his family loved him, as close as Valor was to him, did he have anyone who had protected him before? He didn’t think he did.
His heart thudded against his chest as he took the stairs as quietly as possible. The castle made night noises Cassius fought to ignore.
There was a click as he made his way down the hall to the prince’s quarters. Cassius ducked behind a statue, keeping his breath trapped in his lungs. He would lose his position. He had the world at stake in continuing…yet just as much at stake in walking away.
When there was no other noise, no other movement, Cassius began walking again. He’d likely imagined the sound or maybe he had not. The only thing he was certain of was his need for the prince, for them to claim this one moment in time, before duty dug its claws into them deeper.
Fear surged through Cassius when he reached Merrick’s door. He could not risk knocking, so he opened it slowly, quietly, hoping it was not an error and the prince would be happy he’d come back.
As he opened it, his gaze snagged upon the prince, whose eyes darted up to rein Cassius in. He sat on the edge of his bed, his legs shaking as though their need created an overwhelming surge of energy inside him as well. Another mug of brandy sat beside his bed.
“You returned,” the prince whispered.
“Does the offer still stand, Pr—Merrick? Do you still want me?” His voice quivered as he waited, hoped.
“So much, I do not feel comfortable in my own skin. It is as if you lit a fire within me that I cannot control…and I don’t want to, Cassius.”
Cassius yearned to fall to his knees in gratitude. He stepped farther inside as Merrick stood. Cassius closed the door, clicking the lock into place behind him. When the prince reached him, his arm rose and he fingered Cas’s hair, which was loose around his face. He never allowed himself to wear his hair down outside his chamber, and he couldn’t believe he had forgotten. “Forgive me… I…”
“There is nothing to forgive. You are…breathtaking, Cassius.”
“Cas. If I am to call you Merrick when we are alone, you can call me Cas if you’d like.”
The prince smiled, making Cas’s stomach flip. “Cas,” he replied.
He did not see how he could be considered the breathtaking one with the prince in the room. He was everything Cassius was not. He set Cassius’s soul afire. And yet those words filled him in ways he did not know he needed filling. “You are…breathtaking, Cassius.”
“Cas,” the prince whispered again.
“Merrick,” Cassius tested the name on his tongue once more. “I would like to taste the brandy upon your lips. We can have tonight, can we not? Just tonight?” It was all they would ever be allowed to share. The prince would be forced to continue to court Lady Penelope or another woman, and Cassius would watch from afar and dream.
“If I cannot have more, then I will gladly take one night with you.” Merrick clutched Cas’s hand, twined their fingers together, and led him to the side of his bed. “May I undress you tonight?”
Shivers wracked Cassius’s body. To hear the prince make a request such as that to him… “Yes, my prince.”
His response earned him a grin. Merrick’s fingers trembled as he opened Cassius’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders. He took in Cassius’s chest, brushed his fingers across Cassius’s collarbones.
“You tremble,” Cassius told him.
“You tremble as well.”
He had not noticed he did until Merrick pointed the truth out to him. “It is like a dream come true,” he admitted. They had both dreamed of one another, but now it was real. Now it was flesh and reality, and he wished this night could last an eternity.
“Maybe you will write it
one day…a story or a poem of a prince who desired his valet like his lungs yearned for air.”
His heart thundered, grew, swelled within his chest. Yes, Cassius thought he would. He could immortalize them in words.
Cassius gasped when Merrick lowered to his knees to remove Cas’s trousers and undergarments. His prick ached as it sprung free, and the prince leaned in, nudging his nose in the coarse hair at Cassius’s groin.
“Merrick.” Cassius twined his fingers in the prince’s soft hair.
“You smell of my soap.”
“I need you,” Cassius replied.
“I am here.”
Cassius tugged gently, urging the prince to his feet. He kissed his way up Cas’s stomach, chest, before he lashed his tongue over Cassius’s left nipple. Their mouths crashed together in a fierce storm of hunger and desire. They parted only to strip Merrick’s nightshirt before Cassius laid the prince upon the mattress. He was on his back, looking up at Cassius and smiling.
“What do you like, my prince?” Cassius asked before taking Merrick’s mouth again. Their tongues danced within each other’s mouths, giving and taking, tasting and exploring.
When his lips trailed down Merrick’s tender throat, he answered, “I like everything…to fuck and to be fucked, but if we can only have this one night, I would like you to be inside me.”
It was not lost on him that this was something Merrick would never have again…a man filling him, taking him. Pride surged through Cassius’s chest that it could be him, while sorrow thickened his blood. It was not fair. Merrick was good and kind, and he deserved every happiness he sought. It was not right he should be denied his truth. “I am honored, Merrick, and not because you are a prince, but because you are you.”
The prince sucked in a sharp breath before Cassius kissed him again. He tasted brandy and Merrick, smelled eucalyptus and Merrick, wished he could forever wash in the same soap so he would always smell the prince.
He kissed his way down Merrick’s body. There was a voice present in his mind, telling him that he should be afraid, that he should fear getting caught, but he could not bring himself to fear anything with Merrick beneath him.
When he settled between Merrick’s thighs, the prince pulled his legs back in invitation. His hole was tight, pink, and so incredibly mouthwatering that Cassius almost lost his head. He brushed it with his finger, watched the pucker clench as Merrick breathed choppily.
“Please, Cas.” The plea was tender and needy. It vibrated in Cassius’s chest. He leaned in, lapping at Merrick’s entrance. He tasted of soap and desire. His hand moved to Cas’s hair again, his grip tightening as Cassius ate at him. He was drunk off Merrick, craved him with an intensity he did not even recognize.
Cassius sucked his finger before pushing it inside the prince. His body clasped tightly around Cas’s digit as Cassius licked at Merrick’s full sac. He had never had such sweetness on his tongue, never heard such lovely sounds as the prince taking pleasure from him.
He continued to work Merrick open with one finger, then two and his tongue. The prince writhed beneath him; his prick leaked on his stomach. Cas ached as well, his balls heavy with seed.
“I have oil…” Merrick said. “Beneath my pillow. I was going to pleasure myself.”
Cassius could not help but grin. “Now I shall do it for you…and you me.”
He sat up on his knees as the prince handed him the oil. He slicked his prick and Merrick’s opening before he raised the prince’s legs until they rested over his shoulders.
Their eyes met, the truth reflecting in them. This was all they would have…all Merrick would ever have.
“I…” he started.
“Shh. Please.” Merrick placed his finger against Cas’s lips. “I just want this moment.”
And Cassius desired nothing more than to give it to him. They did not take their eyes off one another as Cassius pushed his way inside the prince. He was a tight, hot fist around Cassius’s prick.
“Yes…Cas…yes…” Merrick’s eyes rolled back, and he clutched Cassius’s arms as if this moment was the only one he had ever lived. Cas pumped his hips, thrust within the prince, before retreating and filling him again.
Their breaths synced. Their sweat mixed. Their bodies moved against each other as the prince dug his nails into Cassius’s buttocks.
He felt as though this was his first time lying with a man, because nothing compared to this moment with Merrick.
They fucked fast…then slow…savored and took advantage at the same time.
“Right there, Cas,” the prince said, and Cassius held himself up, hands on the bed as he thrust over and over and over. The prince wrapped a hand around his prick, stroked his thick, lovely cock until his body tensed, his hole squeezed around Cassius, and his seed shot up his abdomen and chest. Bliss spread across Merrick’s face, a sunburst, or a shooting star. He was lovely when he came.
Cassius bit his lip, feared he drew blood as pleasure created a whirlwind inside him that he could not prevent getting swept away in. His orgasm rocked through him as he spent deep within the prince, shooting once, then again.
He fell atop the prince, licked the sweat from his collarbone as Merrick’s arms and legs wrapped around him. “It has never been like that for me,” the prince admitted.
“It has never been like that for me either.”
They lay together as long as they could, holding each other, kissing each other, touching each other. When Cassius was forced to dress, they were quiet, solemn.
Merrick threaded his fingers through Cassius’s hair, pushed it behind his ears, before he dropped his forehead against Cassius’s. “Say my name again.”
“Merrick,” Cassius replied. “Merrick, Merrick, Merrick,” he said against the prince’s lips.
“I shall never forget this moment.” He kissed Cassius’s cheek, the corner of his mouth. “It will be with me always, and I will always long for more.”
“I will forever long for more as well, my prince.” His chest squeezed tight in a way it shouldn’t have. He knew what this was and had to remember that.
Merrick cupped Cassius’s face in his hands. “Thank you.”
“Please do not thank me for this.”
Merrick nodded. “Be careful. Please. If you are caught, blame me. I called upon you because I could not sleep. I had a headache and asked for you to draw me another bath.”
Protection. He tried to protect Cas, and that meant everything to him. “Yes, Your Highness,” Cassius replied, hating the formality but needing to become accustomed to it again.
“Merrick,” he said again before kissing Cassius so deeply, their souls touched.
And then, without another word, Cassius turned and slipped out the door before it became impossible to do so.
19
Merrick
How was the opera?” Merrick’s mother asked after dinner as she tapped the keys of the piano in the parlor room.
“Fine,” Merrick replied in a distracted voice. His mind was again on his valet, whom he hadn’t laid eyes on since early that morning as he took a day to himself to visit with his family. And after what they’d shared, he felt nearly hollow without him.
The night of the opera would forever remind Merrick of his night with Cassius. A night he would always treasure. If he had to enter into a marital agreement with someone he could never care for romantically—besides the obvious inequity of depriving the woman of someone to share her affections—he was grateful for the memory. He was still sore, but he loved that every time he shifted in his seat, he was reminded of the one true night he’d shared with the man he’d grown so utterly and completely fond of.
“You know what your mother is asking,” Merrick’s father replied as he sat near him on the settee, thumbing through the daily newspaper. “She’d like to know about your evening with Lady Wellington, and frankly, I’m curious as well.”
“We all are,” Marjorie added in a droll voice from her seat across from him, and he wanted
to cast a glare in her direction but held himself back. He would give her an earful later.
“She is a lovely person.” Merrick cringed inwardly, carefully choosing his words. “The opera was…entertaining.” Not that Merrick could remember any of it.
And suddenly, he wondered if Cassius had enjoyed the production, and for that matter, whether he’d ever attended the opera. It had not occurred to him to ask. He had so forgotten himself that night. Did Cassius enjoy the arts? Did he have a fondness for other things besides poetry and horses? He longed to ask him.
“But?” his mother inquired, snapping him out of his thoughts as her fingers paused on the keys.
He sighed. “I did not feel one way or another, Mother. I’m…I’m sorry.”
The room grew silent as his family seemed to study him. His father appeared disappointed, his mother befuddled, and Marjorie just looked sad.
He had not found any of the ladies he’d courted over the years agreeable, but it wasn’t a thing he could help. He wished he could explain, tell them the truth. But he feared disappointing them. Besides, it wasn’t an option for the prince. After all, he was next in line for the royal throne, and it was his sole burden to sustain the monarchy.
The thought dropped like a cold stone in his stomach.
“The staff will think you are utterly impossible to please,” Marjorie suddenly blurted out, as if to help lighten the mood. “According to Isabella, they had taken bets on whether or not you would become bewitched by Lady Penelope’s beauty.”
He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Is that so?”
His gaze glided over her shoulder to their butler, Harris, who cleared his throat and averted his eyes. In another instant, he reached for the tray with the empty tea kettle near his mother and left the room.
“Finding a match is not always about outer beauty,” Merrick replied. “Unless you are claiming that is all you see in Charles? A handsome face?”
Ever After (Forbidden Love #1) Page 12
