Page 49 of Immortal Sentry

He lavished Eron’s cock with his tongue, determined to give as much pleasure as he’d gotten. Eron’s wiry groin hair tickled Kerric’s nose as he dove, taking Eron deep.

If this would be his only encounter with Eron, Kerric planned to make it a memory not soon forgotten, especially while standing guard over this kingdom for eternity if things didn’t go as they should.

They had to. Eron must live and become king, even if it meant Kerric must watch him marry a noblewoman and have children with her.

One hand on top of Kerric’s head, Eron shoved forward, fucking Kerric’s mouth. So forceful. No shy little lordling here. Kerric gripped Eron’s hips as much to keep his balance as to urge Eron on, muscles flexing beneath his fingers.

Kerric lost himself in the moment, finally being with the highwayman who’d caught his attention. But Eron wasn’t a highwayman, was he? A prince? A king?

A man seeking release in Kerric’s mouth?

Kerric redoubled his efforts, running his tongue along the underside of Eron’s cock, depending on moans and tightening fingers to tell him when he’d done right.

Based on the guttural sounds and Eron’s firm grip, he liked it. A lot.

“Oh, gods! What you make me feel,” Eron muttered, never losing his rhythm. “The way you take my cock into your mouth. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes!” He threw back his head, unloading into Kerric's mouth, pulse after pulse.

Kerric kept sucking until Eron stopped shuddering and collapsed onto the bench. He bent down, yanked Kerric forward, and tasted himself on Kerric’s tongue. Kerric could’ve stayed there forever, kissing Eron in the gazebo, away from curses, murderers, and commoner versus royalty.

For now, they were simply two men. Kerric couldn’t speak for anyone else, but he’d become enamored of Eron ever since seeing him in the forest. Not Prince Eron, not even Lordling Night, just Eron, who’d lured Kerric to a secret trysting place.

They put their clothes to rights, and then Eron wrapped his cloak around them both. They traded kisses, holding each other close. Light snow fell outside their bubble of magical protection. A perfect moment. If they rose, if they moved, they’d break some kind of spell. Bad things waited outside their cocoon. Bad things Kerric didn’t want to face at the moment and hoped Eron would never have to.

But they couldn’t stay here forever.

They did, however, doze in each other’s arms.

“Tell me about you,” Eron murmured sleepily once they’d both awakened. “I know you’re not originally from this kingdom, and your mother worked here, but little more.”

“It’s not too interesting a tale. My mother was a merchant’s daughter from Splosia, who fell in love with a soldier and married against her father’s wishes. Her parents disowned her. She came here to be with my father and bore three children, though I’m the only one to survive to adulthood.”

“My mother lost several babes, too. That’s the reason there’s an age difference between me, Lessa, and Dafron. My mother died trying to give birth to my younger sister.”

“I had heard from my mother about the queen’s ill luck. I think that might be why they got along so well: the shared loss. After Father died in battle, your mother took pity and employed my mother as a personal servant. Mother learned social graces in her childhood and even maintained wealthy connections through relatives. I’ve visited Splosia many times, but never my grandparents. Then I joined the military at sixteen, moved up to king’s guard at twenty, and worked my way to captain six summers later.” Kerric dropped a kiss on the top of Eron’s head. “And you? How did you come to live with Lady Kennestone?”

“Master Anthone, my tutor, woke me before dawn, had me dress in old clothes, and took me to the stables. I wish I knew what happened to him.”

Kerric hated being the bearer of ill tidings. “He wouldn’t tell Crau where you were, so Crau killed him.” Eron didn’t need toknow about the whipping, which still haunted Kerric at times. Far too many hours he’d spent in his gargoyle form, hearing Anthone’s whimpers and screams and wishing he could have helped.

Eron stiffened. “Oh, no! Too many good people gave their lives for mine. I hope to be worthy of their sacrifice one day.”

Kerric gave Eron a reassuring squeeze. “You are already. What happened then?”

“The stable master disguised me as a commoner child and hid me in the forest. Soldiers came to kill him. He died protecting me.” Eron paused for several moments, his hard swallows audible. “Kene came hoping to rescue Dafron and found me instead. She took me with her when she discovered she was too late to save my brother. Now, granted, I only recently rediscovered all this. I had little memory of my life here. But I’ve spent most of my time in Dillane, though I’ve visited Splosia.”

“I thought there were hints in your accent. When you’re with me, you seem to relax and don’t sound so Estian.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t know many merchants.”

“That’s all right. My grandparents are long gone and of no consequence to me.” Kerric had said those words so many times, mostly to appease others. How surprising to finally mean them. “What happened after Elzabai, I mean, Kene, rescued you?”

“She took me in and taught me all I needed to know to survive in the world.”

“How to be a highwayman, you mean?”

Eron locked his gaze on Kerric’s for several moments. “What I am about to tell you cannot be revealed. Swear it.”

What could be so damaging as to require such an oath? “I swear.”

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