Page 55 of Immortal Sentry

A puzzled frown scrunched his face a moment before he realized what Eron held. “Do you want me to…”

Eron growled, “Shut up and fuck me.” He spread his legs in invitation and crooked his knees, open and ready.

Kerric pulled back and took the vial with shaking hands. He unstopped it and poured some of the contents onto two fingers. With far too much caution, he rubbed his slick fingers over Eron’s entrance.

Eron thrust back, wanting to feel those fingers inside him, his cock painfully erect.

Slowly, oh so slowly, those two fingers working him opened, sinking in, then retreating before plunging in deeper until they hit his prostate. “Oh, damnation.” Eron closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling and the knowledge that soon he’d have Kerric’s cock inside him.

Those fingers withdrew, and Eron watched in fascination as Kerric spread oil onto his cock, giving himself a few good strokes.

“Now!” Eron demanded.

The look on Kerric’s face bordered on a smirk. He lined himself up, the head of his cock pushing against Eron’s hole.

Eron anticipated the burn, the stretch, longing for the fullness. Kerric sank in. Eron groaned. “That feels so damned perfect.”

Kerric lifted Eron’s feet onto his shoulders, balanced his weight on his arms, and buried himself in Eron’s body. Eron writhed, digging his fingers into the bed covers. Too much and not enough all at the same time. His thoughts grew fuzzy, and all he could do was feel Kerric thrusting into him in long, powerful strokes.

Kerric bent awkwardly, taking Eron’s mouth, tangling their tongues together. He retreated, staring down at Eron like no lover ever had before. Eron felt open and vulnerable yet desired and treasured.

He put weight on Kerric’s shoulders so he could thrust upward, setting a faster, harder rhythm. The slap of skin against skin, the protests of the bed, and the moans from himself and Kerric kept Eron on edge. He fulfilled his fantasy by gripping Kerric’s upper arm with one hand, losing himself in the flexing of powerful muscles as he stroked his cock with the other.

Time after time, he took Kerric inside him, each stroke bringing him closer to completion. He must hold on and make things good for Kerric as well. Then Kerric shifted, his cockheadhitting just the right spot… Eron couldn’t have stopped his impending orgasm for all the coin in Ala.

Kerric’s lips were on Eron’s again, and Eron couldn’t hold back the tide. With a muffled yell into Kerric’s mouth, he came, convulsing as pulse after pulse erupted between their bodies. His hand slid easier. When the pressure almost proved too much for Eron’s spent body, Kerric threw his head back, eyes closed. His eyes flew open as he gazed open-mouthed at Eron. Every muscle seized, and Kerric came with a long, low moan.

He closed his eyes once more, shook his head, held still, breathing erratic and a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

He’d never been more gorgeous.

Eron eased his feet off Kerric’s shoulders with a groan of his own. That was… That was… He wasn’t quite sure, but he’d been doing something wrong if this was what sex between two men should be like. They hadn’t exchanged pretty words, nor had they drawn out their encounter. Eron couldn’t have taken the wait. Next time, though, he’d take his time and be more thorough. Explore every inch of Kerric’s body. Leave the man a shuddering, quivering mess of contentment.

Kerric eased out and flopped down on the bed.

Eron pulled Kerric into his arms. His heart raced against Kerric’s ear, and he let out a laugh. How glorious. How absurd, stealing away to slake his lust with this man. A man who also happened to be a gargoyle. A gargoyle!

And unlike anyone Eron had ever met, even without the gargoyle part.

But how incredible. Eron had never felt so alive, not even while hunting under a full moon on a warm summer’s evening. They lay entwined, Eron’s breathing and heart rate slowing. The room was cool, but Kerric kept him warm. If he wasn’t too sated to move, Eron might have suggested they climb beneath the covers or return to the main room and the fire.

Unprecedented contentment washed through him—a bit of calm within the storm.

Debauched looked good on Kerric. He’d also relaxed, languishing in the rumpled covers. He brushed a kiss to Eron’s temple. “As pleasant as this is, now we must hurry. It wouldn’t do for you to be late.”

Eron groaned. What wouldn’t he give to lie in bed with this gorgeous man, not have to enter the viper’s nest of scheming nobles? Besides, Kerric still had a few old battle scars Eron hadn’t kissed yet.

But Lessa waited for him. Eron must save her. He gave up his few moments of peace to return to his rooms and the role fate had laid out for him.

At the moment, he wasn’t very happy with fate.

Eron stood before the polished silver mirror, looking every bit the prince he hadn’t lived as since childhood, in a dark blue velvet tunic and black breeches tucked into tall black boots. Gold and silver threads formed vine patterns on the tunic.

Kerric tugged a seam into place, a pleased expression on his handsome face. “You look as regal as any who’ll attend tonight.”

“How did you learn to be a valet?” Eron brushed back a stray lock of hair.

“I told you. My mother was your mother’s maid and confidante. I also helped take care of some of the servants’ younger children.”

---