Page 96 of The Prince and the Ice King

“Mmm… the broadness of your shoulders….” Reardon licked Jack’s cock again. “The lean firmness of your muscles… it paints an appealing picture, Majesty, and one day you will let me see it.”

Sliding his fingers free, Reardon returned with the push of his head, slick from the extra oil on his fingers but with a wonderful added stretch that Jack hadn’t felt in ages, the stretch of his own fingers or any salacious tool he used as replacement never able to compare.

“The way feels smooth….” Reardon panted, one hand guiding his cock, knuckles grazing Jack’s cheeks, and the other gripping the back of Jack’s thigh as he slowly pushed in. “But….”

“Reardon.”

“I-I… I can’t tell if you cringe, Majesty. I don’t want—”

“Take me,” Jack echoed what Reardon had first said to him, because Jack was no virgin, and he lifted just enough to grip the wrist of the hand on Reardon’s cock to squeeze and let him know he meant it. “You won’t hurt me.”

The bulb of Reardon’s head pushed deeper inside Jack in answer, and the rest of his shaft widened where it sunk in farther, until Jack felt undeniably full.

Then Reardon pulled back to thrust inside again.

Jack moaned—and for one wild unchained moment, he wanted to tear the scarf from Reardon’s eyes and let him see him.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t. Soon, he truly couldn’t, as Reardon’s thrusts sped up, the hand on his cock no longer needed and falling to Jack’s thigh like the other, tilting back his hips to sheathe in deep and make Jack incapable of anything but mewling pleas for more.

Jack wished he could see Reardon’s eyes in all their beautiful emerald green, but the flush to his cheeks and sweet part to his lips as he took Jack as expertly as he’d ever been taken was still breathtaking.

Reaching between his own legs again, Jack started pumping himself to the rhythm of Reardon’s rocking. Reardon must have felt/heard/sensed it, because his brow scrunched, and he asked, “Majesty, I can—” but the hesitation to reach for Jack meant his thrusting slowed.

“No,” Jack huffed. “Keep on. It’s everything I want. Don’t stop.”

Reardon listened, keeping his attention singularly focused, as Jack did the same—only Jack had the pleasure of a view. Witnessing his prince take him with such powerful force, the tingling burn growing hotter inside him and building his release quickly, made Jack cry out when he finally came, spilling over his fingers.

Hearing him finish spurred Reardon to go harder, faster, intensely claiming and thriving in it and eventually ending with him spilling hotlyinside Jack too, a surprised, embarrassed look overtaking his features that Jack read all too well. Reardon hadn’t warned him or asked, but Jack didn’t care. That warmth was not something he would ever want to go without.

“Well done… my little prince,” Jack soothed. “You are a man of many talents.”

Reardon snorted, relieved as Jack wanted, and then pulling away to pitch to the side and lay exhaustedly beside him. “I would offer to wipe away our mess, Majesty,” he said, “but I’m afraid I can’t see.”

Brat, Jack thought with a snort of his own, both of them tumbling into laughter. Jack wanted to let Reardon see him but also didn’t, and in the end, he was too afraid to say yes. “Let me catch my breath… and I can still clean us.”

Reardon nodded but couldn’t dismiss his frown.

The guilt Jack felt most days was so much stronger when he made Reardon look like that. Whatever love truly was, its pull was as strong as magic and hurt just as much too.

Jack cleaned them in silence but didn’t pull Reardon into a bath. He collected him in his arms and held him on the bed. He couldn’t give Reardon what he wanted, but he didn’t want to let him go either.

“May I ask something, Majesty?” Reardon said.

“Yes?”

“You enjoy reading romance, but you didn’t know more than carnal pleasures in your youth?”

“Do I have any lost loves, you mean? No. I didn’t allow myself that. It was only later, after the curse, that I began to realize what I had gone without and would never have.”

“Jack,” Reardon said, catching a gasp in Jack’s throat at it being uttered so plainly for once, “I do love you.”

Closing his eyes, Jack squeezed Reardon tighter against him. “Sometimes, my prince… I believe you.”

Reardon

Reardon woke slowly, confused at first by the large bed beneath him and the darkness when he opened his eyes. It was like waking while still within a pleasant dream.

Warm arms were wrapped around him as he lay on his side, a firm and even warmer chest against his back. Reardon smiled as he realized he’d gotten his wish and slept in the king’s bed again, but this was somuch better than sleeping alone, with the presence of the king not yet having turned to ice with morning.

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