Page 64 of The Prince and the Ice King

“Feel how hard I am?”

Reardon gave an initial shaky stroke. “Yes.”

“I’m not yet where I will be.” Jutting his hips forward, Jack dragged his tip along Reardon’s crease again so he would understand his size and that he was not yet full. “Keep on. Get me there.” Jack rocked into Reardon’s hand and against those parted cheeks, his arm coiled around him to continue offering similar strokes—an infinite loop of pleasure building.

Each pump from Reardon’s hand pressed his own knuckles against his backside, and the tip of Jack kept teasing there too. In turn, Reardon’s motion rocked him into Jack’s hand, with mewling whimpers and gasps spilling from his lips. Despite the pooling wetness between them, however, it wasn’t nearly enough.

And Jack couldn’t prepare Reardon the way they were now.

He stilled his hand and grabbed Reardon’s wrist with the other. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Reardon cried. “Please, Majesty—”

“Then don’t open your eyes. I will stop and banish you from my sight if you do.”

“I swear.”

Jack released him and stepped back.

“Majesty—!”

“I am only disrobing. Stay as you are.”

The sight of Reardon’s body displayed with open thighs and cock dripping between them made it difficult not to stroke himself to completion just from the view. Jack kicked away his trousers and threw off his shirt.

“Get the rest of your clothes from around your ankles.”

Reardon did so without using his hands or shifting much from how he remained bent over the desk. He seemed to like that position, and Jack might have kept him there, but he had better supplies in the other rooms.

Reardon’s skin was a perfect pale swath of peach, lean muscles down his legs, taut shoulders, narrow hips, and a budded entrance waiting for a slick touch….

“Majesty?”

“Still impatient, little prince?”

“No. Well, yes, but… I will keep my eyes closed, but please, I want to pleasure you as well, whatever ways you want from me.”

Jack stepped toward him. “Being inside you will accomplish that.”

“Y-yes.”

“But….” Cupping both spread cheeks before him, Jack squeezed the flesh being offered, his cock bobbing forward with its ready tip. “Your mouth would be a good start if you wish it. Eyes closed.” He hooked an arm around Reardon’s knees and scooped him into his arms, eliciting a quiet gasp. Lumbering like an ogre had made Jack stronger, or perhaps Reardon, for all his height and long limbs, was simply that light.

The prince flailed to cling to Jack’s neck but kept his eyes closed as promised. Sure steps brought Jack into the bedroom, hard and weeping though he may be, and he laid Reardon upon the bed with his feet facing the top. Reardon seemed reluctant to be released and dropped his arms slowly from around Jack, fingers brushing lightly across Jack’s cheek. There were scars there too, but Reardon remained content without flinching as he stretched upon the bed.

Turning from him, Jack went to the bath to gather oils. Reardon didn’t disobey by trying to steal a glimpse, merely craned his ears and waited.

“Have you decided, then?” Jack asked when he returned.

“Majesty?”

Jack gave his length a few firm tugs before setting the items he’d gathered on the bed. The back view of Reardon’s prone form had been tempting, but like this, Jack could see the lines of his hips pointing to tantalizing hardness, wet and scarlet red. His lips were equally colored, pouty and parted, as if already answering Jack’s question, “If I may have use of your mouth?”

“O-oh….” Reardon blushed far too prettily, too virginally for Jack to not want to have those lips on him every way he could, but he needed Reardon to say it. “Yes, Majesty. Gladly yes.”

Climbing onto the bed, kneeling at the foot, with Reardon’s head between his knees, Jack began to lower himself. Reardon tilted his head back and opened his salivating mouth to take Jack in.

And oh, theheat—Jack had forgotten how good it felt to be enveloped by such warmth. He trembled as Reardon trembled, the prince’s hands clutching the sheets with nothing else to hang on to and sucking him in a good two, three, four swallows without stopping. Jack’s moisture was lapped up, but Reardon’s mouth’s own watering overflowedpast the corners of his mouth, just as his eyes began to water too. Yet he swallowed Jack in again—andagain.

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