Page 11 of The Wolf's Prince
“Your legs were shaking like a baby deer's taking its first steps,” he informed him. “You look like you were rolling in the grass and your clothes are in pieces. I hardly think me carrying you in is any worse than that.”
Nikolai felt his entire face heat.
“I will take a side entrance,” Soren promised, and Nikolai sighed, nodding his permission.
Still, he buried his face against the crook of Soren's neck while he was carried, at least hoping to avoid eye contact with anyone they might pass.
They were already around the side wall when he peaked, having gone in the opposite direction to the ball. A minute later, Soren pulled open a door.
It was a servant’s entrance, he guessed by the narrow hallway and rickety staircase. Somehow, Soren seemed to know his way around.
He took the dark staircase up with Nikolai held in his arms like he was weightless.
When they emerged from the dim hallway, somewhere on the second floor, into a marble-floored corridor, Nikolai realized that they were somewhere in the guest quarters, near the room he shared with his brother.
“Let me walk now,” Nikolai insisted quietly, catching a guard's eye from across the hall and feeling his cheeks heat.
Soren didn't bother to respond, because he had already reached his door.
He shifted Nikolai enough to grip the handle and push the door open, carrying him through the threshold into his bed chambers.
Somewhere along the way, this whole night had taken a surreal turn.
Nikolai had expected to meet a lot of new people, dance half the night, get tipsy, and fall into someone's bed for fun. But when Soren reverently laid him down on his large bed, it did not feelfun. It felt momentous.
Their gazes were glued together and meaning dripped from Soren’s every movement.
He took Nikolai’s hand in his own and gently pressed his lips to the knuckles, never breaking eye contact.
Nikolai shivered.
He wanted to demand answers. Suddenly panicked at Soren’s words about lifemates again, but he couldn’t even begin to find words.
“Rest here,” Soren said gently. “I will take care of you.”
Again, Nikolai was powerless to do anything but what Soren wanted.
He remained on the bed, spread out, leaning back on his elbows as Soren went to the wash basin.
He didn't ask Nikolai to remove his clothing, but when he returned to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, with a washcloth and the basin, he began to carefully undress him again.
Like this, in the brightness of his room, laying on a bed, beingcaredfor, Nikolai suddenly felt self-conscious and simultaneously aroused all over again.
By the time Soren came to the waist of his filthy pants and began to unbutton them, the front was bulging.
Soren slowed there, letting his fingers brush over the mound sensually, making Nikolai shudder before he pulled the pants open, freeing his length from within.
Nikolai bit his lips, his face hot with embarrassment and hopeful desire.
He doubted that he could handle that big cock inside him again so soon, but he wanted more.
Soren didn't deliver though, at least, not at once. He simply undressed him.
Then, with a long look at Nikolai, he took the wet towel and began to gently clean him, starting with the dirt on the palms of his hands and in his fingernails, then moving to the elbows.
Then, although Nikolai's chest was clear, he moved the towel there, rubbing the fabric over his nipples, one at a time, the whole while, carefully watching the way Nikolai bit his lips. Finally, he moved to the true mess, gently cleaning the dried crystals of come from the faint hairs on his belly.
Nikolai gasped at the feeling of the wet fabric sliding under his cock as Soren cleaned.
