Page 24 of Cinder
“You make me feel many a fiery thing,” Cin murmured, one hand pressed to the prince’s arm. Slowly, purposefully, he lifted himself, onto the tips of his toes and—
Prince Lorenz caught Cin’s mouth with his in an instant, both arms suddenly around Cin’s back as he pulled him closer. Cin could feel so much of the prince, his fingers grasping muscles, the press of jewelry or armor—or some other metal—over his heart beneath his jacket, his hips ground against Cin, one of histhighs wrapping around the side of Cin’s leg, his nose tucking against Cin’s cheek, and his mouth—hismouth. Their first kiss had been a simple brush of lips, but this was an act of devouring, teeth and tongue and reckless flurries of nerves so aggressive that Cin barely knew what to do with it but to moan and melt into the attention, letting Prince Lorenz take a small portion of what he had been asking for since the moment they met. It should have hurt more than it did—Cin’s ribs already aching, his binding cutting off his breath—but the spark deep inside him seemed to rage over the pain, pushing it aside, for better or for worse.
Quietly, gently, as to not be intrusive, Cin brushed one hand up into Prince Lorenz’s hair, gliding his fingers through the soft strands as the prince sucked on his lower lip so hard that the place between his legs seemed to catch fire. He swore he could feel the bundle of his want solidifying just as he caught the very obvious rise of the prince’s—hard and long and bringing flashes of when Prince Lorenz had held it in his own hand last week on the balcony.
“I want to touch you,” Prince Lorenz whispered, and it was a plea, but it was more than that: dark and low and heavy with lust.
“You want to do what?” Cin taunted, barely getting the words out into the crook of the prince’s shoulder as he sucked gloriously on Cin’s neck.
“I want,” Prince Lorenz growled this time, his hand grabbing Cin’s ass as he pulled Cin against him, rocking his hard bulge into the taut and ready point between Cin’s legs in a way that birthed fire deep inside Cin. “I want to press my fingers between your... folds? Do you have folds, or—”
“Yes,” Cin cut him off, laughing and groaning at the same time.
“I want to run my nails over the tenderest parts of you until you scream. I want to feel you come around my fingers and beg for more after.” He ground against Cin as he said it. Cin’s lashes fluttered and his hands grabbed the prince’s clothes on instinct, needing something, anything, to keep himself stable against the desire wracking through him.
“Yes,” Cin said again, and again as Prince Lorenz popped open the front buttons of Cin’s pants and pressed in his hand, rubbing downward with such purpose that Cin’s hips bucked into him, and again when he found Cin’s sweet spot with his thumb, rolling it as he sucked on Cin’s neck.
Then, Cin could say nothing at all, everything that came out of his mouth a torrent of emotion and need too sharp for words. He bit down on the prince’s shoulder, rocking into the prince’s hand as those fingers seemed to turn him inside out. It was like neither of the mediocre times he’d tried such things in town as a teen, with hints of the rush and fire he’d felt at home while thinking of the prince’s mouth, but this—this was hotter and heavier and fuller and rougher and better in every way, unpredictable and perfect.
The swell came between his legs with such sudden burning bliss that he had to bury his scream in Lorenz’s shoulder, his eyes rolling back as he came. He went nearly limp with panting after, clinging to the prince for support. His sweet spot tingled, leaving him with little, awkward sobs of pleasure as Prince Lorenz carefully withdrew his hand.
Cin knew, in the back of his mind, that he should be offering to return the favor—even if he didn’t know how to give anyone half of what Prince Lorenz had just given him—but the pain between his ribs was sliding back into being, harsher and more jagged than before. It was all he could do to hold to the wall with one hand and the prince with the other and pretend he hadn’t come out of that magical bliss into agony.
As he tried to pull himself together, the prince drew his hard dick out of his pants and began rubbing his own saliva aggressively up and down its length. One of his knees quavered and he leaned against the pigeonry wall. Almost immediately, he stiffened with a groan. Cum spilled over his fingers. He released a shaky breath.
They’d both finished.
It was over.
Cin found himself strangely disappointed—not in anything they'd done, but in that their moment of pleasure had come and gone so quickly, a spark of heaven followed by the hell that was forming in Cin’s sides. He knew he had no right to feel such loss over the speed of it all; whatever this was between them would never be meant for anything more than a kiss and a quick fuck. But at the thought of their evening foray coming to an end, Cin already found himself missing Prince Lorenz: his easy banter, his generous nature, his way of bringing Cin into the joke. And now his lips. And his tongue. And his fingers.
The prince cleared his throat, and Cin found he was staring at those very fingers. He turned his gaze out the nearest window—down to the castle entrance. His stomach dropped.
Below, Manfred and Emma were leaving.
Floy wasn’t with them, but it didn’t matter—if anyone reached their home to find Cin gone, his ruse would be up. No more ball nights, prince or no prince.
Cin gave a stiff bow to Prince Lorenz, feeling naked as he stepped toward the door, as though with each stride the prince might notice his pain and worry. “This was lovely, but I—”
“You’re leaving?” He said it with such sadness that Cin’s heart leaped.
The prince truly did like him—wanted to be here, with Cin, in this lucky tower, whether God smiled upon them or not. It madeCin want to kiss him again. But that wouldn’t stop his siblings from leaving the ball. “I’ll be back next week.”
“There’s so much left of the night!” Prince Lorenz made a show of looking Cin’s body up and down, a little quirk to his lips. “There’s so much left of you, as well.”
“I know,” Cin smiled. “Some day, perhaps you’ll earn that rest of me.”
“Cheeky!” the prince protested. He followed Cin out of the dovecote and down the towers steps, laughing as they went. “You want me and yet you deny us both! How cruel is that?”
The prince’s watch-person stepped to the side as Cin reached the bottom of the tower, and he tried to ignore them as they moved back down the hallway to give Cin and the prince their space. He pecked Prince Lorenz on the lips. “Perhaps I want you to work for it.”
“What kind of work is this?” The prince snorted. He grabbed Cin playfully, kissing his head and neck, and teased, “Usually, I need only ask for things and they’re brought to me!”
Through the tall windows along the hallway, Cin could see Emma and Manfred pulling away in their carriage. As much as it hurt to let go, Cin slipped free of Prince Lorenz’s embrace. He waggled his eyebrows. “You might just have to come get this one.”
The prince’s smug grin grew, and he reached for Cin again, but Cin was ready. He twisted beneath the prince’s searching grip and strode across the hall. Throwing open the nearest of the tall windows, he clutched its pane as the glass swung out like a door. He dropped his feet down to the stone wall beneath, holding his breath to see whether the magic in his new elvish shoes would truly support him. His boots held him despite the lack of footholds, and he reveled in their stability as he clung to the wall outside the window, half his body still inside the building’s threshold.
Cin smiled, a thrill running through him. He would have Prince Lorenz’s lips again—his tongue, his hands, and more perhaps. “Find me next week, and you can claim me then.”
