He felt Ksar exhale unsteadily against his cheek. “We really shouldn’t. This is dangerous. Not to mention completely pointless.”
Seyn’s stomach dropped.
He gave a clipped nod.
Ksar pulled back a little to look him in the eye. His expression became somewhat pinched. “Damn you,” he said and kissed him, long and endlessly hungry, his mind slipping back into Seyn’s.
Seyn sighed in bliss and yanked him closer, everything else disappearing once again.
Chapter 22
As a rule, Ksar didn’t sleep with people. He liked sex like any healthy man, but he didn’t share a bed after sex—and he definitely didn’t take anyone to his own bed. He had never even entertained such an idea. Sex was just a base need that had to be satisfied on a regular basis in order not to let sexual frustration affect his judgment. Sex was for discreet off-world brothels where no one knew who he was. Sex had no place in his private rooms, under the roof he shared with the Queen and the King-Consort.
So it was completely inexplicable that he’d woken up that morning to a warm, naked body curled up next to him and the soft snores of another person.
Ksar eyed Seyn’s sleeping form, trying to summon irritation and displeasure he should have been feeling.
But there was nothing.
Seyn was snoring softly, his cheek pressed against Ksar’s pillow, his long silver hair spread out all over it like a halo. His normally pale pink lips looked red and swollen after the previous night’s activities, ruining the positively angelic impression he gave in his sleep.
He looked good in Ksar’s bed. Like he belonged in it.
Ksar grimaced at the thought, deeply disturbed by how much his judgment was still compromised despite spending most of the night buried to the hilt in Seyn—in more ways than one.
I guess I trust you.
Seyn’s words rang in his ears, still as discomfiting and viciously satisfying as they had been last night.
Ksar generally wasn’t one to lie to himself. He was well aware he wasn’t at his most rational where Seyn was concerned, had never been. He let him get under his skin far too easily—and as a result, had often been unfairly harsh on him.
But it was now obvious that there was another extreme he hadn’t experienced before: Seyn’s pleasure—and his trust—affected him as strongly as Seyn’s hostile, infuriating behavior. He liked it.
He liked it far too much.
As though feeling his gaze on him, Seyn mumbled something sleepily and shifted a little. The dark sheets slipped lower, revealing to Ksar’s eyes the smooth, strong expanse of Seyn’s back and the dimples above his buttocks.
Ksar wet his dry lips.
This was…perplexing. He’d had four perfectly satisfying orgasms last night. He’d touched and kissed every place on Seyn’s body and had been touched everywhere in return. There was no mystery left. At this point, he knew everything there was to know about Seyn’s body. A man could come only so much in such a short time. He should have been feeling nothing but exhaustion and disinterest. His hands shouldn’t be tingling with the desire to touch and his mouth shouldn’t feel dry. He shouldn’t feel as eager as an adolescent boy, his cock already thickening.
Sighing in exasperation, Ksar gave in. Pushing the silver locks aside, he leaned in and kissed the soft skin at the back of Seyn’s neck. His eyes slipped close as he inhaled deeply.
At least there was no one there to witness his utter lack of self-restraint.
“Ksar,” Seyn muttered.
Ksar went still, his lips still pressed against Seyn’s nape.
He lifted his head. “Yes?”
Seyn didn’t reply, his breathing even once again.
Ksar eyed him. He was still asleep, he realized with a jolt. Seyn was still asleep and he was dreaming of him. Now that he concentrated, he could vaguely feel what Seyn was dreaming about. He was dreaming of having his cock sucked—a perfectly normal, ordinary dream for a healthy young man—except for Seyn the man sucking his cock was none other than Ksar.
Good, something in him said viciously.
Ksar grimaced. These possessive thoughts were getting out of hand. What next? Was he going to piss all over Seyn to make sure the brat smelled of him?
Get a grip, damn you.
“Your Highness?”
Ksar had never heard Borg’gorn sound so awkward.
“Yes?” Ksar said.
“I do not wish to disturb you, but you have a meeting with Councilor Mehur’divani at eight o’clock.”
Frowning, Ksar sat up. “What time is it?”
“Eight-point-thirteen, Your Highness.”
Swearing quietly, Ksar got out of the bed. He’d never been late in his life. It seemed it was a day of firsts.
“What’s happening?”
Stepping onto the shower pad, Ksar looked back toward the bed. Seyn was sitting up, blinking blearily, his green eyes still unfocused, a fetching flush on his cheeks. He was leaning back on his arms, his toned chest and stomach on display.
Ksar wrenched his gaze away and activated the shower with a tap of his fingers. The unpleasant sensation of dry shower was almost welcome, but it did nothing to quell the desire to walk back to the young man in his bed and kiss the sleepy pout off his lips.