“Fuck, you’re such an ass,” Seyn said before yanking Ksar’s head down and kissing him wetly.
Ksar kissed back without hesitation, his hand burying in Seyn’s hair and holding him still as he devoured his mouth. Fucking hell, he tasted so sweet.
Moaning, Seyn pushed his tongue into Ksar’s mouth and all but climbed him. Ksar’s hands slipped down to grab Seyn’s buttocks, pulling their hips flush—
“Your Highness?” Borg’gorn said.
With a muffled curse, Ksar tore his mouth away and stared at Seyn’s flushed face. “Stay here,” he said tersely, dropping his hands with some difficulty. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Seyn nodded, looking dazed and hungry—for him.
“Your Highness, you’re very late.”
Ksar turned swiftly and strode out of the room.
If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t leave at all.
Chapter 23
Later, Seyn would be mortified to realize it, but he’d spent at least half an hour after Ksar left hugging the pillow and thinking about Ksar in a way that could be described as “dreamily.” He also might or might not have been breathing in Ksar’s scent on the pillow, but that was something he would never admit to anyone, even to himself.
“Ugh,” he groaned into the pillow, disgusted with himself. Did he seriously intend to stay in Ksar’s bed and wait for him to come home like a…like a good little husband? It was beyond ridiculous. It was insane. No matter how good the sex was, it didn’t change anything. It shouldn’t change anything. Ksar was nothing to him. A few ill-advised fucks and illicit merges wouldn’t change that. Ksar was engaged to Leylen.
“Not to mention that you hate him,” Seyn said, hoping that saying it aloud would drive the point home. Since when did he need to remind himself that he hated Ksar? It was one of the indisputable facts of life: his name was Seyn’ngh’veighli, he was a prince of the Third Grand Clan, and he hated Ksar.
But did he, really?
Seyn frowned, pursing his lips. It felt weird to question something that shouldn’t even be questioned, but…Did he really hate Ksar anymore? Or was it just a force of habit at this point? He certainly didn’t hate kissing him or touching him—or even talking to him. Ksar still drove him crazy, but the difference was, half of the time Seyn wasn’t sure whether he wanted to punch him in his arrogant face or shove his tongue down his throat.
The fact that he was no longer sure that he hated Ksar was pretty disturbing in itself. How could he not hate him? Ksar was an asshole. He was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad person with a very questionable moral compass. Now that Seyn knew the full extent of Ksar’s horribleness, he should absolutely despise him. He shouldn’t want to have anything to do with him. And he most certainly shouldn’t be waiting for Ksar’s return in Ksar’s bed, naked and eager to pick up where they had left off.
Fuck, he had really lost his mind. After years of wanting to be free of Ksar, how could he want this? He could no longer even blame his constant horniness anymore; he felt perfectly in control of his senses and his libido—unless he and Ksar were in the same room, and then he seemed to lose all control of his higher brain functions.
Ugh. This was horrible.
Maybe he should try to fuck someone else.
Seyn’s brows furrowed at the thought. Somehow, he couldn’t even imagine doing it—and that was pretty damn alarming, actually.
“Do you think I should sleep with someone else?” was the first thing Seyn said the moment Ksar returned.
Ksar paused in the doorway, still dressed in his official Ministry colors. He looked mouth-wateringly good, but Seyn was determined to ignore it. He’d spent the last hour pacing Ksar’s rooms, getting more disturbed the longer he analyzed his feelings and thoughts. It had soon become obvious that he had no desire whatsoever to have sex with someone else—that he felt vaguely disgusted by the mere idea—and the implications of this were terrifying. Something needed to be done. He had to stop this. He needed to stop being an idiot and get over his fixation on a man he’d hated all his life.
“Pardon?” Ksar said, his eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze swept over Seyn with something like displeasure, as if he’d actually expected to find Seyn still naked.
“I think I should stop sleeping with you and fuck someone else,” Seyn said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Although Ksar’s face was impassive, Seyn could feel a strong emotion coming off him, something toxic and ugly. It was a most peculiar thing. It seemed the merges they’d done had made him more attuned to Ksar’s emotions—that or Ksar didn’t keep his shields as perfectly impenetrable as he used to in his presence. Seyn wasn’t sure which option unsettled him more.