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295 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 20, 2018
“Then why are you clinging to me if you hate me?” Ksar said, his tone amicable and lazy. Seyn scowled. “Shut up, I’m not,” he said, lifting his chin. His arms and legs might be wrapped around Ksar, but it absolutely didn’t mean he was clinging to him. He simply didn’t feel like letting go.
"Just say no," Ksar said, leaning in to nibble at Seyn's earlobe. He felt Seyn's shudder.
"I hate you," Seyn whispered shakily.
"You can hate me all you want. We don't have to like each other to fuck."
⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱*Had expected more*⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱
That was why Seyn stared curiously at the tall man making his way through the crowd, drawing stares from all over the ballroom. Ksar was dressed formally, in gray and black colors of the Second Royal House, his white cravat the only bright touch. Ksar’s long, midnight blue hair was tied back, drawing one’s gaze to his sharp jaw and austere, handsome features. He looked more mature than his twenty-two years.
For the first time, Seyn wondered if those rumors about Ksar’s parents genetically engineering him were true. Although genetic engineering was frowned upon, it wasn’t forbidden. Ksar definitely seemed too…perfect. It wasn’t his physical appearance. Ksar wasn’t as startlingly handsome as Jamil, but he had something Seyn’s brother didn’t: the air of quiet authority and the calm, kingly dignity. Despite the fact that there were no fewer than four kings and three queens present, it seemed as though he was the king—which should have been ridiculous.
And yet…
(.....)
Shaking off his self-consciousness, Seyn straightened himself to his full height. He might be just fourteen, but he was Prince Seyn’ngh’veighli of the Third Grand Clan, not some farmer’s kid.
“If you break my bond, I’ll put your…thing in my mouth,” Seyn said, figuring straightforwardness was the best approach.
Ksar stared at him.
And then…and then he threw his head back and laughed, a full belly laugh that Seyn had not thought Ksar capable of.
Seyn scowled, his face warming. Did he say something funny?
“My thing,” Ksar said at last, smirking in that condescending, arrogant way that never failed to make Seyn want to scream and punch him in the face.
Ksar gave him a dismissive look. “I don’t put ‘my thing’ into little boys’ mouths. I like men who know how to suck cock.”
“One’s capacity for love wasn’t limited.”
“I’m afraid of no such thing.”
“Liar,” Seyn said softly. He leaned in and gave the tip of the cock a kittenish lick. Ksar’s breath hitched, and Seyn felt another rush of foreign pleasure. “I can feel it, you know. I’m a good empath. You like this. You like seeing me on my knees for you. And you like this…”
He whined, pushing back onto Ksar’s cock. He was so full of him, but somehow, it still wasn’t enough. He wanted him deeper. He wanted more. “Ksar? Can we— you know?”
“That would be highly inadvisable,” Ksar gritted out, snapping his hips forward.
Seyn opened his eyes blearily. Ksar looked as drunk on pleasure as he felt.
“So? None of what we’re doing is advisable,” Seyn said. “Get in me. Wanna feel you from the inside.”
He’d had sex with telepaths before and he’d never let his shields down even a little, but he’d allowed Seyn to feel what he was feeling multiple times. It was inevitable that it would backlash. Now Seyn wanted— needed—telepathic connection on top of the physical one.
“I barely touched you, but you’re hard already. All hard and eager for me.”
“You can suck my cock every day and it won’t change anything,” Ksar’s scathing voice said in his head.
Seyn smiled, undoing Ksar’s fly. “Every day, huh?”
Ksar’s gaze darkened. “Don’t anger me,” he said flatly. “You don’t want to anger me. Now get up. You look like a cheap whore.”
“I don’t like your attitude ,” Ksar said.
“I don’t like your face, so we’re even.”
“I can’t believe I want to fuck such a childish thing,” Ksar muttered under his breath.
“I can’t believe I want to fuck a sick bastard like you,” Seyn said. “So let’s just do it and forget this ever happened.”
“You feel so good in me,” he said without thinking. Immediately, he almost cringed. What the hell? Who even said that?
But Ksar didn’t mock him. He stared down at him intently, his gaze dark and feverish. “Do I?”
“You feel good in me,” he said again, holding Ksar’s gaze. “Your cock. You.”
Ksar’s nostrils flared, his eyes wide open and unblinking, his pupils dilated. Leaning down, he kissed Seyn hard.
“Get your hands off me,” Seyn bit off shakily.
“I will,” Ksar said, their mouths so close he could feel Seyn’s unsteady breaths on his lips. Fuck. He wanted to consume him. He wanted to mess Seyn up, pull at his shiny, perfect hair, yank it by the roots, and then rip his clothes. He wanted to get to Seyn’s skin, wanted to fuck him until he screamed, until he was wanton and slutty, until Ksar was so far inside him he couldn’t breathe, until those hateful green eyes were wide open and blind to everything except him.
Ksar said hoarsely, “If you say it like you actually mean it.”
“Come on,” Seyn demanded, digging his heels into his back. “Pleasure me. Harder.”
Ksar felt such a violent instinct to please him that the unfamiliar feeling made him freeze. He stared at the naked young man under him and reminded himself he was no slave to his body. “ I will,” he bit out. “At my own pace.”