A Swithin Spin: A Princely Passion (22 page)

Raising a hand, Antal brushed Kilan’s hair to one side, looping it behind an ear, loving the sweep of it as it refused to stay in place and swung forward. He loved the uncertain look in Kilan’s eyes only a touch more. He adored the fear that wasn’t quite terror in the other man’s expression. “Trust me, Kilan,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.” He wasn’t as experienced as some in the art of semaris, but the few times he’d participated, it seemed to come naturally to him, and never had it come more naturally than this. Something in Kilan just begged Antal to take charge of him. He knew just how to begin.

“Remove your clothes, Kilan.”

Caring for nudity only by appreciation, even so, Antal would remain dressed for now. He had chosen a robe so he could allow easy access to his body without having to strip completely. By commanding Kilan to undress, he reinforced the idea in Kilan’s mind that he obeyed an order. Antal could have chosen to remove Kilan’s clothes, but that would be more of a seduction, something he instinctively felt wasn’t what either he or Kilan wanted right now. They’d have time for gentleness another day if they commenced a relationship.

Tonight was about setting up the parameters of that relationship, and that meant Antal in charge and Kilan accepting his orders. He wanted Kilan to undress willingly. He wanted Kilan naked while he remained covered. He wanted Kilan at a disadvantage. The thought made his heart race. He would like to have considered it just sex. If they still liked each other and wanted more come morning, Antal knew his life was going to get even more complicated. As strong as Kilan was, even if he didn’t know it, he was also delicate when it came to his feelings. Antal faced the responsibility of protecting Kilan’s heart. He didn’t want to hurt the young prince; Kilan didn’t deserve that. He just wanted to hurt him
enough
so they could both enjoy it. He’d take the prince’s enjoyment as much into consideration as his own.

The prince had spoken correctly when he’d said Antal wasn’t like this. He seldom behaved like this,
wanted
this, and yet Kilan… To think not so long ago he’d been moody and surly because of having to give so many orders, and the one way he could relax was to seemingly give orders in his time off.

How could one explain desire? How could one explain recognizing a mutual need? How lucky were you to find someone with which to satisfy such a need, and at what moment did you realize you were in love? Antal had none of the answers, only the knowledge of what he wanted and that what he wanted, they both would enjoy.

Kilan hadn’t moved. “I said undress…and do it slowly.”

Had a man ever fainted just from removing his clothes? Of course, that alone wouldn’t set his heart palpitating. What did was the idea that Antal watched his every move, smiled his approval -- smiles that made Kilan’s insides quiver -- and corrected him when he did something not to his liking. He couldn’t account for the fact that pleasing Antal, seeing that smile appear, pleased him in turn. Even so, he felt awkward undressing even though it shouldn’t feel this difficult to get naked.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” He winced. “Sorry. I guess I should have asked…”
Should have asked if I could speak
. The idea struck him as foolish, but somehow not foolish at all. There existed a side to this that unnerved him; it was
supposed
to unnerve him.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t speak. I’ll tell you if I want you silent.”

He wanted to laugh, but he took Antal at his word.

“You’re hiding yourself.”

He saw no use in denying the accusation. He stood there naked yet held on to his clothes, the front of his body turned away.

“Let go, Kilan,” Antal said, and he didn’t think Antal just meant his clothing. “Drop your clothes. No. Fold them, and then face me. I want to ask you something.”

Dropping his clothes felt difficult enough. Going through the seemingly meticulous process of folding them and placing them on a chair he found undeniably intimidating. He fumbled with the garments, feeling Antal’s gaze following his every action as if he was judging him. Did Antal’s guards feel this way when undergoing inspection? He wanted to giggle, but that way led to hysteria.

When he turned back to face Antal, he couldn’t bring his head up. He couldn’t stand to see that persistent gaze. Fighting to keep his hands at his sides and to stand there in nothing but a collar took all his strength. He wasn’t capable of anything more.

“Tell me, Kilan…” Antal began but then paused, pacing, until Kilan clenched his teeth together to stop from crying out for him to just get on with it and ask his damn question. As if he knew Kilan’s thoughts, Antal came to an abrupt halt, then tilted his head, looking at Kilan sideways. “I take it you’ve never had a man in your mouth,” he said.

Chapter Thirteen

As gently as Antal had worded that, making it a statement rather than a question, still it echoed over and over in Kilan’s brain.

“Kilan, look at me.”

If silence was the answer he wanted, then Antal had it. If he wanted Kilan to use his voice, he wasn’t sure he could. Shock jolted him, not that Antal would ask but because he felt equally excited as he was afraid, or maybe because he felt as afraid as he was excited; he couldn’t tell which. Everything seemed so confusing, and yet he even enjoyed the turmoil in some perverse way.

“Kilan. Look at me. Listen to me. Slow down your breathing.”

Finally, the anxiety in Antal’s voice broke through. Antal was right. He needed to calm down. He’d hyperventilate. He tried to take a better, clearer breath and failed. His breathing hitched, and for a second there he couldn’t get any air. Kilan shook his head, scared.

“Na…” That wasn’t a word. He didn’t even know what he’d intended to say. Antal reached out and touched him, his fingertips gently caressing the sides of his face.

“Breathe, Kilan. With me.” Antal waited for his attention and then visibly took a slow, deep breath. Kilan tried to copy the action, and slowly his breathing eased. It took him a few failed attempts to match his breathing to that of the other man’s, but finally his panic lessened. Leaning in, Antal tilted his head for a kiss. Kilan accepted the peace offering. When he broke the kiss, Antal pressed their foreheads together.

“Semaris doesn’t mean force. You know that.”

He did. He just wasn’t sure the line hadn’t blurred in his thinking. Antal searched his gaze.

“Kilan, I can’t make out if you truly want this or not.”

That made two of them. “If I say that I do and I don’t, does that make sense?”

The concern on Antal’s face diminished. “Perfect sense.”

I’m glad it makes sense to someone
. Antal still watched his face.

“I could ask if you want to continue, but I don’t think you want me to ask, do you?”

It took Kilan a moment to work his way through what felt like a verbal maze, and then he shook his head.

“What do you want, Kilan?”

The way Antal kept using his name began to irritate, yet he felt sure Antal did it for a reason. Every time he heard his name on Antal’s lips, it felt as if a small piece of him fractured inside. He shook his head more forcefully.
Please don’t ask me
. He didn’t want to admit to what he felt. That was precisely why Antal inquired. Antal’s grip tightened, the ensuing pain in Kilan’s jaw breaking through his confusion even as Antal repeated the question. Pain could be part of semaris, but the reason for this grip was insistence.

Call the comet.

His instinct called to him even though he had no such intention, even as he opened his mouth to respond. It felt as if Antal’s grip wrenched the words out of him. “I want to do…what you want me to do. I want to do…what pleases you.” He glanced into Antal’s eyes, smarting from that bright gaze. “I want this,” he whispered. Somehow the whisper contained more force than a shout would have. It made his words sound more honest. He was telling Antal the truth, and he had to make Antal know it even though the confession frightened him so. “I want this…with you.”

Closing his eyes, Antal savored the moment of victory. Despite his instincts telling him he’d read the situation correctly, Antal hadn’t felt entirely certain. Kilan seemed so nervous, looked so innocent that the line of power had shifted. Although he was leading more than he should have for a first session, he didn’t want Kilan to forget he had a choice. Now he had the answer he needed. Still, he wanted to make Kilan aware of exactly what would happen here tonight. He stepped closer, fingering the length of Kilan’s hair, threading his fingers through it. He teased the edge of Kilan’s mouth with his lips, never once giving Kilan the kiss he so obviously longed for.

“I want to be the first man you taste,” Antal whispered.

Kilan replied with a whimper. It took all Antal’s strength of character not to grab Kilan there and then, crush the other man against him, assault his mouth first with his tongue and then with his cock. In time he would do both, but not in that order. “On your knees,” he demanded, and Kilan dropped to his knees as though his legs could no longer support him.

“You realize what’s going to happen?”

It took Kilan a moment to understand the question. Despite the fact that Antal was undeniably in charge, even now Antal checked that things were fine with him. Even in his confused state, Kilan realized Antal carefully worded his question so as not to offer Kilan a choice but to check that he remained aware of what was happening. Silence was Kilan’s way of saying yes: yes, he knew what was going to happen; yes, he was willing to do what Antal wanted.

Looking up, Kilan took in the vision of Antal standing before him. The robe gaped, revealing a hint of tanned flesh that made Kilan bite his lip. He waited, waited for Antal to throw off the robe, take hold of his cock, and force it between his lips. He even wanted him to, but he should have known Antal wouldn’t make it so easy for him.

“Open my robe,” Antal told him. With shaky hands, Kilan reached out. The fabric felt coarser than he’d expected, but for some reason the rough fabric thrilled him. He pushed the two sides apart, and finally Antal helped him, flinging the robe open and back so that the garment still hung on him but displayed his body. Unable to help it, Kilan looked all the way up to Antal’s face. That sharp gaze stared down at him, a burning center framed by the opulence of Antal’s hair and the copper flare of the robe. The colors tumbled, built on each other. Did Antal realize how devastating he was to look upon? Did he know what effect the robe’s color would have, that it would make the vision of his hair stunning, the color of his eyes so striking? He had to. No way had Antal chosen that robe without a good reason. He’d dressed to make Kilan want him, and the very idea turned Kilan’s lust over into something he could only call love. Antal had done this…for him. Antal wanted him. Kilan was liked well enough and loved by his brother and some of his friends, but none but his brother had taken him seriously…until…Antal. For the first time ever, Kilan found a responsibility that he could face, the responsibility of what both of them were feeling.

“Kiss me,” Antal instructed, and he didn’t mean his mouth. Swallowing, Kilan blinked, his gaze lowering. Trembling inside, Kilan pursed his lips, leaning forward, closing his eyes. He kissed gently, pushing out his tongue even as his fear catapulted skyward, even as he rejoiced. “Not so tentative,” Antal said a moment later. “I don’t want you shy. I don’t want you hesitant.”

This time tears of frustration threatened Kilan’s resolve. He was sure one trickled out, and a moment later it slid down the side of his face. Did Antal see? Did it please him? Excite him? He shouldn’t want that, but he did. He wanted that tear to affect Antal even as he fought his fear. Why did he feel so frightened? How could that be when he wanted this? An apology lay on his tongue, but that wasn’t what Antal wanted. Antal wanted his cock on his tongue. Kilan opened his mouth, and not allowing himself time to think, he engulfed him.

Everything about the invasion felt unnatural and yet wholly right. He had a hot cock in his equally hot mouth, and at least one part of him enjoyed it. The part of him that still felt a little afraid understood that this wasn’t to be a calm awakening. Antal meant to push him the same way he now pushed a little with his hips. Kilan had no time to get used to this, to explore, to learn, to fully enjoy. Not in this instance. This was Antal setting the rules, seeking to discover if Kilan could live by those rules, accept them. His mind doubted, but his body responded in other ways, and as his cock rose, so did the comet. It wasn’t as if Kilan failed to get the message, but the comet answered on Antal’s behalf even if Kilan’s intellect refused to fully acquiesce. Antal wanted his throat. Kilan tried to take him down, gagging. Unfortunately, rather than a deterrent, both the comet and Antal appeared to appreciate the sounds he made.

“Lower your hands,” Antal instructed, and Kilan hesitated only a moment. Antal placed a hand at the back of his head, held him fast. Kilan took a deep breath, knowing what to expect, trying to adjust. He couldn’t, not really. He had no previous experience. Even so, Antal pushed forward, forcing his cock down Kilan’s willing throat.

The reverberation of someone retching shouldn’t sound so delightful, but --
the comet help him
-- it did. The retch was nothing. Antal could tell, and he would have pulled back if he believed Kilan needed or wanted him to do so. As much as Kilan struggled, his movements were eager. Antal closed his eyes for a moment only. The sight of Kilan on his knees fighting to let Antal push into his throat was just too adorable a vision to look away from for more than a moment. Tears leaked from the corners of Kilan’s eyes, but aside from Antal’s hand on the back of his head, nothing held him in place. Kilan could push Antal away anytime he chose, but although he clenched his hands into fists, he kept his arms resolutely down at his sides. Taking heed of a muffled sound, Antal eased off so the man could breath. Kilan gasped, swallowed, sniffed, wiped at his nose and mouth, blinked tears from his eyes, but then he tilted back his head, expectant, offering, ready to take Antal again, and no way would Antal refuse him. That first moment when Kilan had opened his mouth, when Antal had pushed past his lips, felt the soft pad and heat of Kilan’s tongue, was something that would always be with him. Nothing could exceed that one moment in time; that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the rest.