He was beautiful to look at. Cormal supposed he’d been pretty back when he was sixteen, but Cormal honestly hadn’t thought about it back then. He was the sixteen-year-old prince, and Cormal haddefinitelybeen hung up on someone else. That attempted kiss had thrown him completely.
Now, Cormal felt like he actually knew Kinan as a person, as a man. His chest was broader, his thighs thicker, and his face without any of the lingering roundness of childhood. He was fully an adult, and it showed everywhere.
Of course, that still didn’t mean Cormal should be doing this with the heir to the throne. He wasn’t altogether certainhowyou counted years where almost no one else knew you existed—only Kinan had clearly lived every moment of them, and that was inhis eyes and his outlook on life as well as the mysterious growth of the body no one else could touch.
He wondered how you acquired muscle definition when you couldn’t touch anything. It had happened somehow. Was it like the shirt, and Kinan had just imagined it being there? Had he done the world’s greatest number of sit-ups and push-ups and other bodyweight exercises? Did an intangible body even work like that?
But it wasn’t intangible to Kinan; Cormal could see that very clearly, because the nipple that he’d touched was furled into a tight nub, his fingers now splayed over that beautiful pectoral muscle. It might not be as defined as Cormal’s, but it was perfect.
“Suck your fingers.”
Cormal hadn’t even known the words were going to come out of his mouth, but there they were, stretched taut between them until Kinan, without ever breaking eye contact, raised his hand to his mouth and sucked two of his fingers inside. Cormal nearly squirmed in his seat at the sight.
“That’s so good,” Cormal told him roughly. “You look so good like that. Now rub those fingers along your other nipple. Tell me what that feels like.”
Kinan released the fingers with a pop of sound that was incredibly loud in the quiet room, where it was just them and the fire in the hearth. But he didn’t drop his gaze, and he did exactly what Cormal told him to do, brushing those wet fingers across his nipple.
He whimpered, and Cormal reached down to press the heel of his hand to his cock. Kinan’s eyes fell down Cormal’s body and then snapped up to stare at him again. He bit his lip, but he didn’t stop, still rubbing his nipple, his chest starting to lift and fall faster as his breathing picked up.
“It feels wet,” Kinan gasped out. “Shivery. It feels good.”
“It looks so good. Why don’t you follow that pretty trail I can see down your body.”
Kinan did that, fingers trembling visibly, but he never once hesitated. Cormal watched avidly as he saw the muscles tense and quiver visibly.
“Unfasten your trousers,” Cormal instructed.
His voice had dropped to a gravelly whisper, but Kinan clearly heard him, and he didn’t hesitate, even if his fingers fumbled a little. He unfastened his trousers, and then without prompting, he pulled out his cock.
It was beautiful: not too long, just the right thickness, and it made Cormal lick his lips. Kinan let out a strangled sound, and Cormal looked back up at his face to find that he was gazing at Cormal with helpless hunger, eyes glittering, his breathing hard.
“Wrap your hands around your cock,” Cormal told him. “Show me what you like.”
“I like this,” Kinan gasped out, even as he obeyed.
Cormal liked this, too. Cormal liked this better than anything he’d ever done, even if he’d never imagined anything like it before.
Kinan’s fingers still had a fine tremble in them. His cock was straining so hard it looked almost painful, but his hand was still, just waiting for the next instruction.
“Rub your fingers over the head. I want you to smear that pre-come all over, get yourself nice and slick.”
Kinan let out a groan and did exactly as he was told, fingers soon messy, his whole body arching into the movement.
“Oh!” he said, like it was a revelation.
“That’s right,” Cormal told him. “Just like that. I want you to get it all over your shaft. Really spread it around.”
Kinan obeyed, pumping his cock, swiping the flat of his hand over the head and then working the shaft up and down, his hips trying to flex into the movement.
“Does that feel good?” Cormal asked.
“So good,” Kinan managed to gasp, sounding breathless.
“Are you imagining it’s my hand?” Cormal wanted to know. “Imagining that it’s me touching you, my hand flying over your cock, making you feel good?”
Kinan’s gray gaze was still locked on his, and his nod was frantic as he stripped his cock. “Yes, yes, you make me feel so good.”
“That’s right,” Cormal whispered. “I’d let you fuck my hand. I’d hold you just right until you were thrusting up into me, and—”
