Kazia can’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Because Lucien draws him down and kisses him again.
Lucien’s every movement is confident, certain, gentle. Heat courses through Kazia’s body, so good it almost hurts, yet the complete opposite of pain. His cock fills in his trousers with each press of Lucien’s tongue.
Kazia hadn’t realized how terrible he was at kissing until Lucien demonstrated the possibilities. The sensation is unbearable, but Kazia wants more and more. The tender kisses drive every thought from his head—except one.
“Why did you stay?” Kazia asks.
Lucien’s lips are wet. His eyes burn blue as flame. “I have so many good, sensible reasons. There’s a war I want to stop and a king I want to kill.” Lucien touches Kazia’s lips, and a small smile warms his face. “But the truth is, I like taking care of you.”
“Wow,” Kazia breathes, his entire soul soaring. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Lucien’s grid widens. “I feel pretty fucking smart right now.” His hands wander up Kazia’s thighs and settle behind his ass.Lucien looks at him, waiting for permission, like he’s trying to read Kazia’s reaction.
Kazia only squirms. Every touch is almost too much, and it’s the best thing ever. When Lucien kisses his throat above the collar, Kazia can’t bite back his moan. The sensation is almost ticklish but perfect, and he rocks into Lucien’s lap.
Lucien groans against Kazia’s neck. He’s just as hard beneath Kazia.
For a moment, they simply breathe together, cheek to cheek. As if Lucien is overwhelmed, too.
“Is this too much?” Lucien asks.
Kazia attempts confidence. “Too much? You’re hardly doing anything.”
Lucien chuckles. “I could do more. What are you thinking about?”
Kazia is thinking about Lucien’s cock.
Every fantasy he’s ever had twists together. A dream of being overwhelmed with pleasure from the inside out until there’s no space left in him for pain and fear. But that’s too dangerous. He can’t let Lucien hurt him.
Lucien sighs. “Sorry,” he says, like he’s about to stop touching Kazia.
They can’t stop. Kazia has exposed too much of himself, and he can’t retreat now. Kazia straightens up in Lucien’s lap and says, “You said you were good with your hands. Or was that just talk?”
“One way to find out.” Lucien shifts his grip on Kazia’s ass. “Actually, there are several ways.”
Kazia flushes, his mind racing. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe Lucien wants this too—yet somehowthere’s no doubt in his mind that Lucien does want this. Lucien wants him. Even though Kazia is rude and vicious and weak.
This is a mistake. Anything Kazia wants is something he can lose. But, fuck. Kazia’s entire life has been a razor-sharp maze of danger and pain. For once, he wants to take the risk that feels good.
“Only if you want to,” Kazia says. Not because he has doubts. He just wants to hear Lucien say—
“You would not believe how much I want to.” Lucien reaches between them, his gaze burning as he cups Kazia through his trousers.
Kazia’s nerves sing at a fever pitch. Friction and heat have never felt so good. This is nothing like touching himself. Nothing like anything he’s ever felt.
His breath quickens, but Lucien isn’t in a hurry. He traces Kazia’s cock through the fabric, his attention reaching even deeper than his fingers. Kazia rocks into Lucien’s grip. He’s controlled by need and instinct, not fear.
Lucien’s thumb finds the head of Kazia’s cock, teasing out a pulse of precome. Pleasure and urgency tighten Kazia’s nerves. He needs to slow down, or this is going to be over too soon.
But all he can say is, “Lucien.”
And it’s too late. Muffling his moan against Lucien’s shoulder, Kazia shudders in Lucien’s hand. Pleasure burns through him, incinerating every thought. Every memory of pain.
Lucien’s lips press against his hair. “Fuck, Kazia. That was so fucking hot.”
The words drag Kazia back to awareness—and humiliation. He just came in his trousers like a fucking virgin. Never mind that he is a virgin. This is not how it was supposed to go.
Kazia hides his face against Lucien’s shoulder and mumbles, “Don’t mock me.”
