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“We are.” Henry said, a twinkle in his eye. “This is called fantasy.”
“Oh, my God.”
Henry buried his head in Cameron’s neck and nuzzled, making Cameron laugh hard. “It’s your turn. How will you pay me back?”
“Who visited a haunted mansion atop a hill in the middle of the forest, where a charismatic prince was being held hostage by his own father, the king.”
“Coming to rescue me, are you? Because you know what happens after, right?”
“They marry and discover they probably should have spent more time in one another’s company first?”
Henry laughed, and pinned Cameron’s hands to the bed. Strong fingers slithered between his. Cameron felt the squeeze echo in his thighs.
“He came by way of the window, but was discovered by the king, who sealed all exits, leaving Cameron trapped with the prince in his room.”
“How are we going to get out of this, Henry? We’re stuck!”
“I don’t know. Your turn.”
“The room was large but bare, only one trunk and a four-poster bed.”
Henry raised a brow. “I see what you did there.” He affected his voice for the story. “Cameron spied the prince lying on the bed, counting the grooves on his tiled ceiling.”
“He looked frustrated. Without looking over, he knew Cameron approached, and said, ‘Probably should have come here with a better plan.’”
“He paused, checking out Cameron from his cute glasses to the purposeful way he palmed his hips, and continued, ‘But maybe it doesn’t hurt to be stuck here another night.’”
Bold eyes raked over him, eliciting a toe-curling shiver. Cameron laughed into it, feeling it spread through him. “‘I’d be happier joining you once I’ve figured out how to get us out of here,’ Cameron told him.”
Henry nibbled kisses along his jaw. “‘I like a practical man,’ the prince said, and swung himself out of bed. ‘How can I help?’”
“If this mansion is haunted, perhaps we can ask the ghosts to help us?” Cameron groaned the last words as Henry’s lips met the tender spot under his ear.
Pebbled kisses trailed down the curve of his neck. “The only ghosts here are the ones of our past.”
“What do they say to you?”
“That love is the key to everything.”
Henry rucked up Cameron’s T-shirt, tickling his stomach. Cameron arched and lifted, helping him peel it off. His glasses came off too, and they laughed as Cameron hesitated to leave them off.
“Keep them on then,” Henry murmured.
Cameron settled them on his nose and tugged at Henry’s shirt questioningly.
“Absolutely.” Henry grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off. Cameron breathed deeply, the mix of their scents filling his nose.
His breath hitched at the press of Henry’s chest, curly hairs catching with his own, their flat stomachs bumping softly.
“Are you telling me the ghosts are spouting corny sayings like love will set us free?”
“Yes, I believe I am.”
“Not exactly a physical key, though, is it?”
“The prince dropped back against his bed, despairing, because all he wanted was to get out of his room, make his father see his mistake, and learn everything about his rescuer.”
Henry’s fingers explored his nipples, pinching them. Cameron arched and wriggled at Henry’s stubble-roughened chin tracking down his stomach.
“What happens next?” Henry murmured at his belly button.
“Cameron perched on the bed, next to the prince, wanting to figure out how to free them, but feeling mightily distracted.”
“I like that,” Henry said, kissing above the waistline of his boxers.
Cameron moaned. “I like that, too.”
Henry chuckled, hot breath fanning over Cameron’s skin. “Shall we continue?”
Cameron knew instinctively he wasn’t solely referring to the story. He fingered Henry’s locks. “Yes please, to its happy end.”
Bubbled laughter seeped into the thin cotton of his boxers against his achingly hard shaft. “The prince noticed Cameron’s lingering looks and, feeling emboldened by them, asked if there was something he wanted.”
“‘If love is the key,’ Cameron mused aloud, gaze roaming the prince from quirking grin to his . . . obvious show of interest, ‘we need to make it physical.’”
Henry breathed deeply against his balls. “How do you propose we do that?”
Cameron pushed up on his elbows, and Henry’s eyes flickered up to his as he suckled him sensually through the material. Oh, God, so sexy.
His cock strained toward Henry, begging for more. Henry’s pressed insistently against his inner calf. He wanted to feel it against his skin. “We undress all the way, both of us.”
Henry’s fingers dipped into his waistband and he carefully pulled the material over him, pausing to bury his face in his pubes, cheek at his shaft. “You’re terribly cute.”
He drew Cameron’s underwear down his thighs, standing at the side of the bed to pull them all the way off. Henry admired him, and Cameron flushed under the attention, hand flying to the base of his cock, almost protectively.
“Stroke yourself.”
Cameron heeded Henry’s croaked request, slowly pulling on his swollen cock.
In a rush, Henry shoved his boxers off and stomped out of them. His cock bobbed free, fat and veiny, and glistening at the tip. He crawled over Cameron and a million nerve-endings fired. Henry lowered himself onto him, sweeping him into a passionate kiss, hard and then soft. His tongue pushed into his mouth, and erotic images of his cock doing that too blasted in Cameron’s brain.
