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I like beautiful things. Men, women, Aelyds, aliens…it makes little difference to me. And Shayd is exceptionally beautiful, shiny dark skin and standing tall. Even when he tries to remain neutral, I see just how deeply he’s thinking of things from the set of his jaw and the way his eyes sparkle light pink, but only for a split second.
I look up at him from the foot of the bed, staring hard at where he stands by the door. He looks like he’s going to bolt, so I lower my voice to a honeyed croon, drawing him in the same way I have countless others.
“You came,” I observe.
Shayd licks his lips, and I catch another glimpse of that silver piercing in his onyx tongue. I’ve spent more than a few minutes today fantasizing about what that piercing would feel like running up and down my cock—if he takes it in his throat as well as Penn does. Or, I suppose, if he’ll suck me off at all. Most Aelyds are asexual, and I don’t mean to presume.
But he knows what he’s here to do. At the very least, he’s curious.
“I wasn’t needed,” he says softly. There’s something there—something that sounds like anger. But there’s a chance I’m reading too much into it.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask.
He shakes his head, but he stands upright and walks into the room, the door sliding closed behind him. “No,” he says. “I don’t want to wait.”
I stand next to my bed, my breath catching in my throat as he approaches me. I guess when I asked him here I didn’t expect him to be this bold, and I’m usually the one taking charge, even if it’s through more subtle means than Atlas.
“What changed your mind?” I ask him.
“I think it’ll help me sleep,” he replies, a smile on his face, his eyes light green.
I don’t know what it means, but I’m not here to question it. He wets his lips with his long tongue. The way the piercing catches the dim light in my room makes blood rush to my cock as I slide my gaze down his body.
He reaches out, his hand flat against my stomach, right above the waistband of my pants. “You don’t mind if I use you to sleep, do you?” he asks, his voice low, husky.
This is the closest he’s ever come to me and I could look at him for ages. “As long as you don’t mind if I use you,” I say.
“Not at all,” he says. “I’m here to serve.”
He laughs at his own joke, a deep, guttural laugh coming from the back of his throat, and I feel my cock grow harder as his slender fingers tug at the waistband of my pants.
His hand brushes against my hardened cock, very much on purpose. His movements are practiced, slow, deliberate.
I’m a fucking rockstar. I’m not used to people taking their time with me, considering how ravenous it feels like everyone is. Not always for me; I know I’m charming but I know I’m also not the main consideration.
It’s about fucking Keon, the artist. I’m a feather in their cap.
It’s different with Shayd. I know he’s discreet, I know he won’t tell anyone. Family guards never do. They’re incredibly dedicated to their jobs—or at least to look like they’re doing their jobs.
He doesn’t give me much time to think about it because he’s raking his teeth down my pulse, sharp and hard against the fleshy part of my throat. “What do you like, deviant prince?” he asks, his hand reaching into the front of my pants and grasping my cock tightly in place. “I’ve heard so many tales about you, so many gripping stories about the kind of spell you place people under…is any of it true?”
“Yes,” I say when he sets his gaze on mine. “All of it is.”
He smiles at that, his free hand going to the back of my head as he spears his fingers in my hair. He presses his lips against mine, his tongue insistent on my lips. I open my mouth to let him in and we spar inside my mouth, his grip on my hardening cock getting tighter.
His body is flush against mine and I can feel his erection pressing against my stomach. He’s clearly well-endowed, his cock curved, his erection practically bursting through the fabric of his pants.
He bites down on my lower lip—hard, almost hard enough to draw blood—as he takes my cock in his hand and starts to jack me off slowly. He’s good at this, he’s clearly done it a lot. I moan into his mouth as he starts going faster, his hand sending tiny electrical pulses through my cock.
I don’t know if he’s aware he’s doing it, but I’m letting him take charge. For now. “Tell me,” he says. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to break down your walls, Shayd,” I say. “I want to feel how soft and warm you are inside. Is that what you want?”
He smiles, pulling away from me. “It’s been a while,” he says, an accent coming through as he does. I don’t know where he’s from and I doubt he’d tell me even if I asked, but it’s very subtle. It must only come out when he’s excited. He’s usually at such an even keel. He mustn’t let go very often, and I plan to take full advantage of it.
I put my hand on his waist, guiding him so he turns around, my cock lined up to his gorgeous ass. He grinds up against me, his breath catching in his throat as he does, and I reach around to take him in my hand.
His cock is so hard it feels like it’s bursting in my hand. I slide my hand up and down his shaft, moving it over the head of his dick as little bursts of electricity color my hand like an explosion. God, this man…this man is fucking delicious.
