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“Yeah,” Alex agrees, and he gets Henry’s boxers down.

“Oh,God,” Henry repeats, this time with feeling.

It’s all still so new to Alex, but it’s not difficult to follow through on what’s been playing out in elaborate detail in his head for the past hour. When he looks up, Henry’s face is flushed and transfixed, his lips parted. It almost hurts to look at him—the athlete’s focus, all the dressings of aristocracy laid wide open for him. He’s watching Alex, eyes blown dark and hazy, and Alex is watching him right back, every nerve in both bodies narrowed down to a single point.

It’s fast and dirty and Henry is swearing up a storm, which is still disarmingly sexy, but this time it’s punctuated by the occasional word of praise, and somehow that’s even hotter. Alex isn’t prepared for the way “that’s good” sounds in Henry’s rounded Buckingham vowels, or for how luxury leather feels when it strokes approvingly down his cheek, a gloved thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.

As soon as Henry’s finished, he’s got Alex on the bench and is putting his kneepads to use.

“I’m still fucking mad at you,” Alex says, destroyed, slumped forward with his forehead resting on Henry’s shoulder.

“Of course you are,” Henry says vaguely.

Alex completely undermines his point by pulling Henry into a deep and lingering kiss, and another, and they kiss for an amount of time he decides not to count or think about.

They sneak out quietly, and Henry touches Alex’s shoulder at the gate near where his SUV waits, presses his palm into the wool of his coat and the knot of muscle.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be anywhere near Kensington anytime soon?”

“That shithole?” he says with a wink. “Not if I can help it.”

“Oi,” Henry says. He’s grinning now. “That’s disrespect ofthe crown, that is. Insubordination. I’ve thrown men in the dungeons for less.”

Alex turns, walking backward toward the car, hands in the air. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Paris?

A                3/3/20 7:32 PM

to Henry

His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Whatever,

Don’t make me learn your actual title.

Are you going to be at the Paris fund-raiser for rainforest conservation this weekend?

Alex

First Son of Your Former Colony

Re: Paris?

Henry                3/4/20 2:14 AM

to A

Alex, First Son of Off-Brand England:

First, you should know how terribly inappropriate it is for you to intentionally botch my title. I could have you made into aroyal settee cushion for that kind of lèse-majesté. Fortunately for you, I do not think you would complement my sitting room decor.

Secondly, no, I will not be attending the Paris fund-raiser; I have a previous engagement. You shall have to find someone else to accost in a cloakroom.

Regards,

His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales

Re: Paris?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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