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As soon as his dick was free, Jeremiah’s hand was there once more, cupping the underside of his shaft and holding him in place. “A pretty cock for my pretty prince.”
Remi’s cheeks flushed, and he sank his teeth into his bottom lip, driving his hips forward to move his dick in the light grip.
Jeremiah’s other hand landed on the side of his neck, his thumb pressing into his throat. “Hold still, little princeling.”
“Oh gods…” His eyes just about rolled into the back of his head, and he let himself collapse back against the wall.
“That’s it.” Jeremiah tightened his hold on his dick, giving him a rough squeeze that sent fire down his spine. “Good boy.”
Remi made an embarrassingly high-pitched, needy noise, and Jeremiah’s flaming eyes locked on his, a knowing look on his face. “Jeremiah… please…”
“Shh, let me take care of you,” he rumbled, holding Remi’s gaze and stroking at a steady, mind-bending pace. Every few tugs, he’d rub his callused thumb across his weeping head, causing Remi to jolt and moan.
Pitifully fast, Remi was on the edge of release, half-formed pleas falling from his lips as he clutched at Jeremiah’s massive biceps. Pleasure was clouding his head, and his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to hold off, tried to make it last. He was terrified this would be his only chance with Jeremiah, and he hadn’t even managed to get his hands on anything below his waist. Every time he even loosened his grip on his arms, Jeremiah would rub against that spot just beneath the head of his cock and fry his brain all over again.
Soft lips brushed against his own, and then Jeremiah’s voice was in his ear, rougher and deeper than usual, the hand on the side of his neck sliding over to cover his throat. “Be a good little prince and come for me.”
Gasping, Remi sank his nails into Jeremiah’s burning skin and exploded, every muscle in his body contracting while his ecstasy detonated across his nerve endings. His vision whited out as half-bitten-off sounds fell from his lips, his dick shooting longer and more than he ever had before.
Through it all, Jeremiah kept stroking him, kept telling him how pretty he was and how good he was doing, and kept that firm hold on his neck, his searing palm covering the entire length of his throat.
It was… everything.
Little jolts of pleasure kept going off in his body even as his muscles loosened, and he sagged against the cool, unforgiving wall behind him. Jeremiah’s overwhelming heat pressed all down his front, his huge size blocking out the gym and keeping him safe and steady as he struggled to catch his breath.
His arms were hanging at his sides, no strength left in him. He sucked in a shaky breath at the firm, possessive fingers tucking him back into his pants and then sliding around to his low back. Jeremiah’s chest was moving faster than normal, small tremors cascading down his limbs where they were pressed together.
It took Remi’s blissed-out brain an embarrassingly long time to realize why.
He tipped his head back to try and see Jeremiah’s face, but he was tucked too close, his stubbly jaw rubbing against Remi’s temple with his movements. Slowly, the words taking more focus than usual, he said, “Once I can move my arms again, I’ll return the favor.”
Jeremiah huffed out a breath, ruffling Remi’s hair. “I can wait. Let’s get you upstairs before you pass out standing up.”
He tried to protest—by the gods, he could and would muster the strength to touch Jeremiah’s cock!—but his mouth was having problems forming his argument, his eyes sliding shut even as Jeremiah tugged him away from the wall and wrapped an arm around his back, supporting and guiding him.
“’m not even that tired,” he slurred, almost falling on the steps leading up to their rooms.
Sighing, Jeremiah didn’t bother replying, simply scooping him into his arms and carrying him the rest of the way. Remi thought about fighting it, but his Hellhound was just so warm. He leaned into the heat and moaned, nuzzling into Jeremiah’s shoulder.
The last thing he remembered before finally surrendering to the sleep pulling him under was soft, warm lips pressing against his forehead. “What am I going to do with you, little princeling?”
Remi had a few X-rated ideas.
He’d be sure to share them just as soon as he woke up.
12
SUNSHINE
“Jeez, man, what’d you do to that kid last night?”
Jeremiah jerked his head up from the report he’d been reading—and doing his best not to feel Remi’s phantom fingers clutching at him or hearing his breathy voice in his head begging for release—his fingers heating in fury before he noticed the friendly smile on the Gargoyle’s face. He forced himself to relax and stop acting guilty or weird before someone figured out how his session with Remi had ended.
Besides, the guy asking was a palace guard and one of the few who’d actually treated Jeremiah with respect from day one, and he didn’t look suspicious or angry on the royals’ behalf. Still, Jeremiah kept his face blank as he responded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The man’s eyebrows popped up. “During your self-defense lesson last night. My buddy is on morning shift and said the prince is limping pretty bad even after his swim. You remember he’s the one we’re protecting, right?”
