Ignas smiled against Faust’s ear. “Then let us be off.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ignas carried Faust up the stairs of the inn. The walls were a lighter wood and lacked any of the Windilum flare of Ignas’s taverns, but Faust was certain Ignas’s warmth would permeate the walls soon.
“I can walk, you know,” Faust said into Ignas’s neck, leaving a wet kiss. He blew on it to make the mercenary squirm.
Ignas growled. “Too slow. The key’s on my belt. Can you reach it?”
Faust laughed, carefully wiggling around in Ignas’s arms until he found the key. He held the key up with a wide grin. “This one?”
“Yes,” Ignas said, passing several doors in the hallway.
Faust gripped the key. He was really going to bed Ignas. His nerves fluttered, and his skin tingled at the idea of Ignas touching him.
Ignas stopped at a door. He tried to push the door open with his shoulders, but it didn’t move.
Faust burst into laughter, his nerves momentarily forgotten. Ignas had one thing on his mind—him. “Let me.” Faust fiddled with the key and unlocked the door.
Ignas grinned like he hadn’t forgotten the key and shoved the door open and closed with his back, fumbling to lock it.
Faust lifted one finger, and wind magic swirled, the lock clicking back in place.
Ignas took a step forward.
“Should we undress first?” Faust smiled, uncertain. There was still a chance Ignas might change his mind. He hoped he would find his question teasing, instead.
Ignas tightened his hold in thought.
Faust bit back another laugh and squirmed in the mercenary’s hold until he was set on his feet. He leaned up on his toes. “You are so impatient.”
Ignas let out a frustrated sound and grasped Faust’s chin, sealing his lips in a heated kiss. His hands wandered to Faust’s slim hips.
Faust gasped at Ignas’s strong grip and drew away to breathe.
“Will you remove your glasses for me?”
That would make this moment more personal. “Only behind closed doors,” Faust said. He removed his glasses and whisked them away to a table with a bit of wind from his sky stone.
Ignas rested his forehead against Faust’s, keeping him closer to the door. “Still want this?”
Faust played with the fabric of Ignas’s tunic. He thought he could hide behind his glasses, but at the same time, he wanted Ignas to see him as a Prince of Alios. It was far more exciting. He was finally going to experience another man’s touch without interruption. “Yes. How long are you going to keep me waiting?”
Ignas stole Faust’s lips in another kiss, grabbing his ass closer. Faust gasped and ran his hands over Ignas’s shoulders to curl his fingers into Ignas’s hair.
Ignas turned and leaned Faust against the door.
Faust groaned as Ignas’s weight pinned him to the door. He shuddered into another heated kiss and tugged at Ignas’s belts, fumbling to unlatch them.
Ignas batted Faust’s hands away and took care of it himself, tossing them to the floor without care of the loaded guns.
“That was dangerous,” Faust said into another kiss.
“I’m careful enough.” Ignas untied Faust’s sash.
The game was playful, but urgent, their clothes trailing to the bed. Ignas tossed a small container on the bedding in haste.
Faust bounced on the bed, posing as Ignas admired him. He admired Ignas in return, his gaze drifting. Ignas seemed to like what he saw—that meant he was doing this right. Faust beckoned Ignas with his finger. “Come here.”
Ignas crawled onto the bed, capturing Faust in a greedy, open-mouthed kiss, and plastered Faust to the bed.
Faust moaned. Ignas was much warmer than before, and the warmth invaded the room, conquering it as Ignas’s territory. A sharp jolt of their hips made Faust buck his hips with a shudder, their cocks rubbing against each other’s, finally with nothing in-between. Ignas’s cock was larger than Faust had thought it would be.
Ignas trailed even more kisses along Faust’s neck. He snaked a hand down Faust’s stomach and stroked Faust’s cock with prolonged passes.
Faust gripped at Ignas’s arm, gasping, his nails digging in with each passing tease.
Ignas kissed any part of Faust’s skin he could reach, continuing his onslaught.
Faust’s skin was on fire as pleasure rolled through him straight to his cock. He twisted and clung to Ignas, his hand far more skilled than Faust’s had ever been. Faust took a ragged breath, embarrassed by the sounds that left his mouth.
“Faust,” Ignas called and slowed his strokes to tease the tip of Faust’s cock with his fingers instead.
Faust jerked and bit his lip. He cracked his eyes open to stare at Ignas, not holding back his want.
Ignas made a guttural sound in the back of his throat. “Have you been with anyone before?”
Faust’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away. “I have not.” He shifted his gaze back and ran his hand down Ignas’s chest. “But that does not mean I do not know what happens.” He stroked Ignas’s erect cock with confidence.
Ignas gripped Faust in return, smiling at the moan it elicited. He dragged his fingers over Faust’s stomach, his nails leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Your skin has the faint scent of soap.”
Faust blushed. “I-I was to be presentable to meet with my people. What is wrong with that?”
“People don’t always bathe before making love.” Ignas chuckled, looking at Faust. “You are even more beautiful when you are aroused, gorgeous.”
“Done interrogating me?”
“For now.” Ignas stole a long kiss.
Ignas relaxed Faust’s nerves with slow, sensual kisses and pulled back just as slow. Faust wasn’t ready for Ignas to stop and a low whine slipped from his lips.
Ignas paused, allowing Faust to breathe. He stared at Ignas in return, stroking his face.
Ignas kissed Faust’s palm, leaned back, and dragged Faust closer by his hips, spreading him.
Faust sucked in a breath, his anticipation rising. He grasped at the pillow and the sheets.
Ignas flashed a charming smile and opened the container he’d thrown on the bed, dipping his fingers into the oil within. He stared at Faust for a long moment.
“Yes, Ignas. I want you.”
Ignas dropped one finger to tease Faust. He teased until Faust relaxed more, and then slid a finger into Faust and groaned.
Faust’s head fell back on the pillow with a groan of his own, and he twisted the fabric in his hand, biting his lip as Ignas began thrusting his finger, soon accompanied by another. Faust moaned, unable to hold his voice back. He had not expected it to feel quite so good. Faust jolted with a startled groan at the addition of a third finger, his breathing shaky. “I-Ignas!”
“Relax, Faust.” Ignas continued at a much slower pace. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Faust concentrated on Ignas’s warmth instead and the sensation of Ignas’s magic brushing against his own in a slow caress. It was far too soothing, and he bucked against Ignas’s motions, his breathing growing faster.
“Ready for me?” Ignas asked, focused on Faust’s expression.
Faust blinked hard with a moan. All he could do was nod, and he whined when Ignas removed his fingers.