“I want to see you ride me.” Ignas pulled Faust up into his arms and switched places with him, settling Faust over his stomach, thighs on either side of his hips.
Faust pressed the palms of his hands to Ignas’s toned chest, his brows furrowed, pleasure pooling in Faust’s stomach at the new position.
Ignas caressed Faust’s face. “Set the pace.”
Faust nuzzled into Ignas’s hand. “You think of everything.”
“I aim to please you.”
Faust adjusted and sat up higher, his ears flaming. He had imagined this a bit differently. He thought Ignas would keep him on his back or even his knees. He steadied himself as Ignas ran his hands up his hips and guided Faust into place. He sank slowly, his nails biting into Ignas’s bronze skin.
Ignas leaned his head back with a groan.
Faust settled on Ignas’s stomach, his breathing ragged.
Ignas rubbed Faust’s hips. “You all right, Faust?”
“Y-Yeah,” Faust exhaled. Ignas’s warmth was inside him now, and it flooded his senses with nothing but Ignas’s magic. He was Ignas’s just as much as Ignas was his. His magic coiled with Ignas’s in an illicit dance as if Ignas was taking power from him. It was a sensational feeling he never knew he could experience during coupling. He eyed the lustful gaze Ignas gave him, as if he penetrated his soul as well. “You are just . . .” Faust searched for a word that wasn’t embarrassing, failing miserably.
Ignas wiggled his eyebrows and moved his hips.
Faust gasped. “D-Do not move so suddenly!”
Ignas grinned and fondled Faust’s hips, his hands dipping to stroke Faust’s cock in one hand.
Faust jerked with a cry and moved his hips, too.
Ignas began slow, rocking Faust and encouraging him to move up and down. It took little coaxing for Faust to take control of his own pleasure. Moans and gasps slipped from his lips, his eyes on Ignas. He leaned back and held Ignas’s forearms to change the pace.
Ignas gripped at Faust’s hips and thrust to meet him.
Faust shuddered with an obscene sound.
Ignas continued to thrust, until Faust grunted, shaking in Ignas’s arms.
Faust’s world tilted as Ignas rolled them and held his thighs up, thrusting harder and deeper. Heat seared Faust’s senses, and his magic grasped at Ignas’s and yanked.
Ignas grunted, moving faster.
Faust gripped at the sheets, his knuckles white. He arched off the bed, his voice peaking as he trembled with release.
Ignas took one last hard thrust and leaned over to capture Faust’s lips in a passionate kiss, riding out the waves of their pleasure. He held Faust’s hips as close as their bodies would allow.
Faust wrapped his arms around Ignas’s shoulders, exploring Ignas’s mouth. He sighed into a kiss and stared into Ignas’s eyes, basking in the mess they’d made of themselves.
Ignas stared back, enamored. “How long can I have you before your guard dog comes?” Ignas planted a trail of kisses on Faust’s neck and rocked their hips with a quiet groan.
“He is already here.”
Ignas startled.
Faust toyed with a piece of Ignas’s hair in his fingers. “He will not come up here.” Faust smiled. “So, until I leave this room, I am yours.”
Ignas’s eyes flashed with desire, his gaze traveling the room. “Then let us continue.”
Faust followed Ignas’s gaze. There was a table, a couch, and the bed they lay upon. He even glanced at the door, wall, and floor.
“How adventurous are you, gorgeous?”
Faust wasn’t certain he knew the answer. “I suppose we must find out.”
“I think you are.” Ignas kissed him. “You were turned on by the idea of me spreading you on a desk earlier.”
Faust attempted to hide his blush. He thought Ignas had missed that. Ignas pulled away, and Faust glanced at the table then back to Ignas.
Ignas hoisted the prince over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“I-Ignas! Must you carry me like this?”
Ignas caressed the back of Faust’s thigh. “You like it.”
Faust couldn’t argue; he did like the way Ignas manhandled him. It reminded him how able-bodied Ignas was.
“I’ll be gentle. I promise,” Ignas sang and set Faust—his precious cargo—on the table.
“You better be.”
Chapter Nineteen
Laughter echoed around Faust, and a playful wind rustled his hair.
Faust turned right, left, forward, and back again, searching the forest for the laughter’s source. The journal mentioned laughter like this. Linos could be beckoning him. He stepped forward, and the forest shifted and twisted into new trees.
Fire crackled.
Faust whirled to see fire rush at him and spiral in angry arcs, the heat rising.
Faust gasped awake, pushing up on his arms, his head hung low, and his breathing quick. He tried to calm down, but his heart still raced. A warm hand slid along his neck, and a steady warmth flooded Faust’s senses, washing away the remnants of sleep.
“Whatever it was, it was just a dream.” Ignas continued to massage Faust’s neck and shoulders with one hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore and tired.” Faust rested on the pillow, content with the impromptu massage. He glanced over at the mercenary. “You are insatiable.”
Ignas chuckled. “Only for you, gorgeous.”
Faust eyed the papers in Ignas’s hand, but his gaze traveled up Ignas’s bare arm to the rest of his body. Ignas was still bare, but his skin bore red lines from Faust’s nails and various small bruises. A slow smile worked its way onto Faust’s lips. He liked seeing his claim on the man. Once Ignas had taught him how, he left as many as he could. Faust was almost certain he looked the same, minus the scratching, but it was unfair that Ignas looked rejuvenated and not the least bit tired. “What are you reading?”
Ignas set the papers in his lap and turned his full attention to Faust. “I received reports from those we freed. Earl dropped them off before he left.”
“It is not good news, is it?”
“You would be correct, but I’d rather not think about that just yet,” Ignas said and massaged Faust with both hands.
Faust groaned and sank into the bedding more. He rather liked Ignas’s strong hands traveling down his back. “I will not be up for another round.”
Ignas moved Faust’s hair from his neck and kissed the presented skin. “I would not push you for another. I feel I have pushed my luck having you this long.”
Faust turned to admire his lover. “Once we leave, I can only be Lord Arcus.”
Ignas stole a slow kiss. “I know.”
“What did you find out?”
Ignas nipped one last kiss.
Faust laughed and playfully pushed Ignas.
“An urgent matter in Akarvine was brought to my attention. The city denied the Guild of Smithery clearance.”
Faust frowned. “The guild should be allowed clearance along the border cities, especially those that share the border with the Kingdom of Roltan.”
Ignas reached for the papers. “Akarvine is worse than Hol according to my sources. It’s almost its own province, and there’s an abundance of slaves.”