Terrence gave the coins to Yoan. “Have the supplies sent to my room. If all the items I’ve requested have been gathered, we shall get to work.”
“Yes, Father,” Yoan said. “I’ll get right on it.”
Terrence smiled and watched Yoan go. He shifted his gaze to Faust. “Now then, Lord Arcus, I need to take your measurements.”
Faust took a step back.
Terrence grabbed Faust and pulled him forward. “I already have Sir Rene’s, now it’s your turn. I can’t have our patron walking around in clothes like that. You must have a presence, turn heads, and command attention.” A smile crossed Terrence’s lips. “I will make a noble merchant out of you yet.”
Faust glanced at Rene, but the historian only put his hands up in defeat. He looked around for Ignas, but he, too, was gone. He could not believe this.
Chapter Thirty-One
Faust swung the door open to the inn room he was to share with Ignas. His gaze landed on the lounging mercenary on the plush bed. “You traitor,” Faust complained and closed the door behind him, locking it.
Ignas perked from his perch on the bed. “I didn’t feel it was necessary for me to wind up with a new wardrobe. I happen to like mine, and I know you do, too.”
Faust did like what Ignas wore. “Still, I had to sit through hours of outfits.”
Ignas grinned slyly. “I thought you’d be used to that by now.”
“I ran from our seamstress.” Faust tossed his cloak and scarf on the chair and slipped his glasses off to place them on the table. He removed his belts, swords, and leather armor at the table, stretching. Ignas’s gaze followed his movements, eyeing his tight pants as usual. Faust turned around with a smile and waltzed over to the bed. He crawled over to Ignas, straddling Ignas’s hips.
Ignas’s eyes darkened with lust. “I’m surprised Rene let you room with me. Did you finish your business with him?”
“He is far too busy talking to Terrence,” Faust said. “I can tell him later. Rene will have to share what he learned with me anyway. Spending time with you felt like a better idea.” He’d spent hours as a dress-up doll. He wanted to relax, and this would be the last time he would be with Ignas. Once he was in the presence of other royals, he would no longer be Lord Arcus, and his contract with Ignas would end the second he set foot in Whitrose.
Ignas stroked the side of Faust’s face. “So, does this mean I get to have you to myself all night?”
Faust twirled a lock of Ignas’s dark hair. “Perhaps.”
Ignas surged forward and kissed Faust. He held Faust’s head in place and deepened the kiss.
Faust gripped at Ignas’s shoulders, a moan slipping past his lips. Ignas’s warmth rushed through him, and Faust relished in the sway it had on his magic. It was a tantalizing touch back and forth, much stronger than it had been when they met.
Ignas grunted into a kiss and tugged at Faust’s sash. He tossed it to the floor and captured Faust’s mouth in another possessive kiss.
Faust melted into Ignas’s arms, flush against Ignas’s chest with a groan. “I do need to ride a horse tomorrow.” He stole a slow kiss, his fingers teasing Ignas’s hair at the back of Ignas’s neck.
Ignas narrowed his gaze. “So, I can have you twice?”
“Once. Make it count,” Faust said, his gaze level with Ignas’s eyes. Faust wanted to live this night like he didn’t have to leave Ignas. He wanted Ignas to be his and take anything Ignas offered him. “I am yours for another night more.”
Ignas grabbed Faust’s hand and kissed Faust’s ring finger. “I shall worship you tonight.”
Faust’s ears grew quite hot, but he moved his fingers to trace over Ignas’s lips with a giddy smile. By Alimphis, Ignas always knew how to make his heart flutter.
Ignas nibbled on Faust’s fingers, running his tongue over them before he sucked on them suggestively.
Heat pooled in Faust’s stomach and went straight to his cock. He let out a breathy sigh and settled his weight on Ignas’s hips, elated at the hard-on he felt in return. Faust snaked a hand down between them and palmed Ignas’s cock.
Ignas jerked with a groan and took one last suck of Faust’s fingers, letting go with a pop. He smoothed his hands under Faust’s tunic and drew Faust’s undertunic up and over in one swift motion. Ignas helped Faust shimmy out of his tight pants and admired Faust’s cock, fingers sliding down Faust’s newly exposed skin.
Faust gasped at the hot touch of Ignas’s fingers along his bare skin, the heat far exceeding his usual warmth. He reached to remove his hairpin, but gentle fingers stopped him.
“Leave it on,” Ignas whispered.
Faust nodded.
Ignas rolled Faust onto the bed and drew back to rid himself of his own clothes. He shucked them away without care where they landed.
Faust gazed upon Ignas’s bronze skin with growing lust. He would miss seeing him like this.
Ignas strutted back to Faust and crawled onto the bed to plaster Faust to the bed.
Faust grinned. He loved it when Ignas did that.
Ignas dove in for a kiss and trailed many more down Faust’s neck and chest, smirking against his skin.
Faust flushed up to his ears. “Terrence had me bathe.”
Ignas continued his journey of kisses down Faust’s stomach, pausing to stare up at Faust. He gazed into Faust’s eyes and took his cock into his mouth, working him into pleasure.
Faust arched off the bed with a loud moan. The warmth Ignas gave off was almost overwhelming when combined with his hot mouth. He grasped at Ignas’s hair and gripped hard.
Ignas groaned and held Faust’s hips down when he bucked into his mouth.
Faust grew frustrated that he couldn’t move. He was subjected to Ignas’s agonizingly slow pace, and it drove him mad. Ignas gave his cock another slow pass, and a whine slipped past his lips as he shuddered.
Ignas moved away with one last glance.
Faust flopped on the bed, his breathing ragged. Sweat beaded at his brow. Ignas caressed his thighs and lifted them with gentle care, grinning at the intake of breath he received in return. Faust’s mouth twitched into a pleased smile.
Ignas admired his handiwork. He leaned down and kissed Faust slowly, rutting against him. He slipped his hand under the pillows and pulled out a bottle of oil stashed there.
Faust regarded the bottle with a knowing look, pleased Ignas had planned ahead. Faust situated his legs on either side of Ignas’s hips and gripped at the pillows.
Ignas dipped his fingers into the oil and teased Faust until he could slide a finger inside. He took his time easing in another and another to prepare Faust.
Faust rolled his head back with a harsh shudder and a cry of the mercenary’s name. “Must you go so slow!”
“I’m worshiping you, gorgeous,” Ignas said, not increasing the pace.
Faust groaned and squirmed, bucking his hips. “Well, get on with it.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.” Ignas chuckled and moved back, spread Faust wide, and thrust inside him.
Faust arched his back, gripping at Ignas’s hair, his knuckles white. He blew out a moan, pleased with Ignas’s execution of his command, and tugged at Ignas’s hair.