Page 66 of The Prince's Sacrifice

Chapter Twelve

Tor

Tor was no fool, so he didn’t argue with Pel’s plan. Instead, he lay back and did his best to let Pel do all the work. They stripped, since the air was warm and there was probably no reason to worry about their safety. Really, it had been a long time since they’d been completely naked for one another.

Pel insisted on a lantern instead of Tor lighting their way, even though Tor was sure he could manage a small ball of magic for light.

“The healer said torest,” Pel repeated sternly.

“It’s almost no effort,” Tor grumbled.

Honestly, before his magical coma, he wouldn’t have thought about it at all.

Pel eyed him, and then his lips quirked up. “How about this: you pick how you would like to minimally exert yourself. You can give us one light, or you can enjoy what I have planned for you tonight.”

There was no contest, of course—and Tor suspected that even if he’d picked the light, Pel would have convinced him not to do it. But lanterns worked just fine, and naked Pel was one of Tor’s most favorite things.

“So pretty,” he breathed out.

Pel let out something like a laugh. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Pel stroked Tor’s pecs, down his torso, and to his abdomen, which Tor flexed, because Pel always liked that. Indeed, his pupils went wide with lust, and his breath caught, but then he admonished, “No exerting yourself.”

Tor pouted. “I still have to use my muscles, or I’ll fall over.”

Pel gently swatted at him. “But that was showing off, and you know it. Now can you stay still, or can’t you?” He grinned, sharp and wicked. “I can make it worth your while.”

“Oh, can you?” Tor could feel his blood heating in anticipation.

Pel began a leisurely exploration of his body, using mouth and fingers like he was learning Tor by touch alone. He pressed kisses to his eyelids and cheeks and jaw, then bit gently at his throat, causing Tor to make an embarrassingly needy sound.

Pel spent a long time on Tor’s torso, leaving Tor panting and squirming. Whenever he tried to move or use his hands oranything, Pel stopped. Tor would have to lie back once more and desperately try not to move at all.

“Patience is a virtue,” Pel sang out as he moved lower still and then skipped Tor’s cock, because of course he did, skimming down his legs instead.

Tor had taught him well.

Tor’s chest was heaving like he’d run a race by the time Pel made it back up to his groin. Tor hadn’t realized that many places on his body were so sensitive. His cock was achingly hard and leaking, and he let out a desperate moan when Pelfinallysucked him down.

The heat and suction were perfect, and Tor twisted his hands in the blankets making up their little pallet and tried desperately not to come.

But when Pel pulled off, Tor whined.

“You want me to finish you with my mouth?” Pel asked, eyes dancing, lips slick and pink. “Or do you want me to ride you?”

Tor’s cock leaped. “Ride me.”

Pel grinned at him. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Tor twined his hands deeper into the blankets, so eager to reach out but knowing Pel would stop if he did. Pel prepped himself, which was incredibly alluring in its own right, but Tor ached to be the one doing it. Still, he loved Pel’s confidence in an act that had seemed awkward to him not so long ago. Pel stretched himself wide so he could slide down Tor’s cock. They both groaned, and Tor’s hips give an abortive thrust, making Pel settle more firmly on top of him.

“No exertion,” Pel admonished him.

Tor just groaned again. Was it possible you lost all your stamina when you were in a magical coma? It definitely felt like that—but maybe that was just how amazing Pel was and how long it had been since they’d last had sex.

Being surrounded by Pel’s tight heat was perfection, only Tor wanted to move, wanted to surge up into Pel and make sure theyfelt this for days—but Pel stopped moving when Tor grabbed Pel’s thighs.

Whining in protest, Tor barely managed to unclench his greedily clasping hands and instead clench them once again in the blanket. He was pretty sure he was shaking. “You’re evil.”