“I…” Arthur should not ask, and yet he hesitated. “I should speak to the Duke, if I can, warn him of the plans for war. Prove myself to him, if I must. I could discover the dragon for myself. Find out if it is malevolent or good, if this lord wishes me to take care of it.”
“Thislord,” the man echoed him, huffing.
“I may have no lord now,” Arthur realized aloud, with a chill banished by more kisses.
Another huff followed those, this one hot and pleased over Arthur’s collarbone. “The warriors of the Duke call themselves Those Who Belong to the Dragon. Would you be one of those?” His hands came to Arthur’s shoulders to push Arthur’s shirt away.
Arthur opened his eyes to see the man devouring the sight of Arthur flushed and wet with his own seed. “Belong to the dragon?” Arthur asked.
A dark gaze snapped to meet his.
“Yes.” It was nearly a hiss. “There are many dragons. But if you stay, you would only know this one.” He watched Arthur for another moment, then slowly lowered his head to brush kisses over Arthur’s chest.
Arthur had never been seduced, and could not be expected to think clearly or speak above a whisper. “I… would have to know the Duke.” He tightened his fingers, disturbing such lovely hair. “And the dragon. Before I would give myself to them.”
The man’s satisfied growl carried through Arthur’s warm, strangely pliant body. “Yet you give yourself to me.”
“This is not the same.” Arthur tipped his head to the side and received a soft, approving bite beneath his ear.
“Is it not?” The man watched raptly as he removed more of Arthur’s clothing. “So, you will have to meet them, the Duke and the dragon, and make up your own mind. You will judge them and decide if they may have you?”
That sounded arrogant. “I was not—"
“That is what they say it feels like to have the dragon’s eyes on you. You will be judged.” Arthur thought he felt a smile against his skin. “I think you will do well.”
“Do well?” Arthur noted that distractedly. “With the Duke? Or the dragon?” He shook his head. “Will you be there?” he asked a moment later, obvious. “In the Duke’s house? Or another close by?”
“Ah.” The man sighed it. Smoke stung Arthur’s eyes and made them close, but he did not protest as he was gently laid down upon his bedroll. For a scholar, the man was very strong. “You ask me if you will meet me again. How careful you are when you should not have to be. No one in your land has thought to have you or keep you?”
“My sister would miss me, and I would miss her,” Arthur admitted, and opened his eyes when he realized he was denying himself the sight of the man undressing. “Though she is far from my current thoughts,” he added, wanting to cover himself, yet too enraptured at the sight of bared skin and the shining, wet bead at the tip of the man’s cock. He reached for it, his touch admiring and without intent until the man exhaled with warm pleasure. After that, Arthur did not resist the urge to bring the drop to his lips. A powerless younger son could make mysterious, beautiful lords tremble with one flick of his tongue. Arthur did not know what to do with this knowledge except touch that cock again, and raise his eyes to meet a gaze of shimmering heat. His tone was shy but his words were not. “You have been patient with me and all my questions, indulgent and good. I… I wish you would have me now.”
It would be rough in this cave with no provisions except a thin bedroll, but Arthur found he did not care.
The man fell onto his hands and knees above him, making hoarse promises in between kisses that lit up Arthur’s blood. “I will shower you with all my treasure.”
A lord would have treasure. Arthur was not surprised to learn for certain that he had a lord in his arms. But he only shook his head and pulled the man down so they were chest to chest. He should have blushed for it, but heat in his skin was pure desire. He dragged his hands up the man’s back and tangled his fingers in the silky black hair he had already disrupted. He let his eyes slip closed when this earned him a pleased growl.
If, the man seemed to whisper to him again and again, promising feasts, riches, knowledge.Anything,if only you would choose.
“You are a great lord and I am a younger son.” Arthur tried to answer, gasping between each word. The man, a lord with robes of the softest cloth, rocked against him, showing Arthur how it would be, or asking, perhaps, if Arthur wanted that or something else.
Arthur wanted it all. He moaned and bit his lip to keep the sound in, failed when this only made the thrusts fiercer. He bent his legs, lifted his hips, scratched lines into smooth shoulders.
“Bear-prince,” had the sound of another growl. It made Arthur’s heart pound. “Bear-prince, name it and I will give it to you.”
Arthur opened his eyes as he was pinned down onto rock that seemed softer than a pile of straw. The darkness above flashed with light, like stars winking through fog. “Only more of this, if we could.”
“You give more of yourself to me?” The ferocity in the question burned into Arthur’s skin, like the fingers bruising at his hips and the teeth at his throat. Arthur nodded, eager for more of the strange sensation, wanting and awe together, and something stronger that stole his breath. “I would take it,” the man said, but then pulled away. Arthur did not understand why, and shamed himself with a small protest that fell to nothing when warm hands pushed his thighs open wider. “I will give it,” the man added, his voice rough despite how careful his fingers were. They felt slick and warm, and that, Arthur did not understand at first, either. It should have been impossible in this stark cave with no provisions, but then those fingers were inside him.
The air left him. Arthur shut his eyes, seeking calm, wanting to offer welcome. His muscles trembled despite his efforts, his breathing returned, but harshly.
Lips brushed over his, adoring. “No?” the man asked in a whisper.
Arthur clasped a hand to the back of the man’s neck to hold him there. He nearly expected the second gentle kiss, and moved his legs impatiently and lifted his hips to encourage a deeper touch.
“Yes.” Arthur had never been so willing. “I wanted… I only wanted to feel it more.” He did not think his answer would make sense outside of his own mind, but the man dropped his head to offer earnest, rumbling vows against Arthur’s shoulder, more promises Arthur barely heard, except forAnything.
The heat of the body settling between his legs was like ovens for baking pottery, hotter than the fire only an arm’s length from them. If there were stones beneath Arthur’s back, he could not feel them. His thighs were slippery, now, his blood singing, his neck damp with kisses.
