Font Size:

“You said we’re already having the nightcap,” Rupert said, as he picked up his glass again. “I’ve never slept in a bed with another person.”

“Neither have I,” Winter admitted. “As you are aware, intimate fondling, whether in a bed or not, is always short-lived. After all, we do have a position to maintain.”

Rupert nodded. “I always worried that anybody I’ve shared intimacies with before would get the wrong impression if I fell asleep with them.”

“Oh, my goodness, yes.” Winter nodded, flashing his teeth. “It really wouldn’t do our royal reputations any good, even for me as a previously lowly prince from Martingale, if perhaps we belched, snored, or broke wind while we were still asleep, in the presence of somebody else.”

Rupert burst out laughing. “I’ve got to admit I’ve never thought of those issues before. It was simply that I never had a wish to stay with someone once the intimate acts were finished. I would get uncomfortable if they pushed me to stay longer.”

“Ah, I can understand that.” Winter nodded. “To hold a person after you’re done, to share your sleeping space with them, to be vulnerable in sleep when someone may be watching you – that is true intimacy, isn’t it? To find a release is one thing. To be able to release the ache in our balls is indeed a fun occasion, but that act in itself is short-lived, and you’d probably be wanting to do the same thing the following day. The physical acts don’t provide the satisfaction that deeper intimacy can.”

Winter eyed his husband, who was clearly listening. “At the risk of sending you running for the door, you need to know that I expect more from you. You’re my husband. I expect if I take you through that door” - he pointed to the door of his bedchamber, currently closed – “then that is the level of intimacy I’m looking for. It will be new for both of us, but it’s the type of intimacy important to me.”

“Hmm.” Rupert thought for a moment. “I hear what you’re saying, but I feel compelled to ask, will you care if I belch, snore, or pass wind while I’m in your bed?”

“Maybe it’ll depend on what you had for dinner.” Winter collapsed into chuckles. “No, no,” he said when he got control of himself. Just thinking about the impeccable confident crown prince farting… “I think those are perfectly natural things people do in the privacy of their own space.

“I am not sure about you, but when I’m in my bedchamber alone, I’m not wearing a shirt – in fact, I wear as little as possible. I can lounge around in that state, reading, responding to letters or messages, or sometimes just daydreaming as I look out of the window. My bedchamber is the one space I have in this world where I can truly be myself.”

“Then you’re offering me a gift, inviting me into it,” Rupert said. “Perhaps one a little more valuable than the brooch I bought you, although I am honored that you wear it. But if your explanation is a long-winded way of asking if I will respect the gift you’re offering, then the answer is yes – to the best of my ability, yes.”

This time, when the whiskey glass went down on the table, Rupert stood up. Crossing over to Winter’s chair, Rupert loomed over him for a moment before bending down and very gently, but very deliberately, planting a kiss on Winter’s cheek. It was Winter who turned his head and met those lips with his own. For a first kiss, it really wasn’t bad, especially considering their rather awkward angle.

Winter managed to get rid of his glass, so he could wrap his arms around Rupert’s neck. Rupert may not have shared pleasure with a man before, but he had a magical set of lips. He groanedas Rupert pressed closer –I truly don’t need to breathe. I’ll live on these kisses alone.

Chapter Twenty

The only way to get past the nerves is to jump in with both feet.Rupert was surprised by just how intensely attracted he was to Winter. Admittedly, when he’d been half-heartedly picking a princely husband in the past, the men chosen were more for their small stature and submissive nature. In a nutshell, Rupert hadn’t wanted anyone who was going to cling to him or try to change him in any way.

The joke’s on me.Rupert preferred pretty to brawn, he always had. Winter ticked those boxes. He could appreciate someone with delicate facial features and a slender build. Winter met those requirements as well. But in everything else, Winter was in a class of his own. He was a strong man with firm ideas, and he wasn’t afraid to voice them. He knew what he wanted and went out and made things happen. Not traits Rupert usually preferred, he always worried a partner like that would overshadow him.

Winter didn’t do that. For some reason, and Rupert didn’t know why - but he was going to thank any higher power that would listen that it had happened - Winter seemed to like him and wanted to help him. Even to the point of offering to share his bed.

In matters of intimacy, Rupert hadn’t had a flicker of performance anxiety since he’d gotten through his first time. But he couldn’t deny he was wading into uncharted waters with Winter, and Rupert knew if he didn’t dive in, he’d likely not even get his toes wet.Why am I thinking about toes or water?Rupert focused on his husband – the man moaning under his lips.

The business with the bed was surprising, but as Rupert thought about it, he realized it was another way Winter was outlining his expectations and setting his boundaries. In a strange way, ratherthan being put off by such behavior – something that would’ve happened with anyone else – Rupert was grateful Winter had made his decisions for him. He didn’t have to think – he just had to do.

Like the kiss – a kiss that shocked Rupert with how arousing it was. Winter was a willing partner, pushing up from the chair, trying to get closer. His moans set Rupert’s blood on fire…although, damn with the angle he was standing, he was getting a crick in his back. Not conducive to happy intimacies.

Deciding to take the initiative, Rupert wrapped his arm around Winter’s back, and as he stood up, he pulled Winter up with him. The angle was still awkward. Winter was considerably shorter, but the clever man just jumped, so he was standing on the seat he’d just been pulled out of, leaning forward and resuming their kiss.

Even with his eyes closed, Rupert could never mistake his husband for any woman he might’ve kissed in the past. Winter’s lips were full, but there was a hard pressure behind them. It wasn’t just the shape of the lips either – it was the confidence in how Winter was kissing him back.

Rupert pushed away a sudden pang of jealousy at the idea of his husband sharing his kisses with other people. That wasn’t his business, and as Rupert didn’t want to discuss his sexual history, he was hardly going to ask Winter about his.

“Is it time for you to invite me to your bedroom now?” Rupert panted as they broke apart long enough to take a breath.

Winter’s response was a strong hand running down Rupert’s torso, before cupping the bulge that was evident under his robe. “I really think I’d like to see you naked, so I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

Rupert wasn’t concerned with how he looked out of his clothes. He was a physically imposing man, no matter what he wore. While he rarely stripped off entirely with other people, he wasn’t concerned about showing Winter the man he was married to. In a sudden fit of mischievousness, he swept Winter off his feet, cradling him in his arms, as if he were a damsel in distress, crossing the outer chamber floor and stopping at the door of Winter’s bedroom.

“Once I step over this threshold,” he said, studying his husband’s face, aware of how husky his voice was. “I promise I will stay until morning.”

“That’s all I ever wanted from you.” Winter’s smile was wicked and promised so much. “I want to know for sure that we’ll have more together than anything we’ve shared with others in the past.”

Romantic words deserved an equally romantic action. Rupert’s plan was to sweep Winter into his room and place him on the bed before the clothing removal part of the evening started.

Unfortunately, he was thwarted by the door handle. With Winter in his arms, Rupert was banging his knuckles on the wood of the door, searching for that damn handle.I can’t even see the damn thing.