Page 24 of His Summer Prince

Wren’s cock twitched. Hot arousal gathered in his core. He hung onto Elior with everything he had, part of him fearing he’d rip away if he let go. “Y-Yes.”

“Did you come?”

Heat streamed through every fiber of Wren’s body. He was on fire from head to toe. His fingers had to be burning holes into Elior’s tunic. “I-I did.” His balls climbed at the memory.

“And how did that feel?”

“Do you enjoy tormenting me?”

“Yes. And make no mistake, Iknowhow much you love this questioning. It makes you rock-hard. So answer: how did it feel when you came for me?”

Wren tightened his hold and rocked up against Elior, takingthe friction he craved. “Like heaven. My insides clenched so hard. I came like a fucking geyser.”

“So did I. It was amazing. I felt your love all around me, pulsing and stroking. I came just for you.”

Hot precum spilled onto Wren’s skin, his cock lurching, raging against its confines. He ground against Elior. “I’ll never come for anyone but you.”

He tilted his head and kissed Elior’s cheek, then captured his lips. Their mouths connected, and their hips fell into a rocking motion, pleasure building as they moved together. There had never been anyone else for Wren. They were tied together, their souls united, their bodies wrapped up in each other.

Wren’s cock hit Elior’s, and he wished their clothing was gone, but there was no time, the need for connection was too bright. Panting and kissing, they took each other higher. Wren’s insides strained.

Elior stared into his eyes, pupils blown. His lips parted, and a pearl of sweat slid down his temple. Wren clutched him, relishing the powerful body moving atop him. Elior slammed their hips together and groaned as sparks shot up their spines.

This was them—wild abandon and untamed feelings. No holding back. Fuck the rest of the world. Nothing but this mattered.

Wren’s insides narrowed to a ball of sizzling lust. Elior’s jaw tensed, and the muscles in his face twitched. He sped up, rutting against Wren with determination flashing in his eyes. Wren’s cock gave a violent twitch, and with his sights trained on Elior’s green gaze, he came.

He cried out, his inner muscles clenching as the cum shot out of him, sullying his trousers. Elior bucked, his rhythm faltering, his focus shattered. His mind fell into Wren’s, their souls fusing. They were one, vibrating with the force of their orgasm, hearts hammering, insides contracting. The blissful squeeze andrelease of their loins took them higher. Elior’s climax echoed through him, feeding the delicious spasms driving into his core, spurring them when they slowed. Over and over Wren came, pelvic muscles convulsing until they’d wrung the last drop from him. He went lax on the blanket, Elior stroking his soul and kissing his lips.

They clung to each other as they descended from their high. Wren glowed with bliss. He shared this with Elior, had climaxed in his arms, body and soul raw and open. With anyone else, he would’ve feared awkwardness in the wake of this, but with Elior, he was safe. Elior’s feelings were steady, and Wren hugged him, holding him to his chest.

Chapter Eight

Elior

Over the years, Elior had attended his fair share of weddings, some unions less expected than others, but no invitation had shocked him more than that of Lord James Aranin. Not because Elior hadn’t thought he’d be invited, or because he hadn’t known that the lord was courting someone although both those things were true. No, Elior stood there gaping at the missive because Lord Aranin was marrying an elf.

Unlike fae, elves were sworn to celibacy and had to refrain from entering romantic and sexual relationships. There were rare rumors of elves having illicit affairs with humans—after all, legend said fae were the children of humans and elves who’d fallen from grace—but something must’ve happened so that a human lord could announce his betrothal to an elf without consequences. Something big.

As happy as the occasion was, it meant Elior had to travel to Castlehill. He’d be away from Wren for at least two days.

“I’ll just come with you and take the sheep back over the hills,” Wren said unperturbed when Elior brought it up. It was a warm morning, and they had worked themselves into a sweat making repairs to the fence.

“Are you sure? It’s a long journey.” Guiding the flock across the hills wasn’t easy, and Elior felt guilty for putting Wren and the sheep through it.

“It’s fine. Please don’t worry about it. I’ll tell my mother I’m going to support her during the festivities. I can cater to theguests like I did at King Malorn and Master Henry’s wedding.”

A realization struck Elior, and a wide grin spread across his face. He was practically bouncing with giddiness.

Wren looked up from where he was hammering a rail to a fence post. “What? Did I say something funny?”

“No. Yes. I just realized something when you used such formal titles,” Elior said. “You know we’re married…”

“Yes? So?”

“So? That makes you a prince,” Elior sniggered.

Wren blinked. “Are you serious?” He seemed to turn it over in his head. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Another pause. “So can I demand you call me Prince Wren from now on?”

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