Page 28 of His Summer Prince

Wren’s eyes closed. His grip firmed, and he circled his thumb over Elior’s glans. The faerie oil had sensitized him to the point he felt every small groove of Wren’s thumb pad, the tiny ridges rippling over his most tender spot. Precum seeped from his slit, every drop an offering.

He fucked into Wren’s fist, and the fat veins of Wren’s swollen cock slid back and forth over him. Every bump was a jolt ofpleasure. Sucking on Wren’s plump bottom lip, Elior lost himself to the feverish rhythm of his hand. Need coiled inside his groin, spiraling. His balls grew full and heavy and drew toward his taint. Every flick wound the mounting tension tighter. Swells of lust crashed into him, Wren barely holding it together above him.

Elior deepened the kiss, letting the surge rush into him. He was close, his cock throbbing against Wren’s, lust pearling out of him like beads on a necklace.

“I come just for you,” Elior whispered against his lips. “Never in my life have I come for anyone other than you and never will I.”

Wren’s steady motions faltered. Fierce possessiveness exploded in the bond, and Wren, losing all restraint, pushed Elior into the mattress with raw strength. Elior gasped as the air was forced from his lungs. Their eyes snapped to each other, that sky-blue gaze flaring.

There was no holding on.

Elior cried out as his cock lurched in Wren’s fist and cum sprayed onto their chests. The power of his orgasm shoved Wren over the edge, and a second bolt of lustful completion shot through them as he followed him into paradise.

Their souls merged, and the world faded. There was no Vale, no orc invasion, no Winter King, no yesterday and no tomorrow. There was nothing but them, pulsing in ecstatic unison, their insides dissolving in all-consuming convulsions. Cum soaked their skin, high-pitched cries cascading out of them as they clawed at each other. Elior’s arms and legs wrapped tightly around Wren. Their bodies clung to one another with desperate need, as though they yearned to unite in the same irrevocable way their souls had. Violent release seized their cocks, draining them spurt for spurt. Inside, contractions ricocheted through them, rippling into every part of their bodies.

“We are one,” they said, and goosebumps raced over their skin. May God have mercy on the poor souls who tried to get between them.

Chapter Nine

Wren

Once they returned to the Somer Valley, Wren and Elior camped near the village of Mendham, whose red brick church rose on a hill high above the valley. Every few days, they herded the flock to a new pasture, ensuring the sheep always had fresh grass to munch on.

The sun was crawling over the blue afternoon sky when across the fields, a commotion arose in the village. Wren looked up from where he’d been trimming an ewe’s hooves. At first, he saw nothing but the quaint village at the foot of the hill.

A shock bolted into the bond. Elior must have seen something. “Wren…”

He squinted. There it was—hulking green figures moving between the houses. Orcs. A man’s scream ripped through the air. Wren glanced at Elior, whose eyes were glued to the scene unfolding in the near distance.

“Wren,” Elior said, his voice deceptively calm as he watched on, “we need to go. Now.”

At the edge of the village, smoke rose as a shed went up in flames. Panic crawled up Wren’s chest. Had the orcs discovered them? The sheep he’d held in his lap broke free and trotted away, baaing.

He’d heard that the orcs had progressed north, but he hadn’t known that they’d come this far. Elior was right. They had to run. If they were still here when the beasts finished with Mendham, they would be next.

Every muscle tight with alarm, he looked from the herd to the empty pen to his shepherd’s hut and all the supplies strewn about the campsite. Packing up took them an hour when they weren’t in a hurry. They’d have to be much quicker now.

Urgency thrumming through his veins, Wren whistled at Toby and commanded him to round up the sheep. The dog leaped into action, circling the flock to herd it toward Wren, who hurried to pack their belongings. With superhuman strength, Elior ripped the posts of the pen out of the ground, rushing to store the fence partitions inside the hut.

The clashing and shouting from the village spurred them on as they worked furiously to get away. Elior slammed the door shut before he hitched the horses to the hut and climbed into the box seat.

Heart racing, Wren prodded the horses into a trot, then helped Toby herd the sheep. They moved as fast as they dared with the flock and the wagon, following the river upstream.

Every so often, Wren glanced over his shoulder, watching the smoke rise high above Mendham even after the screams had faded in the distance. The splashing of the river accompanied them as they rushed north, reaching the village of Hurst by early evening.

Wanting a buffer between them and the orcs, they passed it, deciding to set up camp a mile north of the village. Wren would’ve liked to keep going, but the sheep were at their limit and needed rest.

“We’ll be fine,” Elior said as Wren nervously glanced around. The land here was flat, and the lack of trees left them awfully exposed. “As bad as it sounds, the orcs will have found enough men in Mendham to sate them for the time being. Even if they march north tonight, they’re more likely to attack Hurst, a village full of men, than come looking for the two of us. I don’t think they saw us.”

Wren nodded numbly. “If Lord Dalton hadn’t fallen out with the Spring Court…”

“He would’ve had fae knights, and they would’ve prevented this. At the wedding, I heard rumors that he was to marry a princess of the Spring Court. But I don’t think his heart was in it. Not after I’d seen him with that young spring fae. He didn’t want to marry for political gain when his affections belonged to someone else.” Elior’s eyes softened as he regarded Wren. “Not that I can blame him.”

Warmth spread through Wren. Elior pulled him into a hug, and he relaxed, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I wish I could’ve done something,” Elior said, “convinced my mother to contribute knights.”

“I know. I’m just glad you’re here.” Wren tightened his embrace, feeling Elior’s strong body against his.

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