Page 37 of His Summer Prince

Finally, Elior’s channel constricted in a last, heavy bout of release. Neither of them moved, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Wren kissed Elior’s stomach, then eased out—Elior almost protested.

Around them, the meadow was quiet. Thank goodness their temporary loss of control hadn’t roused anyone. Elior’s presence of mind returned, and he wove a silencing spell around them. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d keep most of the noise from reaching other ears.

Elior watched from under hooded eyes as Wren stripped off his clothing, leaving him naked before him. No words were needed. He slicked his cock, and a ghost of prickles danced over Elior.

Wren hovered over him, hard and ready. Faerie oil enhanced endurance to unfathomable lengths.

They kissed, lips meeting in the most tender of brushes. Elior breathed him in, that scent of man and home, which grounded him like nothing else.

“I want to be inside you,” Wren said against his lips.

Elior’s soul flared in bliss, and Wren deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into Elior’s mouth where they met and tangled.

Elior spread his legs wider, giving Wren access. Wren took himself in hand and, with his lips on Elior’s, guided himself to his entrance.

Elior whined into his mouth when Wren’s cockhead, wet with fresh faerie oil, met his stretched rim. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Hesitation seeped through. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Elior said, arms and legs wrapping around Wren. “The oil will make it smooth and easy. Come inside.”

Wren dropped a raw groan and pushed. His bulbous glans pressed against Elior’s tiny opening. “I won’t fit.”

“You will. It’ll be nice and snug.” They’ve might been young and inexperienced, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to have fun.

“You’re killing me.” Wren grunted and shoved, but Elior’s entrance didn’t give. “Try and push out.”

Elior couldn’t see how that would help, but he bore down anyway. His pucker expanded against Wren’s head, and then, with an easy thrust, Wren popped inside and drove his length balls-deep into him.

Elior gasped as the sensations raining down on Wren’s cock flooded the bond. Hot. Slick. Tight. God, he was so fuckingtight, Elior’s inner muscles gripping Wren with all he had. Wren looked like he was about to pass out from the pressure.

Elior spasmed around the thick intrusion, grunting at the stretch. Wren’s fingers had been slender in comparison to the girth holding him open now. “Fuck!”

Wren didn’t move, granting him time to grow accustomed to the long, broad cock lodged inside him. The faerie oil took away all hints of pain, and Elior relaxed into the penetration. At last, Wren was inside, their bodies connected in the most primal way.

Wren’s soul enveloped his, flooding him with warmth and affection. Elior answered, filling the bond with his overbrimming emotions. He’d never loved anyone but Wren.

The faerie oil sent a rush through him, and he couldn’t help his hole clenching around Wren, making him moan.

Wren rested his brow on Elior’s. “You feel incredible. I almost came.” He gave a shallow thrust, dragging his length across Elior’s lit-up nerve endings.

“So good,” Elior mumbled, tightening his hold. With his arms wrapped around Wren’s shoulders and his legs encircling Wren’s hips, he was caging him with his body. “Want to have you inside me forever.”

Deep in Elior’s soul, Wren pulsed. “I’ll always be with you. Inside you. Like you’re inside of me.” Wren rocked his hips, his cock traveling through Elior.

Elior’s eyes rolled back in his head. Wren’s sheer presence put pressure on his prostate. It fueled his need to come and spill the fluid swirling in that eager gland. As Wren moved, his cockhead bumped that sweet bundle of nerves over and over, each nudge drawing precum from Elior. It grew into a sizable bead and spilled over, joining the mess they’d made of Elior’s skin.

“Such a filthy fae.”

“I couldn’t be filthy if I tried,” Elior said with as much haughtiness as he could muster with a cock pleasuring the very center of his being. “Besides, you like it.”

“Oh, I adore it.” Wren dragged a finger through Elior’s release, then licked it up. “I made you do that.”

“Like I made you come in your breeches?”

“Yes.” Wren grinned.

He tunneled in and out, and Elior moaned with every knock against his prostate. He dribbled onto his stomach.

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