Page 77 of Serpent In White
Drake sits on the edge of the bed and removes a vial from his pocket. Gulping, I realize what’s happening as he reaches into the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a packaged syringe.
He’s giving me Empyrean. Because I asked for it…
He thinks this is all he’s good for? Like a drug pusher?
“I don’t need it,” I assure him. “I would rather you just stay.”
He narrows his gaze at me. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yes, it does,” I argue. “This isn’t all you are, Drake.”
He blinks, then purses his lips, opening up the needle, sticking it into the vial. He goes through the process, this time squeezing my bicep himself with his left hand while his right injects me.
All the breath leaves my lungs while the drugs enter my veins. And once he lets go of my arm, I’m seeing things much differently.
Drake is Empyrean… whether he wants to be or not.
When I blink myself awake, I feel like I’ve been asleep for three years.
My body is in slow motion, head all fuzzed over, warmth surrounding me like a bubble of protection from everything negative there is or ever was.
Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever slept as well as I did last night. And when I tilt my chin, I realize why.
Abdiel Harmony… My nineteen-year-old Domestic, is curled around me, head resting comfortably on my chest, dirty blonde curls tousled all over the place while his eyelids flutter. Watching him closely, everything from last night comes back to me, and I instinctively look around, as if expecting to find Drake on my other side… where he should be.
But that thought is ridiculous. Drake hasn’t slept with me in twenty years, since before everything…
Pushing away the memories, I focus on Abdiel, resting peacefully. He must have knocked out too, exhausted and sated from what we did. What we most certainly were notsupposedto do, though it felt as easy as breathing.
His breaths are tickling my flesh. Actually, I think he’s drooling a little, which makes me smile. And in this moment, gazing over the lines of his face, his long lashes, the pointed slope of his nose, his pillowed lips and carved jawline, leading down to his naked frame of all slim, cut-up muscles, soft skin and occasional scattered ink, I can think of nothing other than how purelybeautifulhe is.
Inside and out, yes, but he just looks like he was made to be my Prince. A prince I never thought I could have…
I’ve spent so many years chasing Drake, while simultaneously pushing away my wives, dodging the expectations of the Regnum, that I seem to have forgotten what happiness is. In hiding myself, I think I forgot how it feels to be in love…
I know it’s crazy to consider being in love with Abdiel already. But Ihaveknown him for nineteen years. I’ve always loved him as a part of my family, but now I’m seeing him for who he’s become. A gorgeous specimen of a man; a curious being with lust in his eyes and devotion in his fingertips.
Abdiel wants me, I know he does. He probably wants Drake, too. I know I do.
This whole thing is immensely complicated, but I can’t deny how badly I’m dying to see where it goes.
Abdiel shifts on me, bringing my attention to his thigh draped over my legs, morning erection brushing my own. It prompts a hum from within my chest, which has his eyes fluttering open. He glances up at me, then closes them once more, a contented smile covering his puffy lips.
He stretches out, like a kitten who just awoke from a particularly grueling nap, and I discover a need inside myself, another thing I never really knew I could experience…
I want him like this all the time. Ineedto keep him, take care of him; to cherish him.
I need more nights with him, burning through the sheets, and more mornings with him gazing up at me like he is right now. Flushed and starry-eyed.
Mine. My Prince.
Abdiel’s throat moves as he swallows, blinking his sleep-eyes awake, hand resting on my abs, fingers tracing the lines.
“Good morning,” he whispers, sounding uncertain, in his voice and his head. He heard what I was thinking…
“Good morning, my sweet Prince.” I sift my fingers gently through his mussed hair. “You’ve slept well?”
He nods, timid thoughts racing in his mind. “Yes, sir.”
