Page 15 of Cinder
Two strong hands picked him back up. Prince Lorenz held Cin firmly, staring into his eyes with a fascination that made Cin feel naked despite all the layers of magic and lies he’d wrapped himself in.
"Are you hurt?" the prince asked, his breath short in a way Cin found stupidly sensual.
"Only my pride," Cin admitted, his head clearing as he stood there in the prince's strong hold. Surely the whole of the ball would follow them out soon, though, if the emergence of the first watch member behind Prince Lorenz was any indication. "I must go."
“Then leave me something to remember you by?”
Cin shifted on the balls of his feet. The watch seemed content to do just that, but a crowd of three people who’d recognize Cin as more than just a stranger who’d caught their prince’s attention would be there any moment.
But Cin didn’t want to go—the longer he stared into the prince’s eyes, the more he felt likehimself. No Plumed Menace, no home-maker frantically keeping his family afloat, but a singleglowing cinder, ready to blow out or burst back into flame at a whim. He couldn’t leave here and never feel that again.
“Why should I give you something if I'm to return in barely a week?” It wasn’t a promise of anything sexual, but itwasa promise of a sort.
The way that Prince Lorenz’s grin grew across his face was a delight, his eyes sparkling and a breeze pushing back his dusky hair beneath the gleaming silver of his crown. He truly was gorgeous. "But my dove," he teased, "I fear a week will feel like an eternity when I'll be thinking of nothing but you."
"Then you may have this." Soft and impulsive, Cin pressed his lips to the prince’s, before dashing off into the night without a second look back.
Seven
Cinder Szule Reinholz had kissed the prince of Hallin. The magic of his outfit fell off him as he raced his steed home, each glimmering piece turning to a sparkle on the breeze, and he could not even find it in himself to worry whether the incredible clothing would return for next week’s ball, because all his mind could conjure was the light brush of his lips against the prince’s.
There had been power in that kiss. Not romance—not destiny or love or any of that—and perhaps not even a huge amount of sexual spark, considering the lightness and quickness of it, but power nonetheless. For Cin had wanted it, and he’d taken it. That act had felt like the inverse of his blade sliding between a bastard’s shoulders: emotion and need turned to goodness instead of sin.
As he’d run from that moment, his magical mount had met him at the castle gates, seeming to know exactly what he required of it, but the instant he turned down the final roadto home, it began to break apart into single birds, flapping and scattering off into the trees. It deposited him in his worn, ordinary pants, shirt, and cloak at his family’s front gate. Lacey and Ragimund landed on the short fence, and Perdition took a loving swoop at Cin’s head before peeling away. The other two followed.
“Thank you!” Cin called after them. The smile on his face felt right now.
He laughed and charged inside. Floy might have unwittingly driven him from the ball, but that meant the whole rest of the night was for him, alone in the house for one of the few times in recent memory. Cin locked the door behind him and pulled off his boots. As he loosened his chest binding, the ache between his ribs turned momentarily to a fire, but it slowly settled again and he let himself fall back on the sitting room’s least sagging chair.
He thought of his lips against the prince’s again. Of the way he’d been so close those last few minutes when they’d talked. The heat in his gaze when Cin had first pulled himself over the railing. The way Prince Lorenz had held his own dick, still slick and hard, andlookedat Cin, like one man thirsting for another.
It was the first time he’d been so openly desired since discarding his dresses and eye-pens for a chest binding years ago, and those rare times prior had always made him feel nauseous. He’d assumed that the heat of others’ attraction would always feel that way. Now though...
While Cin hadn’t been able to enjoy the attention in that moment, with the comfort of hindsight and in the safety of home, the thought of the prince’s lust forged a deep, fiery ache between Cin’s legs. His fingers felt twitchy. He bit his lip and tipped his head back.
Slow and careful, like he was feeling for someone else’s body, he slipped his fingers into the front of his pants. The gentle brush of his skin against the coarse curls that covered him theremade the yearning grow, and suddenly it would have taken more effort to stop himself than it did to give in. He thought of Prince Lorenz again as he stroked himself, picturing the way the prince’s body had bucked into his lover, strong muscles tight and his lips parted. What must his hair look like messed about? What did his sweat smell of? How did his fingertips feel against the skin?
Cin’s pace moved from steady to rough, like he couldn’t get enough of himself—just as his mind couldn’t get enough of the prince. Cin bit harder into his lip and pushed himself through the spreading fire between his legs until it turned white-hot inside him, the ecstasy spilling up and through him.
He came out of it panting, shaking, and his tender sweet spot twitched. But on his lips was still that smile.
Alone in that darkness, with nothing to lose, he wished Prince Lorenz could see it.
If the Reinholz family suspected Cinder of having been anywhere besides their home, they said nothing. Emma flounced from the carriage in a whirlwind of smiles and sighs, immediately falling into Cin’s arms in a half-slumber. He listened to the rest of his siblings’ chatter as he led her upstairs to undress and put to bed.
“Did you even speak with him?” Floy scoffed. “Or were you too preoccupied flirting with anything within touching distance?”
“While you lose the prince’s hand to some fleeting phantom, I’m gonna get myself a pretty, rich spouse with a house that isn’t caving in and cold as fuck, and never have to see your awful mug again.” Manfred’s snarling grew ever louder as he ascended the stairs toward his room, until it turned into a full-blown shout. “Cinder-whore! Why isn’t my fucking hearth burning! I thought that was the whole damn reason you stayed home.”
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Cin called back, instead of telling him to do it himself. It would take longer and more grumbling, and in the end Manfred would fail and make Cin finish it anyway. At least Cin had the satisfaction of knowing that Manfred had never managed to so much as greet the prince, while Cin had sat so close they’d touched and dared to end the night with a kiss.
Emma sighed again, dreamily, as Cin helped her climb into bed. “I think I’m in love, Cinny-Szule.”
Cin’s heart clenched, and he didn’t know why. He patted her gently on the head before pulling up the blankets. “With who, Emma?”
“The prince’s drinking chocolate,” Emma purred. She rolled over with a yawn, snuggling the covers around her chin. “Drinking chocolate is so good...”
Cin laughed under his breath, but the tightness in his chest didn’t release. If anything, the pain grew. He had the urge to kiss her forehead and tell her not to fall too deeply in love with the imported chocolate drink, but to find a nice young person who loved it as much as she did and run away with them, as far from this house as she could get. Which was absurd. She wasfinehere. She had everything she needed, and Cin to make it all happen.
