Prince's Master, page 26
He slipped a hand between them and jerked Castien’s fly open. When his hand closed around Castien’s thick, leaking cock, he groaned, his hole tingling. There was still no slick, but at this point Eridan kind of didn’t care. He wanted him inside. Castien’s cock was coated with lubrication, which betrayed how aroused he was. It would be enough. It would be more than enough.
“Fuck me,” he whispered against Castien’s mouth. “Want you inside of me.”
Castien shuddered on top of him, his erection becoming even harder in Eridan’s hand.
What happened next surprised him. Eridan had expected that Castien would simply take his pants off and stick it in, but Castien stripped him completely and then just stared at his naked body with glazed eyes.
It made Eridan feel beautiful and wanted, his skin tingling and his cock aching. He spread his legs and said, “Master.”
Apparently, that was enough to make Castien move. He trailed kisses down Eridan’s neck, sucking bruises into his skin and then licking his nipples. He sucked on them for a while, making Eridan whimper breathlessly. His nipples had always been so very sensitive, and when he’d jerked off, he’d always imagined his Master sucking on them. The reality was better than any fantasy. Each gentle suckle seemed directly connected to his cock and his hole. Soon, Eridan was writhing under Castien, clawing his back and holding Castien’s mouth against his nipples.
Finally, his Master moved lower, his lips tracing his abdominal muscles, and then lower. Eridan cried out as Castien took his hard cock into his mouth and sucked.
“Be quiet or someone might hear us,” Castien told him telepathically, bobbing his head up and down, his mouth relentless and wet.
Eridan couldn’t be quiet. He had to bite his own hand to muffle the sounds he was making, his other hand burying in his Master’s hair and pushing him down on his cock. It felt so good.
But soon, it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed something else.
As if hearing his thoughts, Castien pulled off his cock and moved his mouth lower, kissing and nipping the insides of his thighs. His stubble scratched the sensitive skin there, making Eridan whine in mild discomfort and sharp pleasure. He moaned as Castien’s tongue finally pressed against his hole. He had always been extremely sensitive there, too. It felt weird not to feel himself getting slick, but the pleasure wasn’t any less. He loved getting eaten out, and from how often his Master had done this to him, he knew Castien enjoyed going down on him, too. It felt unbelievably good, his hole quivering at every touch of that wet, glorious tongue. Burying his hand in Castien’s hair, Eridan tried to pull him deeper, tried to impale himself on that tongue—and failed. He sobbed out, wanting to be filled, needing it so badly he could barely focus on anything but more-now-cock-Master.
“Patience,” Castien’s voice said in his mind. Slicking his fingers with lubrication from Eridan’s cock, he pushed two fingers in, making Eridan moan in relief. It was better but still nowhere near enough.
“I’m ready,” he snapped. “Just put it in, Master!”
Castien didn’t listen.
It felt like he tortured him for hours, stretching him with two and then three fingers, his mouth alternating between sucking Eridan’s cock and kissing his sensitive thighs.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Castien pushed his cock into him.
Eridan moaned in relief, his hole squeezing him greedily. He dug his fingernails into his Master’s muscular back as Castien bottomed out. “Kiss me,” he said.
Castien leaned down, folding him in half, and kissed him hungrily. Eridan sighed in bliss and kissed back, feeling embarrassingly needy. His Master started moving in him, the girth of him so satisfying that every slow thrust made Eridan moan against Castien’s mouth. He could feel that Castien was trying to be gentle, but his body was getting tenser with every moment.
“Come on, I can take it,” Eridan murmured, nipping on Castien’s bottom lip. “I can take everything you give me, Master.”
Castien shuddered, his heavy body driving harder into him, his cock practically pounding him into the couch.
Eridan was distantly aware of the whines leaving his mouth, shameless and slutty, his body on fire. It just felt so good: the scent of his Master, his mouth, his hard body on top of him, the thick cock inside of him. But something was still missing.
“Master,” he whispered, reaching out mentally. “Please.”
He felt Castien’s telepathic mark vibrate with tension before it moved forward and pushed into him, too. The noise that left Eridan’s mouth was embarrassingly high. He welcomed his Master into his mind, their pleasure doubling as a full merge snapped into place. He could see himself through Castien’s eyes: his flushed face, his pretty, swollen lips, his naked body, writhing under him, on his cock—so tight around him, so beautiful, his Eridan, his, just his—
Eridan went very still, just allowing himself to be kissed, feeling stunned. He soaked up the hungry desperation and the overwhelming affection pouring into him from Castien. But affection wasn’t the right word. It felt all-encompassing, unstoppable, and limitless. It felt like a necessity. He was a necessity.
His Master needed him.
His Master. Needed. Him.
The thought was enough to make him come with a confused moan, Eridan’s vision blurry with overwhelmed tears. Castien shuddered and went still on top of him, spilling his release deep inside him.
Master.
Eridan.
He felt Castien’s lips on his face, kissing it softly, reverently.
It was almost too much. His chest felt like it was about to burst from affection, love, and need. He felt like he was choking on them.
I love him, Eridan suddenly thought. I will always love him. I will never love another person as much as I love him.
Any other time the thought would have been disheartening, but not at this moment. Not when he could feel how much he mattered to Castien. Their minds were still joined in a deep telepathic merge, and it was impossible to lie in a merge. He could feel everything Castien was feeling. He felt precious. He was precious. The most important thing in the world.
Eridan blinked his eyes open, having trouble believing what he was sensing. Was this why Castien had denied him a full merge for years? Because he didn’t want him to sense this? Or was this a recent development? He didn’t understand.
“Sometimes I think about it,” Castien said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was slightly muffled by Eridan’s cheek. “I think about what if I took a different route to Hronthar that day nineteen years ago. Or what if I ignored the boy with a toddler in his arms trying to get my attention. What if I just delivered you to the Fifth Royal House instead of taking you to the Order.” He nipped at Eridan’s jaw, no doubt leaving a hickey. “If you lived to adulthood, you would be just another prince for me, one of many to manipulate and control. I wouldn’t even pay you a second thought. I would marry you to someone else and not give a damn.” Another hickey. “What a nice concept. A nice fantasy.”
Eridan stared at the high ceiling, his heart beating so fast he felt nearly dizzy. “Master?” he whispered shakily, unable to believe what he was hearing. What Castien was implying.
“You are mine,” Castien said, sucking a hickey into his neck. “You will always be only mine. I will kill anyone who touches you.”
Eridan shivered. Coming from any other man, that would have sounded like melodramatic exaggeration. Coming from Castien, it was just a statement of fact.
“If you didn’t kill Tethru yourself, I would have done it anyway.” Castien nuzzled against his collarbone, nipping at the skin there. “Therefore, your guilt over his death is not only foolish, but misplaced and irrational. He was dead from the moment he touched you.”
“This is still hardly a love confession, either,” Eridan said dryly, not knowing whether to laugh or be horrified. His heart felt like it was about to burst.
Castien lifted his head and gazed at him. “I… I’m trying, Eridan,” he said, his voice quiet. “Frankly, I am not sure what love is. But you are the only thing—the only person—I care about deeply. The only person more important to me than my Order.” He smiled ruefully. “Which is not something I have ever thought I would say. The Castien Idhron from five years ago would have thought someone had brainwashed me into this foolishness.” He stroked Eridan’s cheek with his thumb. “Maybe you have, and I just have not noticed. I’m rather irrational and short-sighted when it comes to you.” He grimaced a little. “My blocking your memories of your real name was proof enough of it.”
Eridan swallowed the sudden tightness in his throat. “So you didn’t do it because of the Order?”
Castien let out a humorless laugh. “The Order was the last thing I thought about when I did it. I was…” He met Eridan’s eyes. “For years, without your knowledge, I was preparing you to claim your birthright. But I was the one not prepared to let you go when the time came.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I know I should not have done it, but I’m not perfect, Eridan. And fear was the one emotion I had never experienced until I realized you would stop being my apprentice—that you would stop being mine. I was irrational. Rash.”
Eridan blinked a few times, feeling stunned. He hadn’t even thought Castien could feel fear, much less fear over losing him—and admit it.
“All right,” Eridan said, clearing his throat. “You’re forgiven for that. But if you mess with my memories again, I…” He paused, trying to think of a suitable threat. “I’ll never forgive you again,” he finished lamely.
To his surprise, Castien seemed to take the threat seriously. He simply nodded.
Eridan looked at him, warmth filling his insides as it hit him anew that Castien really had feelings for him. That Castien needed him, cared for him deeply, and wanted him around, always.
Eridan smiled helplessly. “Admit it: you totally checked your mind for any outside influence when you first noticed those icky emotions.”
Castien averted his gaze.
“You did!” Eridan laughed, slinging his arms around his neck and pressing his mouth against Castien’s. “You’re so ridiculous, Master. Only you would think having feelings isn’t normal.”
Castien kissed back for a moment before pulling back to look Eridan in the eyes. “So will you come home with me?”
Eridan stared at him. “You were actually serious about it?”
“Of course.” Castien’s expression was somewhat uncomfortable. “The castle is too quiet without you. I don’t… I suppose I have become used to your chattering over the years.”
Eridan cocked his head to the side and smirked teasingly. “Are you saying you missed me terribly, Master?”
Castien’s expression became rather pinched. But the denial Eridan had half expected didn’t come.
“Yes,” Castien said tersely. “I missed you terribly. Are you happy now, you insolent brat?”
Eridan’s smirk softened into a smile. So maybe Castien could learn to communicate his feelings.
Leaning in, he gave him a chaste kiss as a reward, which Castien immediately turned into a hard, greedy one, all tongue and want.
Sighing in pleasure, Eridan returned the kiss happily for a while.
When they finally parted, he pushed Castien onto his back and stretched on top of him, relishing the way their bodies fit together, their minds as entwined as their limbs. Putting his head on Castien’s chest, he breathed in his familiar scent, feeling achingly, toe-curlingly happy.
He murmured, “Can I even be a member of the Order again when I’m such a public figure?”
Castien made a thoughtful sound, running his fingers through Eridan’s hair. “There is no precedent for a member of a royal family being a member of the Order, but there is no rule against it: neither in the Order rules nor in the Calluvian laws. It will most likely cause a scandal, but your reputation is not exactly good right now as it is.”
Eridan scrunched up his nose and chuckled. “Yeah, let’s make a bad situation worse. I have nothing to lose, I guess.”
“No,” Castien said. “Your return to the Order can be spun in a positive light. We have many media outlets under our control. Pushing the narrative we want will not be difficult. You will be protected from public scorn.”
Eridan scoffed at Castien’s unashamedly corrupt ways, but he couldn’t erase the warm feeling that curled in his stomach. He had missed this: this feeling of absolute security and trust. He trusted that his Master would protect him, always, by any means necessary. No matter how much he and Warrehn had grown close, he hadn’t felt a fraction of such trust and safety in months.
Warrehn.
“I can’t abandon my brother,” Eridan said, lifting his head.
Castien heaved a sigh. “You would hardly abandon him, Eridan. You can get from Hronthar to this palace in less than an hour.”
“I guess,” Eridan said, frowning. “It still doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t have anyone but me, and this palace still isn’t home for him. Dalatteya and her son hate him.” He narrowed his eyes at Castien. “Speaking of which, can’t you make her like Warrehn, too? Like you did with her attitude towards me?”
Castien hummed, stroking his back absent-mindedly. “It is not that simple. I have carefully manipulated her mind for years, in preparation for your eventual ascension to the throne. I wanted to make her harmless when it came to you. But your brother… I had not even known that he was still alive until a few years ago. And even if I knew he was alive, I obviously would not have bothered to make Dalatteya predisposed to like him. Your brother’s death would have been convenient for me.”
Eridan wished he could be angry, and part of him was, but mostly he just felt exasperated. He’d had no delusions about his Master. He had known what kind of a man he was when he fell in love with him. At least Castien was being honest. That was something, he supposed.
“You’re a terrible person,” Eridan said with a sigh, kissing the hollow of Castien’s throat. “I guess I’m a terrible person, too, for loving you anyway.”
Castien’s arms tightened around him.
“Will you come home with me?” he said, his voice not quite steady.
Eridan smiled and spoke against his neck.
“Yes, Master.”
Chapter Thirty-Two: Peace
For a moment, Warrehn thought he had misheard. Surely his brother couldn’t be saying what he thought he was saying.
“What?” he said.
Eridan was blushing, radiating guilt. “I’m going back to High Hronthar,” he said. “I will be Master’s apprentice again.”
Warrehn narrowed his eyes. “Apprentice,” he said skeptically.
Eridan blushed harder, glancing back at Idhron. “Well… Yes, apprentice.”
Idhron stepped forward, laying a hand on Eridan’s shoulder.
Warrehn couldn’t help but notice how possessive that gesture was. He bristled, but Eridan seemed to lean into the touch, his telepathic presence becoming warmer and lighter.
Warrehn stared at him and realized that he had never before seen his brother happy. Truly, genuinely happy.
The thought was gut-wrenching, but Warrehn couldn’t be upset by such an abundance of happiness. He took a deep breath and let it out. Calm. He could be calm. His brother’s happiness was more important than his own disappointment.
He looked Idhron in the eye and said, “You will take care of him. If you ever hurt him—”
“I won’t,” Idhron said simply. “I will not allow any harm to come to my apprentice.”
Apprentice. Right.
“And when he isn’t your apprentice anymore?” Warrehn said.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Eridan looking at Idhron, too, waiting for his answer.
“He will always be mine,” Idhron said, his hand on Eridan’s shoulder tightening. “Whether he is twenty, fifty, or a hundred years old.” Idhron’s eyes were dead serious. Warrehn probed him mentally, and, try as he might, he could sense nothing but sincerity.
Warrehn sighed, running a hand over his face and hair. “Eridan, could you leave us for a moment? Just for a moment.”
Eridan hesitated, looking between them, and then nodded and left.
Once they were alone, Warrehn looked at Idhron grimly. “How am I supposed to be okay with my brother, a prince and my only heir, being your fuck-toy?”
Idhron’s jaw clenched, something dark and dangerous appearing in his telepathic presence. “I have had plenty of ‘fuck-toys.’ Eridan is not one of them.”
“Then what is he to you?” Warrehn ground out. “Are you saying you’ll give him a family? That you’ll give him children?” Were the mind adepts of the Order even allowed to have children?
Something flickered in Idhron’s eyes. Warrehn had the strangest feeling that this was the first time the idea had even occurred to him.
Idhron was silent for a moment, a contemplative look on his face.
“You know nothing about the Order,” he said at last. “We have lineages that function in the same way traditional families function for you. We may not be related by blood, but we do take care of our own.” He shrugged. “However, there are Masters that have traditional families and children. I am not very fond of children, but if Eridan wants to have some…” Something wistful appeared in his expression. “I am not entirely opposed. In any case, that is something that is between Eridan and me.” He looked Warrehn in the eye. “I understand that you are his brother and that you worry for him. But you have nothing to worry about. He is no longer the child you entrusted to me nineteen years ago. He is capable of thinking for himself and he knows what kind of a man I am. Frankly, your concern is ridiculous. Eridan has an abundance of power over me, because I will do anything to keep him safe and pleased. He is—he’s my greatest weakness.” Idhron’s expression became tight, as if the word was physically painful for him to say.
Warrehn sighed. He could sense the sincerity in Idhron’s words. He wasn’t lying for once.
