Pluck't

Chapter VIII

The tub brought to the prince's chamber was larger than the one at the Woodchuck.  Still, it would be a snug fit if His Highness had aspirations of sharing it.  Emil watched the steaming water as the Rose undressed himself.  It would be nice not to have to bathe in someone's tepid, leftover water.  It would be more than nice to put his arms around that sweet, golden-haired angel in close quarters, too.

Maybe not an angel.  The prince undressed with no shame whatsoever, revealing that slender, touchable, kissable pale body.  He unbraided his hair, then crooked a finger and said, "Come, Emil.  Undress and step into the water if you're going to."

Emil was going to.  He knew he would, and so he gently set his willpower aside and stripped off his shirt and breeches.  Off with his boots, and he made his way to the tub.  "There will be more room if you sit in front of me," he said, and he slipped into the water.

The prince wasted no time joining him and leaning his back against Emil's chest.  The scent of lavender yet clung to his hair despite the long, weary traveling.  Emil couldn't help himself; he wrapped his arms around the  prince and nuzzled at his hair.  "You're such a minx," he murmured, "tempting me the way you do." 

The prince smiled softly and murmured, "Should you wish to give in, do let me know." He stretched, then said, "Mmm,  I find the scent of you intoxicating."

Emil smiled despite himself.  He was aware of that particular allure, enough whores had told him as much, but it was always nice to hear it, and from the lips of this sweet flower, an even bigger temptation.  "I find everything about you intoxicating.  I should show you how you make me feel, and then you'll understand my torment."

The prince laughed softly and snuggled up against him.  Emil groaned.  That was it, Emil was going to teach him a lesson.  He started with nuzzling at the prince's throat, lipping his earlobe.  The prince gasped and arched his back, and Emil held him closer, stroking his chest.  Then his palms brushed over the hard nubs of the prince's nipples, and he paused there, circling each with a fingertip.

"Please, Emil," the Rose murmured, writhing under the touch.

"This is how you make me feel all the time," Emil murmured against his ear.

The Rose gasped and ground his backside against Emil's cock, which rose to the occasion, its thickness pressed against that lily white royal ass.

"Have mercy," the prince moaned, panting for breath.

"You have none," Emil murmured, and he unconsciously ground against the prince's ass in turn.  The friction of that cleft against his cock was exquisite.  He plucked each nipple lightly, sending a shudder through the prince as he moaned again.  Emil hoped no one would walk by the chamber and hear them.

One hand continued to torment the prince's nipples, and the other slid down his stomach to his groin.  He traced circles around the base of the prince's cock, which stood rigid and needful, but he didn't touch it, not even so much as a brush against the shaft.  "Do you feel what it's like to only almost be satisfied?" he whispered.

The prince bucked and squirmed in Emil's grasp.  His hand flew to his cock, but Emil brushed it away.  "Oh no, my prince," he said.  "No satisfaction for you whilst there's no satisfaction for me."

"Then take me," the prince moaned.  "Take me, Emil, do what you will with me, I'm yours."

"Be careful what you say, my prince," Emil all but purred.  "When something is mine, I use it at my leisure because it is mine."

The prince moaned, and he said, "I'm yours, Emil.  Take me, do what you will."

Emil groaned.  He couldn't stop himself now.  It might cost him his life, but he was going to master this beautiful youth and bend him to his will.  It couldn't be just a tryst.  He knew once he tasted this sweet flower, there would be no one else.

He closed his hand around the prince's cock and started stroking.  "Then come for me, beautiful.  Let me see you get off."  He slid his cock along the cleft of the prince's ass and steadily rolled his hips.  Sweet mercy, he was going to come without even piercing the youth.

"Emil," the prince -- his Toma -- cried out, thrusting into Emil's hand and pressing his shoulders hard against Emil's, "it feels so good, so good!" 

Emil had a dim concern about being overheard, but he was so focused on his happy work he didn't give it much thought.  Instead, he gripped Toma's hips with his free hand and rubbed against him in earnest.

Toma arched his back, and his cock spit ropes of pearlescent jism over his belly and chest.  "Emil," he moaned.  "Emil, yes!"  Emil had to grip his hips with both hands to keep him still enough to keep fucking that exquisite split.  Within moments, he felt his own release boil up from his balls and shoot all over his rose's back.

They collapsed together in the tub, panting for breath, sweat beading on their brows.  Emil wrapped his arms around Toma and held him close.  "There is so much more I want to show you, my beautiful boy.  Tonight, we'll lock the door and share the bed.  I'll use you in every possible way."

Toma snuggled against him and smiled serenely.  "I look forward to it, my darling."

The rapping on the door made Emil practically jump out of his skin.

His rose didn't so much as flinch.  "What is it?" he called.

A servant on the other side of the door said, "Duchess Adelina would like you to attend tea, Your Highness, if it pleases you."

Toma considered, then said, "Yes, once I've finished with my bath and have dressed properly."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The servants footsteps faded down the hallway, and Toma sat up, turning so he could press a kiss to Emil's lips.  "We should get to the actual bathing," he said.

Emil returned the kiss, then gathered up the soap and a washing cloth.  "I'll wash your back, then you wash mine," he replied.

Toma nodded, his long hair cascading over his shoulder.  Emil couldn't believe he had scored a beauty like this.  He also couldn't believe how willing he was to die for the privilege of touching him.