The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Twenty One

Trembling, Tracou shut the door to the lord's bedroom.

Thoughts seethed in his mind. He couldn't grasp any one of them for more than a moment. Fragments like Mirthal, likes me, kissing, erection, and what now each had their chance, but when he turned from the door to face Mirthal, they fled him.

His lips still wet, Mirthal stood, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

Right. Clothes had to come off. He had seen Pendaer naked, but never Mirthal. That injustice would end today.

Tracou grabbed the bottom of his tunic and pulled it over his head, shivering when air hit his bare skin. After folding the tunic, he set it and his wand aside.

He could stop this. If he wanted, he could tell Mirthal he was tired and wanted to sleep and he would go along with it.

His eyes drifted down to Mirthal's crotch.

Just moments earlier, he had felt Mirthal's arousal against him. Was he supposed to ignore it? He couldn't. Knowing that Mirthal wanted him, after pining after him for so long, did things to him. He might never sleep again—not as long as he and Mirthal shared a bed.

As long as he met no resistance, he would go as far as he could.

Tracou looked up at Mirthal, only to see that he had not started the disrobing process.

"Mirthal?"

"They're pink," he mumbled. "It's cute..."

"What are pink?"

"Mmph... I don't know the word in Aodehsh. You know, on your chest?"

Tracou looked down at himself.

"Nipples."

"Nipples..."

"Yours aren't pink?"

"No."

After a moment of hesitation, Tracou inched closer to Mirthal.

"Can I see?"

Mirthal nodded and, with shaking hands, took his upper layers off. Rooted to the spot, Tracou drank in the sight of him—of the tan line below his neck, of the muscles in his arms, of his collar bone, of his distinctly brown nipples.

Desire flared within him, one more powerful than he had ever experienced. If he had wanted Mirthal back in Shalen, when he had shown off his archery, then he needed him now. He needed to touch him.

Pressing himself against Mirthal, his breath hitched. Mirthal's heart stuttered under his skin and he tensed, his arms staunchly at his sides.

"You don't like it?" Tracou asked, already pulling away.

"N-No!" Mirthal placed a hand on Tracou's back to keep him from retreating any further. "I like it. But I, um... I don't know what to do..."

Frowning, Tracou nodded. What did two men do? What could they do? He knew what men and women did together and the mechanics of how it worked—everyone knew that. Two men would have to do something different.

"Do anything," he said, skimming his fingertips along Mirthal's chest.

"...Anything..."

Too absorbed in the feel of Mirthal's skin to care about Mirthal's hesitation, Tracou took his time, trying to commit every inch to memory.

This night had gone so far beyond his expectations. Earlier today, he had panicked about Mirthal's feelings. Now, he stood with him, half naked, touching him. Touching him.