Page 91 of Heartbreak Prince

Whatever momentary astonishment he suffered, he recovers quickly, and a cunning eagerness brightens his gaze. “May I come on you? On your skin?”

A tiny flutter between my legs tells me that I might not be entirely sated. I’m consumed by curiosity about which part of me he’ll choose—like I’m a living altar, trembling in anticipation of where he’ll place the offering.

“You may,” I tell him.

Standing at the bedside, he surveys my entire form while unbuttoning his pants. He takes out his length, and his hand travels along it with smooth, practiced strokes. He rubs his thumb lightly over the tip, glossing it with arousal, and then he continues stroking.

“This is going to be quick,” he says with a rueful laugh. “I’ve been aching all night. Keep looking at me like that, and it’ll be even faster—gods—ah—”

He takes his hand off himself, breath hissing through his teeth. His cock bounces once, but he doesn’t come yet, though his face contorts like he’s in pain. He’s trying not to release too soon.

I lift my hand, reaching for him.

“Don’t touch me, I beg.” His voice breaks. “Give me a moment.”

I withdraw my hand, laying my arm against the sheets. Vawn sets his knee on the mattress near my shoulder and touches the swell of my left breast, the part that bulges above the bandages. His fingertips travel inward, toward my breastbone.

Drawing a ragged breath, he takes himself in hand again and strokes swiftly, almost frantically. He comes in a pearly spill that pools between my breasts. Right over my heart.

I doubt he thinks of it that way. The emotional proximity probably doesn’t register in his mind at all. With him, the choice was probably as simple as, Nice tits. I want my cum on them.

I watch him coax out the last drops. He looks so pretty when he climaxes: black lashes on flushed cheeks, his chest heaving, his lips arched and parted.

I want him in my mouth. I need him back inside me, somehow.

Vawn’s eyes meet mine, and a faintly quizzical expression takes over his face. “Do you think I’m handsome?”

“What sort of question is that?”

“You never say it.”

I scoff. “Because it doesn’t need to be said. You’re well aware of your looks.”

He scrunches his nose. It’s a boyish grimace, and it turns my resolve to butter.

“Do you need me to tell you how pretty you are?” I say softly. “How you look like a god when you come?”

“A god?” He raises his eyebrows, grinning. “High praise indeed.”

“See, this is why I don’t comment on your looks. You’re already vain and obnoxious enough. Get me a cloth to wipe this mess off, and then go away. I need sleep.”

“Do you?” He tucks his dick into his pants and gives the laces a halfhearted pull. “I thought we could stay up a little longer. Lady Kaenan gave me a kit of nail supplies, including a few different base coats and some very fine glyph paint from last year’s Guild batch. And we still have some leftover from our second Guild sample. Maybe I could do our nails.”

“Aren’t yours still damaged?”

“I’ve been applying repair serum since we arrived. A few of them can handle a glyph. I could redo your fingernails, and I could paint your toenails, too, if you like.”

I wince. “I don’t know about that. Toe glyphs still scare me.”

Vawn chuckles, tugging one of my garter ribbons until the bow slips undone. “I told you, I’ve got a technique. You’ll be all right. They won’t activate unless you want them to.” He draws the stocking down my leg until he reveals my toes. “Look at these chubby little beauties. Just begging for some lovely magical art.”

“You seem to have done a lot of research into glyph-craft.”

“Other than sex and parties, it’s my favorite hobby.” He tweaks one of my toes gently.

“This technique of yours, for the lower glyphs—do you ever plan to share it publicly?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been concerned how it might change things. The landscape of glyph-craft is already so imbalanced—this could make it worse.”