The sound of their garments rustling against each other was akin to that of children’s laughter. Maximillian’s body had not changed. Beneath the robe, it felt just as cold as it had always been. Jean did not let it bother him but pulled the prince into his arms. He could always part the prince’s lips and breathe the warmth he lacked into him.
“A madman, indeed.”
Maximillian muttered as he tried to push Jean away. He seemed flummoxed, a rare occasion to witness.
“’Tis the day of your betrothal, and we are in the Erhardt mansion.”
Maximillian spoke, tilting his head to avoid Jean’s lips. The words were too modest to have been spoken by Maximillian. Jean failed to stop himself from huffing out a laugh. He seized the prince’s smooth jaw and brought back the face before him.
“And?” Jean asked.
Before the prince could respond, Jean stifled his speech with a kiss. Jean pressed his lips above the prince’s for long. In the end, they parted ever so slightly. Jean pushed his tongue between the gap. The inside of Maximillian’s mouth was as silken as his skin. Jean rubbed the tender flesh of the prince’s inner cheek, as though jesting. As the tongue inside the mouth involuntarily moved forward in response, Jean gently sucked on it. The prince let out moans from the back of his throat, and every time he did, Jean’s mouth watered.
“Maximillian,” Jean’s lips parted to speak the name first, then descended without hesitance. He bit the prince’s neck. It tasted sweet on his tongue.
“In this moment, do I seem like a man of reason to you?” said Jean.
His words had forsaken manners, they had forsaken politeness, and they were unrestrained. Jean pressed his entire person against the prince’s, as though the two had been born as one. He pressed his entire being to feel the breath of the prince.
“Do you think that I, the man who pursues you, is moved to anger, tears, and love, am a man of reason?”
Jean could smell the scent that had always been with Maximillian. It was the scent that had bewitched him. The scent might truly have been identical to that on the coat gifted by the Little Pearl. Conversely, Jean may have repeatedly persuaded himself of this possibility far too many times. Jean could not discern which was true, and even if he could, it would have mattered not. The fragrance was no longer precious simply because it existed in his memories.
“How could a man who loves you—”
Maximillian was lying cross-wise on the bed, his upper body resting on the mattress while his legs stretched beyond its edge, his feet firmly set upon the floor. Jean positioned himself between those legs and pushed the prince’s shirt up. The taut stomach and the caved navel revealed themselves, and Jean kissed them tenderly.
“—be a man of reason?”
Maximillian flinched, perhaps embarrassed by the cloying words. Jean resumed kissing the stomach again, making his climb up to the lips. The ascension did not take long. Their tongues intertwined again, and Jean felt Maximillian reach out and search with his hands. The hands were desperate rather than lecherous in their search. Jean felt them wrapping around his back, bringing him into an embrace. He pulled down the prince’s trousers.
Jean touched the prince’s bare skin. Maximillian’s body was cold, and Jean’s palms were hot. He felt as though the prince would melt beneath his touch. Jean kissed the navel before moving down. His movement was cautious, like a man climbing down a steep flight of stairs.
Jean’s lips roamed over the flesh below the navel. He proceeded to worship the bones protruding on both sides of the waist, the inside of the thighs, and around the member. Perhaps it was a reaction to the gentle movement, as Maximillian’s member was half-erect.
As Jean kissed around the area, he heard the prince’s lazy moans. Maximillian’s hands groped about, as if looking for a cure. Jean led the hands down to his groin. Maximillian began quickly undressing Jean, managing to remove his trousers. Jean knelt between the prince’s legs and opened his mouth. He heard short breaths coming from above his head.
“Even the whores—” Maximillian began.
Jean licked the shaft and touched the stones. His repulsion had long since disappeared. He was simply grateful that the prince was back in his arms again.
“—even the whores in the streets do no such a thing, did you not say?” Maximillian asked, panting from the pleasure simmering inside him.
Jean made no answer. Instead, he lowered his tongue. His hand, which had been rubbing the tip of Maximillian’s member, was already damp. Jean licked the hole down below and pushed in his fingers to stretch it out. With every movement he made, the member in the grip of his other hand turned stiffer and stiffer. Jean narrowed his eyes and studied the piece of flesh. It was red with heat. He took his damp hand and stroked his own member twice. No other foreplay was needed.
“Ah!”
The tip of the stiff cock began burrowing into Maximillian. In a familiar manner, his hole swallowed Jean. Just as he had always done. And once the body was opened, Jean did not hesitate in driving himself inside. He heard moans, but he could not tell whether they were of pain or of pleasure. Jean pulled both Maximillian’s legs toward him, and their hips joined without a single gap between them. It did not take long for the inside to be entirely wet. Jean slowly caught his breath, then growled.
“Did you also take in de Palatine here?”
This time, it was Maximillian who made no answer. Jean slowly pulled back, then pushed himself back in forcefully. The pleasure climbed in intensity, matching the speed of Jean’s thrusts.
“And Matt Grisham?”
Jean dug his fingers into the legs that were in his hands, and only then was he given an answer. Maximillian responded, his face slightly flushed from the heat.
“Pray, what concern is it of yours if I did?”
Jean began thrusting vigorously at the vexing answer. His movement was so forceful that the flesh made a clapping sound, causing Maximillian to bite his lip and let go.
Jean lowered his torso, then licked the prince’s lips like a predator tasting his prey. He sucked with vigor enough to leave a mark on the lips and devoured them until Maximillian couldn’t breathe. Jean felt Maximillian tighten his hole as though in response. And Jean reciprocated, slamming his waist hard against the prince’s behind. He then fucked the man again and again while kissing him. At some point, Maximillian was indulging in Jean’s lips and tongue as well, as though he was hungry for them. Their spittle drooled down, but neither of them cared.
“Once we are done with this filthy deed—”
In the brief moment that their lips parted, Jean spoke. He was panting.
“—I shall go and kill de Palatine and Grisham.”
A thrill of ecstasy ran down his spine. Jean’s form was firmly affixed to the prince’s, and he gyrated his hips as if he were a savage canine in the throes of mating. And Maximillian, pushing his posterior toward Jean, resembled the same beast, in the same state.
“Bring as many men as you want to your bed, for I shall slay them all, and you shall never be able to seek their members ever again. Am I not right?”
“Jean... Jean, release me. Please?”