ANNOUNCEMENT: Because of changes in the US political climate, threats against er*tic material and P*rn producers, as well as changes in Wattpad's terms of service and persistent stories of shadowbans and AI content-checkers purging stories, I'll be removing The Prince's Boy from Wattpad at the end of 2024. If The Prince's Boy is one of your favorite stories, you can write to me for an ebook version that you can keep, or come on over to TheoReads, a new website which will be the new home for Kenet and Jorin.

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15: Jorin

Two weeks. Two more weeks passed without Kenet touching me or inviting me to touch him. I began to rack my brain incessantly for a clue to why he would have withdrawn like this. Had I pushed him too far, too fast? Perhaps I never should have suggested we go beyond touching with our hands. I had told him it wouldn't be clean to take me in his mouth. Was he afraid that was what I wanted him to do every time? Or had something else put the fear in him? Had he seen something like what I had seen with Dubacki's chastisement?

Had the king said something? Did he suspect something?

But no. If that were the case, then I have no doubt the king would have separated us. I would have been long gone from the castle.

I continued to give myself release quickly before each practice down at the barracks. It was brutish and unsatisfying, but necessary.

Then one night I woke to find Kenet buried deep under the coverlet, his mouth on my cock like wet velvet, suckling eagerly. There was nothing I could say or ask—he couldn't hear me under the heavy covers anyway—and I was not even sure he was aware he was doing it.

That didn't stop me from sinking into the pleasure. His fingers played with my balls, tugging them gently, and I wondered what could have given him that idea. Wet, so wet, and then a teasing finger brushed back and forth on the crinkle that was my hole. I came with a muffled shout, burying myself under a pillow, while he continued to suck and lap until I was completely soft and sated.

Only then did he emerge to kiss me deeply, filling my mouth with the musky taste of my own milk.

When he pulled back, he pressed a finger to my lips, asking me for silence. Then he settled himself in my arms and was fast asleep in mere moments.

So I asked the questions in my head. Kenet, dear Kenet, what's happened to you? What is happening to you? Will everything be all right now? Don't you need release, too?

I had no answers.

The next night I decided I would give him what he had given me. I woke when the first frits began to sing, even though the sky was still night black, and he was deeply asleep. I slipped slowly under the covers, moving oh so slowly so as not to wake him. Getting his cock free of his sleeping clothes was easy, though, as he was flaccid.

Though not for long. I took him into my mouth and was gratified by the sensation of him growing firm between my lips.

I hadn't meant to slip a finger inside him. I had meant just to tease at his hole as he had at mine. But the slick tip of my finger entered him, and it was like his body drew me in the rest of the way. I pulled that finger back once and pushed it in again and he spilled without warning into my mouth. I nearly gagged, as the fluid that came forth was far more bitter than I remembered. But it sweetened as his spurts went on, and I licked him clean before I surfaced again.

He appeared to have slept through the whole thing, his lips only barely responsive to mine as I kissed him, wondering what he was dreaming of.

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