Chapter 23

LOUNGED ON HISornate canopy bed, legs tangled in sheets of bronze silk, Nero looked to be the very picture of relaxation as he listened to March struggle to complete his nighttime routine with a borrowed toothbrush and little else. But he was tense, thoughts racing through his brain with bitter resentment.

The duke's insult seemed very far away and unimportant now as he imagined if, god forbid, March had been in his room when the fire had started. Even as his thoughts barely brushed the surface of the idea, his heart began hammering in his chest. Clenching his fists, he took a deep breath, willing himself to calm.

But he hadn't been, he reminded himself, straining his ears once again to hear water running in the sink. March was fine. He was hurting on the inside, but objects could be replaced. He hoped he could find some way to replace the sentimentality of the gift Amalie and Roman had given him. He would discuss it with them shortly.

Finally emerging from the bathroom, March looked marginally better than he had when he'd gone in. Dressed in an oversized shirt he'd borrowed from Nero to sleep in, with his lashes concealing his eyes, he somehow looked smaller and more fragile than normal.

"Feeling any better?" Nero asked.

"A little bit," March said. "Even though your bathroom lacks even the most basic facilities required to groom one's self."

Nero snorted. If he felt well enough to complain, then the tears had been spent. "I'll take you into town tomorrow so you can buy all the crap you need to fill the space on my counter."

"Well, at least one of us would be using it." As March strolled to the center of the room to join him on the bed, Nero's eyes were drawn to where the hem of the nightshirt only brushed to mid-thigh. When the noble noticed, he tugged at it in a futile attempt to cover more of his legs. "You did this on purpose."

"I didn't," Nero corrected him, but tilted his head in appreciation of the view. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to enjoy it."

"Surely you have a pair of pants that are suitable for sleeping in."

He had several. "I don't think so. I sleep naked, remember?"

March rolled his eyes as he carefully maneuvered onto the bed, keeping his gaze locked to the corner of the room. "I remember." The memory of the prince's sleekly muscled body had popped into his mind at many inopportune moments since he'd seen it.

"Glad to have made an impression," Nero said. His voice was light, unbothered, but the gripping terror he'd felt when imagining the worst possible outcome of the fire seemed to roar to life inside him again. "March. Come here, please. Let me hold you."

Because he didn't recognize the sudden woeful urgency in Neroki's voice, and it frightened him a little, March didn't hesitate to scoot into a position where the prince could embrace him tightly. Swallowing, he raised his arms as much as Neroki's tight grip on him would allow, and stroked at whatever skin he could reach, hoping to comfort.

"It's okay," he said softly, realizing he'd never been on this side of the position before. He felt Nero shake his head in disagreement against his neck, spreading damp streaks across his skin.

"Are you crying?" March asked, shocked.

"A little." His voice was rough with emotion. "Sorry."

Feeling like his heart would burst from his chest, March shifted, pulling his arms out of the prince's grip so he could wrap them around him, stroking down his thick waves of hair. "You don't have to be sorry."

"If something happened to you, I don't know what I would do, March."

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm right here."

"I can't even think about losing you. It scares the hell out of me."

Nodding, March pressed his cheek to the top of Nero's head, holding him closer. "That's the last thing you need to worry about. I promise."

Heaving a deep inhale, Nero leaned back a little, enough that he could swipe the back of his arm across his eyes. "I'm not really a crier, you know."

"I know. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I'm not," Nero said honestly. "It doesn't embarrass me. It's just that it's rare for me to care so much about anything. You're really… So important to me now, March."

Deeply moved, March pushed through the nerves crackling in him to gently cup his fingers on the sides of Nero's face, dipping his mouth down to the prince's. Timidly at first, then with increasing confidence as Nero's lips echoed his movements, March hoped he could give a fraction of the pleasure and comfort that Nero had given him so many times over.

"I think that's the first time you've ever kissed me," Nero noted, impossibly charmed by the familiar shyness that radiated from the noble's eyes at the observation. Love and lust bubbled up inside him like a geyser, tangling up his thoughts.

"Well, you've had a lot more practice at it than I have."

"Don't worry, we'll get you caught up."

"I appreciate your willingness to teach me, but don't forget that I'm a perfectionist. I won't settle for anything less than flawless execution."

"March." Again, Nero's voice had changed drastically, in only the span of a heartbeat.

"Yes?" Almost cautiously, the raven-haired male tried searching the amber depths of the prince's intense eyes, but found the language in them frustratingly unreadable.

"I… I've been wanting to wait, but I don't think I can anymore."

So that was it, March thought, unsure which emotion swirled the strongest inside him. Pulse racing, he squeezed his eyes closed. He'd known it somewhere, in the most secret part of his heart. All Neroki had to do was ask him, and he would give himself willingly. The fear in his chest was like an ember, but he trusted the prince completely.

"It's okay," March heard his own words as if from very far away. "I knew you would ask. You've been so patient with me."

"I didn't want to scare you," Nero admitted. "But it's just that I love you so much. I need it to be real. I need you to belong to me."

Breath catching a little in his throat, March nodded. "I know. I love you, too. So much."

"My plan was to wait until the end of the season my father asked you for, so I regret to say I don't have anything to give you yet. But I will. Soon."

"It's fine," March said, comforting automatically before realizing he didn't quite understand the meaning of Neroki's words. Then when the prince shifted away from him, moving to the floor next to the bed, kneeling on one knee, his mind went blank, heart pounding like an earthquake in his chest.

"Oh," he realized belatedly. Eyes wide, he felt his hands tremble as he brought them to his mouth, hoping to suppress the sob he could feel building up in his chest.

"We haven't known each other as long as it takes some people, so I know it's going to seem crazy to everyone else. But I know that you're all I want. You're all I'm ever going to want." Not without difficulty, Nero reached up, taking March's hands away from his own face, and clenching them in his. "I know I can be brainless, and I almost always say the wrong thing. But I'll be a good husband to you. If I do anything wrong, you can just nag me until I get it right. You're so very good at that."

Laughing a little weakly, March sniffled. "I wouldn't have to do it so much if you weren't so rude and lazy."

"I know," Nero said. Keeping his eyes locked on March's, he brought the raven-haired male's knuckles to his lips, kissing the skin there so gently it was as if a butterfly had brushed over him. Then turning it, he pressed his lips to the palm. "Please marry me, March. I want to spend my life with you, and I can't wait to start."

"Oh, Neroki." Overwhelmed, he could hardly think. "Yes, of course I will."

He hadn't expected to be turned down, but still, he felt as light as air when March sprang off the bed, collapsing into his arms. "I'm going to make you so happy. I swear."

"You already do," March said, letting out a lofty sigh when their mouths crushed together in a deeply passionate kiss. Neroki's lips were impatient on his, his fingers teeming with frenzy as they roamed over the noble's face, so March was surprised when he vaulted up from their position on the floor, and began pacing wildly.

With his body practically vibrating with excitement, Nero stalked to the window. "My father's going to be beside himself with joy. We'll have to tell him tomorrow. And we'll have to go to Kesmos to tell your family as well." As if he couldn't stand to stay in one place for more than a moment, he turned on his heel, moving to another side of the room. "I can't imagine how they'll react. But I'll prove myself to them, March, especially your motra. Don't worry about that. You won't have to feel ashamed to have me as your husband."

Raising himself up and back onto the bed, March's eyes chased the prince from spot to spot, where he was practically talking to himself now. The ember of fear that had burned in his chest was long gone. He'd never been so sure about any decision in his life. This was where he belonged, and who he belonged with. There wasn't an ounce of doubt about that.

"And I'll be a good vatra to our children. I'm too much of a moron now, I know, but just give me a few years. I want a family with you, March. Even if our kids are all as stuck-up and fussy as you."

Feeling very much like he were in the most wonderful dream he'd ever had, March smiled. "Or as arrogant and smug as you."

"That, too." Pacing back to the window, Nero covered his face with his hands for a second, letting out an amazed laugh. "I can't believe I'm actually going to marry you. This is crazy. You're my everything."

"I love you, Neroki."

"God, I love you, too. I can't wait to…" He'd turned, finally, to face the raven-haired male again. "March." The name came tumbling out, reverently.

Trembling a little, March took a deep breath, tossing the nightshirt he'd removed aside. Because he knew his hands would instinctively move to cover himself, he took great care to keep them limp at his sides as Neroki's wide eyes moved over his bare form.

Surprised by the alarm that flooded through him at the sight, Nero forced himself to tear his gaze up away from the most delectably perfect body he'd ever seen, to where March's colorful eyes were radiating pure and absolute trust.

"You don't… We don't have to do this now. This isn't why I proposed to you."

"Don't you think I know that?" March asked softly. As nervous as he was, the sight of Neroki's obvious internal war amused him somewhat. "You've never pushed me. Not really. But the pressure I'm feeling right now is from inside me, not from you."

Crossing the room, Nero took March's hands in his again. "If you're feeling like that, we can do something else. I'm okay with waiting until we're married, I told you. I know that's what you've always imagined."

Shaking his head slowly, March slipped his arms around the prince's neck, pulling him into a soft, chaste kiss. "That's true, but I never imagined I could love someone so much, and want to belong to them so much. Make love to me, Neroki. I need you."

Shuddering a little, Nero pressed his face to the noble's dark hair, willing every ounce of control he'd ever possessed to return to him.

"I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

"I know you will. I'm not worried about that." So saying, he let his fingers drift down Nero's shoulders to the buttons of his shirt. With deft, meticulous precision, he undid them, pushing the garment up and off the prince's arms so it slithered to the ground. Gently laying his hand on Nero's chest, he could feel the heart there pounding against his fingers.

"You're as nervous as I am," March noted, lips curving at the realization. It made it more bearable somehow.

"Absolutely." Nudging the noble's arms back up and around his neck, he let his fingertips trace light touches over the newly bared flesh before carefully turning and lowering him to the bed. March's skin seemed to hold a dim glow, so pale against the deep bronze of the bedsheets. "I swear there is no one on this earth as beautiful as you."

Though deeply flattered, March shook his head. "That's very subjective. And you're pretty beautiful yourself, you know."

Smirking a bit, Nero chuckled as he unsnapped his pants, peeling them off without flourish. "Glad you feel that way, sweetheart."

March let out a soft sigh when Nero lowered himself to the bed as well, bringing their mouths together. He was mesmerized by the feeling of Neroki's lips on his, exhilarated by the tip of his tongue tracing lines on his, and tormented by the feather light touches of his fingertips.

A light growl sounded from Nero's throat as he stroked over March's body, sending muscles quivering all over. He imagined the noble's body like a pool of water, rippling at even the lightest tough, rising to meet him. His fingers slipped up the pale, trembling torso to brush lightly over the raven-haired male's nipples, nearly undone by how his body arched in welcome.

Moaning helplessly, March realized he'd never felt pleasure like this. Always overwhelmed by the need inside him, clawing at him, he'd only ever pushed it away in fear, or begged Neroki to end it quickly and spare him the torture. But this was so different. His nerve endings sang, as if he were being pelted with the lightest wash of warm rain. It was the sweetest sensation he knew he could never begin to describe. When Neroki's mouth left his to trail down his throat, lingering at one of his nipples, he could only let out another moan.

The demanding need to possess that Nero had experienced from their very first meeting had drained from him, leaving him with only the need to pleasure, soothe, and seduce. Dragging his fingers over March's hips, toying with the lines there, he let the tip of his tongue out to nudge the pink bud. When the raven-haired male let out a keening whine, Nero knew he was becoming lost in a flood of sensations. Exactly where he wanted him.

Nero dragged his heated lips down March's torso, scraping his teeth over a pale hipbone before giving it a quick peck of a kiss. Keeping his caress gentle, he let his hands skim up March's thighs, nearly salivating at the feeling of the slender muscles there quivering with suppressed need. The closer his fingers drifted to the stiff arousal, the more unsteady March's breaths became, eventually dissolving into catchy panting.

"Neroki."

"Getting impatient, sweetheart?"

"I want…"

"Yes?" Nero gripped March's cock in his hand, laving his tongue over the slippery head, circling it.

March cried out, shaking his head in denial as the dreamy warmth within him gave way to sudden, staggering heat. He writhed, unsure whether he wanted to struggle away from it or toward it.

Nearly delirious with the need to see his new fiancé overtaken by pleasure, Nero slipped his hands under March's body, long fingers squeezing the sensitive flesh of his ass. He felt the noble's fingers tangle in his hair, felt him buck his hips, desperate for more contact as his cock was teased and licked and suckled.

When again the pretty noble shook his head to refuse the molten flood of pleasure bubbling up inside him, eyes wide with frantic denial, Nero thought if he hadn't already fallen desperately in love, this sight alone would have done it. Because he couldn't bear the thought of not seeing his skin flush pink and his pretty lips open to let out delighted moans, Nero eased back, replacing his mouth with his hand.

"Just let it happen," he murmured, stroking a firm, consistent pace. "You don't have to hold back."

As if the words had unlocked the final floodgate inside him, March cried out, spine arching as bolts of pleasure stabbed through him. "Neroki."

Shuddering, as though the noble's pleasure echoed in his own core, Nero felt similarly breathless as March's seed spurted out in his fingers. When it ended, the pretty male's muscles going lax again, pooling on the bed like warm wax, Nero settled on top of him, relishing how damp and hot the pale skin was.

Though his limbs felt heavy, as if he were underwater, March lifted his hands to stroke up and down over Neroki's lean back, practically purring. Wondering how he could feel so exhausted and yet so energized, he brought the prince's lips to his once again. Unable to ignore the persistent prodding of the engorged cock against the inside of his thigh, March shivered. "Aren't you going to…"

"Not yet."

Again using hands and mouth to batter the noble's senses, Nero felt the chain of his control beginning to slip. Molding slim hips in his hands, he could hardly believe how little effort it had taken to have the virginal male's cock twitching with renewed interest.

"Neroki," March moaned again, fingers clutching helplessly at silk sheets. "Now, please. Please." He was fully hard again, and already straining toward another release. Unsure of when Nero had managed to grab it, March felt a cool tube press into his heated thigh. "Do you have… I mean, do we need protection?"

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've had the shot."

With a grateful nod, March sucked his lower lip between his teeth as his thighs were nudged apart. Despite everything they'd already done, he couldn't help feeling slightly exposed as Nero settled between his legs, pushing his knees up toward his chest. Inhaling a shaky breath, he reminded himself that this was his future husband hovering over him. Someone that cherished him, and loved him more deeply than he'd ever thought he would be loved.

"Are you okay?" Nero asked lowly, coating his fingers with the slick substance from the tube.

"I'm okay," March answered. He jolted a bit at the cold, slippery touch that brushed over him, unable to suppress a light gasp. "It's okay," he reiterated at Neroki's concerned look. "Just keep going."

Wincing almost imperceptibly, he took slow and deep breaths as he was breached carefully and gingerly. The hot stretch of his tight flesh was new, unlike anything he'd felt, but the gentle pace made it bearable, even pleasant, as his slick muscles were rubbed from inside.

"You're perfect," Nero murmured in praise, turning his head a bit to kiss March's pale calf where it rested on his shoulder. "You're doing so well." When Neroki's fingers brushed something inside him that had stars exploding behind his eyes, he could only let out a whine that ended on a moan.

"Oh." Blinking rapidly, March tried to reassemble his shattered thoughts, but found it nearly impossible as Neroki's fingers stroked around that ultra-sensitive spot with brutal precision. Because all he could think was that he needed more, he couldn't help but squirm, all but arching and begging to get the prince's fingers deeper in him.

"Neroki," he whined. "I'm ready."

Smirking, Nero shook his head at the noble's demanding tone.

"What would you know about being ready?"

What seemed like ages later, when Neroki finally slipped his fingers out, March felt his pulse begin to pick up again, racing with excitement and trepidation. When he felt Neroki's hard member press against his slicked entrance, he could only nod wordlessly, letting his eyelids flutter closed as his thighs were grasped and pinned up against his torso.

Gritting his teeth, the prince once again gathered every ounce of control he'd ever possessed, struggling not to let greed overtake him and make him plunge inside. Nearly dizzy with his own grinding need, he flicked his eyes up March's face, where the noble's brow was furrowed. Smoothing a thumb over the line there, Nero let out a choked whisper. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts."

"It's okay," March assured him softly. "Just go slow."

When he was fully eased inside, Nero lowered himself down onto March, capturing his lips in a kiss, hoping the distraction would help give the noble's body time to adjust to him. March's fingers carded into his thick waves of sun-streaked hair, pressing him closer, as if he couldn't stand there to be anything between them.

With as much care as he could possibly exude, Nero shifted a bit, testingly. When March gasped into his ear, a gasp of pleasure, he groaned a little in his throat. He could feel the noble pulsing around him as vividly as he could feel hands stroking down his back. As March's hips began arching up to meet his gentle thrusts, throbbing muscles squeezing him each time he stroked that bundle of nerves deep inside, he thought this had to be something like dying.

With his head thrown back, March panted for air, nails digging into Neroki's shoulders. Sensations were layering too quickly now for him to separate one from the next as the prince sent pleasure spiraling through him with every thrust.

The tension within him rose to a point Nero knew he could no longer prolong, March's body gripping him so tightly it was as if the noble wanted the shape of his cock permanently imprinted inside him. Knowing he was close, Nero covered the pretty noble's mouth with his own so their tongues could slide together in a frenzied sort of dance, and so he could swallow all of March's sweetly urgent moans.

Overwhelmed, March could feel the tell-tale grinding in his lower abdomen and knew he was done for. "Neroki, I'm…"

"You can come for me, sweetheart. I love you so much."

Neroki's voice in his ear seemed to crash through him, tumbling him over the edge. Moaning helplessly, he could only hold onto the prince's shoulders as his nerve endings throbbed, and hot seed splashed up between them to streak Neroki's firm stomach. Digging his fingers into the noble's hips, Nero burrowed himself into the clenching pleasure as deeply as he could, groaning as he pumped out his hot release.

Pressing his face into March's throat, Nero let out a satisfied growl while his pounding heart slowed its intense pace. The raven-haired male's eyes were half-lidded with sleepy satisfaction, his skin flushed and rosy. Though he would have liked nothing better than to wallow with his new fiancé, Nero knew there was bound to be some physical discomfort. Easing back gently, he rolled to the side, pulling March's body with him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, holding the noble tightly, letting his fingers stroke sweet circles over whatever skin he could reach.

"More than okay," March promised softly, nuzzling into him. "I'll remember this night for the rest of my life."

"If you ever start to forget, let me know, and I'd be happy to provide a reenactment. Just in case."

Chuckling lightly, March could only shake his head. "I really do love you."

NO MATTER HOWlittle he slept, March's body was conditioned to wake at dawn. The morning after the most amazing night of his life was, apparently, no exception. Untangling himself from the blankets, he inhaled sharply at the ache in his hips. He wasn't surprised. He'd slept tangled in Neroki's arms for a few hours, only for them both to wake with hot, achy need pumping inside them, coming together again in the deepest part of the night.

After splashing his face with water in the bathroom, he eyed his clothes from the day before with a wrinkled nose. There was no helping it, he'd have to wear them again. Sleeping in Neroki's clothing was fine, but he wouldn't wear something so ill-fitting in public where he could be seen. It was distasteful, but bearable. They could buy him more clothing in town, like they'd planned.

Tiptoeing through the room, he gasped in surprise when the prince reached out for him, gripping his wrist lightly. "Where are you going?" His voice was gruff, still half-asleep.

"Just taking a short walk. I'll be back before you even wake up."

"Hurry back to me." Nero turned over, pulling March's head down for a kiss. Though they'd both intended it to be a simple, soft meeting of lips, it drew out, deepening until they were both panting lightly as they pulled apart. "I mean it," Nero said. "I'll be lonely without you."

Surprised that his heart didn't simply burst from his chest, March gave a nod, promising to come back shortly. Was this really his life, he wondered, resisting the urge to swoon as he slipped out of Neroki's bedroom into the pale light of the morning. They'd had sex twice already, and he could still taste the prince's desire for him clearly and blatantly on his lips.

He was sad that he'd lost his bow, yearning for its familiar weight in his hands for a moment, before sighing at himself. He'd been given so much, so much that he'd never expected, he could hardly mourn too fervently for an object that could, eventually, be replaced.

Breathing in the fresh air, he let his gaze fall on the summer bright flowers along the path, marveling that they looked more vivid and colorful than they had the day before. Perhaps all of the adages about love were true. Would his life seem brighter, more colorful, more musical now? Would he find himself sighing at romantic clichés?

He'd never been particularly thrilled about the idea of planning a wedding. He'd wanted one, certainly, an expensive one with snowy white accents and fresh flowers. But he'd thought it to be an awful lot of work for just one ceremony, one party where you could show off to your friends and family that you'd been deemed worthy enough to procure a suitable spouse.

Shaking his head at his younger self, he pressed his fingers to his mouth to hide his smile. How silly he'd been. How utterly ignorant. The thought of planning his wedding, a royal wedding at that, had joy building up inside him until he thought he could burst, right there in the castle gardens.

And as his head danced with visions of what he would wear, what Neroki would wear, and what they would say to each other, he was grabbed from behind. Panic geysered through him, a scream beginning to rip through his throat. A hand over his mouth muffled the scream, another hand slamming into the side of his head with brutal precision. The world around him went black as his body collapsed limply into the arms of his attacker.