Royals of Ruemri Book I: Betrothal

Chapter 7 - Part 1

RAFFE was initially taken aback by his impulsive action. The moment that his lips met Soren's, he was lost. His head whirled in a puddle of giddy, electrifying chaos. Everything else was a blur. The only things that mattered now were the soft, wet lips pressed against his own, the heated body molding his own hard flesh, and the subtle gasps escaping the faie nestled in his arms.

The kiss was soft, just a press of two awkward lips, a little bit insistent, clumsy, but faintly determined. Spellbound, Raffe took advantage of Soren's little gasp of surprise and pushed his tongue inside the hot void of Soren's mouth, deepening the kiss and earning a soft mewl.

Soren gripped Raffe's hand that was holding his chin and inched a little bit closer. When Soren's other hand found Raffe's hip and a warm hesitant tongue darted from Soren's mouth to taste and clash a little bit of Raffe's, the prince hummed in appreciation. He moved his hand that was clutched onto Soren's hair—he always wanted to touch his hair— and placed it in the small of Soren's back, tugging him closer. Skin against skin. Heat against heat.

It lasted a second, an eternity, that one unplanned kiss, and it spoke silent volumes of bewilderment from both of them.

They were both panting when they pulled apart. Raffe's ragged breath was hitching against his throat while Soren's lips turned swollen and red, like his cheeks and his chest and his neck. The striking contrast brought out the shine in the faie's wide blue eyes. Raffe licked his lower lip slowly, wondering if he could taste that sweetness again, feeling it melt on his tongue.

He bit back a groan and gave himself a mental shake.

This—whatever this was—this wasn't in his plans.

"You kissed me," Soren gasped while controlling his breathing, repeating the words to make himself believe what just happened. He took a little step back but Raffe's hand on his back forced him to remain where he was. "Wh...Why...?" he rasped, blinking away the confusion.

"I wish I knew," Raffe confessed, his gaze fixated on Soren's enticing lips. Despite blinking repeatedly in an attempt to dispel the lustful haze, his eyes were drawn back to that alluring mouth, tempting and disarming his rational thoughts.

"We're not supposed to do that," Soren mumbled, his breath mingling with Raffe's.

When Soren's gaze drifted to Raffe's lips again and a pink tongue came to wet his own, the little sliver of Raffe's control dissolved into nothingness and he was kissing Soren again, savoring him, swallowing his little moans.

Fuck, the sounds he was making, he thought.

Little whimpers and hitched breaths and soft growls of pleasure.

The scent of fresh apples mingling thick in his nostrils with faie musk and the pressure of heated flesh against his lips and tongue nearly undid Raffe. He hooked his arms under Soren's armpits and hoist him up. The faie's arms swiftly clutched his bare shoulders and his legs wrapped around Raffe's hips. His mouth, moist and eager, hummed against Raffe's, hungry to taste and be tasted. Raffe wasn't going to complain. He never planned to, in fact. His hands settled in wandering absently on Soren's smooth and scar-free back, cupping that marvelous ass when it went lower. Soren gasped softly against his mouth and the prince hummed back. When Raffe's fingers caressed Soren's crease, the faie sucked in a sharp breath and went rigid.

Cocooned inside the prince's arms, Soren laid two palms on Raffe's chest and pulled away. "Oh Aura," he muttered. If Raffe wasn't this close to him, he might not have heard it at all. "Put me down. Now. Please," he whispered with a shaky breath.

Raffe blinked but complied.

"You're not supposed to do that again," Soren whispered after regaining his composure, going limp and slumping his head on Raffe's shoulder.

Raffe allowed himself a little grin. "You kissed me back, though," he said, as a matter of fact, feeling a little triumphant about that tiny splinter of a feat.

Soren just huffed, looked up, and rolled his eyes when he saw Raffe's grin. "Yeah, well, I'm not supposed to do that either."

They stayed like that for a few seconds before a little thought swirled back to Raffe's head and he broke off into a smirk. "You..." he started, savoring the words as it rolled on his tongue. "You kiss like a virgin, Your Highness."

Soren flinched and went comically rigid in Raffe's arms. "No use denying it. I knew the moment you hesitated to kiss me back and lick the inside of my—oww!" he yelped when Soren pinched his ass cheek.

"Shut up, boob, or I'll freeze that tongue."

Arching one eyebrow, Raffe asked, genuinely curious, "You can do that?"

"I can try," Soren answered immediately. "If my beloved insists so, especially if he's downright trying to piss me off. Surely I won't deny him the privilege of being the first one to experience the extent of my skills."

With narrowed eyes, he slowly pulled away from Raffe.

"You always piss me off, though," Raffe emphasized. "Why do things turn brutal when it comes to you?"

"Because I like to piss people off. I don't like to be pissed off."

Raffe snorted.

Long strands of Soren's golden hair cascaded over his face, tracing the contours of his smooth, fair skin as he reached for his clothes. Raffe observed the difference in their body hair, noting Soren's lack thereof, especially in his groin, in stark contrast to Raffe's own dark curls that tapered below his navel. He wondered if it was another trait specific to faie, but refrained from asking. Instead, he lingered, silently absorbing the captivating sight before him as though he'd been deprived of water for far too long. Bathed in the moonlight, Soren appeared almost otherworldly to Raffe, who wrestled to suppress the sudden stirrings of arousal building within him.

This, again, he thought, shaking his head, overwhelmed, wasn't in my plans either.