Chapter 22: Feed Till Your Heart’s Content

Darius lounged on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, leather pants clinging low on his hips. His bare chest rose and fell with slow breaths, every ridge and valley of muscle catching the low light. Sweat-slicked skin stretched over thick pectorals that flexed with the smallest shift, abs carved deep enough to cast shadows between each block, obliques tapering sharply toward the waistband.

A thin trail of dark hair disappeared beneath the leather, and the whole expanse looked hard enough to bruise a mouth against.

"Crawl over here, my prince," he said, voice low and rough.

Basil dropped to his hands and knees without hesitation. The carpet dragged under his palms as he moved forward, shoulders rolling, spine arched just enough to keep his ass up. Each shift brought him closer until his face hovered near Darius’s spread thighs.

Darius reached down and ruffled Basil’s blonde hair. "Good boy."

The praise sent an inexplicable warmth through him.

"You’ve been a good boy lately." Darius continued, his thumb stroked across Basil’s cheek, then lifted his chin so their eyes met. The look in his eyes made Basil’s pulse stumble. It was raw, hungry, like he wanted to swallow Basil whole.

"For that you deserve a reward."

Basil’s breath hitched. He leaned upward, lips parting, eyes half-lidded.

A smile curved Darius’s lips. "I can see you’re eager for your reward, my prince."

A soft, needy moan slipped out of Basil before he could stop it.

"How do good boys ask for rewards?"

"Please, Master," Basil whispered, voice thin with want. "Please give it to me."

Darius’s mouth curved. "There you go."

He leaned in, closing the distance in one smooth motion, and caught Basil’s lips in a deep, consuming kiss. Their mouths pressed hard, tongues sliding together, teeth grazing. Basil tasted heat and the faint salt of skin. His fingers curled against Darius’s thighs, body straining upward, every nerve lit up from the pressure and the wet slide of Darius’s tongue claiming him.

Abruptly, Darius broke the kiss. Basil whined at the loss, chasing after him.

"Shh. Be patient, my prince. First I have to feed you. You’re hungry, right?"

"Yes, Master," Basil breathed. "Feed me. I’m starving."

Darius’s hand stayed at the back of Basil’s neck, thumb stroking once. "Then use your mouth. Open my trousers."

Basil leaned forward, caught the leather tab between his teeth, and tugged downward. The zipper gave with a slow rasp. Darius watched every movement, eyes dark, chest rising faster. When the leather parted, his cock sprang free and slapped across Basil’s cheek, hot and heavy.

"It looks desperate to feed you, my prince," Darius said, voice thick. "Now suck it, feed from me, my beloved prince."

Basil lunged forward like he’d been starving for days. He took the thick length deep, lips stretching wide, sucking hard from the first pull. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room—slick suction, the soft slap of skin against lips, Basil’s muffled moans vibrating around the shaft. Darius groaned low in his throat, one hand gripping Basil’s hair, hips rolling in shallow thrusts.

"Yeah, like that," Darius rasped. "Feed till your heart’s content, my prince."

Basil moaned louder, sucking harder, spit running down his chin. Darius’s breathing grew ragged, muscles in his stomach jumping. His grip tightened as he started frantically humping upwards. Basil felt a sharp thrill seeing Darius lose control like this, knowing his mouth alone could pull such raw reactions from the dominant man.

"I’m coming—yes, my prince, eat from me," Darius growled, voice breaking as his hips jerked. His cock pulsed, thick ropes of cum spilling over Basil’s tongue. Basil choked awake, coughing as though he had actually swallowed something in real life, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs.

What the fuck?

What kind of insane dream was that?

How in the gods was he dreaming about Darius of all people, and in such a filthy way? The last thing he remembered was lying down while thinking about what he had overheard from the maids. Somehow, that had turned into... whatever the hell that dream had been.

Still coughing, Basil pressed a hand against his throat and swallowed several times, as if he could somehow get rid of the lingering phantom sensation that refused to leave him.

"I have completely lost it."

Maybe he was the crazy one.

This was what happened when a person experienced too much emotional trauma in too short a period of time. His brain was definitely malfunctioning. There was simply no other explanation for why he was having dreams about an infuriating lunatic who had barged into his life and turned everything upside down in less than a day.

Basil squeezed his eyes shut.

Then he felt the uncomfortable hardness straining against his trousers.His eyes immediately flew back open.

"Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me."

xxx

Rowan parked the car and glanced out through the windshield, taking in the surrounding area.

A faint frown appeared on his face.

Why had the prince come here?

He had said they were meeting a friend, but what kind of friend lived in a place like this?

The neighborhood looked rough around the edges. The buildings were old and weathered, their paint peeling from years of neglect. Narrow streets stretched between rows of aging apartment blocks, and the entire area carried an air of quiet danger that made Rowan instinctively more alert. This looked less like the sort of place someone visited to meet a friend and more like the kind of place gangs used as a hideout.

Rowan had heard that the prince had grown up in the poorer districts of the capital, but this was something else entirely. A troubling thought briefly crossed his mind.

He couldn’t actually be involved with a gang, could he?

Was that why he had been so determined to leave the palace without guards? Was that why he had wanted complete privacy?

Rowan immediately pushed the thought aside. No. That was ridiculous.

Probably.

Still, he found himself looking into the rearview mirror.

Darius was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed, looking completely relaxed.

The sight only made Rowan more uneasy.

Either Prince Darius had absolutely no sense of danger, or he was so familiar with this place that he no longer considered it dangerous at all. Neither possibility was particularly reassuring.

"Your Highness," Rowan said. "We’re here."

Darius’s eyes snapped open immediately.

"Finally." He pushed himself upright and reached for the door.

"We need to be quick," he said. "I’ve got to get back to my prince. I can already feel him missing me."

Rowan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Before he could decide, Darius had already opened the door and stepped out.

The prince glanced back at him.

"What are you waiting for? Come on. Get out."

Rowan exited the vehicle and closed the door behind him. His eyes swept across the area once more, instinctively assessing potential threats.

"Oh, before I forget," Darius said casually.

Rowan turned toward him.

"Stay alert. The guys around here can be a little unpredictable. Most of them are harmless, but I’d rather not take chances."

With that, Darius started walking.

Rowan immediately fell into step beside him.