Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Twelve

Piotr ushered the guests out of the Presidential suite, and Jordan flopped into his chair. “I think that went well.” Another contract was in the bag, and it was only the first day of negotiations.

His father poured them both a glass of water. “While we are alone, I would like to talk to you.” When Jordan arched his eyebrows, the king laughed. “Don’t appear so worried. You are not in trouble. Far from it.” He took a drink. “I was proud to have you at my side today.”

Jordan’s chest swelled, and he raised his chin high. “That pleases me, Father.”

“I haven’t spoken before now about the last day of the New York visit, but I am curious. I trust the visit to the… bar was successful?”

Something fluttered deep in his belly. He hadn’t expected his father to mention it. “Yes. I enjoyed the experience.” He wasn’t about to tell the king he’d loved every second of it, mostly because of the man who had taken him there.

King Ludomir nodded. “And have you found similar places to visit here?” When Jordan stared at him, the king smiled. “I didn’t suppose one such visit would satisfy you. And I felt sure you would have done your research.” His eyes twinkled.

Jordan recovered from his shock. “I didn’t need to. Stuart told me about a couple of bars he could take me to. With your permission, of course.”

His father waved. “It is given.” He tilted his head to one side. “Your attitude toward Mr. Whitmore appears much improved. Could it be that he is a good influence on you?” That twinkle was still evident.

“I enjoy his company.”

King Ludomir smiled. “You certainly seemed to enjoy his dancing skills. He was a much better dancer than he’d implied. By the way, you caused a sensation at the ball. As soon as you’d left, the questions began.”

Jordan stilled. “From whom?”

“A journalist who was there to cover the event. After your dance with Mr. Whitmore, she asked if we could talk.” He bit his lip. “Frankly, I was not prepared for the conversation.”

Jordan’s curiosity was piqued. “What did she want to discuss?”

“She wanted to know about the rights of—let me get this right—LGBTQI citizens in Elloria.”

Jordan blinked. “What did you say?”

“That all Ellorians enjoy the right to peace, prosperity and happiness. That as far as I know, no one was in need of protection from discrimination.” He pursed his lips. “But I must admit, the conversation raised questions in my mind.”

Jordan couldn’t believe they were having this discussion. It was something he’d never imagined possible. “What kind of questions?”

“My knowledge in this area is sadly lacking, and it should not be so.” He frowned. “The king should be aware of everything that affects his subjects. So I have made a decision. When we return home, I will commission a study, and the people will have their opportunity to speak.” He paused. “I had thought of putting you in charge.”

Jordan stiffened. “Me?”

“Who better? The community should know they have a champion, and I don’t believe you mean to hide your sexuality.” He aimed an inquiring glance at Jordan.

He straightened in his chair and squared his shoulders. “No, I don’t. But only because of how you have treated me during the last two weeks.” It was time for honesty. “Before this visit I was afraid, I can admit that now. I didn’t know if you would accept me.” He gazed in admiration at his father. “But you changed that in New York.”

“And I did so because of your champion—Mr. Whitmore.”

Warmth flooded through him to have his speculation confirmed.

The king cleared his throat. “Jordan, do not expect a ground swell of positivity in Elloria. You will encounter dissent, of that I am certain. To expect otherwise would be both unreasonable and unrealistic. But perhaps when the owners of those dissenting voices see that you have the king’s support, things will go more smoothly. And by the time I am ready to step down, the people will be accustomed to the idea of a gay king.”

The prospect filled him with elation, but what mattered most to Jordan was that his father was coming around to the idea.

“But enough of the future. Let us speak of now. Do you have plans for LA?”

“A few, some of which I will need to discuss with you.” Maybe this was the perfect time to bring up parasailing, while his father was in such a positive frame of mind.

“Then let’s discuss them, by all means.” The king’s eyes were warm. “Get the most out of your visit. Enjoy it—now that you have stopped fighting Mr. Whitmore.” His lips twitched.

Jordan flushed. “I did treat him poorly at first, didn’t I?”

The king laughed. “The way you looked at him in the library… I think ‘poorly’ is an understatement.” He got up from his chair. “And now I shall see if your mother is recovered from her headache.” His eyes gleamed. “I have an idea for this afternoon to make her smile. I would invite you too, but I don’t think shopping on Rodeo Drive would be your idea of a good time.”

Jordan bit his lip. “You know me so well, Father.” He stood as the king left the room, and sank back into his chair. The conversation had been a revelation. What was evident was that his father held Stuart in high esteem.

He was in Jordan’s thoughts most of his waking hours.

I came here with a goal, and I haven’t achieved it yet.

Inviting Drake to his hotel room had been the last resort, but Stuart had been right. It was risky. I picked Drake because of his looks. He had been a handsome man in his forties, with a broad chest, piercing blue eyes, and a beard flecked with gray.

Jordan didn’t need a knowledge of psychology to know he had chosen Drake because he looked like Stuart.

He is a professional. He will never be more than a fantasy, no matter how badly I want him. And Jordan had certainly fantasized about him. The first night in LA, he’d lain in his bed, conscious for the first time that a few doors away, Stuart could have been lying naked beneath a single sheet. That powerful body had never been far from his thoughts after their swim together. It only took a slight leap of the imagination to picture what lay hidden beneath Stuart’s swim trunks, except Jordan wanted to do more than imagine.

He wanted to touch, to kiss, caress… lick.

Jordan wasn’t bold enough to walk into Stuart’s bedroom and slip beneath the sheets beside him. But he ached to show Stuart how he truly felt. If I was going to lose my virginity to any man, I would want it to be him.

What he needed was a plan to steer him closer to his goal, and it would require small steps.

And he already had an idea of what that initial step would be.

Jordan stood on the patio, gazing up at the velvet night sky dusted with stars. A gentle breeze played among the palm trees, and perfume filled the air. As he watched, a bright dot streaked across the heavens, and his heart pounded.

Make a wish.

“It’s late,” Stuart commented as he joined Jordan. He stood beside him, inhaling deeply. “I love the smell of jasmine.”

At least part of Jordan’s wish had come true—the only thing better would have been if Stuart had strolled out naked. “It’s heavenly.” Except Jordan wasn’t referring to the scent.

“I’ve been thinking about tomorrow. What would you like to do?”

“I leave that up to you. Surprise me.”

Stuart widened his eyes. “What—no suggestions?”

Jordan didn’t think Stuart would react positively to the idea of spending the day in bed, teaching him how to pleasure a man. One man in particular.

He knew of one surefire way to get Stuart’s attention, however.

“Maybe there is one activity I have missed during the last few days.” His heart raced, and his breathing quickened.

“And what’s that?”

Jordan grinned. “Poking the bear.” He jabbed at Stuart’s chest with his finger. “There. I’ve poked him.”

Stuart narrowed his gaze. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He did it again.

“Because I don’t like it.”

“Really?” Poke. “Am I being annoying?” Poke.

“Jordan…” The note of warning in Stuart’s voice sent his heartbeat into overdrive.

“At least you didn’t say Your Highness.” Poke.

Stuart grabbed his hand. “Do that again, and you know where it will lead.”

His skin grew hot, and something fluttered in his chest. Warmth spread outward from his groin. “And what if… I wanted it to lead in that direction?” Then he broke off, swallowing.

I can’t do this.

The sudden cessation of flirtatious behavior brought Stuart to a halt. “What is it?”

Jordan bit his lip and rubbed his hands down the sides of his pants. “Nothing.”

The outright lie only deepened his concern. “Tell me. How can I help if you won’t share with me? I thought we’d talked about this.”

“Am I weird?” Jordan blurted out.

Stuart froze. “Excuse me?”

“I must be, because when you spanked me—I liked it.”

“I know.”

Jordan gaped at him. “How could you—oh. You noticed.”

Stuart nodded. “And now for the part that might shock you. You’re not weird. Lots of people like to be spanked.”

“Really?” Jordan gave him an incredulous stare.

“Really. On a purely biological level, the pain creates a rush of endorphins, and that in turn creates pleasure. Blood rushes to your—” He grinned. “Well, you already know that part. Spanking can be a very erotic activity.” And owning up to liking it was a huge step. I am so proud of you.

Jordan’s eyes were locked on his. “Would you… would you spank me again?”

Stuart’s chest tightened, and his heart hammered. I should say no. I should walk away, now. Because this would not be punishment.

No, it’s something Jordan wants. Something he needs.

“Yes.” The word fell from his lips before he could rein it in. His pulse quickened, and adrenaline flooded through him. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

I want this too.

Stuart took Jordan by the hand and led him into the bedroom, then closed the door behind them. He sat on the couch at the foot of the bed, his knees apart. “You know the drill.”

Jordan shivered, but he lay across Stuart’s lap, his hands on the floor. Stuart grasped Jordan’s belt. “You tell me when you want me to stop, okay?” Jordan nodded, and Stuart began as he had done before, settling into a rhythm as he alternated between ass cheeks.

Except this time was different.

“Let me hear you,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

Jordan let out a soft moan. “Please, keep going.”

“Not stopping yet.” He sped up, his hands landing with a dull thud on Jordan’s ass, pausing to rub now and then, his smacks punctuated by Jordan’s soft whimpers and other noises.

“Stop.”

Stuart came to a halt. “Have you had enough?”

Without a word Jordan stood. He walked around the bed, his fingers fumbling as he unfastened his belt.

Time seemed to slow down. “What are you doing?”

Jordan said nothing, but pulled the belt free of its loops and tossed it to the floor. Then he popped the button on his waistband, lowered the zipper, and shoved his pants down to his knees. He bent over, his elbows on the bed, and raised his head to look at Stuart. “Now keep going.”

Stuart tried not to stare at the white cotton stretched across Jordan’s firm cheeks, the dark shadow of his crack showing through the taut fabric, the little hollow at the base of his spine, which then swelled into the curve of his ass.

“Jordan…” The word came out as a croak.

Jordan stared at him. “Do it. Please.”

Stuart sat beside him on the bed, stroking him gently. Then he delivered a sharp upward smack, and the sound was so much louder as his palm connected with flesh not covered by fabric.

Jordan winced with the impact, then shuddered. “More.”

Stuart got back into his stride, continuing as before, only now he could make out the blossom of red spreading out beneath Jordan’s briefs and over the crease where ass met thigh. He loved the noises that poured from Jordan’s lips, the whimpers, the soft cries…

“Stuart… Please…”

He stopped. “What do you need?” Jordan reached back, grabbed his briefs, and shimmied them over his hips, revealing his bare ass, and Stuart’s breathing hitched. “Jordan… I can’t do this.”

Jordan twisted again to look him in the eye. “But you want to, don’t you? I can feel it. AndI want you to. You have no idea how much I want you to. Please, Stuart. I need to feel your hand on me.” He tilted his ass and reached under him, pushing his solid cock into view. He tugged on it. “Please. Don’t leave me like this. I’m so hard.”

Stuart couldn’t ignore the entreaty in his voice. “Okay.” He knelt behind Jordan and helped him out of his pants and briefs. “These will only get in the way.” Then he retook his position on the bed beside Jordan, spat into his hand and brought it to Jordan’s dick, curling his fingers around the rigid shaft. It was warm and firm in his hand.

Jordan let out a low moan, and a shudder rippled through him. “Oh God, yes.” He spread his legs wide, his ass even higher.

That first erotic slap of hand on flesh was loud in the quiet bedroom, and Jordan hissed. Stuart stilled, and Jordan contorted himself to stare at him. “Keep going. Please.”

“Let’s change things up a bit.”

Stuart sat on the corner of the bed, and tugged Jordan until he lay across his knee. With one hand he spanked him, blow after blow, pausing now and again to caress the reddening globes, and with the other, he worked Jordan’s cock. Then he settled into a new rhythm.

Smack. Tug. Smack. Tug. Smack. Tug, until Jordan was writhing in his lap, and Stuart’s fingers were sticky with pre-cum.

“You need to tell me when you’re getting close.”

Jordan groaned. “I’m almost there now.” Both cheeks were a rosy red.

“Then let me finish you off.” Stuart sucked on a finger, getting it as wet as possible. Then he slid it between Jordan’s cheeks, feeling his pucker contract as he brushed over it.

“Yes. Do it,” Jordan demanded, tensing.

“Breathe,” Stuart told him. “Relax.” As Jordan complied, Stuart slowly slid his finger into that tight little hole.

“Oh.” Jordan trembled, his body tightening even further around Stuart’s finger.

Stuart gave his ass cheek a tap, then eased out of him, only to sink back in, landing another smack. Jordan’s body opened up for him, and when his shivers multiplied, Stuart knew they were there.

“Stuart…”

He gave a couple of tugs on Jordan’s dick, and warmth creamed his hand.

Jordan cried out, and Stuart muffled the sound with his hand. He scooped the prince into his arms and held him, cradling him throughout the little shocks that rippled through him, until at last the tremors had passed and Jordan was still, his head against Stuart’s chest.

Jordan started shaking, and Stuart realized with a shock that he was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

Jordan craned his neck to gaze up at Stuart. “And I thought I wasn’t in the slightest bit kinky.”

Stuart laughed. “Yeah. That is kinda funny.” Holding Jordan felt so damn good.

“Is it… very red?”

Stuart pressed his palm to Jordan’s ass. He nodded. “And hot. I’ve got some aloe that will feel really good on that.”

“You’re taking care of me.” Jordan’s voice was warm.

“That’s my job, remember?”

Then his stomach roiled. And since when was fingering a client and jerking him off part of my remit? If the king ever found out… Do they have public executions in Elloria?

“Hey.” Jordan reached up and stroked his cheek. “You tensed up. Are you regretting this? I told you to do it, remember? I gave you an order. This was all my idea.” He swallowed. “And I loved it.” His eyes glistened, and he wiped them with the back of his hand. “It may not be part of your job, but you gave me what I needed.”

Stuart doubted the king would see it that way.

So what happens now?

He had no fucking idea.