Princely Submission by K.C. Wells

Chapter Fourteen

“Can I think about it?” It probably wasn’t the reaction Jordan was expecting, but it was the best response Stuart could provide on the spur of the moment. Then his heart sank to see Jordan’s crestfallen expression, and Stuart hastened to reassure him. “Listen to me. You did not make a fool of yourself, okay? In fact, you just paid me a huge compliment. Seriously, I’m flattered.” He took Jordan’s hand in his. “And… you’re not wrong. I want you.” So much that he ached for him, like he hadn’t ached for anyone in a very long time.

Jordan caught his breath, his lips parting. “You do?”

Stuart nodded. “But you have to understand that I would never have—”

He stopped Stuart’s words with a finger to his lips. “I know. You take your responsibilities seriously.” He removed his hand. “At least now you know how I feel.” His eyes widened. “Did you mean it? You will think about it?”

“I promise.” Stuart’s heart raced. “But you also have to be prepared if it’s not the answer you want.”

“In that case, I’ll hope you come to the right decision.” His lips twitched, and Stuart laughed. Jordan pulled his hand free. “I’ll finish getting ready, then we can go.” He swallowed. “Thank you for hearing me out, and for not dismissing my… request instantly.” He got up from the couch and walked into his bathroom.

Stuart brought his hand to his forehead, and realized he was shaking. He left the living room and went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sat on his bed, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and scrolled. It rang… and rang… rang…

Please be awake.

Rhys’s groggy voice filled his ears. “Do you have any idea what time I go to bed these days? What’s so fucking urgent it couldn’t wait a few hours?”

“I need some advice,” Stuart blurted out. “And right now, you were the first person I thought of.”

“Thanks—I think. Whass up?”

“I have a dilemma.” As succinctly as he could manage, Stuart outlined the conversation with Jordan, then waited for Rhys’s response.

Crickets.

“Well?”

Rhys cackled. “Not seeing a dilemma here, I have to say.”

“Excuse me? He’s my client.”

“So? It’s not as if you’d be taking advantage of him, not when he’s serving his virginity to you on a platter. And look at your reaction. You didn’t unzip your fly, whip out your cock and say,’ Okay, let’s fuck.’ Sure, I can see why you’re conflicted. You’d be crossing the line from professional to personal. But Stu, you didn’t initiate this. You’re no predator. You want him, but you didn’t make the first move. That’s called integrity.”

“I’m not being paid to fuck him.”

“No one’s saying you are!”

Stuart sighed. “Maybe I should talk to Matt.”

“Who’s Matt?”

“My boss.”

Rhys spluttered. “Are you fucking kidding me? Wanna know how that conversation would go? ‘Hey, boss, this prince I’m guarding wants me to fuck him, is that okay with you?’ ‘Sure, fuck his brains out, and by the way, you’re fired.’”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Stuart murmured.

There was silence for a moment. “He might not fire your ass. He might just suspend you from duties for a while. But it sounds to me like you’ve been having doubts about the job. Something you wanna tell me?”

Stuart leaned against the pillows. “Maybe I’ve been doing some thinking, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Rhys said, drawing out the syllables. “Then let’s try a different tack. What would be the consequences if you were to do what Jordan wants? If you want out anyway, maybe those consequences are acceptable. You have to weigh everything up, then decide.” He paused. “You know I wanna see him, don’t you? He must be something pretty special.”

“What makes you say that?” Not that Rhys was wrong. Jordan was all kinds of special.

“Because I know you get offers, buddy. You told me so yourself, the last time you were over here. Who was that guy, the one with all the ropes and handcuffs in his closet? You turned him down. But you didn’t turn Jordan down right away, did ya? Now, why was that?”

Stuart had been thinking about that. “That Russian count… he just wanted to get his rocks off and have some fun. That’s all it would have been for him.”

“But it sounds to me like it’s a more serious deal for Jordan.”

Stuart had come to the same conclusion.

Rhys yawned. “Okay, I’m going back to bed. You’ll get my bill for this therapy session in the mail. And I hope to see you soon—both of you.”

“Sorry I disturbed your beauty sleep. Because God knows, you need it.” And with that, Stuart disconnected. Rhys had always been a good sounding board.

There was a tap on his door. “Ready to go?”

Stuart lurched off the bed and opened the door. “Ready.”

Maybe thinking would be easier with a good breakfast inside him.

“More coffee, Mr. Whitmore?” King Ludomir asked as he poured himself another cup.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but if I have any more, my kidneys will be floating in the stuff.” Jordan sat beside Stuart. He’d said little throughout breakfast.

The king leaned back in his chair. “There is to be a change in the itinerary today. Jordan, you will not be required to attend the meetings.”

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

King Ludomir reached into his inner jacket pocket and removed a long envelope. “You will be otherwise occupied.” He held it out, and Jordan took it. The king met Stuart’s gaze. “As will you, Mr. Whitmore.”

Stuart waited until Jordan had opened the envelope with his bread knife, then leaned across to peer at the single sheet Jordan unfolded.

Jordan’s breathing hitched. “A tour of Beverly Hills and Hollywood—in a limousine?” His eyes sparkled.

“It will take you all around the sights, and you’ll be able to make stops, get out and take photos… The limo is at your disposal for six hours, so you will be able to see a great deal.” King Ludomir smiled. “Happy belated birthday, my son.”

Jordan swallowed. “Thank you, Father, Mother. This is wonderful.” He turned to Stuart. “I’ve never ridden in one before.”

The queen stared at him. “You ride everywhere in one of the royal cars. Is a limousine so different?”

“It isn’t the same,” Jordan stressed. “That is simply a means of getting from A to B. This is… special.” He glanced at Stuart. “Have you ridden in one?”

Stuart nodded. “Many times. Everyone should get to ride in a limo at least once. The last time I did, it had everything—champagne, strawberries, music…”

The queen cleared her throat. “I think a bottle of champagne can be arranged. Just one, however.” She narrowed her gaze. “I remember how much you drank the night of the ball.”

Jordan laughed. “One bottle will be more than enough.” He glanced at Stuart. “Will you share it with me?”

“One glass. I’m on duty, remember?”

Jordan’s face tightened just a fraction. “I hadn’t forgotten.” He wiped his lips with his napkin, then stood, still clutching his gift. “In that case, I’ll go and change. If I’m going to travel in style, I want to dress accordingly.” With a nod to his parents, Jordan left the room.

He didn’t want to be reminded that I’m working.

The queen rose to her feet. “And seeing as I shall be attending the meetings this morning, I too will change.” She nodded to him. “Have a wonderful day, Mr. Whitmore. And please see that Jordan does too?”

“I will, Your Majesty.” When she closed the door behind her, it was just the two of them in the room. “I think your surprise is awesome, Your Majesty. He’ll love it, I’m certain.”

King Ludomir took a drink from his cup. “I want him to enjoy this time, to profit from it.” A soft sigh fell from his lips. “I felt he was in danger of following in my footsteps.”

“Your Majesty?” Stuart frowned.

King Ludomir studied him in silence for a moment, then put down his cup and wiped his lips. “I met Adrianna when we were both young. We knew we were expected to marry. But what I have come to understand is that my situation, our courtship, our marriage—these are the exception, rather than the rule. Other people date. They have… experiences.”

Stuart surmised there had been no one but the queen, and wondered if the king regretted not being able to sow any wild oats.

“I realize Jordan has never been able to live fully. He has spent his whole life under a microscope—under our thumb, as it were, albeit a well-meaning one.” King Ludomir locked gazes with Stuart. “I understand the situation better than you might think. His guest in New York?” the king air-quoted. “That is something he could not do in our own country, not where he is known to all.” He sighed again. “I suppose my… interference in removing certain temptations, though born out of concern for him, was also a little selfish. I didn’t want something to happen that would create a scandal in his future reign. Discretion is paramount, Mr. Whitmore. But here?” He gestured to their surroundings. “He has anonymity. He could take advantage of that to do all the things he cannot in Elloria.”

Stuart did his best not to react. Because it sounded as though the king was basically telling him to let Jordan—

“If he could explore… experience…” Those eyes so like Jordan’s met his. “And be safe…”

Stuart’s heartbeat quickened. “And if I could promise he would be?”

King Ludomir expelled a breath. “Then I would be happy for him to get the most out of this visit. To enjoy all it offers to the full.” He stood. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must ready myself for my first meeting.”

Stuart stood. “Your Majesty.”

The king smiled. “Enjoy your ride, Mr. Whitmore.” His eyes twinkled. Then he left the room, heading for the bedroom.

Stuart placed his napkin on the table, in a daze.

Did I read that all wrong, or did the king of Elloria just give me tacit agreement to aid Jordan in his quest to get laid?

Jordan loved everything about the limo, from its well-dressed chauffeur, Carlos, to the thick carpet covering the floor, to the drinks cabinet and sparkling crystal glasses. The seats were comfortable, and he liked the idea that while he could see out, others could not see in. It gave him a thrill each time they stopped to take photos. He felt like a film star as he emerged from the back of the limo, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

Lunch had been at a restaurant in Malibu, where the ocean had lapped at their feet, glimpsed through glass, and the food had been perfect. But what Jordan had loved most was that Stuart had been beside him. He supposed onlookers would have thought them to be father and son, and he’d longed to lean intimately into Stuart, just to get a reaction.

Am I a wicked person? He yearned to feel Stuart’s lips on his, to have those strong arms enfold him. Stuart hadn’t spoken of his request, and Jordan hadn’t brought up the subject again.

He wants to think about it. Jordan hoped he wouldn’t think for too long.

They’d taken in the sights of the Hollywood sign, the Walk of Fame, and were presently making their way through Beverly Hills. Jordan glanced at the sunroof, his heart pounding.

Just do it.

He stood and pushed his head and shoulders through the gap, out into the sunlight, and it was an exhilarating feeling.

“What are you doing?” Stuart demanded.

“Living a little dangerously. Do you want to join me?”

Stuart laughed. “I think I’ll let you handle this one.”

People waved at him from the sidewalk, and Jordan waved back, grinning. The breeze felt good on his face, and he popped the top two buttons on his shirt.

“Can I lure you back down with a glass of champagne?”

Jordan laughed and eased himself through the sunroof. “You said the magic word.” He sat, and watched as Stuart expertly removed the cork with a pop. “You’ve done that before.”

“Many, many times.” Stuart tilted a champagne flute and filled it with care, then passed it to Jordan. He repeated the action before replacing the bottle in its ice bucket. Stuart raised his glass. “To you.”

Jordan clinked his glass against Stuart’s and took a sip. He chuckled. “Champagne bubbles always tickle my nose.”

Stuart shuddered. “Tickling is never good, in any form.”

Jordan gazed at him with interest. “Are you ticklish?”

“Extremely.” Stuart relaxed against the padded seat, his eyes on Jordan. Then to his surprise, Stuart pressed the intercom button. “Carlos, could you put the screen up, please?”

“Certainly, sir.” The black glass screen rose gracefully, cutting them off from the front of the car.

Jordan gazed at him, perplexed.

Stuart put his glass down in its holder. “I need to talk to you, and I’d like it to be private.”

His heart beat faster. “Okay.” Jordan put his own glass down.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you said this morning. In fact, I’ve thought of little else.”

He’s going to say no. Jordan’s stomach tightened. He’d expected as much, but some tiny part of him had hoped. “Okay. And have you reached a decision?”

Stuart stared at him for a moment, as though he was learning Jordan’s face by heart. Then he leaned across, slid his hand to the back of Jordan’s head, and cradled it as he moved in to kiss Jordan on the lips, a lingering, sensual kiss that held the promise of more to come.

Jordan made a startled squeak, and Stuart drew back. “Don’t you dare,” he whispered, his hands around Stuart’s neck as he drew him closer, their lips colliding, Jordan sighing as he tried to deepen the kiss. When Stuart probed between his lips with his tongue, Jordan opened for him, groaning as Stuart explored him.

Then Stuart broke the kiss and shifted back. “I take it you like my decision.”

“Like it? My heart is beating so fast right now, I think it might explode. But… I thought…”

Stuart’s hand was on his neck, soft and comforting. “I want to give you what you need.” Another kiss, this time a gentle brushing of lips. “What we both need.”

Jordan’s heart fluttered and a pleasurable ache flooded his body. “In that case…” He reached over to press the intercom. “Carlos, how long do we have left?”

“About an hour, sir.”

“Thank you.” He flicked the switch, and Stuart gave him an inquiring glance. Jordan ignored it. He moved from the seat to the floor of the car, kneeling in front of Stuart. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Stuart became so still. “What are you doing?”

Jordan swallowed. “Living dangerously.” He tugged his shirt free of his pants and removed it, placing it on the seat. And before he had time to change his mind, he leaned forward, his hands on Stuart’s thighs, and kissed the solid lump that tented Stuart’s pants.

“Oh fuck. Jordan…”

Jordan raised his head and gazed imploringly at him. “Tell me what to do. Please.”

Stuart’s breathing quickened. “Unfasten my belt.”

Jordan was all fingers and thumbs as he undid it, his heart pistoning.

“Pop the button, then lower the zipper—slowly.”

Being given instructions was so much hotter than Jordan would have ever believed. He freed the button, then grasped the zipper’s tab and pulled it down, taking his time. Stuart tugged on his shirt, then unbuttoned it from the bottom up, revealing his hairy torso. His briefs bulged, the head of his cock emerging from beneath the waistband, and Jordan wanted.

“Take it out.” Stuart’s voice had a rough edge to it that went straight to Jordan’s dick.

Jordan eased the fabric lower, revealing Stuart’s stony, thick shaft, and he licked his lips.

Stuart chuckled. “It’s easy, you know. Open mouth, insert dick.”

Jordan stared at it, unable to tear his gaze away. “I think there’s a bit more to a good blow job than that.” Finally he raised his chin to meet Stuart’s eyes. “And I want it to be good.”

Stuart bit his lip. “Gotta be honest here. The thought of you getting your mouth on my cock has me so turned on, I’m going to have to fight the urge to come the instant I feel your lips on my shaft.” Then he grinned. “And as I want this to last more than three seconds, I’ll fight extra hard, okay?”

“I’d appreciate that.” Jordan wanted to enjoy the experience.

Stuart lifted his hips, and pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles, then spread his knees. His cock stood upright, pointing toward the sunroof. “Put your hand on it.” Jordan curled his fingers around the stiff shaft. “Now, you’re going to work it with one hand, and with the other, you’re going to massage my balls. Try to keep it gentle, okay?” His eyes glinted. “You can get a little rougher another time.”

That was all it took to send heat surging through him.

Jordan cupped Stuart’s balls, feeling their texture and weight. He rolled them gently in his hand, loving the soft moan of pleasure that fell from Stuart’s lips. On impulse, he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the head of Stuart’s dick.

Stuart’s breathing hitched. “Oh my God, your instincts…”

Jordan’s chest swelled, and he did it again.

“Flick the head with your tongue.” Jordan complied, and Stuart moaned. “Aw fuck, yeah.” Jordan gave a bolder lick, and Stuart nodded. “Oh, perfect. Do that again. Tease the slit with the tip.”

Jordan had never experienced such power. He had but to lick over the taut head, and multiple groans tumbled from Stuart’s parted lips.

“S-stop, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” He stroked Jordan’s hair. “Take the head into your mouth, but be careful, mind your teeth. Keep your lips firm around the shaft, and go down on it with long, deep strokes, as deep as you can go without choking. You can go fast or slow.” Stuart’s eyes gleamed. “A mixture of both is good.”

Jordan took a deep breath, opened his mouth wide, and went down on his first cock. He didn’t venture too far, but concentrated on sucking the wide head. The shaft throbbed in his hand, so hot between his lips.

“Christ, your mouth…”

Jordan slid him in a little deeper, remembering to work the shaft and roll his balls. After a while, he got into a rhythm, with hands and mouth working in harmony. Stuart shifted his ass forward on the seat, and Jordan paused.

“See that bit under the head? You’re going to flick it with your tongue. Make it firm and pointy, and keep the flicks light. Imagine it’s like the flutter of butterfly wings.”

Jordan held Stuart’s dick upright, and brought his tongue to the ridge below the head. He gave an experimental flick, and Stuart groaned. “Oh yeah.”

Jordan gave a nervous glance toward the screen. “You don’t suppose Carlos knows what we’re doing, do you?”

Stuart laughed. “Are you kidding? I doubt we’re the first, and I should think a blow job might be kinda tame, compared to some of the things this limo has seen.” He cleared his throat. “Now make me come with that beautiful mouth.”

That was all the impetus Jordan required.

He worshipped Stuart’s dick, alternating between sucking it and teasing it with his tongue, with Stuart’s hand resting lightly on his head.

“My balls,” Stuart whispered.

Jordan lowered his head and kissed Stuart’s sac, pushing his nose into the cleft between scrotum and inner thigh, breathing him in.

Dear God, it was heaven.

He licked Stuart’s balls, his tongue dragging the soft skin.

“Take one in your mouth.” Stuart’s voice was hoarse.

Jordan did as instructed, sucking gently on it, and loving the shudders that rippled through Stuart.

He likes it.

Then he went back to sucking and licking Stuart’s dick, pausing now and then to resume his adoration of Stuart’s balls. As the minutes passed, Stuart grew more restless, until he was holding Jordan’s head with both hands, pumping his hips and driving his cock into Jordan’s mouth, not deep but fast, Jordan doing his best to remember his tongue needed to get in on the action too.

“Close,” Stuart whispered, and Jordan sped up, playing with Stuart’s balls, and licking up and down the shaft as Stuart had instructed.

It wasn’t long before Stuart pulled free and grabbed a paper napkin from the holder. He cupped the head of his cock and shuddered, jolting as if electricity were coursing through his body. Jordan sat back on his haunches, lost in the sight of Stuart in the throes of an orgasm.

When his shivers had ceased, Stuart wadded the napkin and threw it into the mini trash basket. Then he slipped his arms under Jordan’s pits and hauled him upward, claiming his lips in a fierce kiss. He stroked Jordan’s bare chest and back, not once breaking off from kissing him.

“Beautiful boy,” he murmured against Jordan’s lips.

Some innate sense told Jordan the word had nothing to do with his age, and pride flushed through him. “Did I do okay?” he asked when they parted.

Stuart picked up Jordan’s shirt and helped him into it, buttoning him up. “No, you were so much better than merely okay,” he said in a low voice. Then he rearranged his own clothing, tucking his still half-hard cock into his briefs. “And when we’re alone tonight, I will thank you properly.” His eyes glittered. “After we’ve gotten Carlos to make a stop at a drug store.”

Jordan frowned, until the implication hit home, and he shivered. “Tonight?”

Stuart gave a slow nod. “Tonight.” Then he lifted Jordan, until he was sitting astride Stuart’s lap, his head almost bumping on the roof of the car. Stuart held him close, his hands on Jordan’s back, moving south at a leisurely pace until he cupped Jordan’s ass. He gave both cheeks a slight squeeze. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Jordan’s mind went instantly to Stuart’s cock, recalling its length and girth when at its most erect. “Will it fit?”

“Oh, it’ll fit. And I’ll be gentle. To begin with, at least.” Then he smiled. “And when you don’t want me to be gentle anymore, I’ll give you what you need.” He kissed Jordan, a light brushing of lips. “I promise.”

Warmth spread through him in a slow release. “I believe you. I put myself in your hands.”

Stuart’s very firm hands.