Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,48

other one was cupped over his dick, and absently massaging it into a very respectable erection. “Sorry.”

“Don’t you—” Quinn groaned and squirmed in the saddle. “Tell them we’re stopping.”

“What?”

“You’re the prince, arsehole,” Quinn said. “Tell them we’re stopping!”

“Let’s just take a five-minute break!” Loth announced.

“Ten,” Quinn grumbled.

“A ten-minute break,” Loth corrected, and then Quinn was dragging him off the horse and behind the cover of a large tree beside the road.

“Feel that!” Quinn grumbled, rubbing against Loth’s thigh. “I can’t ride like that!”

Loth leered at him. “Sweetheart, you could ride a number of things like that.”

“This is your fault.” Quinn fixed him with an imperious stare. “Fix it!”

“Yes, Your Grace, whatever you say, Your Grace,” Loth mocked quietly, and dropped to his knees and tugged Quinn’s trousers down.

“Why are you...?” Quinn blinked down at him.

“Why am I kneeling? Because I’m going to put your dick in my mouth, and my neck doesn’t bend this far otherwise.”

“Your mouth?” Quinn looked completely gobsmacked at the very idea. “Here?”

“Yes,” Loth said, cocking a brow. “Problem?”

“I just thought...” Quinn blinked. “I thought hands. But, gods. No, no problem at all!”

Loth didn’t reply, because his mother always said it was rude to talk with your mouth full. That was fine—Quinn babbled enough for both of them. “Oh! What—yes... aaah... oh gods...” and his hands tangled tightly in Loth’s hair and tugged in a way that had Loth’s own cock twitching. He hummed around Quinn’s cock, just to hear him whimper.

Quinn’s hips started to rock, and Loth barely had time to think that five minutes would be long enough after all, and then Quinn was coming with a low groan. Loth suckled him clean, licked his lips, and then looked up with a bright smile. “Now do me!”

Quinn’s eyes widened.

Loth laughed. “I’m teasing.” He climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his knees. Then he smacked Quinn on the arse. “That should take the edge off for you, hmm?”

Quinn blinked at him dumbly, as though he’d suddenly lost the ability to understand words, although Loth supposed that his confused expression could just be the result of the mind-blowing orgasm Loth had given him.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got places to be.”

Then he backed Quinn against the tree and kissed him until Calarian called out that they’d better hurry up.

Quinn was still a little dazed when they got back on the horse, and he leaned back against Loth uncomplainingly as they continued on.

Ada pulled her horse to a halt and waited until Loth and Quinn caught up. “You know something.”

“Nope,” Loth lied. “Nothing at all.”

“Bullshit. We’re being pursued by soldiers, and you take the time to go and suck Cue off in the woods?”

“Listen, what would even be the point of life if you didn’t stop and make time for blowjobs?” Loth asked. “Besides, how d’you know I sucked him off?”

“Ears like a bat!” Calarian called.

“If I do know something,” Loth said, lowering his voice, “I’d rather not discuss it in front of Scott.”

Ada narrowed her eyes as she considered that, and then nodded. “That’s fair. I wouldn’t tell him the day of the week because he’d still find some way to fuck it up.”

“Listen,” Loth said, lowering his voice even further, “have you considered trying to find out who his contact is in Callier, and, you know.” He drew his finger across his throat.

“Considered?” Ada asked. She tugged at her beard. “I’ve dug his fucking grave in my dreams, but Calarian keeps reminding me that we might need a meat shield at some point.”

Loth hummed. “That is a good point.”

“Can you guys maybe not plot murder in front of me?” Quinn whined. “I’m trying to enjoy the afterglow here.”

“Murder gives a good afterglow,” Ada said.

Quinn groaned. “Stop, please.”

“Yes, let the boy get used to sex before we introduce him to anything else,” Loth said. Quinn elbowed him in the ribs.

“What do you need to know, Cue?” Calarian called back. “Because I’m an expert!”

Quinn covered his face. “Make it stop!”

Loth ignored him and called out, “Tell us about the dirty alchemist!” At Quinn’s outraged expression, he said, “What? Enquiring minds want to know!”

Calarian slowed his horse and waited until they drew level. Then he spent the next half hour explaining, in great detail, exactly what went where, and what made the alchemist so dirty.

When he rode on ahead, Quinn stared after him for a moment, mouth hanging open. “Wow,” he said, and then grinned mischievously. “I think we might need to try it.”

They rode until

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