The Snow Prince - Raleigh Ruebins Page 0,45

place. “Fuck.”

“Hush,” I said.

“Sebastian,” he whispered.

I swallowed, my throat parched. “Get on my bed,” I said, my words surprising me as much as they clearly surprised him.

He obliged immediately, though, and as I watched him pace over to the bed, I took one last small sip of scotch. I walked over and marveled at the sight of Henry Denton in my bed, every bit a man. His hair was messed up, going in every direction. It reminded me of the Henry I’d once known, who perennially had bedhead, and always looked fucking incredible.

All at once it hit me that I had no idea what to actually do.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, looking up at me, patiently waiting. And I just stood there, between his knees, suddenly reeling.

“Sebastian?”

“Sorry, I—”

“You’re kind of freaking out, aren’t you?” he said softly, reaching up to run his hands along my shoulders.

“You could tell, huh?”

“I’m good at reading you,” he said. “Always have been.”

“I’ve just never—well, I’ve never done anything with a guy before,” I blurted out. “I want you so badly, I want everything, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so badly in my life, but I have no idea what I’m doing, Henry.”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

His arms dropped to my waist and he pulled me in hard and fast, clutching my body toward his. I gasped as his hot skin touched mine, with no fabric separating us now. He pulled me backward until we both collapsed onto the bed, then pushed my body over so that he was on top of me, straddling me, his lips just inches away from my own.

“Well, you see, there’s this thing called a blow job—”

“Henry, for fuck’s sake,” I said, laughing as a big smile spread across his face. His dimples appeared and for a second I felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me.

I hadn’t even realized that his dimples hadn’t come out until just now. Henry had been so hardened, so tight-lipped, ever since coming back to town. He’d smiled a few times, but never wide enough or naturally enough that his dimples had appeared.

But here they were. Like a gift from so long ago that I’d forgotten.

My whole body was covered in goosebumps now.

He dipped low and kissed the skin on my inner thigh. His hair brushed across me and made my cock jump. I pulled in a shaky breath.

Of course I’d had blow jobs before, from eligible bachelorettes who were overjoyed at the idea of getting to suck off a prince. But having Henry between my legs was a very, very different experience. I already felt like I could practically come, just from seeing him down there. My teenage fantasy, my lifelong wish.

And when his lips pressed against the tip of my cock, I let out an uncontrollable moan. His tongue slid out to lap at the precum gathered on top, and my cock jerked underneath him.

Then Henry took my cock into his mouth. He was slow and methodical, running his flat tongue down the underside of my shaft like he was trying to unravel me and succeeding in every possible way.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

It was terrifying how much I wanted him. How much this meant to me, even though it should have just been a hot hookup like any other. I was ignoring it right now, but I knew all too well that there was an entire world of reality waiting for me outside this room. This night was ours, completely—hanging in the world like its own little snowglobe, and it was perfect.

But Henry had been right earlier.

How the hell was I ever supposed to be apart from him again, when he made me feel like this? How was I even supposed to survive that? If this was the one night I’d ever get to have with Henry, I couldn’t let it just fly by. I wanted to savor every moment. Every inch of him.

His lips dragged upward on my cock again, his tongue trailing underneath the ridge of the head. My skin was standing on end, and suddenly I was perilously close to coming even though he’d only been down there for a short while.

“Ah,” I said, bracing him with my hands and pulling his head off of me.

“You okay?” he breathed. His eyes were lust-drunk and he looked so fucking sexy it was almost painful. I couldn’t process it.

“More than okay,” I said. “I’m too good. But… maybe we