Chapter 88: Claim Me, My Prince

Basil’s expression immediately changed. The frustration remained, but concern slipped through it. Cursing under his breath, he crossed the room, stepping right up to the side of the bed. Darius smiled victoriously, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Darius, listen to me, we really need to talk about this properly—"

Darius reached out, grabbed Basil’s wrist, and yanked him down before he could finish.

Basil let out a surprised sound as he was pulled onto the mattress, landing heavily beside him. Before he could recover, Darius caught his jaw, his thumb pressing firmly against the side of his neck where his pulse was thumping wildly.

"Now," Darius murmured, his eyes burning with determination and desire. "Kiss me, my prince."

Basil’s eyes widened. For several seconds, his mind simply stopped functioning at how easily the words left Darius’s mouth, as though they were the most natural thing in the world.

How was this happening again? This wasn’t how he had envisioned any of this going.

If someone had told him a month ago that he would be sitting on Darius’s bed, looking into those dangerously captivating blue eyes while being ordered to kiss him, he would have laughed in their face. Yet here he was, unable to muster a single shred of actual resistance.

"Kiss me, my prince," Darius repeated softly, his thumb tracing the line of Basil’s cheekbone. The simple gesture sent warmth spreading through Basil’s chest, making his already racing heart stumble helplessly.

"Claim me with your kiss, my prince."

Basil swallowed hard. His pulse thundered in his ears as every instinct told him this was a terrible idea, urging him to pull away, to create distance, to regain control before things became even more complicated.

Instead, he found himself staring into those intense blue eyes. Slowly and completely losing the battle, Basil released a shaky breath as he leaned in and captured Darius’s lips.

The moment their lips met again, any remaining illusion of self-control vanished. There was no hesitation this time, no tentative probing or lingering uncertainty. Basil leaned into the touch with a sudden, needy intensity, his hands coming up to cup the sides of Darius’s neck, his fingers digging into the collar of Darius’s shirt. He took what Darius was offering, pressing his mouth firmly against his and deepening the kiss until the sharp tang of hot breath and shared desire threatened to swallow them both whole.

Darius let out a low, rough growl against Basil’s mouth, his grip shifting from Basil’s jaw to wrap firmly around his waist, pulling Basil completely onto the bed until their bodies were pressed flush together. The lingering weakness in Darius’s recovering frame seemed to fade into the background, eclipsed entirely by the sheer heat of the moment. He rolled slightly, bracing his weight on one forearm while his free hand slid up beneath the hem of Basil’s shirt, his palm scraping over the hot, smooth skin of Basil’s abdomen.

Basil gasped at the direct contact, his hips hitching upward in a sharp, involuntary arch that brought them even closer. Darius took immediate advantage of the breath, sliding his tongue deep into Basil’s mouth, tasting him greedily, mapping every line and curve of his mouth with a possession that left Basil completely breathless.

Every sound Basil made was swallowed directly by Darius. The quiet, broken moans, the ragged hitches in his throat, the soft gasps for air whenever Darius dragged his lips away from Basil’s mouth to trail feverish, biting kisses along his jawline. Darius worked his way down to the exposed column of Basil’s neck, sinking his teeth gently into the sensitive juncture where his shoulder met his throat. Basil’s head snapped back against the mattress, his eyes tightly shut, his hands knotting violently into Darius’s dark hair. A shudder ran through his entire body, starting from where Darius’s mouth was marking his skin down to his toes.

"Darius..." Basil rasped out, his voice wrecked, a fragile blend of plea and surrender.

"Yes, my prince," Darius murmured against his burning skin, his voice thick and dark. He sucked gently at the mark he had just bitten, feeling the frantic, hammering rhythm of Basil’s pulse right against his lips. "I want to make you feel good. Better than you’ve ever felt. Will you let me?"

Basil could only nod, a jerky, desperate motion.

Darius’s hand slid higher under Basil’s shirt, tracing the firm line of his ribs, feeling the violent rise and fall of his chest. Every touch was heavy, deliberate, and intoxicating. Basil moved beneath him with an uninhibited, fluid grace, no longer fighting the current, no longer hiding behind guilt or uncertainty. He turned his head, hunting for Darius’s mouth again, desperate to catch his lips in another bruised, breathless kiss.

When their lips met once more, it was slower, deeper, an intoxicating rhythm that stretched time like warm taffy.

Then Darius’s fingers found his nipple.

Basil jerked as if struck by lightning, a sharp, broken moan tearing from his throat.

Darius’s thumb circled the sensitive peak through the thin fabric, a slow, deliberate torture that sent sparks shooting down Basil’s spine. He pinched it gently, rolling the hardened nub between his thumb and forefinger.

"Darius...please— " The plead came out as a strangled gasp, high and needy. Basil’s back bowed off the mattress, his fingers clawing at Darius’s shoulders.

"Interesting," Darius mused, and then he did it again. Basil’s vision went white at the edges.

He had never—he hadn’t known—his nipples had never been this sensitive, never sent pleasure arcing through him like this, sharp and electric and devastating. His hips ground upward helplessly against Darius’s thigh, seeking friction, seeking anything. "Please," he heard himself begged again, the word foreign on his tongue, stripped of every ounce of composure.

Darius broke the kiss, and a soft, involuntary whine escaped Basil before he could stop it. The sound seemed to surprise him as much as it did Darius. His lips parted on a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he instinctively leaned forward, chasing the warmth that had just been taken away.

For a long, terrifying moment, Darius simply looked at him. His blue eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, tracing every flushed inch of Basil’s face as though he were committing it to memory.