Eat the Poor

XXXI

But there was no denying the burning desire I felt for Philip. It wasn't his money. His title. I would love him without a copper to his name. I yearned for him, ached for him, breathed for him.

"I want to." I was close enough to feel his unsteady breath on my lips, to feel his heart pound at my sudden touch. "I want you."

His eyes widened at this, round and eager.

"Please tell me you feel the same. Please." I strained closer. "Just give me a sign."

A look of desperation overcame him. His lips moved wordlessly, seemingly fighting themselves, agony frozen on his face. His eyes poured into mine and I thought, He's not going to say anything.

And then suddenly he was atop me, straddling me, crushing me in a kiss, whispering I want you, I want you, of course I want you. I want you so badly I can't live with myself.

I gripped him, burying my head in his chest, suffocating in his divinity. I wanted to rip his clothes off that instant and see him, taste him, touch him.

His body pressed warm against mine. My cock twitched inside my trousers. All I could imagine was how he would look naked, fleshy thighs splayed and soft belly rising and falling with every breath.

I could have you here. No one but the grass and sky and sun to bear witness.

"I want it to... be with you," he murmured, eyes half-lidded. "Not her. Not with the entire Court watching." His words spilled between kisses, urgent, needy. "Just like my father. Watching. I shall only see his eyes." He pulled back and dug his nails into my biceps. "I don't see him with you."

I took his hands in mine, massaging his knuckles with my thumbs. His fingers were smooth and delicate, pale white like marble.

"Can you teach me, Auden?" he asked, eyes on my lap. "Like with swimming?"

Did he know the power he held over me? One glance and I was a dripping puddle in his hands. And those eyes, great pools of gold, my God, waiting for my response.

"Philip..." I ran my thumb along his cheek. "My little cherub." The corners of his mouth lifted, and like a cherub, he looked incapable of such carnal desire. "You have no idea the pleasure I could bring you."

He drew in a sharp breath as I pressed his hand between his legs. On instinct, his hips bucked, grinding against me. His fingers fought for escape as he felt himself through his breeches.

His other hand gripped my arm as I made him touch himself, both our hands moving in unison. I kissed his neck and slowly he relaxed, melting like butter in my arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his hand began to move on its own.

I watched his exploratory touches, first himself, then me, his hand creeping up my thigh and rubbing my erection. And for once I was not thinking about the past, I was not nine years old, I was eighteen and I was in love for the first time and I wanted to make love for the first time. It would be gentle and delicate and beautiful and all the things I never knew I wanted.

Philip looked up once, uncertain, and I closed my hand over his. "We can stop if you wish."

His lips bloomed in a smile. "Auden, it would kill you to stop."

"That's alright. Let it kill me."

He kissed me very softly and whispered, "I like this." And I held him and kissed him until time slipped away from us, until we were laughing, tumbling over, arms and legs all entwined and I was kissing his chest, his belly, anything in sight.

I love you, my kisses said.

And in the field our horses grazed, oblivious to the words written on our tongues.