The Stolen Kiss | By : lordoberon Category: S through Z > The Song of the Lioness (tetralogy) > The Song of the Lioness (tetralogy) Views: 4366 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Song of the Lioness Series. It belongs wholly to Tamora Pierce. I do not earn any money in the writing of this story. |
I felt this fanfic was unfinished. I didn't like to leave it as it was. So when inspiration came, I ran with it and wrote this final chapter.
_______________________________________________________________________________________ THE STOLEN KISS a Tortall fanfic by lordoberonGeorge's POV...
They lay like that in delicious silence and warmth and their hard, strong bodies against each other. George felt like if the world were to end right here, right now, he wouldn’t mind. Forget anyone else he had ever laid with. Forget his Kingdom, his thief followers, his enemies, the Provost, the wild countryside that he occasionally visited, forget it all…Jon was all he needed, and Jon was all he wanted. Smiling to himself, he stroke his fingers through Jonathan’s thick dark hair. He began to hum an old tune to himself, a fishing shanty he had heard at the docks of the ocean on a wild travelling thieving escapade years ago. At the same time, his fingers reached the back of Jon’s neck, and from there he let his hand stroke down the young man’s spine a little. That made Jon shiver, and George bit back a moan as just the sensation of the Prince’s body trembling against his was intoxicating. He was sensitive to touch, he had always been, and the touch of the Prince’s body combined with the memories of Jon’s voice made him itch to go wild again. He wanted more, and yet he wanted to lie here contentedly forever. Jon arched up from his seeming slumber against George’s body, and his starlight eyes gazed at George with love. He had said George had stolen him, but George knew the truth. Jonathan had stolen his heart long ago, and now, in this intimacy and wild lust, Jon had unknowingly given George his heart back. They shared it now between them, and George hoped they would continue to share – bodies, minds, hearts, all of it, he wanted an all-encompassing thing with Jon. His heart beat faster as he thought of this. What was he thinking? Wasn’t just having Jon’s body enough? Jon saw the trouble in his eyes, and frowned, and George murmured in reply to the unspoken question, “It’s nothing. I simply wish you never had to leave.” He wrapped the Prince in his arms, breathing in the sweet scent of the Prince’s hair. Then Jon’s lips were on him – sprinkling kisses over his chest, up his arms, across his jaw to ghost over his lips. George gasped at the sensation, and then Jon was kissing him again. His kiss was fierce, wanting, healing, and George knew that that was how Jon meant it to be. It said: I want you and I need you, too. They basked in the heat and joy of each other’s tongues, and then Jon fell back, and with a smile on his face and his eyes closed, he said, “I’ve never had anything like this.” Then he became more serious, and the frown left him. “I’ve never had someone want me…and feel so much for me…at the same time.” His voice trembled. George felt guilty for burdening the Prince, who already had so many responsibilities, with his feelings. This was more than just a lustful encounter, and they both knew it. But why trouble over that now? George didn’t want Jon to be troubled. With a wicked grin, he began to kiss and lick his way down the Prince’s body, down that strong chest, over the belly, over the hardening, sweet cock, down past the balls, and when his tongue finally dove between Jon’s legs, the Prince stiffened. George felt Jon’s tension rolling from him, and the pale thighs clamped on his head, but the Prince said nothing, so George pushed his tongue deeper into the young man’s entrance, deeper, stronger, faster. He heard Jon taking in hitched breaths, and then Jon’s fingers were pulling his hair, and that firm, beautiful body was pushing upward towards George’s tongue, begging for it. George thrust his tongue in short bursts, going in and then out, and in response, a loud moan came from Jonathan. He began to whimper as George’s tongue licked into him deep and whirling fast, and he gasped, “George, George,” in a hoarse voice, when George slipped a slick finger into the boy. With his tongue still pressing, he pushed his finger in deeper, widening, waiting. Jonathan seemed to enjoy it all; he was beyond questions and worries and hesitancy. When George added a second slick finger into his body, Jon’s body clenched down over the two fingers, and George licked his lips. He stared at his Prince laid out before him as his fingers thrust in. Jon was splayed out on the bed and his arms had reached back, his hands gripping pillows desperately. His mouth was pinkened more from biting it, and his face was flushed. The muscles of his arms and neck were tense, beaded in sweat. His strong thighs clenched down over George occasionally, and the sweet, hot flesh that George’s fingers were buried in also clenched around him. Loud and unable to stop moving, the Prince was like a wild stallion, tossing his head, pushing against George. George didn’t think he could take much more. He took his fingers from Jon’s body, and widened the entrance more with his tongue. Indulging himself, and driving the Prince more to the edge, he let one hand fist up the boy’s length. At this move, Jon lifted his head up, and he looked up at George through bright eyes half-closed in lust. “George,” he barked, angry and yet unable to stop his trembling of desire, “You’re torturing me on purpose.” George tried to stop his laughter by biting his cheek, but he couldn’t help it. He laughed, loudly. Then he leaned in to look closer at the Prince’s beautiful, hot glare and whispered, “You know you like it. You like to lose control, my darling, because you usually have so much of it.” Jon’s beautiful mouth twisted, and he said indignantly, “I do not. I do not like to lose control. I am like someone who has been stolen from, and you are like the gloating thief.” He sounded angry, but deep in that anger there was laughter, and George knew that he had hit some place in Jon where, deep down, his words were true. Jon just didn’t like to admit it to himself. George pushed his body down over Jon’s, and both of them groaned at the sweet contact. With his cock heavy and hard against Jonathan’s thigh, he drawled, “Well, my Prince, are you going to punish me for my thieving, dishonest ways?” He gasped, caught off guard, as Jon’s hand reached down and grasped his cock. The boy’s finger pressed hard against his tender skin, and George liked it. Jon’s thumb roved over the head of his cock, and George bit back a sound. He continued to stare at Jon as Jon stared at him. “Maybe I will,” Jon said, but the words were an after statement, because his fingers on George’s cock were an absolute torture. Even better was the way he seemed distracted by the sight of George’s body. His blue gaze drifted down from George’s face to where his hand was teasing George’s member. His tongue dipped out to moisten his lips, and George felt his cock leap in Jon’s hand at the sight. The Prince smirked. With a grin that was somewhat wicked, George took hold of Jon’s hand and took it from his body. He pressed the hand down into the bed, and did the same with Jon’s other hand. Fully straddling the young man, George prepared to enter him. Jon’s gaze stared up at him in surprise for a second, and then as George continued to stare at him, asking, he said, “Do it.” His voice was firm and commanding. George wanted to listen to it. His body thrummed with desire to take Jon. But he waited, and then forced himself to say, “Are you sure?” This was the Prince of Tortall, and there was only one. He was the heir to the throne, and though his semen did not have the same significance in this situation as it would with a woman, nevertheless, it was more than just a light thing to allow George such power and owning of his body, his semen…George wondered about Jon’s heart. Could he dare to have that and take this beautiful boy before him? Jonathan licked his lips. He pressed his body up towards George, and placed his smooth, delicate hands on George’s jutting hips. Lovingly, he placed a kiss against George’s neck, and whispered, “Please.” George sat, taking it in. But his mind couldn’t quite work. There was too much elation and lust inside of him. Jon laid back and he looked straight at George, and said again, stronger this time, “Please.” The Prince had not only commanded him, but asked him. And in that one kiss, there was more love there than George felt he had ever seen between Jon and anyone else. He hadn’t seen Jon with family, only with friends, but nevertheless…that kiss was something special, and it spoke volumes of Jon’s affection for him. With a murmur of Jon’s name, George slipped his cock deep and fast into Jon’s body. The young man’s thighs clenched against him; his hands tightened on the bedsheets; a sound came from his throat, a grunt, and his eyelashes fluttered over his porcelain cheeks. George did it again, slower this time, and a sigh came from his Prince’s lips. When George did it a third time, and a fourth, Jon murmured, “I didn’t know it would be…like this.” “Like what?” George was panting now. He pressed harder into Jonathan, and the Prince made a beautiful, sweet moaning sound. “So…forceful, but also…” Jonathan moaned as George pressed in hard again, and now the King of Thieves laid his body tight against his lover’s. “You make it sweet, too, George.” With a growl, George planted a kiss on Jonathan’s mouth, and then drew back, saying, “I think the sweetness part of it is you, not me.” He had started a slow but steady tempo. Beneath him, Jon’s body was hot, hard, trembling. He bit his mouth, he licked his lips, and when George leaned down again he wrapped his arms around George’s torso. On the next thrust, he pushed up in response to George pushing down. The King of Thieves groaned in delight. He began to push himself deeper in the boy, harder, faster. God it was good, so good he was losing himself. The boy was so tight around him, clenching against his cock; those hard, sweaty thighs rubbed against his, and the soft hands scraped and grabbed at his back. Finally they sidled down, and George moaned as Jonathan’s hands gripped his backside. The Prince pushed his hand hard against George’s buttocks, urging him to go deeper, and he murmured, “Oh faster George…please,” in this choked voice. When George moved faster, a keening low animal groan came from Jon’s throat, and that was almost enough to send George over the edge. Jonathan began to mimic his moves against him, thrusting strong hips upward, and at the same time his fingernails bit into the tender skin of George’s buttocks, and his hard cock jutted against George’s belly with every thrust. George was moving faster now, every thrust hard, and he began to make his own wild noises. His hands were holding the Prince’s wrists so hard they might bruise, and he tried to let go his grip, but he couldn’t. He began to taste Jon at the same time as he thrust – a nip at Jon’s earlobe, a suckling kiss at his neck, and long, languorous licks at the nipples. Jon whimpered beneath him, and his hands moved to bury in George’s hair and massage his scalp. They lingered like that, as George made his thrusts slow and gentle and long – agonizingly long, and he dared not pull his cock all the way out, for fear he wouldn’t get the joy of coming inside Jon’s body. Then Jon kissed him, and the kiss was so slow, so tender, George wanted to weep. Jon’s hand moved down to his arm, and he pushed fingertips tight against George’s skin, saying, “Wild again, George. I want to see you lose yourself. For me.” The request was barely made, and George was fulfilling it. He pushed himself harder, longer in Jon’s body, and his cock throbbed with desire, and his moans filled the room. He was hitting that beautiful, tender spot in Jon, deep within his body, and with every hit, a wild cry came from Jon’s mouth. Sometimes Jon yelled George’s name. Sometimes it was incoherent, animalistic beauty of sound loud in George’s ear. George pounded hard and short into Jon next, so fast that he was bouncing over Jon, and the boy’s hard, pleading cock was leaving trails of precome silky against George’s belly. George growled and groaned against Jon with every thrust, using all of his muscles. At the same time, his fingers caressed and reveled in touching Jon – his hair, his cheek, the sweat on his throat, the hard pink nipples erect and sensitive, and then his big hand wrapped around Jon’s aching cock, and as he continued to thrust he played Jon’s cock, his nimble fingers gliding over it like a fiddle. Then his thumb simply played at the tip. Beneath him, Jon was making these crooning, long sounds of lust, and each one made George go crazy more and more. His body rippled in pleasure, and he took in the scents of Jon’s body, sweat and sweet perfume, and his body ached to feel the hardness and softness of Jon, and his thumb roved delightedly over Jon’s cock. “Oh please George please more more,” Jon gasped, and George grinned. He knew he had lost himself for Jon, but Jon was losing himself in lust for George, too. He had never thought he would hear the proud prince of Tortall beg him like that. He cleared his throat, and pushed himself deep within Jon. Remaining there, he leaned over. With the tip of Jon’s cock in his palm, and his rough callused skin rubbing that sweet hard ache, he licked over Jonathan’s ear. The Prince whimpered. Then George whispered hot in Jon’s ear, “More what? Tell me what you want.”* * *
Jon could barely think. He didn’t think he had ever wanted anything this much. He had never felt himself so out of control. It had frightened him at first, how strong George was inside him, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it. Then it had become good…and piece by piece, George was tearing his control apart. What surprised Jonathan most was that he discovered, he liked it. He liked the way George tore his control, because in response, George lost himself to Jon.
Jon could tell, in the way George moved against him, in the way George kissed him, in the way George touched him, that George had wanted this for a very long time. Deep somewhere in his rational mind, he wondered how George had hid it so long, and he was sad to have caused George agony and pain. But in his body, oh he was thrilled. He was thrilled to be loved and touched with so much need. Jon was a prince. It was ingrained in him to help people, to satisfy them; usually this came from a position of authority and superiority, but here he was satisfying George completely, without any ounce of self-control to his name. George had him screaming and making sounds he didn’t think he was capable of. He wanted George’s body pounding over him, into him. He wanted that aching, throbbing cock. It was so powerful within him, so needy. That spot George hit…Mithros and Goddess! There was nothing like it. He wanted more and George gave him more, and now he shivered and trembled in George’s arms, with that damnable thieve’s hands on him, and George’s delicious cock buried within him. What did he want more of? All of it! He wanted George to pound hard and fast in him again. He wanted that fullness of George within him to never stop. He wanted George to stop teasing with his hand on Jon’s cock, but at the same time he wanted that to never stop, either. He wished George’s tongue could be on his cock right now, but he didn’t want George’s hard member to leave his body. It felt good there, strong and powerful. Yet somehow in this sharing of bodies it felt like now they were equals. He was an equal to George, even though rationally this made no sense; in this moment, they were equals, king to king, or prince to prince; certainly man to man. It was so good. Yet it was also loss of being a man; they were animals, they were madmen, they were jesters, they were like water flowing together down one forceful bubbling stream. Their bodies moved sinuously and gracefully, harsh and demanding, soft, then hard, hot, always hot. There was no coolness to George’s body sliding in sweat against Jonathan. It was good. “More of all of it,” Jon gasped, “More you…I want it to keep going forever.” He looked up at George, trying to give a strong look; but his chest heaved up and down in panting breaths, and if George drifted his thumb softly over the head of Jon’s cock one more time, Jon might explode. George laughed. “Jon, I don’t think this will be forever…’cause I’m about to burst all over.” Jon laughed at George’s ability to switch from romantic to making a joke. But there was truth in the statement. He could feel George tight within him. George was going to blow his load soon, too. It was this aching, sweet, tight need in them both, closing in on them. “Keep going,” he gasped, “please.” George’s eyes closed, and he had a tender smile on his face. He looked so satisfied, even though Jon knew he was going crazy just like he was. They began again, moving in time to each other, and when George was pounding so hard and fast that Jon had pleasure in every part of him and his fingers positively tingled and he was screaming something unintelligible, he came. It was hard and long, splurting over George’s belly. At the same time George’s pleasure shot within him, and it felt so good to have that wet and heat in him; it was nothing like Jon had ever experienced before. And as he came this glorious low moan came from George, that had Jon shivering in ecstasy to hear it. Finished, they stared at each other, and then George slumped to lie over Jon. Jon found that he liked the heat. They panted, trying to catch their breath. George was a delicious, hard heat above him. His hips seemed to fit perfectly in line with Jon’s. When he pulled out of Jon, Jon felt suddenly empty, but as if he knew Jon would feel like this, George pressed a kiss to Jonathan’s jaw in comfort. They lay as one body, breathing faster and then finally regaining breath, and it was as if as they breathed, they breathed themselves into a new place, a new time. And it was new. And it was different. Jon was now Jon with George. He wasn’t just Jon. He wasn’t just Prince of Tortall. What had begun as a stolen kiss had transformed them into something else. He wasn’t sure what would happen next. But he knew it would be good, it would be right, because George was with him.THE END
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