He merely growled against Mac's nape, trying to keep his face hidden behind the Guardian. Uldren had seen the fear on the boy's face and it hurt him. It was one thing to be feared by his and the Queen's enemies, but seeing that same fear on such a young face, a face that Mac had been kissing . . . It hurt. He wasn't a damn monster after all! Well, actually he was, but he was just as attractive as Mac!
Actually . . . he really wasn't. He was attractive, handsome even, but he hadn't been doing a good job of showing that off to the elf. He was snarling and growling and being violent, not to mention he was the one who'd caught the poor kid to start with. And even though Ghost was translating, it wasn't really the same thing at all to what Mac was doing. Mac was speaking to the elf, in his own language, and seducing the kid with surprising ease. He was . . . jealous. He was definitely jealous, but he was also strangely lonely. He wanted to join in more, but all he did was scare the elf. There was only so much he could do to Mac without just shoving the kid away after all!
Uldren sighed and nipped Mac's spine, his hands sliding up and down the man's sides, "Get him off Mac. Show him how good it feels. All I do is scare him." He dragged his tongue over warm skin, fingers clenching on Mac's hips again as he rubbed against the man's ass. He wasn't made of stone and holding back was killing him, but he'd done this for Mac, in a fucked-up way. He'd like to be a more active participant, but what the hell could he do? Every move he made toward the elf was met with fear! It would just be better for Mac to do everything with the kid.
Ilormael heard the soft words that the Prince spoke, but they still made no sense. That was part of his fear, not knowing what was being said. Was the man instructing Mac to kill him or kiss him? As weird as their relationship seemed to be, he didn't feel all that confident Mac would stand up for him if it really came down to it. His glowing-eyed potential lover was in the Prince's thrall, and if the Prince decided he'd be a good sacrifice . . . Well, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd be more important than what the Prince wanted. And yet, he found himself moaning again as Mac's clever fingers played with his ears. He clung to the man breathing hard, feeling as if he was on fire. How much better would it be if Mac's hands moved lower?
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Actually . . . he really wasn't. He was attractive, handsome even, but he hadn't been doing a good job of showing that off to the elf. He was snarling and growling and being violent, not to mention he was the one who'd caught the poor kid to start with. And even though Ghost was translating, it wasn't really the same thing at all to what Mac was doing. Mac was speaking to the elf, in his own language, and seducing the kid with surprising ease. He was . . . jealous. He was definitely jealous, but he was also strangely lonely. He wanted to join in more, but all he did was scare the elf. There was only so much he could do to Mac without just shoving the kid away after all!
Uldren sighed and nipped Mac's spine, his hands sliding up and down the man's sides, "Get him off Mac. Show him how good it feels. All I do is scare him." He dragged his tongue over warm skin, fingers clenching on Mac's hips again as he rubbed against the man's ass. He wasn't made of stone and holding back was killing him, but he'd done this for Mac, in a fucked-up way. He'd like to be a more active participant, but what the hell could he do? Every move he made toward the elf was met with fear! It would just be better for Mac to do everything with the kid.
Ilormael heard the soft words that the Prince spoke, but they still made no sense. That was part of his fear, not knowing what was being said. Was the man instructing Mac to kill him or kiss him? As weird as their relationship seemed to be, he didn't feel all that confident Mac would stand up for him if it really came down to it. His glowing-eyed potential lover was in the Prince's thrall, and if the Prince decided he'd be a good sacrifice . . . Well, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd be more important than what the Prince wanted. And yet, he found himself moaning again as Mac's clever fingers played with his ears. He clung to the man breathing hard, feeling as if he was on fire. How much better would it be if Mac's hands moved lower?