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A King's Vow (MM)

Etopia Press

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 47,234
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Can the vow of a warrior king win a heart and save a kingdom?

Feared by enemies and allies alike, Naxar is reputed to be utterly merciless, without a human heart or soul. As he captures the throne of Kenta, a letter summons him to Ashwall Castle in the land of his birth, a place he left behind years ago to wage war and take his place in the world. Ashwall is caught in the grip of famine, and Prince Adonias, his childhood friend, desperately needs his help. When Naxar arrives, he finds the prince as hauntingly beautiful as ever, with the golden eyes of a true blood mage. But the prince wants nothing to do with Naxar or his aid. And he wants nothing to do with the marriage alliance his father has arranged between him and the unwitting Naxar. But the prince reawakens something in Naxar, a heart he thought had ceased to beat, and Naxar's determined to make the deal.

Prince Adonias only wants one thing—to end the famine ravaging his country. His blood magic is the key, but he hasn't mastered its power. And he doesn't see how he can, now that his father has sold him for food and soldiers to the brutal Naxar, the warrior king who bears no resemblance to the boy Adonias used to know. Adonias knows his magic can solve their problems, but only if he can make it work before his marriage to the madman. And before his own countrymen fall into the superstitious fear of his golden blood-mage eyes. As the rumors begin to swirl around them, blaming Adonias for the blight killing their crops, Adonias fears for his life and his kingdom. And when his father insists he use the dark side of his magic, the choice is anything but simple: submit to the power in his blood...or to the man who heats his blood to boiling with a single kiss...


Before Naxar could do anything else, Adonias grabbed him by his doublet and dragged him into another kiss, pouring all of himself into it.

Naxar groaned against him. His hands came around to pull Adonias tight against his body. His hips moved, and Adonias sucked in a breath as he felt the other man’s erection pressing hard against him. The proof of Naxar’s arousal made him feel powerful. Alive. His own cock was rock hard, straining against his breeches.

Naxar slid his hands down Adonias’s back to cup his ass. The touch sent sparks flying through his body. He gasped as Naxar ground his stiff cock against Adonias’s hard length, their breeches keeping them apart but also adding knee-weakening friction to every grind of his hips.

Suddenly, Naxar swung him around so his back was pressed against the trunk of the willow tree. His lips tingled, swollen from the kissing, and his cock ached for the return of that wonderful friction. He reached for Naxar again, yearning for both to continue.

With one big hand, Naxar pinned him to the tree. The man’s stare seemed hot enough to light Adonias on fire as Naxar brought his other hand oh-so-teasingly up Adonias’s thigh, then slowly stroked over where his cock throbbed against his breeches.

He groaned, thrusting his hips forward, eager for more touch, more friction. Nothing mattered but easing the desperate ache inside him. He ignored all other distractions. Insects. The smell of the swamp. His own nervously pumping heart. Those things were all pushed aside by the crashing wave of his desire as it swallowed everything.

Slowly, almost as if the man were tormenting him, Naxar began to unlace Adonias’s breeches. Then Naxar’s warm hand reached inside, finding Adonias’s cock and drawing it free. His fingers brushed lightly along the hard length, drawing a gasp from the prince.

Naxar chuckled deeply as his thumb caressed the tip of Adonias’s manhood, finding the slit already weeping precum. With his thumb, he drew that wetness down below the head of his cock, along the underside of the shaft, leaving Adonias breathless. He kept one hand pinning the prince against the tree as the other began to slowly work Adonias’s cock in long, slow strokes along the silken skin.

Pleasure built inside him, flaring higher and hotter as Naxar increased the speed of his strokes. The man’s hand was so skilled, Adonias knew he was only moments from shooting his seed everywhere like some inexperienced lover. He opened his mouth to protest, to warn the man to slow down or he would lose control.

He didn’t get a word out. Naxar pulled him into a fierce kiss, stilling his protest. Adonias’s head was spinning, and his blood rushed through his veins. The warrior king gently but firmly turned him around so the prince’s ass faced him. Adonias had both hands pressed against the rough bark of the tree trunk to support him as he leaned forward. His knees felt wobbly as if they might buckle at any moment.

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