[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Contemporary Fantasy Paranormal Romance, M/M, HEA]
Galen is next in line for the throne of the Earth Kingdom. With father ready to relinquish the throne, Galen must be mated. His father had already arranged a mate for him to meet and bond with. However, Galen has done his utmost to forget about said arranged mating until his father leaves him no choice but to fetch his mate home.
Finc is the illegitimate son of a noble and a low born woman. The half-brother to Galen’s arranged fiancé. Life had not been kind to him at all since his birth. However, with his mother, at least he had known love of the motherly kind, for a time, but all good things never lasted for long, especially in his case, and his only refuge against his reality was his writing and his best friend, Jory. That was, until the day he met Galen and knew deep in his bones that this was his fated mate.
Having his fated mate be his half-brother’s fiancé was so far off what he expected, but how would they ever have an acceptable bond when Finc’s biological father, as well as his step-family, were not willing to have the half-brothers trade places?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Now, it had been just a few days past his hundredth celebration, and no one had bothered holding a small ceremony for him. Cook had been the one to make him a small cake, which he shared with the other servants. It was from the gossip going around that he’d even come to know about Darix’s intended groom and that the man was the soon-to-be king of their kingdom and would be arriving anytime soon. The entire house was in an uproar with the impending visit of their soon-to-be king.
Darix had been primping and being more obnoxious than normal, ordering him about as though he were a servant. Sometimes, he really wanted to bash the other man’s head in and demand that he do whatever he wanted by himself and not bother him, especially when he was already busy getting lost in the fantasy world in his head.
Without the right writing materials, he’d been jotting down every thought and fantasy he had on paper that was not as good as the quality ones sold in the market. Even though his stepmother and Darix mocked him for it, they were stories he enjoyed and kept writing. They did not know this, but under a different name, he already had a few of his works out there with the help of Jory, his childhood friend and their nearest neighbor.
Jory had helped him to get good quality papers, and he transferred his work onto them, and together, they contacted different shops to sell his works in. Already, the name he wrote under—Funchent—was in steady demand. His work was well known within their kingdom. Even Darix spoke of it when his friends had all been talking about his work constantly for a week and in order not to look ignorant had gone out to buy one of his books.
No one knew that he was Funchent, and he preferred it that way. Let them all continue to ignore him. He just needed enough to move out of here and live on his own. Then everything would be all right, and he would not need to put up with them for much longer.
He had a plan already. He had already saved a lot from his stories. At first, with Jory’s help, they had been supplying his books to only one store, the biggest so far in their kingdom as it was the farthest from his home and no one would know so easily about it. They had never expected that the books would become a favorite of everyone, though, and be in much more demand than he was used to.
Soon, other stores had come calling to the bookstore he normally supplied to, demanding to have his work in their store. He had been shocked then elated, and he and Jory had celebrated his success together. But with him being the only one who wrote the books out by hand, it was hard to produce many copies of a single work, not to mention his other books.
It was good for him, though in the sense that it meant more money for him going into his secret savings, but bad in the sense that he could not meet the demand. He also did not have the time to put forth the other books he had written, transcribing them into sellable papers, so he had many works ready to sell but no way of getting them ready to go out.
Just a few days ago, he’d let Jory know about this issue, but his friend had no idea what they should do either, especially since he needed to keep his identity a secret. They had agreed to come up with an idea but nothing was in the offing yet. With the intention of dodging Darix’s attention, he’d hidden himself in an alcove no one really used with his big notepad in hand and his writing pencil, focused on getting more words out of his head as it was his only way of escaping his reality.
He just never expected that where he was hidden would give him a clear view of the riders riding hard for their house. The horses soon came to a stop in the compound, and the riders dismounted. Their leader, obvious from his position in front, got down first, followed by the other soldiers. Finc watched as Bojore, Darix and his stepmother, along with other servants from the house, quickly moved to greet the riders.
Finc watched as the leader took off his helmet, shaking his head and allowing his curls to fly freely around his face before turning to regard those who had come out to greet them. Breath caught in his chest and a gasp emitted from his lips in shock as he peered at the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his entire life.
By the spirit, please do not let him be the soon-to-be king.
Finc prayed, hoping in his heart, his writing forgotten as he leaned forward to get a closer look. The first things he noticed about the man were his chiseled face and the gray eyes he peered directly at. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, shaped in slanted oval orbs. The man was tall. He was really tall with a very muscular build, too, and had shoulder-length, curvy, brownish hair.
Never had Finc seen anyone so perfect before, and he hoped with all his being that this was not Darix’s intended. He had no idea what he would do if the man turned out to be his arrogant brother’s groom-to-be. He didn’t even want to think of it.
Please do not let him be. Please do not let him be the one.
Finc repeated it over and over in his mind, and leaned out more to watch the interaction between his family and the new arrivals. When he saw Darix bow toward the leader, the one whom Finc kept hoping was not his brother’s intended, his heart sank a bit. He had a feeling he would not like what he saw next, and true to his feeling, he saw Darix slide his hand into the leader’s arm and lead the man into the house. Finc felt his hope shatter and disappointment settle in like never before.
Galen crossed the floor and walked into the bedroom, separate from the receiving room, and stopped in his tracks. He stood transfixed, watching his mate naked and spread on the bed, awaiting him and felt his cock harden and curve upward, pointing toward his stomach as desire pooled into him at the erotic sight before him.
He moved toward the bed, unable to resist his mate, and crawled up the slender man’s body until he hovered over Finc, and then licked his lips and dropped his gaze to those soft red succulent lips. Licking his lips once more, Galen leaned in and pressed a tentative kiss to said lips.
“Delicious. Finally going to do what I’ve been wanting to ever since I met you,” Galen breathed.
“Yes, please,” Finc said, wrapping his hands around Galen’s neck and pulling the man closer still.
Galen slanted his head and kissed Finc, hard. Delving into the man’s mouth with months of suppressed passion and need and want and desire. He did not merely kiss Finc. No, he devoured the other man whole. Sucking, biting, swirling his tongue around Finc’s inexperienced one, then drawing it out to play, and what Finc lacked in experience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm.
“I cannot take my time this first time. I am sorry. But I will try after,” Galen said, his voice hoarse and apologetic all at once as his cock leaked precum onto Finc’s.
Finc pressed his lips to Galen’s once more, holding the man against him. “Have me. I’m yours.”
And with those words, it was as though a dam had broken in Galen, for he reached for a pillow and shoved it under Finc’s ass, and then as he began passionately kissing Finc once more, he reached down and palmed Finc’s cock in his hand and began stroking it.
He broke off the kiss and began trailing kisses down Finc’s body. His chin, his neck, his chest, and then he moved onto one nipple and used his fingernail to scrape against it. The hiss that released from Finc’s lips was a reward in itself, for it told Galen just how sensitive Finc really was. Galen used a thumb and forefinger to pluck at Finc’s nipple, rolling it in his hand and pinching it before scraping against it once more. When he placed his mouth on Finc’s other nipple and began using his teeth to gently play with it and sucking on it even as he used his fingers on the other, Finc jackknifed upward, crying out Galen’s name and moaning loudly.
“Tastes so good,” Galen said as he switched from one nipple to the other, sucking that one also into his mouth.
Yet, he never relented in slowly stroking Finc’s leaking cock, slowly driving his mate made with desire for him, doling out pleasure from both ends of his mate’s body.
“Galen! Galen,” Finc chanted, fisting the bedsheets beneath him as he did not understand what his mate was doing to his body, only that it was too much.
The pleasure was too much and yet somehow, not enough. He wanted more, he needed something, he didn’t understand, and his mind was not thinking but his body. Galen was playing his body like a finely tuned flute. Plucking and stroking where he wanted and blowing and sucking at what he wanted also. Each was slowly driving him out of his mind as tension began building in his body, and he was at a loss as to what to do or how to relieve it.
“Oh gods, too much…more…please…” Finc begged, not knowing what he was begging for but unable to stop the outpour of words from his mouth.
Finc’s cock hardened to the point of being painful as Galen kept stroking it, and he could feel something happened to him there. However, whenever he was close to the edge, Galen would retreat, back off, and he would yell obscenities at his mate. His mate’s only response to Finc’s cursing was a dark chuckle before he got back to what he was doing.
It was not long before he had reduced Finc to a crying, sobbing mess, panting and demanding relief, release, anything.
“When I’m ready, mate,” Galen responded and then, abandoning the extra-sensitive nipples, began working his way farther down Finc’s body.
Galen laved and licked and kissed his way down Finc’s body, his stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into Finc’s navel to taste the soft skin there and tease it with his teeth and tongue.
“Oh gooodddsss!!!” Finc hissed and yelled, slithering his hand up until he wound it around the silky strands of Galen’s brownish locks and held on tightly.
Another soft spot. Galen chuckled darkly to himself before paying it much more attention and playing with Finc’s balls. He tugged on the perfectly round sacs and rolled them in his palm before squeezing and playing with them some more.
“So responsive. So beautiful. So mine,” Galen said, pulling back to glance at his mate’s flushed face, satisfaction settling into his chest and pumping him full of more encouragements.