Cinder-Elliot

Cinder-Elliot by Erin O'Niall

Venus Press www.venuspress.com

Copyright ©2005 by Erin O'Niall

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Cinder-Elliot by Erin O'Niall

Everyone knows the tale of Cinderella—the girl with the wicked stepmother, two ugly stepsisters, and a glass slipper— who was swept off her feet by Prince Charming and rescued from a life of drudgery. Most people don't know that Cinderella had a twin brother, Elliot, whom no one mentioned in polite company. Not because he wasn't a hard worker, as most times Elliot worked until his fingers bled, covering-up for his twin's laziness while she dreamed of her prince. Not because he was ugly, for Elliot's face was as fair as hers, with dark, silky hair that just touched his shoulders, and a firm body bulging at all the right angles. Nor because he had a foul disposition, for his heart was kind, and his hands though roughened from work, were gentle. His voice was as sweet as the soft ring of wind chimes. His eyes were deep brown and expressive as those of an aged hunting hound. The reason no one mentioned him had little to do with his personality or appearance. No one mentioned him ... because he had once kissed a pageboy sent from the king, and when he'd said the page had kissed him first, no one believed him. They'd sent him to his tiny tower room and locked him inside for days, with only the memory of that kiss to sustain him. He remembered the soft, fullness of those lips, the salty flavor of skin, and the strength in that body. The page might have kissed him first, but Elliot had enjoyed it a great deal. If the page had ridden up to the castle like Cinderella's Prince Charming, Elliot would have climbed on the horse with him and never looked back. Unfortunately, the page hadn't come. Cinderella had gone away to marry her prince. Elliot was 3

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stuck with his wicked stepfamily who ignored him, and locked him away every time a pageboy came from the king. Elliot thought he'd never be rescued, until one day, his stepfamily went on vacation. They left him alone in the castle with an enormous list of things to do, and strict orders to lock himself in his room if anyone came to the door. His family would be gone for four days. As Elliot watched them roll away in their crystal carriage, he smiled, crumpled his list in his hand and walked back inside, whistling. He stalked into his stepmother's room, retrieved an elaborately embroidered silk robe, and stripped off his patched, shabby work clothes. Examining his nude body in the full-length mirror, he traced the taut muscles of his chest, ran his fingers through the thick curls, and slid his hand over his rippling stomach, moving down towards the semi-erect shaft between his legs. He smiled at his reflection, turning so he could see the curve of his buttocks. Still grinning, he slipped on the robe, savoring its softness against his workroughened skin, and tied the sash tight. The robe accentuated the angles of his body, and the black silk brought out his eyes. If that page were to come to the door now, Elliot was certain there'd be more than kisses. He wandered through the castle, which wasn't a proper castle but rather a large, musty house, added onto many times. A family legend claimed that construction had continued because the house's previous occupants couldn't stand the sight of one another. So, they'd each built a wing onto their house, complete with bathing and kitchen facilities, and retired to their individual sections. Elliot lived in the 4

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oldest part of the house, the farthest away from his stepsisters and stepmother as he could possibly be. Before Cinderella had been swept off her feet, she'd shared the place with him. Not only Elliot, but a few mice and rats, and a rather large population of spiders inhabited the place. He didn't mind the solitude. The rest of his family never ventured into his domain, so he was free to dress, act and decorate as he wished. His room would have been dark and dingy, but he'd scrubbed the floors and walls until they sparkled with new life. Up in the attic, he'd found yards upon yards of fabric, from which he'd fashioned himself a colorful quilt of pink, lavender, and bright blue silk. He'd even stuffed it with feathers, so it was not only pretty, but also warm. Pale pink netting framed the tiny window. He'd hung colorful bits of glass in the window, which caught the light, sending little rainbows skirting into every corner. A set of wind chimes fashioned from mismatched pipes hung near the window and tinkled softly when a bit of breeze stirred them. Mismatched chairs with pillows to match the quilt sat around a scarred table with uneven legs. Pieces of cloth spilled out of his sewing basket and a half finished pillow sat on top of it. The wardrobe that held his clothes had the doors missing. More of the pink and lavender silk hung over its front in place of the doors so that the piece of furniture looked a bit like an oversized woman against the wall. A moth-eaten bear rug covered the floor. To Elliot, the room was a sanctuary, a place where his family's demands meant nothing, where he could retreat to his fantasies of princes and pageboys undisturbed. 5

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Elliot had just settled himself at the table and pulled his sister's copy of How to Catch a Prince and Keep Him from his sewing basket when an enormous gong rang through the castle, rattling the glass in the windows and causing the floors to vibrate. The book fell from his numb fingertips. He glanced down at the silk robe, wondering if he should bother putting on clothing. His stepmother had told him to hide should anyone ring at the door, but she was far away, and besides, he'd already flouted all of her rules. He tightened the sash of the robe and strode off to the door. Peeking through the frosty glass window beside the door, he only caught a blurry glimpse of a human wearing blue and red, which were not the king's colors. It couldn't be the pageboy come to rescue him. Wiping his sweaty palms on the silk robe, Elliot cracked open the door and poked his head outside. A man stood on the threshold, a knight from the look of his gleaming armor. He kept his helm tucked under his arm, and his long, wavy blonde hair blew slightly in the breeze. He had his back to the door, obviously unaware of it being opened, sniffing at the roses that lined the walk. Elliot's heart beat a little faster. From behind, he appeared beautiful. "Can I help you?" The man startled, and nearly dropped his helm as he turned. "Oh, my good man, I seem to be lost. I'm supposed to be questing for a princess trapped by a wicked stepmother." He bit his lip, chewing it slightly. "Or was it a princess who'd fallen into an enchanted sleep." He tapped his finger against his lips. "Or was it a princess who—" 6

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Elliot's heart sank to the floor. "If you're looking for my sister, Cinderella, I fear you're already too late. Another prince came for her just last year. She's happily wed now." The knight sighed. "Oh dear, that's the third one I've missed out on. Which one was she?" "The one with the wicked stepmother and stepsisters." "You don't know of any others do you? My father insists that I find a princess right away." Elliot opened the door wider and stepped outside. The sunwarmed stones soothed his bare feet. He noticed the knight taking in the fanciful robe he had on, a strange expression crossing the man's face for a moment before vanishing. "I'm sorry," Elliot said. "I'm afraid I know of no other princesses. I live a rather sheltered life." The man's eyes roved down his silk-clad form. Elliot shifted slightly, liking the way the stranger's eyes lingered at his waistline. A rush of pleasure surged through him straight to his groin. He didn't bother trying to hide his growing excitement, simply smiled when the beautiful knight took notice. "So I see." The knight sighed again. "Well, then, I suppose I should be on my way. There's another castle up the way, and I—" Desperate for company, unwilling to let the stranger leave, he said: "Why don't you come in? We get so few visitors here, and I haven't had breakfast yet." Perhaps, just perhaps, he'd stay for more than breakfast, Elliot thought. The knight considered for a moment, then nodded and held out his hand. "Sir Mathias at your service." A smile 7

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touched his full, red lips. "But most people call me Matt." Elliot shook Matt's hand, wincing at the weak grip. "Elliot. Come in." He led Matt into the foyer. "You can leave your helm there." He pointed to an enormous hat tree next to the door. Then motioning the knight to follow him, he tightened the robe just a bit so that the back would cling to his buttocks. Matt's footsteps echoed in the hallway. It seemed to be the only sound in the castle except for the fast beating of Elliot's heart. He thought quickly, trying to decide what to do next. Should I change? But he didn't own a patch-free set of clothing. What should I serve for breakfast? He hadn't been to the market today, so there would be next to nothing to eat, except the fresh harvest of peaches, and Elliot had long ago grown tired of peaches. "This is a beautiful place." Elliot glanced around him, trying to find something beautiful about the dreary gray halls, hung with faded tapestries. "Yes, it is," he said, but didn't mean the words since he found the décor hideous. They stepped into the informal dining room, and he motioned for Matt to sit at the table. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable." Elliot dashed out of the room, racing down the hall to the kitchen, heart pounding, robe flying open, having absolutely no idea what he should do next. The kitchen was neat and tidy, just as he'd left it after dinner the night before. He threw open the cupboard doors and stared at the meager supplies inside: a stale loaf of bread, a quarter wedge of cheese sporting a thin skin of 8

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mold, and peaches, lots and lots of peaches. Hardly a meal fit for a prince. He glanced down at his clothing, the way the robe's belt had come untied and left his groin exposed. He needed to find clothing to wear, even if it meant he'd end up in his stepmother's things. "What am I going to do?" Leaning his head against one of the cupboard doors, he drew in a shuddering breath. "The man of my dreams is in the other room, and I haven't even gone to the market." He picked up one of the peaches, turning it around and around, wincing at the pithy feel of the fruit. Even the peaches were going bad. He needed to do something with them but hadn't even enough flour to make a pie. "I wish I had a magic wand and then I'd—" "You rang," said a deep, husky voice behind him. Elliot whirled around, for a moment forgetting his nudity, wondering who'd crept into the kitchen when he wasn't looking. What he saw left his mouth hanging open. The man could hardly have been more than two feet high, and had coal-black hair and porcelain white skin. Wearing only a filmy pair of trousers, along with a number of bracelets on each arm, he stood on the butcher-block table, arms crossed, with a pair of gossamer wings fluttering on his back. He arched a jet brow at Elliot. "You called for me?" Elliot found his voice. "Who are you?" The man chuckled. "Your fairy godfather, of course. Surely you aren't totally daft." "Fairy godfather?" Elliot shook his head. "Only princesses have fairy godmothers. You must be some sort of devil." 9

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The fairy rolled his eyes and jumped off the table to float at eye-level an arm's length from Elliot. "Princesses have fairy godmothers, and princes have fairy godfathers." He looked down at Elliot's sparse clothing. "My, you do need help." He glanced over Elliot's shoulder and cleared his throat. "I do detest peaches." "What kind of help—" The fairy fluttered back to the table. "Well first, you need something to feed the dashing, young prince besides peaches." He pulled a wand from the waistband of his pants, and with a quick wave, a feast appeared on the butcher block: fresh strawberries and sweet cream, roasted chicken and lamb, pears in syrup sauce. Elliot's mouth watered at the sight. "Th-thank you." "No problem, Darling. Now..." Floating towards Elliot, wings fluttering madly, as he flew around him like Elliot was some sort of stallion being assessed for breeding. "You've got a nice toolbox there." The fairy pointed at Elliot's groin with his wand. "I'm sure that will make your prince very happy, later." Elliot's face flushed. "Excuse me?" His godfather met his eyes, an incredulous stare danced on the miniature face. "You are going to seduce him aren't you?" "Well, I—" "What do you think the princesses do when their princes come?" The fairy wagged his eyebrows and chuckled. "They do not just sit and fawn over their gentlemen, I assure you. 10

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Once they've been carried off, they seduce their men. Otherwise, there'd be no happily ever after." "Oh." Elliot licked his lips, trying to look anywhere but at the fairy. "I—" "Is he a top or bottom?" The question drew Elliot's gaze back to the fairy. "What? I don't—" The phrase died on Elliot's lips as he thought about the possibility of what top and bottom could mean. The fairy scowled. "Versatile?" Elliot felt his cheeks turning red, and he stared at the floor unable to meet the fairy's gaze. The fairy tapped the wand against his lips. "You'll learn soon enough, I'm sure. We'll just give you versatile attire." The fairy waved the wand. Elliot's robe vanished, replaced by a pair of white pantaloons, which covered his legs from thighs to knees, leaving his groin bare, with a slit in the back. "I can't wear this!" The godfather laughed. "Of course not! You need accessories." Another wave of the wand produced two fat, silver bracelets adorned with large lapis stones, and a thinner ankle bracelet, also silver yet set with glittering sapphires. The fairy grinned. "Ankle bracelets are all the rage now. All the young men are wearing them." "But I can't wear these!" "Nonsense! Of course you can. It'll drive your man mad. He'll have his head—" "I can't wear these pants!" Elliot curled his hands into fists. "He'll think I'm a..." "A whore?" The fairy tapped his wand against his lips a moment. "Perhaps you're right." He pointed the wand at Elliot 11

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and a brief burst of light sprang from its tip. The pants now covered Elliot's groin but still retained the slit in the back. "There, just a hint of a tease." "But—" "Well, Darling, you want him in your bed don't you?" "But I—" "Yes, maybe a few more accessories." An earring now dangled from Elliot's right ear, a silver chain draped itself around his neck, heavy against his bare skin. "Oh, you look positively edible!" The fairy clapped his hands, spinning in the air. "Sometimes I amaze myself." Elliot stared down at his scanty clothing and shook his head. "This won't do." "Of course it'll do. Your man won't be able to take his eyes off you." Black brows rose slightly. "I can barely take my eyes off you." The serving cart rolled out of its closet with another wave of the fairy's wand, and the food loaded itself onto the cart. "Now go out there and claim your man. The visiting princes aren't the only ones who have to work." A magical push sent Elliot stumbling toward the cart. "Be sure to make eye contact, and simper a bit. They love it when you simper, bat your eyes a few times." Elliot took a swing at him. The fairy dashed out of the way with a giggle. "I'll bat at you. I can't see him like this. He'll—" "He'll think you're positively divine, which you are, Darling. No go on." 12

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Reluctantly, Elliot pushed the cart towards the door. "If this doesn't work—" "Oh it will, Darling." The fairy suddenly appeared in front of Elliot's face. "Just one more thing." "What?" "You do know how to suck cock, don't you?" Elliot opened his mouth, but found himself unable to reply to the question, his cheeks burned as his face turned red. The fairy sighed. "Slow and steady, Darling. Drive him mad with a bit of tease." With that the fairy just vanished without a sound. Elliot licked his lips, slowly pushing the cart to the dining room, trying hard not to think of the way his backside felt exposed, or that his cock, after all the fairy's teasing, was starting to make its needs known. Sir Mathias had taken off his gleaming breastplate and bracers, and now sat at the dining table wearing a loose shirt that hung open to his navel, exposing his taut belly and golden curls of chest hair. He appeared to be paying studious attention to his nails when Elliot wheeled the cart through the doorway. "Oh dear." Matt looked up, startled. "I hope you don't mind." He pointed at his shirt. "That armor is dreadfully hot and uncomfortable, always poking me in all the wrong places, if you understand?" "I'm afraid I don't, but feel free to make yourself comfortable. You're my guest, after all." Elliot wheeled the cart towards the table, trying hard to ignore his growing arousal as well as keep his face from flushing. He kept his 13

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attention fixed on the food as he set the table, then winced when he realized he'd forgotten a bottle of wine. He'd have to go back to the kitchen for it, and he'd have to turn his back to Matt, who'd notice where his pantaloons were slit. Reaching for the goblets, he gasped, noticing a bottle of wine on the lower shelf of the cart. Had I put that there and not noticed? Or had the fairy done that? Relief flooded through him as he settled the goblets and wine on the table, still avoiding Matt's gaze. The cart empty, he finally had to look up and take his seat to Matt's left. Elliot studied Matt's long fingers and situated himself just close enough that Matt could touch him without effort. The prince's eyes were riveted on him, nearly glowing with some sort of emotion. Was it attraction? Or simply curiosity? Elliot couldn't tell, so he smiled briefly and pointed to the food. "Help yourself." Matt finally noticed the food and his eyebrows rose. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble." "No trouble," Elliot said as he poured the wine. "It was almost like magic." He nearly laughed at those words. "You must have a marvelous cook." Matt helped himself to the chicken, putting several pieces on his plate and picking at them rather sloppily. Elliot felt his lip curl in disgust. This was a prince? Had his keepers not taught him better manners? And yet, he was so very beautiful, and his hands appeared wonderfully deft. And those lips would surely drive any man mad. He decided he'd worry about Matt's manners later, much later. 14

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"Oh, yes, we do." He winced at the lie. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell the prince he was little more than a scullery maid and handyman. "What is it you do around here?" Elliott dipped a strawberry in cream and stared at it, watching the cream drip from the fruit. "I suppose you'd say I'm a jack of all trades." "Oh?" Matt looked up from his pile of meat, noticing the fruit Elliot held. His greasy fingers closed around Elliot's wrist and pulled the berry towards his lips. He licked the cream away and bit into the tender fruit. Their eyes met. "What sort of trades?" Elliot's heart hammered frantically. Surely, Matt didn't think him some sort of courtesan, did he? "Many things." His voice came out in a squeak, as he tried to steer his thoughts away from the way Matt's lips continued to lap the berry juice from his fingers. A tiny moan left his lips. The prince turned his wrist over and kissed it just above the base of his hand. His thumb traced the contours of Elliot's palm. "Rough hands." His voice sounded a bit like a kitten's purr. "A woodcutter perhaps?" "Y-yes." Elliot swallowed hard. "A coachman?" Matt's lips moved downward to plant a kiss in Elliot's palm. Shivers danced down Elliot's skin while his nipples grew taut. "No, not really." He closed his eyes, unable to look at the prince any longer, suddenly doubting whether he really wanted this game to continue. "I'm just a servant," he whispered. Hearing the prince's chair scrape against the stone 15

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floor, he winced when those entrancing lips stopped their attention. Elliot sighed, certain he'd disgusted the prince. Soft hands touched his shoulders. He tilted his head upwards to stare into Matt crystal blue eyes. The soft lips dropped lower and lower until they touched Elliot's. They were soft and hard all at once, gentle in their exploration, yet demanding in their need. "In my land, a kiss in the palm is an invitation to intimacy. Is it not so in yours?" Elliot toyed with the ends of Mathias's hair and nipped at his lips several times. "I wouldn't know. I lead a sheltered life, as I said earlier." His thumb caressed the prince's cheek. "I thought you were looking for a princess? I hear tell of another one further on, something about a woman with fantastic hair." A smile touched Matt's lips and he leaned down for a kiss that left Elliot's heart hammering and his cock aching. "My father wishes me to find a princess. I have other plans. But the availability of young princes seems to be a problem. You did say your sister was a princess, did you not?" "Yes, but—" The hands on his shoulders moved down his bare chest while Mathias attacked his lips again, parting them with his tongue. "Then you should be a prince, shouldn't you?" "Yes, but—" "Surely, there is somewhere more comfortable we can continue this conversation, Elliot." Matt pulled away slightly, smiling. "That is if you accept my invitation." Elliot took several deep breaths before sliding from his chair. He reached for Matt's hand, trying to decide where to 16

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take him. Surely not his room with its makeshift decor and besides it was too far away. His stepmother's would have to do, even if it was painted in that hideous yellow. He slipped his fingers in between the prince's and summoned a smile. "I accept." Matt pulled him close, pressing their bodies together. Their lips met. Their mouths parted. For some time their tongues fought and danced together. Elliot broke their contact, and without another word, took Matt's hand, leading him towards his stepmother's bedroom. Elliot led his prince to the satin-covered bed, and Matt pressed against him, his lips just brushing over Elliot's. "Your room?" "No." Elliot slid his hands under Matt's shirt, eager to touch the pale skin, and run his fingers through the golden curls on Matt's chest. "Do you like it?" Matt gasped as Elliot teased his nipples. "The bed's nice," he whispered, gently lowering Elliot to the covers. He administered a searing kiss before pulling the shirt over his head. Elliot laid his hands on the prince's washboard stomach, moving them upward, pausing to tweak the rosy nipples. He drew Matt down until their bare chests touched. Matt's arousal pressed against Elliot's thigh. "Yes, it is." He lost himself in more kisses, moaning as Matt slipped a hand between them and toyed with his nipples. "The company's nice too." Matt's lips wandered from his mouth, over his chin, down to a nipple, circling it with a hungry tongue, wetting it thoroughly before blowing so that it hardened to an almost painful peak. Elliot gasped. 17

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His breath came a little more rapidly. He closed his eyes, trying to absorb the sensation of Matt's hands, one moving slowly down his belly, the other tracing the inside of his thigh, while his tongue paid homage to his nipples. Elliot moaned, certain he'd die from pleasure. And then Matt's hand slid down further, closing around his cock and stroking through the silken fabric covering it. Elliot's back arched when he cried out. Matt kissed his way back to Elliot's lips, along his jaw-line, his fingers leaving Elliot's cock long enough to find the drawstring of the pantaloons. "I wanted you the moment I saw you," he said in Elliot's ear. Nimble fingers worked the pants open, and a soft hand freed Elliot's cock. "I thought you were so beautiful. I almost shoved you against the wall and kissed you when you opened the door." "You did?" Tears stung Elliot's eyes as Matt traced the underside of his shaft, barely touching the sensitive skin. Up and down. Elliot's heart pounded so hard, he thought it would beat its way out of his chest. Matt smiled and chuckled. "Yes, I did." He stood, and Elliot raised himself up to watch him remove his boots and breeches. His thick cock rose from a nest of amber curls, a drop of moisture glistening on its crown. Matt paused long enough to retrieve a slim vial from his shirt pocket, before stretching himself along Elliot's body, every inch of their skin touching. Their lips met. Elliot cupped Matt's ass, loving the way it molded to his hands. "I want you inside me," Matt whispered and slid a hand between their bodies to stroke 18

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Elliot's cock. He pulled away to uncap the vial, pouring the sweet-smelling oil into his hand. "What are you—" "Shh, Baby." The oil-slicked hand closed around Elliot's shaft again, stroking up and down until it glistened. "I'll do all the work." A wicked grin touched Matt's lips. "This time." He motioned for Elliot to move up on the bed. Elliot shifted, knocking several dainty pillows into the floor as he settled in the middle of the bed. Matt climbed up, straddling his lover's waist. Elliot grasped his hips and pulled him forward enough that he could lick the moisture from the head of that thick cock. He closed his lips around it, swirling his tongue around the head, which drew harsh gasps from Matt, who pulled away. "Plenty of time for that." He positioned his ass over Elliot's cock and leaned forward. "I want you inside me first." He grasped Elliot's shaft, guiding it to his opening, then he lowered himself onto it, moaning, pausing frequently, until he finally had the length inside. Elliot stroked Matt's thighs, closing his eyes. He had no way to compare the tight wave of heat wrapping itself around his cock. He'd never felt anything remotely like it; he loved it. Matt began to move slowly, drawing a hoarse cry from Elliot's throat. Matt took one of Elliot's hands, laying it against his cock. "Stroke it." Elliot obeyed, stroking his lover, feeling the heat slide up and down his shaft. "Open your eyes, Elliot. I want to see your eyes when you come." Elliot opened his eyes to drink in the sight of his lover rocking on his cock. Matt's head was tilted back. His mouth 19

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parted slightly, and his muscles shifted subtly as he moved, almost like a racehorse in motion. Elliot moaned then stroked Matt's cock faster. Matt looked down at Elliot, like an angel perched above him, smiling. He gripped Elliot's cock tighter and leaned forward to capture Elliot's wrists and pin them at his sides. He never stopped moving. "Come, Elliot." Matt moaned and closed his eyes for a moment. "I want your seed inside me." A whimper escaped Elliot's lips. Matt leaned forward for a quick kiss, sweat shining on his body, his musky scent filling Elliot's senses. Raising up, almost freeing Elliot's cock, he slid back down again with a moan. Hot liquid spurted over Elliot's chest while Elliot cried out, spilling his own seed deep inside his lover's body. Matt rolled to the side, letting Elliot's member slide from his body. For a while, they simply lay side by side, panting. Matt pulled Elliot close and kissed him. "That was beautiful," he whispered, kissing his way down to Elliot's chest, where he licked his own seed away. "You're a mess." He chuckled then kissed Elliot again, leaving behind his taste on his lover's lips. "I don't suppose you have a bath in this place." "We do." Elliot traced his jaw-line. "And it's close. And we don't even have to carry water." Matt stood and pulled Elliot to his feet. "Lead the way then." For the rest of the week, Mathias and Elliot talked and laughed, and made love. Elliot forgot about his chores, and forgot about his family's impending return. After that first 20

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fevered fit of passion, Elliot led Matt to his own room, staring at the floor while the prince inspected the meager quarters. He'd expected to be rebuked, but Matt had pronounced the space homey and fit for a king. They'd seldom left after that, except when Elliot shyly admitted the white pantaloons were the only piece of clothing he owned that weren't patched and threadbare. "We'll remedy that," Matt said. They rode into town, Elliot riding pillion behind Matt, his chest pressing into Matt's back. At the tailor's, Matt ordered three sets of clothes made. The tailor, who knew Elliot's face quite well, had simply stared until Matt jingled his purse. Then he'd set about measuring Elliot. Matt also bought him a floppy hat with a pheasant feather sprouting from it, and a pair of soft boots for wearing indoors. Of course, when the clothes did arrive, Elliot hadn't even bothered to open the packages. He'd spent most of the week naked, or else wearing nothing but the white pantaloons, which were now missing the bit of fabric that covered his groin. Elliot lost all track of time. On the morning of his family's return, the castle floors still needed scrubbing, cobwebs adorned the ceilings, the hearths were still filled with ash, and the dishes were unwashed. When the gong rang announcing their return, Elliot was on his hands and knees with Matt's cock buried deep inside him. He barely heard the gong over his own moaning and panting. As it finally registered, his passion cooled slightly. "Oh no," he gasped. 21

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"What?" Matt's thrusting slowed a bit, and he leaned forward to kiss Elliot's shoulder, licking away beads of sweat. "They're back." "Forget them, Baby," Matt muttered. "Let's finish what we started." Matt's hand closed around Elliot's cock, stroking in time to the thrusts of his hips. Their rhythm picked up pace, and the gong rang again and again. He never heard it. By the time footsteps sounded outside his door, he was moaning, "Harder! Harder!" Over and over again. When the door burst open, he cried out in release and Matt slumped against his back, murmuring compliments. "What is the meaning of this!" His stepmother's voice sounded far away, and Elliot barely registered his father's entrance or his stepmother's look of shock and disgust. "How dare you? In my house too! I'll have you both—" Elliot, finally noticing their audience, tried to reach for a blanket to cover them both, but instead he lost his balance and fell onto his side laughing. Matt looked from the pair in the door to Elliot and back again, slowly smiling. "Are you tossing him out? Because I have a wonderful cabin up in the mountains that—" Elliot's father shook his head, shoving his wife out the door. "It's about damned time someone took an interest in that boy. I thought his stepmother had ruined him." He nodded at Matt. "Thank you—" "Mathias. Prince Mathias." "Well, then." Elliot's father rubbed his hands together in anxious glee. "He's all yours, with my blessing. Feel free to 22

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stay as long as you like." Elliot's stepmother let out an indignant squawk, and his father shook his head. "You might want to stay in this wing though. I'm afraid the shock might kill poor Mildred if she saw you together again." He grinned, shutting the door behind him. Elliot lay stunned, unable to process what he'd just heard. Matt started laughing and Elliot soon joined in the mirth. When they lay in each other's arms, kissing, Elliot said, "Do you really have a cabin in the mountains?" "Oh yes. There's wonderful fishing there. And skiing. And— " "Take me there," Elliot whispered. "Oh, I will." He did, and they lived happily ever after.

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