Summer had to bite her lip for a moment before she could speak. “You promised me kisses, Victor darling,” she managed, voice rough. She wanted so badly it was dancing that knife edge between pain and pleasure. “If this is payback I’m not sorry. Please. I want,” she panted, “I want you to bring me with your hands and your mouth. Right now. Please.”
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Kris ran his thumbs over the back of the prince’s hands, soothing and soft. ‘Don’t push,’ he warned himself. ‘No more pushing.’ He followed Harry’s kiss with a few more, still gentle, still chaste, before lifting one of Harry’s hands to his mouth and kissing his fingertips.
Hal had not rejected as he did so abruptly before, pulling away with much less of a struggled expression as he wore before. He looked down as Kris began to kiss each one of his fingertips, his fingers to twitch only so slightly by the gentle kisses.
Lightly, now, Kris introduced his tongue, flicking the tip of it at marks on Harry’s fingers, kissing down into the palm and over the heel of the hand. He bit at the base of the thumb before tucking Harry’s hand up against his face and mirroring the position himself.
More kisses, then, to the edges of Harry’s mouth, along his jawline, Kris snubbing his nose up behind Harry’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.