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The Wanting

Chapter 14

When Etienne arrived at Howlester Manor, it was raining so hard he could hardly see. He had gotten onto the estate by climbing the wall - only to discover the servant in the gatehouse was sleeping and the grounds were empty. No one came to the door when he rang. Granted, it was the middle of the night. He rang again and waited a beat, hugging himself and shivering in the downpour.

As planned, Etienne had walked on foot from Sudbury Lyn to Howlester. He hadn't a choice anyway: the son of a bitch he slept with at The Twin Whistle had stolen everything of value on his person but for his clothes. His coin purse, all Corene's jewelry - and his father's ring, right off his finger! He felt stupid and naïve for not seeing it coming. The stranger had practically warned him at the bar beforehand. And in hindsight, the stranger's reluctance to hold him or kiss him suddenly made sense: the bastard felt _guilty_for his premeditated robbery!

Etienne got tired of waiting. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was the crown prince of fucking Varimore. If he was arrested for breaking and entering, all he had to do was namedrop. He backtracked around the side of the manor, his eyes scanning the webs of vine that snaked over the towering walls. Howlester Manor seemed to go on forever. Most of the windows had grills shaped like flowers and vines, and all of them were shut against the rain. He stopped when he finally came to a set of windows that were open. What was more, a cluster of very thick vines conveniently led from the window and to the ground far below. Destiny was finally lending him a paw.

Etienne grabbed the vines and started up, glad for all the physical training he had endured while at university. He could hear his instructor now, screaming for him to get his "royal ass" up the rope. It didn't take long before he was peering into the window. The room was dark and silent. Moonlight streamed across the bed. Someone was sleeping there, on their back, on top of the red coverlet.

Etienne hauled himself up as quietly as he could. The window squeaked when he pushed it aside, but the figure on the bed remained still. The prince carefully set his boots on the floor, one after another, and the mud on them stained the carpet. Rainwater collected in puddles under him as he stood for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A cushioned chair stood nearby and he tossed his sopping wet coat across it, then sat and removed his boots.

He couldn't believe he hadn't woken the figure on the bed yet. He thought feverishly of what he could say to explain this intrusion. What if it was the Charles from the letter? How would he explain? "Hi, Charles. I came all this way to see you because my father mentioned you in a letter. Sorry for breaking and entering. I'll replace the carpet."

Etienne had removed his boots when the figure on the bed moaned in their sleep. He rose and slowly approached the bed . . . only to halt when he finally saw the dog's face.

"It can't be," Etienne said in amazement. He shook his head.

But it was. It was the same bastard from The Twin Whistle - _Jonathan_was his name! - who'd stolen from him and left him penniless. He would know that handsome face anywhere, that red mane, that sculpted chest. The foxhound was sleeping with his shirt off and breeches on, one arm behind his head. He looked peaceful. Content. Well, Etienne would soon fix that.

Eyes dark with silent rage, Etienne clapped a big paw on the foxhound's wrist and slammed it above his head. The hound's eyes snapped open and he stared at Etienne in horror. "You! Holy shi --!" The words choked in his mouth when Etienne snatched his other paw from behind his head and slammed it too. The foxhound bucked, but Etienne straddled him easily, using his weight to subdue him as he held his wrists in one paw and fumbled to get his belt off with the other.

As the foxhound watched in horror, Etienne tied his wrists with his belt. Suddenly furious, he brought his bound wrists up and tried to hit Etienne in the face, but Etienne pinned his wrists again easily. The foxhound's chest heaved. His cries were enraged, but they became weak and desperate as Etienne's paw began to explore.

"Leave off me!" the foxhound hissed. "Ah! What are you doing? S-Stop . . . son of a bitch!"

Etienne was sucking his nipple, slowly, carefully. One paw held the foxhound's wrists to the pillows, the other smoothed over his muscular belly - which was trembling violently - to his breeches. The foxhound had a considerable bulge. Etienne squeezed it hard and heard him moan.

"You ass! S-Stop! Stop touching . . . ah . . ." Jonathan swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Etienne had slipped his paw in his breeches and was caressing his soft penis in careful fingers. "D-Don't . . . ah . . . don't touch me . . ."

Etienne easily flipped the foxhound onto his side. He cuddled up behind him, locking his big arm around his throat. He smiled when the foxhound sputtered from the chokehold. He started to wriggle angrily, cursing and swearing. Etienne ignored him. He hooked his thumb in the hound's breeches and yanked, roughly jerking them down, baring his hard backside and pinning his tail to his thigh. Out sprang his erection, and it wobbled against the air as he squirmed to get free.

Etienne fumbled to undo his own breeches, and when his enormous erection slapped the foxhound's backside, he twisted and struggled even harder to get away.

"You wouldn't dare!" the foxhound snarled. "Don't even think about - mpfh!"

Etienne casually tightened his big arm around the hound's throat, silencing him. He spit on his paw and smoothed the saliva over his penis. He was enormous in his passion, pulsing with veins, thick and upright, and ready to punish. He pealed the foxhound's squirming butt cheek open and pressed the head of his penis to the tight pink knot under his tail.

"N-No! Don't put - unfh!"

Etienne slid himself home, hard and fast. He was so thick that Jonathan choked to silence, only grunting and gasping as he was ridden deep and slow. He was still twisting to get away, even as his penis grew harder. "You bastard," he whispered breathlessly. "Ah . . . a-ah . . . s-stop . . . oh, god."

Etienne pulled him closer, buried kisses in his neck, nuzzled him and fondled him as his erection drummed deep inside. In and out, he slid. Carefully. Slowly. His muscular body flexing against Jonathan's with every thrust. He panted in the foxhound's ear, whispering his delight as he fondled him. And try as he might, the foxhound could not stifle his cries of pleasure.

Etienne felt himself flinching to hold back. The foxhound was incredibly tight, his anus squirming and hot and relentless. He pressed his hips to Jonathan's backside, and he came so hard in his anus, his seed over spilled, trickling white down his thighs. He pulled himself free with a soft squelch and watched as Jonathan sagged on his side, breathless and weak.

"Un . . . untie me," Jonathan panted as Etienne trailed lazy kisses up his neck. "I said stop it! And untie me!"

"Why don't you scream for help?" Etienne mocked.

Jonathan cursed.

Etienne looked at him and thought he was damn beautiful. He lay on his back, wrists bound above his head, muscular chest heaving, strong arms twisting to pull free of the belt, rippling belly trembling with rage . . . red mane in those furious eyes. His penis was still rock hard, standing with arousal and throbbing against the air.

Back at The Twin Whistle, Etienne had wanted more than anything to give Jonathan oral pleasure. His was a beautiful penis, silky-soft and smelling of such a delicious musk. But Jonathan had not allowed him to. Etienne looked in Jonathan's glinting eyes as he extended his tongue and carefully licked the length of his shaft.

Jonathan's eyes softened. "Ooooh . . . don't," he whispered. "Please."

Etienne kept going, licking in hard strokes from sack to head.

"Ah . . . . . ."

"Mmm . . ."

"E-Etienne . . ."

Etienne paused. "You know my name."

Jonathan swallowed hard and said nothing. His bound paws were still above his head. Etienne continued the slow assault, and Jonathan's rippling belly heaved every time the prince sucked him in a particularly pleasing way. Etienne watched his body for signs and soon came to realize that Jonathan liked having the head of his penis kissed and sucked more than anything else. He slid his lips back and sucked the head carefully, looking in Jonathan's helpless eyes as he pleased him. He dragged his tongue to his heavy sack and slowly slurped it. Jonathan stifled a cry and erupted. "A-Ahh!" Etienne watched with narrowed eyes as the white fluid trickled down his veined erection. Then his penis went soft and flopped - as if exhausted - on thigh. Etienne licked him clean without hesitation and felt himself getting hard again.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Jonathan turned his face away as Etienne trailed careful kisses up his belly. "Just because you're a prince," he protested, watching breathlessly as Etienne kissed his chest, "doesn't mean you can just take whatever you want!"

Etienne stopped to look at him. "Why? You took what you wanted from me." He frowned. "You took more than jewelry that night."

". . . I'm sorry."

Etienne laughed. "No, you're not. Try again and I might untie you."

Jonathan glowered. "Fine. I'm not sorry at all, you --"

Etienne kissed him without warning. Hard. When their lips pealed apart, Jonathan was left with his eyes closed, eyebrows raised, still tasting the kiss. He opened his eyes and glanced sheepishly at Etienne, who was lying beside him, smiling at him.

Jonathan looked away.

"Not bad," Etienne whispered and turned Jonathan's face, forcing him to look at him. "A little more tongue this time . . ." He kissed Jonathan again, tenderly.

After that second kiss, Jonathan lay for a long time with his eyes closed. Etienne stroked his mane.

"Why are you doing this?" Jonathan whispered.

Etienne smiled. "It's fun."

Jonathan glared. "Untie me!"

"No," was the simple answer. Etienne put his arms behind his head and smugly smiled.

Jonathan shivered with rage. "Argh!" But even as he was glaring, his penis was getting hard. He noticed and tried to turn over.

Etienne noticed it too. He drew Jonathan close by the hip and carefully rubbed their hard penises together. He didn't break eye contact with Jonathan, who swallowed and bit his lip, staring into Etienne's triumphant blue eyes helplessly.

"What are you thinking," Etienne whispered, "right now?"

"That we're cousins, you idiot."

Etienne halted.

"And that you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen." Jonathan scooted close, and after looking at Etienne lips, he kissed him and rubbed his nose against his.

Etienne shied away. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. His erection had gone down immediately and he buttoned his trousers with fumbling paws. He could hear Jonathan shifting behind him on the coverlet.

"What's the matter?" Jonathan asked wearily.

"We're cousins! You're the Jonathan from the letter - oh, god."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Well, if that's all it took, I would have said so long ago. Going to untie me now?" He offered his bound paws. "Or would you like to suck your cousin's dick again?"

"Shut up!"

Jonathan laughed. "How'd you get here anyway? You climb through my window covered in mud and fuck me. And without explanation?" He scooted to the edge of the bed and sat beside Etienne, who hardly seemed able to look at him for his shame. Jonathan's eyes softened and he gave Etienne a nudge with his elbow. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad. And purebreds breed with their cousins, don't they?"

Etienne's lip curled. "I am prince of Varimore. I don't _have_to in-breed. And especially not with an asshole like you," he said scathingly, but he reached over and started untying the belt from Jonathan's wrists. "Why'd you steal my jewelry anyway? You're not exactly wanting." He jerked his head at the expensive trinkets standing on the tables and shelves around the room.

Paws now free, Jonathan averted his eyes as he buttoned up his trousers: he was certainly wanting something. "You weren't the only one running away, your majesty. I normally attend university and stay on campus year-round. Got expelled." He shrugged moodily.

Etienne jerked with a laugh. "I knew you were a screw up the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Ass," Jonathan muttered and nudged Etienne with his elbow again.

The prince laughed again. He was cute when he was laughing and the sound was . . . nice. Jonathan suddenly wanted to make him laugh all the time. But he couldn't think of anything funny. Then he looked at Etienne's lips and wanted to kiss him again. But he knew the big male wouldn't let him. Still . . . he wanted.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Why'd you come here? D'you find out my uncle Charlie is _your_uncle Charlie?"

Etienne stared. "Charles is my uncle?"

Jonathan looked at him sympathetically. "You don't have a clue about anything, do you?"

Etienne looked away. "I came because I discovered that the queen had been lying to me . . ." He shook his head darkly. "All my life. I wanted to the truth. I wanted to see if I had . . . family." He glanced at Jonathan sheepishly as he admitted the last part.

Jonathan was still frowning sympathetically. "I dunno," he said playfully. "You might be disappointed. I mean, what if we're just a bunch of assholes?" He gave Etienne a lopsided smile and was glad when it was returned. "If I'm any indication, you should probably just run for it."

"Then I guess I'm just bloody doomed," Etienne said wearily and pushed a paw back through his mane.

"Geez. Are you always so tight?" Jonathan complained, watching the prince's powerful shoulders. He crawled up on the bed and knelt behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up. Relax . . ." Jonathan whispered and rubbed the prince's shoulders in deep strokes.

Etienne started to protest, but it felt so good that he closed his eyes instead. He felt his shoulders melting under the soothing touch of Jonathan's paws and realized that he was tense. Very tense. Since everything he had learned in the archives, he'd been wound up like a spring. He moaned and let his head fall back. And because his eyes were still closed, he didn't realize Jonathan was staring at his lips.

Etienne's eyes sprang open when Jonathan slowly kissed him. He twisted away. "What - why are you --?"

"Because I want to!" Jonathan said breathlessly, and without warning, slammed the prince to the sheets.

Etienne struggled to get away, moaning in protest as his cousin's hard fingers curled in his mane. He sputtered when Jonathan's hungry paw clapped on the bulge in his trousers. Jonathan cupped Etienne's head and kissed him passionately, tongue and all. Etienne hesitated, but slowly, his paws smoothed over Jonathan's backside and squeezed.

"Mmm . . ."

Their tongues twisted. And god. Jonathan was a great kisser.

"What in the name of our lord!" yelled a voice.

Jonathan tore his lips away and looked up. "Uncle Charlie!" he cried. "I - I can explain!"

Etienne lay under Jonathan, thinking it would help if he got off him. He turned his head and saw the apparent Uncle Charlie standing in the door, wrapped in a housecoat and a scowl. Etienne's nostrils flared, and for some reason . . . he recognized the male's scent.