{×4 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝}
Book 1 of the Run series.
Get ready for a thrilling world as we probe the life of Asher, a young prince who is undergoing a series of rigorous princely lessons to prepare for his future as King, and Tristan, the son of the most...
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"Why?" Asher said.
"Why what?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!"
Tristan went back to his serious look. "What did you achieve last week?"
"Worrying! That's what," Asher frowned.
"Worried, because?"
Asher pulled him to his eye level and whispered. "I spent my week worrying about whether you were okay. No letter, no warning, nothing! How do you expect me to focus?" His eyes held emotions of anger, fear, sadness and disappointment.
Tristan froze. Wait, how did he get out of the palace?
The grip on his shirt softened as Asher's hand trembled. "I-If you hate me, say it to my face now," a lump formed in his throat as he waited for an answer. I went to this extent, just for you. Tell me you hate me, it's the only way I'll give up.
Tristan darted from his stare. I messed up, I should tell him...
Tristan's heart pounded in his ribcage, he hesitated for sometime then gazed into Asher's green orbs. "It's the opposite, I love you."
Asher stared wide-eyed, his heart fluttered, he pulled Tristan and pressed a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you too."
Asher barely finished before Tristan grabbed his waist and kissed harder. Asher cupped his face, panting, as he tried to keep up.
Tristan groped his ass, Asher inhaled sharply, as they bumped into the wooden frame and fell onto the bed.
Tristan lowered his head, placing tiny kisses on Asher's neck and shoulders, his fair skin glowed in shiny red marks. Asher moaned as Tristan's hands gradually trailed from his arms down to his thighs. He's so flawless, and soft.
Triatan slowly lifted Asher's shirt with his teeth, still maintaining eye contact.
Asher slipped underneath Tristan's cloth, caressing his sturdy structure before he tossed the shirt. Asher gazed at Tristan's biceps— twice his size with tattoos running from his shoulders to his wrist. It was always covered by sleeves.
Asher paused, touching the most prominent scar on Triatan's body— a cut across his chest, it resembled a sword slash.
"Oh," Tristan darted to it. "That one happened years ago."
"Woah... cool." His scars are just as sexy as those ripped abs and tattoos.
Tristan bent down with a smirk, playing and sucking on his nipples while Asher wiggled breathlessly.
Tristan kissed the lines of Asher's abs, down to his belly button, Tristan raised his head, studying his reaction. "Is this your first time?"
"With a guy, yes," Asher said, almost in a whisper.
