The Prince's Groom (Pirates of Flaundia #2) Read online

  The Prince’s Groom (Pirates of Flaundia #2)

  By

  KT Grant

  The Princess’s Groom Copyright 2018 by KT Grant

  Cover art Copyright 2018 by Insatiable Fantasy Designs

  The reproduction or utilization of this book in any form by mechanical or other means is forbidden by law. Copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and may result in fines of up to $250,000 or imprisonment.

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Mr. Martin, the former first mate of an infamous pirate captain is mourning the loss of his young lover. He and Thomas de Fleurre, an exiled prince turned gentleman landowner, had a passionate affair on a tropical island paradise for a very short time. Thomas decides to end their relationship since Martin is a wanted man on the run for a twenty-year-old crime he didn’t commit.

  Thomas longs for the frank speaking Martin, who not only ravaged his body, but his heart and soul. He has moved on, finding happiness in the arms of another man, but can’t stop thinking about those hot steamy nights where Martin made his every fantasy a reality.

  Martin’s past comes back to haunt him as he arrives on Thomas’s doorstep to finish what they started. But then Martin must put his life on the line to save Thomas from an unstable woman who is obsessed with claiming Thomas as her own.

  With a dangerous highwayman also terrorizing the land who has close ties to Martin, Thomas becomes a target in a deadly game of cat and mouse. It’s up to Martin to save Thomas and hope they can sail away on their tide of passion, where he will end up being the Prince’s groom.

  “The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in.”

  -W.H. Auden

  Acknowledgements:

  Thank you to those who are continuing this incredible journey with me where I put the pen to paper and try my best to create good art.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The day had been perfect for a wedding.

  Thomas de Fleurre, former exiled prince of the Isle of Ilgeria and longtime resident of the country of Flaundia, stood in the dark, finishing off his glass of champagne and watching the small number of guests dancing under his bedroom window. As the clock struck midnight, his friends and neighbors who’d attended the ceremony continued to enjoy themselves with enough food and liquor to keep them sated into the wee hours of the morning.

  The celebration right after the ceremony had been a success as well. The strange thing about this event was the bride was not marrying a man, but a woman. Two women had committed themselves to one another—to have and to hold, until death do they part—on the beach during a beautiful sunset. He had wiped a tear away from his eye when his sister Daisy had embraced and kissed Chelsey, her lover, and now her partner to honor and cherish all the remaining days of her life.

  Below him, the newlyweds kissed passionately under the shadow of a coconut tree. He observed unabashed as Chelsey caressed his younger sister’s breast through her beaded lace bodice. Hugging Chelsey close, Daisy whispered something in her ear and then took her hand. They kissed again and ran inside the house.

  Two women loving one another, much as a man and woman did, was considered an abnormality in Flaundia, the country where he and his sister had grown up. Daisy had been through many hardships after being separated from Chelsey for eight long years. She’d been kidnapped and held for ransom by the woman who’d been operating as a vicious lady pirate who’d terrorized the ocean waters near his homeland. But now, on this small piece of island property Chelsey owned, the newly retired pirate queen would be able to love openly and live in peace with Daisy.

  If only the same could be said for him. He sighed, placing his empty glass on the window sill and staring up at the night sky where he spotted a bright shining star. What he wouldn’t give to live with his lover on an island far away from all his responsibilities, no longer worrying about the harsh opinions at home. But there was no use in wishing or praying for answers. He was needed elsewhere, and not even Martin could talk him into staying.

  “Ah, Martin….” He viewed the revelry, but his lover of one month was nowhere to be seen. Time was short, and all he wanted to do was spend the late night and early morning hours in Martin’s arms, their naked bodies flush as they kissed and touched. With Martin, engaged in the delights of the flesh, he could ignore his uncertain future.

  The man on his mind entered the room and shut the door. He stood in the semi-darkness as Thomas soaked him in. Every time he saw Martin, his heartbeat pounded at a ferocious rate, and his groin grew heavy. He had not felt this deep passion for another man until Mr. Martin, Chelsey Dread’s former first mate, had waltzed into his life and seduced him.

  “There you are, lad. I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere.” The older man strolled toward him with a bright grin on his face.

  He looks at me as if he loves me. He clasped his hands behind his back to stop from reaching out and taking Martin in his arms. He was so wrong. Martin didn’t love him. Desired and lusted for him, yes. But loved him? No.

  He remained silent as Martin cupped his cheeks and tipped his head back. He swallowed, overcome with the need to get down on his knees and worship the man’s cock. He had never experienced anything like it. He would never forget him as long as he lived.

  “What are you thinking of, Your Highness?” Martin licked his lips.

  He clenched his fists, wanting desperately to run his fingers through the dark goatee, spread his palms on his bald head, and press kisses on the elder man’s face. He frowned. He didn’t even know how old Martin truly was, let alone his first name.

  “Please don’t call me ‘lad.’ And certainly not ‘Your Highness’. I’m very much a man and no longer a prince, and haven’t been for many years. I would have no idea how to run a country even if given the chance.” He added the last as an afterthought.

  Martin released his neck and slid his hands down the younger man’s body until he seized his ass and cupped both cheeks. Thomas moaned in response. His eyes flicked shut, and he inhaled deeply, smelling the dark yeasty ale Martin had drunk earlier in the night. He barely stopped himself from placing his lips on the bushy jaw and sucking there.

  “You’re in a bit of the bite, now, aren’t you?”

  He snorted. Martin’s way with words always made him smile; it was one of the things he adored about him.

  “Mr. Martin, I wish I could place your dialect. It’s a strange one indeed. Where did you say you resided again?”

  “Nowhere important.”

  He opened his eyes and held back from fixing the front of his breeches. His prick had risen, and it was most likely noticeable to a roving eye. But since he was alone with Martin, his erection wasn’t a cause for concern. He disregarded his want, however, and allowed ire to grow in its place.

  “I find it odd that although we have been intimate in every sense of the word, you still won’t give me a straight answer about your past or who your people are. Why is that? He eased out of Martin’s embrace and leaned against the headboard of the four-poster bed.

  Martin wiped the crown of his head, muscular biceps flexing under his sleeveless tan shirt. His lover never wore a jacket, and his shirt was always missing the sleeves.

  “I’m not one to share too many details about myself. The less you know, the better.”

  He unbuttoned his own dark-blue coat, allowing his body to cool in the humid air. “For whom, Martin? Or is that even your real name? Why won’t you tell me your first—”

  “We’ve been through this already. Why harp on the issue again? There are mo
re important things to do than gab about our secrets.”

  He lifted his hands and then dropped them to his sides. “See, that’s the difference between you and me. I have no secrets. I’m an open book. You, though, are a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

  “Oh, you’re an open book? Heh. That’s one lie you have been tellin’ yourself right along, Thom.”

  What in God’s earth is he talking about? “I must have misunderstood just now. When have I ever lied?”

  Martin grabbed his arms. He tried to pull away, but it was no use. The man held him immobile.

  “You’ve been lying most of your life about this.” Martin swooped in for a deep kiss.

  He landed his palms on Martin’s chest and dug his fingers in the damp material of his shirt. Martin sweated a great deal more than he did, not that he minded in the least. He loved to lick the man’s brawny chest and flat stomach, addicted to his musky scent.

  All thoughts of arguing were soon forgotten as he curved his arms around Martin and drew him in close. His tongue slipped in Martin’s mouth and swiped the inside of his cheeks. Martin chuckled deeply and licked the roof of his mouth. He bit Martin’s bottom lip in response.

  Martin released him but only backed up a bare inch away from his face. “I’ve taught you well.” He shoved his hand between Thomas’s legs and fondled him through his pants.

  A shudder ran through him, and his cock grew harder. Martin’s expression told him the next few hours would be full of fucking and mindless pleasure.

  “Lie on the bed with your legs spread,” he ordered in a guttural tone Thomas dared not refuse.

  He slowly lay on his back with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. There had been a handful of times when Martin had been rough with him. The majority of their couplings had been tender and slow. Martin had taken care with him because he’d presumed Thomas had never had intimate relations with a man before. The first time Martin inserted his cock in his ass had been unbelievably scary and intense. Sweat and tears of both pain and bliss had covered his face as Martin buggered him deeply, whispering affectionate and soft words to help him relax. Afterward, he had held him close, promising to be on the end of Thomas’s prick next time. He hoped Martin fucked him that way again this night, for in less than twenty-four hours he would be gone.

  Martin stood above him panting hard as he tore off his shirt, and then his boots, and finally his drawers and breeches. He gasped as the cock rose up among his large hanging balls. When Martin stroked his massive organ, a bead of pre-release covered the dark mushroom head and dripped on Thomas’s leg.

  The man stroked himself all the way to his root, hand encasing his cock and balls with expertise. Thomas wanted to touch him, to have him find his climax under him, and to make him come undone as Martin had done to him many times.

  He balanced on his elbows when Martin came close, hovering over him, giving him a scorching kiss that made him moan and kick up his leg. Martin unfastened Thomas’s breeches and tugged them down, took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. The entire time, he kept his mouth on Martin’s.

  “Stay still.” Martin knelt and yanked him forward until his ass was almost off the bed. He grabbed the coverlet as Martin roughly pulled his boots and pants off, leaving him naked as well. He longed to lift his head to view Martin between his thighs, but, obedient to his lover, he gazed up at the shadows on the ceiling instead.

  The instant hot breath landed on the inside of his thigh, and his mouth brushed his sac, he arched his back and closed his eyes.

  “Dear God!” he yelped when Martin swallowed more than half his cock and sucked down. He rocked as Martin held his legs in an iron grip that would surely leave bruises. Not that he cared; he wanted to be marked by this man.

  “I….” He couldn’t find the words as Martin squeezed his balls and bobbed his head up and down, until he was certain he felt the back of his throat. He whimpered and fisted the cover as Martin released his dick and rubbed his nose on his balls, licking them in smooth strokes. The roughness of his tongue made him cry out and shake. Purple spots danced in front of his eyelids as the other man’s smooth head grazed his pubic hair. When he tugged on a few of the coarse strands, he stiffened, raised one of his legs, and dropped it on Martin’s shoulder.

  “Like that, do you, lad?” Martin asked in a gruff whisper.

  “I’m not a laadddd!” he shouted as a calloused finger grazed his anal passage. He opened his mouth in a wordless scream as Martin inserted his meaty middle finger in his asshole and pumped in and out.

  “Take it, Thom…take it all,” he ordered.

  He stiffened as Martin’s mouth engulfed his cock in mind-numbing warmth. He twisted on his side, but those calloused fingers followed. Suddenly, the friction was gone from his cock even though that singular sensation continued within his ass and anus. And when the pressure increased just a bit more, a deep shudder overtook his body.

  “Ugh.” A long stream of cum jetted out, and he humped the bed as Martin kept his fingers inside his ass. When the older man removed both of his digits, he rolled onto his stomach, gasping for air.

  “We’re not done yet.” Martin flipped him over and climbed on top of him, and when his cock met Thomas’s limp one, he sighed.

  “I need….” He gulped in much-needed air and then they kissed.

  “I know my…my Thom.” Martin cupped his cheeks and breathed deeply in his damp hair. “How I wish it was daylight. Then I could see these blond curls of yours.”

  He wrapped his legs around Martin’s hips and surged up, their cocks touching.

  “And what about my freckles? Last time you wrote an ode to them.”

  Aghast, Martin shook his head. “What do you think I am? Poetry is for women and fops.”

  “Shh, I was just being humorous. I do enjoy making you uncomfortable sometimes.”

  Martin pinched his nipple. “And why would you do that to me? It’s a rather harsh thing to do to your lover.”

  But for how much longer? He looked away to stop from asking about any past lovers. He would remain playful instead. “We wouldn’t want you, former first mate of one of the deadliest pirates to have ever lived, to be teased by a younger, dashing, former prince, now would we?” He rolled over to lie on top of his lover.

  Martin could likely overpower him at any time, and yet he held back.

  “I’ve never had a prince…erm, former prince, have his way with me before. What do ya say, lad? Up for a little bed sport until we expire from exhaustion?”

  He stared at Martin and sent him a big smile, but his heart was breaking. Their time together was running out, and an anxious glance thrown his way was all the proof he needed that Martin knew this as well.

  He lowered his face until it was in line with Martin’s stomach, rubbed his mouth on the tanned skin there, and scooped his hands around Martin’s thighs, bringing his stiff cock up to his chest. “I would say, sir, there will be no rest for us tonight. I plan to have my wicked way with you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  Without waiting for a response, he lowered his face and filled his mouth with the man’s abundant cock.

  Harsh cries burst through the air, but he didn’t care if those outside heard them late into the night. He would make certain as the sun rose, Martin would never forget him. Perhaps he would finally trust him enough to either give him a piece of his past, or admit his feelings.

  That would be all he needed because when he left he would be alone, returning to a life where he would have to become a respected member of society once again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The smell of the sea and sand carried on the early morning breeze billowing the curtains. After he and Thomas had finished their swiving, Martin had opened the window to let the tropical breeze in to cool their overheated flesh.

  Thomas mumbled something in his sleep. Martin tightened his arms, holding his lover close. He pulled Thomas’s leg up and snuggled his semi-erect cock in between his legs,
spooning him. His palm lay over his lover’s heart, where he could feel its steady beat. Soon they both would rise, but for now there was no need for them to be anywhere.

  He rubbed his thumb on Thomas’s nipple, enjoying the feel of his smooth chest. He had only a light dusting of hair on his legs and a barely existent trail leading to his navel and the scant bush that surrounded the cock he enjoyed tasting every chance he could get.

  He lay back and grimaced as he inspected his own furry chest that sprouted more gray hairs than black ones. At least those on his legs was still dark…without any silver to denote his age. He had made it to the ripe old age of forty with all of his limbs still intact and a full set of teeth.

  “Damn me.” He let out a loud yawn, on less than three hours of sleep, thanks to his lusty lover, who, after more than enough bed play between them, dozed quietly.

  With a chuckle, he cracked his jaw as Thomas turned over and dropped his arm around his hips, bringing his cock to life. Never before had another made him so damned aroused.

  Linking his fleshy fingers with Thomas’s slimmer ones, he kissed his brow. Thomas’s eyes flicked open and he smiled.

  I could get lost in his eyes, he thought, overcome by the absorbing blue shade.

  “What’s the matter?” Thomas scratched under his arm.

  He blinked and growled. “Nothing. Give me your mouth.” He grabbed Thomas’s chin.

  He kissed him hard enough to taste blood, and Thomas gasped, pulling away, wiped his mouth, and glanced at the blood on his thumb. “We’re a bit randy this morning, aren’t we?” He winked and stretched his arms above his head.

  “I’ll always be randy for you.” He grasped Thomas’s cock and stroked it until it hardened to his liking.

  “Oh lord.” Thomas closed his eyes in pleasure. He clutched the wooden headboard behind him and thrust up into his hand.