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The night proved to be restless. For twenty-one years, becoming king of Cockensure had been David’s birthright. So why was he suddenly so nervous?
It wasn’t the responsibility of ruling. His father had been nothing if not a benevolent king, and David looked forward to following in his footsteps.
He shut his eyes and tried to relax. Perhaps one of the fables his mother had read him as a boy would soothe his anxious mind.
Climbing out of bed, he pulled down a leather-bound book from a shelf. Tales of Gallantry. This had been one of his favorites.
He opened the book gently to a gold-embossed illumination on the inside cover. A knight in shining armor. The Queen had hoped the tales would inspire honor and chivalry in her son. And while that they’d certainly done, they also, unbeknownst to her, had inspired something else.
Enchantment.
David brushed his fingers over the handsome illustration of the knight. Although he hadn’t always understood his fascination with the brave and daring heroes of his mother’s tales, as he matured, David gradually became aware of what his fascination meant.
He didn’t dare share his secret, though. A gay prince—what would people say? After all, it was royal duty to continue the bloodline. How was that supposed to happen if he didn’t fulfill his role and marry a princess?
He’d simply have to grin and bear it. That was the only choice.
A weary sigh escaped him. Sure, being a prince had its perks, but it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. David longed for the freedom to feel what he wanted, be who he wanted…
Love who he wanted.
But it could never be. No one could ever know the secret he hid deep down. It would be a royal scandal to end all scandals.
Still, he had one last night before he signed his life away. And he intended to make the most of it.
He reached inside his pajama pants. Tomorrow, his manhood would have a job, it would have a duty. It would be subject to the desires of his newly chosen queen.
Tonight, however, his cock was still his. All his.
He pulled his member out of his shorts. It was still soft, but even so, it barely fit in his hand.
His mind conjured images of the manly heroes from the stories he now knew by heart. Strong, brave, noble, vibrant. Before he knew it, David’s cock had swelled.
He’d never penetrated anyone before—male or female. Perhaps he would learn to like the sensation of a woman. After all, men had enjoyed the pleasures of the fairer sex for centuries—surely, he too could rise to the occasion, so to speak.
He felt himself go soft. Instantly, guilt overcame him. It wasn’t as if he could help it, though. Some of his closest confidants were female. But that didn’t mean he wanted to know them like that. It just wasn’t him.
Frustrated, he gave up his efforts to relieve himself. Hopefully, things would be better in the morning.
Somehow, though, he doubted it.
Bjorn Wilde 