Volume four of our fairy tale bundle is Like a Prince, a collection of gay male erotic fairy tales. Our excerpt is from “The Goose Boy” by Monique Poirier:
…There was a man standing in the corner, watching him. Watching him very intently.
He was dressed in the clothes of a merchant, and he wore a long cloak with a hood. Giles could see his eyes flashing from within the shadows of it, warmly brown and uncomfortably direct. When they met his own, the hooded man grinned with a flash of white teeth. Giles looked into his cup studiously.
He approached. Giles held his ground; the warning had been brief and maddeningly cryptic, but he wasn’t the sort of man who ran away. The hooded man sat down on the bench beside him, very close. Close enough that Giles could feel the heat of him.
“I’m told that you can’t speak,” the man said. His voice was smooth and clear; a young man’s voice – one that demanded attention. Giles shook his head slightly without looking up.
“Can’t, or won’t?”
At that Giles did look up, scowling slightly, sighing through his nose. The man who stared back at him was… arresting. The face of an angel gazed at him from the shadows of that hood, framed in dark curls. He’d never seen an angel, painted or otherwise, with so much hunger in its eyes.Giles shuddered, because the intense scrutiny he suddenly faced stirred something low in his belly that was probably best left undisturbed…
“My name is Thom. Walk with me,” he said, standing and then offering a hand. His tone was light, but Giles recognized an order when he heard one. Thom had a voice that demanded obedience.
So Giles took his hand and walked with him, out of the common room and down a hallway that he was unfamiliar with. He hadn’t had occasion to explore the lower parts of the castle; his work didn’t take him there. Thom was sure of his path and clearly had some idea of his destination.
“I haven’t seen you here before. You’re new, aren’t you?” Thom asked casually as they turned a corner. Giles realized that he was quite lost now, and they were well past the sounds of other people… he nodded warily.
“I’m sorry that I don’t know your name…but I will confess that I’ve been watching you for a few days. Forgive my rudeness. It’s been most difficult to track you down in the evenings. There are those who say you’re a conjurer of some kind. Are they right?”
Giles tried to reply and was reminded harshly that he could not. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“You haven’t always been without a voice.” Not a question. Giles shook his head again.
Thom pushed back his hood. The light here was dim, with moonlight coming in through a single window high on the wall, painting him in smooth planes of black and silver. Dark hair, flashing teeth. Dark eyes with something burning behind them.
“You’re very interesting, goose-boy,” he breathed, taking a step closer. It was narrow hallway. If Giles stepped back, he would be against the wall. He stood his ground. Thom apparently took that as challenge, because he took another step and suddenly his face was only inches from Giles’ own. His eyes held Giles captive as effectively as any iron chains. The way he looked at him… and truly saw. Not at his body, not at his face, not even at his eyes but into them. Oh, trickery, sorcery, wicked magic… he was looking at Giles and seeing the whole of him, everything that made him. And those eyes, seeing into his own, were hungry. In a final lunge, Thom closed the gap between them and pulled Giles into a burning kiss.
Giles felt his knees give way. That was of no consequence, because Thom deftly caught him and together they shuffled backward until the inexorable strength of cold stone was at Giles’ back, a sharp counterpoint to Thom’s heat. His mouth tasted like wine and burned like fire. When they broke for breath Giles found himself gasping, tilting his head back to grant Thom easy access to his neck. Lips and tongue and teeth descended there, marking a burning path downward to the hollow of his throat. One of Thom’s hands was tucked at the small of his back, but the other moved in a broad stroke across Giles’ chest and belly and then downward to caress him in a wholly indecent way. His breath left him in what would have been a moan if he’d had a voice.
Thom pulled his other hand free, both of them alighting on Giles hips, and their eyes met again.
“May I?” he breathed.
Giles nodded frantically.
Thom dropped to his knees and proceeded, with the kind of deftness that could only come from long practice, to unlace Giles’ breeches and free him to the cool of the night air. He moved without preamble to devour Giles whole.
By all the gods he knew, it had never been so good.
One broad and callused hand gripped the base of his length firmly, the other wandered as it pleased along his stomach, his thighs, between them to stroke and cup and gently squeeze… and all the while that mouth worked its hot, wet, utterly wicked magic. Thom was thorough enough to be deeply satisfying, teasing enough to make it worthwhile, and he commanded every breath and stroke and purring vibration with expert sureness. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation or uncertainty in him.
Giles was a prince. No one had ever so thoroughly commanded him before… no one had dared. But he was only a goose boy here. Whoever Thom was, he certainly appreciated that fact and behaved accordingly. Treated him like some base-born plaything…
Thom took Giles to the hilt in one long agonizingly slow bob of his head, and he swallowed, and Giles was done for. His head arced back as he came, cracking against the wall with enough force to have him seeing stars, and were it not for the strength of Thom’s hands on his hips he might have crumpled to the floor. As it was he was lost for several long moments, riding the waves of his climax as Thom drank from him and moaned in earnest, pulling back to lay his face against Giles’ thigh, his panting breath hot and cold at once as it gusted across slick, sensitive flesh. Giles found himself sinking to his knees under Thom’s guidance, then sitting on his heels, then being fiercely kissed again.
“Meet me tomorrow, at sunset, at the gatehouse. I’ll make it worth your time,” Thom whispered into his ear… and then he was standing, pulling away. Footsteps ringing with quickness in the empty corridor.
And then he was gone, leaving Giles alone in the darkness, his head still swimming.
Giles knew an order when he heard one.
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