Not wanting to be a hypocrite after criticizing Leylen for her lack of manners, Seyn executed a perfect bow and said politely, “Your Highness.”
Ksar gave a clipped nod, his silver eyes fixed on Seyn with a strange expression.
Leylen said with a smile, “Your Highness, we were talking about the—”
“May I have a word with you?” Ksar said, still looking at Seyn. He didn’t spare Leylen a glance, and it filled Seyn with vicious satisfaction.
Weirded out by his own emotions, Seyn hesitated. He should probably refuse. Talking to Ksar in private would only make the rumors and speculations worse.
He should refuse.
He should.
But—
But he didn’t want to. The prospect of being alone with Ksar made his heart beat faster, a strange, almost sickening excitement coursing through his veins.
Seyn found himself nodding before he could stop himself. Idiot. He was an idiot.
The whispers around them became louder as he followed Ksar out onto the nearest balcony.
There were two minor lords on it, but one look from Ksar made them leave. The door shut after the two men, cutting off the noise of the ballroom.
Biting his lip, Seyn braced himself and turned around, determined to act aloof.
But his carefully schooled expression was completely wasted.
Ksar wasn’t looking at him. His jaw was locked as he stared at the gardens below. If Ksar weren’t the one who had asked for a word, Seyn would think Ksar didn’t want to be there.
“Well?” Seyn said. “I don’t have all night.”
“Do you do it on purpose?”
Seyn frowned, genuinely bewildered. “Do what?”
Ksar didn’t look at him. “Don’t play coy. You always have to be the center of attention. You can’t live without making everyone look at you.”
Seyn bristled. “Screw you—no one forces you to look at me. Fucking look elsewhere.”
Ksar gave a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Seyn said, glowering at Ksar’s profile.
Ksar didn’t answer.
Instead, he said tersely, “Cease provoking Leylen and making scenes.”
Seyn saw red. “Me? She’s the one who started it!”
“I don’t care who started it,” Ksar said. “You should be smarter than that. Your reputation is in tatters as it is.”
Seyn blinked. Why did Ksar care?
“Yes, thanks to your precious fiancée,” he said cuttingly, trying to hide his confusion.
Ksar’s lips thinned. “She will stop spreading the rumors. I’ve already had a word with her.”
Seyn snorted. “Clearly it wasn’t as effective as you think. She was trying to humiliate me tonight.”
“You’re hardly an innocent lamb,” Ksar said, still looking at the gardens below. “You can take care of yourself. She’s just a spoiled girl with overinflated ambitions.”
“Charming. I see your opinion of her is as low as your opinion of me.”
“She’s very different from you.”
Seyn cocked his head to the side, studying Ksar. There was something irritated about the way Ksar said it.
“How so?” Seyn said, bracing himself for an insult.
“She doesn’t disagree with my every word, for one thing.”
Seyn smiled involuntarily at that. “Your ego doesn’t need inflating.”
Ksar let out a laugh. “You’ve certainly never inflated it.”
Seyn eyed him uncertainly. He was perplexed that Ksar was seemingly content to waste his precious time on him when there was no reason to. Why had he even wanted to talk to Seyn? Just to tell him to stop making a scene? He could have spoken to his current fiancée to a better effect. She certainly wouldn’t have argued with him. It was puzzling.
“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Seyn said, asking about the other thing that had been confusing and bothering him. He’d never handled well not having Ksar’s full attention. “Don’t you know it’s impolite not to look at people when you’re talking to them? Stop being a dick.”
Ksar finally turned and glared at him.
Seyn wet his lips, holding Ksar’s searing gaze.
He didn’t know who moved first.
The next moment, their lips collided, and Seyn couldn’t stop an embarrassingly loud whimper. Moaning, he opened his mouth eagerly for Ksar’s tongue, hands burying in Ksar’s hair and trying to pull him closer. Heavens, he wanted to consume him, swallow him whole, suck his dick—anything, just to get Ksar deeper inside him. He was shaking with want so badly that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He sucked on Ksar’s tongue, clinging to his hard, muscular body, so familiar and so right, and breathing in Ksar’s scent like an oxygen-deprived man would breathe the air.
As if sharing his need to be closer, Ksar pulled him tighter against his body, kissing him deeper and harder until it was no longer possible. Seyn whined in frustration, grabbing Ksar’s face, stroking his lean cheeks with just a hint of stubble, wanting to—wanting to—
Ksar tore his lips away, breathing hard, his eyes like molten silver, bright against the dark fringe of his lashes, intent, hungry, heavy lidded with primal need. “Damn you,” he said with resentment before kissing Seyn again.
Moaning, Seyn kissed back. He was so hard it hurt. Try as he might, he couldn’t kiss Ksar as deep as he wanted, and the frustration was building, driving him crazy. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to come. He wanted to—wanted to—