Diamond in the Rough

Summary: Continuing from last chapter, passion ignites between them. And Remy feels more regret than ever before.

Author’s Note: This is it. Contains male slash (no, really?), lemony content and very little plot value. The characters and my muses are running away from me. Don’t expect much by way of discretion.

Don’t call me Highness.

Remy’s words proved the last coherent thought that he had before Logan leaned up and kissed him, taking him by surprise this time.

He went up in flames.

Logan’s fingers were fisted in his tunic and he nearly dragged him into the tub. Remy wouldn’t have minded one bit. The still-warm water was seeping through the rich fabric, dampening his neck and chest, and Logan’s breath was rushed out through his nose, steaming Remy’s lips. They seemed to share the oxygen between them as they greedily took from each other.

Logan’s warm, bare skin felt like paradise to Remy, still slick and damp. His hands roamed over him, mapping out the generous slopes and curves of muscle and tangling in the soft hair that Jean-Paul had enjoyed so much.

Logan broke the kiss just long enough to utter “Yer wearin’ too many damned clothes.”

“Might make it easier if ya got outta de tub.”

“Ain’t finished with my bath yet,” Logan informed him curtly, but there was lust in his eyes, and Remy couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. He leaned in to kiss him again, but Logan jerked back, holding Remy at bay with his palm pressed against his chest. Even that contact was too addictive, far too dangerous with the way he felt now.

“Ya sent away my valets,” Logan reminded him. “So I guess it’s up t’you ta make sure I get good and clean.”

“What’d ya have in mind, chere?” Remy husked.

“Don’t keep on anything ya don’t wanna get wet, Remy.” His hands slipped within the folds of Remy’s shirt again, prying apart buttons and undoing ties. Logan grew impatient with Remy’s wide belt and flung it away once he succeeded in unfastening the buckle. “Damn,” he whispered. “Look at you.”

Remy’s sculpted, lean chest was exposed to Logan’s gaze, and he shivered when his fingertips traced the divide between his pectorals, light as a feather.

“I want ya t’look at me,” Remy invited. “And more den dat.”

He shrugged out of the shirt, balled it up and flung it in the general direction of a high-backed chair. Then Remy picked up the discarded bar of soap. It became the instrument of pleasure and sweet torture in his hands as Logan leaned back in the tub, waiting.

“Dey missed a spot.” He dipped the bar into the water and slowly, painstakingly ran it over Logan’s chest, figure-eighting it over his pecs and over the mounds of his broad shoulders. Logan groaned at how good it felt, different than Jean-Paul or Pietro’s furtive touch because this was uninhibited and completely welcome. Remy caressed him, running his palms through the soapy film and letting them slick over the tendons of his neck and the deep well of his prominent collarbones.

Logan reached for him, but Remy caught his wrist. He turned his lips into his open palm, then darted out the tip of his tongue to taste him. Logan’s manhood jerked beneath the warm water, stiffening even further, if that was possible. He wanted to commit so much sin with Remy’s mouth.

“Jus’ lie back,” Remy murmured. “Lemme do dis, chere.” Logan obediently rested his hands along the brim of the tub.

He clenched it, hissing in a breath when Remy ran the stub of soap over his nipples. The sensations that light touch evoked pushed a low curse from Logan’s lips. Remy followed the soap’s filmy path with his fingertips, teasing and circling each nub. Logan’s eyes shuttered in pleasure. He was making him tingle, and Remy grew hard at the sight of him arching into his touch. Heat surged into his belly, radiating down to his cock with every low moan from the older prince.

He traced the ripples of Logan’s abdomen with soap and his fingers, barely grazing the rim of his navel. Logan’s hips jerked up in response.

“Remy,” he pleaded. Remy’s hand slid down his taut belly below the surface of the water, which had grown slightly murky from the soap, but it didn’t obscure the object of Remy’s fascination. Logan’s manhood lacked the ruddy tan of the rest of his body, the creamy flesh slightly rosy from arousal and the heat of the tub.

“Do ya like dis, chere?”

“Oui,” Logan said through grated teeth. Remy chuckled at Logan’s attempt at French.

“Den yer gonna really like dis,” he promised as he massaged the coarse thatch of hair at the apex of Logan’s thighs, running his fingers through it and enjoying the texture. Logan bucked beneath his hand; Remy suppressed a groan at how right he felt and the hint of dampness he felt between his own legs. He was leaking precum and he was restless to remove the rest of his clothes, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t release Logan yet. He wanted more of those needy sounds and his honest response to his ministrations.

Logan huffed in protest as Remy moved his hand away from his crotch.

His scowl was replaced by a sharp intake of breath as Remy teased the pit of Logan’s knee, tickling it with the soap. More erotic sensations followed in the wake of his touch. Remy rumbled his appreciation at the feel of Logan’s supple flesh and muscle as he stroked his thigh, leaning in to kiss him once more. Logan’s groan was restless, but he returned his passion equally. He stroked Remy’s hair, fascinated with its smooth texture and weight. Every time Remy retreated slightly, Logan chased his lips, nipping at them and sucking the plumper lower one into his mouth. Remy sighed in satisfaction, and he gave himself up to the languorous heat seeping into his body.

Remy stroked his vulnerable inner thigh with the soap at first, then set it aside when his hand was just as slippery.

“I might’ve missed a spot, chere,” he murmured against the crest of Logan’s cheek, tracing its contour with his kiss.

“I’m not clean yet,” Logan said, “and yer not finished.”

“Non. Yer right, chere.”

Logan’s eyes squeezed shut at the feel of Remy’s fingers closing around his manhood, savoring the feel of him in his loose fist.

Logan lost patience. He gripped Remy’s shoulders and practically pulled him into the tub. He needed to get closer, to take more of what he had to give. Remy chuckled at Logan’s enthusiasm, hearing the low growl over his hesitation at his cock.

He didn’t make him wait long. “Feel so good, chere.” He ringed him in his fist and slowly pumped him, enjoying his solid, velvety feel beneath the cooling water.

“Heaven help me,” Logan whispered. It felt so perfect.

Remy got wet. It was inevitable, and not unwelcome. It was time for Logan to stroke and touch him, exploring wherever he could reach from his vantage point of being seated in the tub. His broad, wet palms sliding over him, kneading him, set Remy on fire.

They lingered like that a few moments longer, drinking each other in, until Logan drew back. Remy looked confused. Logan smirked, but he was reluctant to remove Remy’s hand.

Things became clear when Logan stood up, water sluicing down his body back into the tub. Remy’s eyes devoured him.

“Sight for sore eyes, chere.”

“Ain’t exactly statuesque,” Logan pointed out. He bent down and handed Remy a water pitcher. “Get my back?”

Remy took the pitcher from him and slowly poured it down the slopes of his body, rinsing away the fragrant foam. It felt decadent, feeling the runnels of water trickling over him as Remy watched with appreciative eyes.

“I want you,” Remy husked. “Wan’ ya so badly, chere.” Remy swallowed, not an easy task since his mouth had gone dry at the sight of Logan rising naked from the tub. He was fully erect, bobbing and rosy, and his cock twitched when Remy stroked the tip.

Logan stepped out of the tub, heedless of how much he was dripping on the floor.

“If you want me, then here I am.” He closed in on him, hands closing around Remy’s narrow hips. He leaned in and breathed over his collarbones, steaming them before he tasted him. Remy leaned back, giving him better access to his throat. He shivered at the feel of Logan’s tongue lapping at his flesh, savoring him. He caressed Logan’s broad back, rapt with the sensations the older prince caused. Rational thought left him, no longer a welcome guest while Logan was loving him so capably and thoroughly.

Between kisses, Remy helped Logan divest him of his trousers and drawers, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them and kicked himself free. They grew soaked in a stray puddle of bath water on the floor, but Remy didn’t care. They drifted toward the bed. Remy automatically dropped back as the mattress bumped the back of his knees.

“Wanted t’do dis for a long time.” All he had to do was lean in and dip his face to taste the plump head of Logan’s cock, which was already bobbing and seeking the heat of his mouth. Logan gasped and shuddered at the feel of Remy’s sultry wetness swallowing him up. Remy spread his knees apart to allow Logan to stand between him. He gripped Logan’s thighs to lend him support and slowly drew him in and out of his mouth. He was satisfied when Logan’s fingers crept into his hair, then tangled in it to hold him close.

And it was good. Oh, so good. Logan tasted slightly salty and felt so supple and hot sliding into his mouth. Remy gently cupped his sac, stroking the globes with his thumb and feeling them draw up with tension and arousal. His fingertip teased Logan’s perineum, caressing the tender, vulnerable flesh. Logan was coming undone, and Remy tasted more of his precum as it leaked from the tip. He lapped it up, swiveling his tongue around the head and making Logan cry out.

Logan’s hips thrust him further into his heat. His body gave up all its secrets when Remy moaned around him, sending vibrations humming through his flesh. Remy’s hot breath misted over Logan’s belly, stirring the coarse hairs at his groin as he made love to him with his mouth.

As wonderful as it felt to let Remy consume him, Logan wanted more. He needed to feel Remy pressed against him as he had been those few nights when he woke up in his arms, snuggled protectively, even possessively, against his back.

“Rem…please,” Logan said, stroking his cheek to make him pause. “Lie back.”

“You sure, chere?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need to lay with you.” It gratified Logan to see understanding shining in Remy’s eyes and in his gentle smile. He nodded, moving back and making room for Logan to join him on the bed.

They embraced, and it felt so natural it was as though they’d always been lovers. Limbs tangled together and hands caressed as they slid against one another, surrendering to the building tension and desire between them.

Logan’s breath hissed out between his teeth as Remy rolled him to his back. He lightly bit his pulse, then swirled his tongue over the wound.

“T’ink I forgot somet’in’,” Remy admitted.

“What?”

“Jean-Paul always remembers de cream,” Remy mentioned. He leaned over and grabbed a small pot of thick, white cream that smelled slightly of rose petals. Remy uncapped it and dug out a dollop of it, warming it in his hands.

Logan laid back in ecstasy as he ran his hands over him, smoothing the lotion over the hills and planes of his body, lingering over sensitive zones and molding his muscles. He was slow and thorough, continuing to relax and arouse him in tandem.

Logan’s eyes snapped open when Remy’s fist closed slickly around his thickness, coating him in cream.

“Remy!”

“Hope ya want dis, chere,” he said, brushing a kiss over the crest of Logan’s knee. His legs were sprawled and splayed open, revealing his treasure to Remy’s hungry gaze.

He handed the pot to Logan, who delved his fingers deeply into the cream, scooping some out. Remy straddled Logan, easing himself up until they were face to face. Remy nuzzled him, teasing him with light kisses while Logan gripped Remy’s narrow hip. Logan slipped his hand between his thighs and reached up, finding the sensitive little crease. He probed it with slippery, creamy fingers, and the pucker seemed to suck his fingertip inside. Remy hissed in a sharp breath of pleasure, eyes glazing over as Logan pressed himself more deeply inside him. Remy squeezed around him, accustoming himself to the dilation and pressure as Logan primed him. It had been so long, and Remy was undone; a low moan escaped him before he could bite it back.

“No,” Logan insisted. “Don’t try t’be quiet.” He thrust his hand in a slow, steady rhythm. “I wanna hear how this makes ya feel.” Remy’s breathing sounded choked and uneven. “I wanna see it in yer face, how good it feels whenever I do it right, Rem.” Remy’s hips bucked and thrust down onto Logan’s hand, and he carefully slid a second finger inside. They flexed inside him, feeling delightfully thick. Logan twisted and scissored them, readying him for a mating that would undo them both. The road to ruin was never so tempting. He watched Remy’s face strain in a mixture of agony and pleasure above him, and he felt himself straining as well, cock uncomfortably rigid and begging for release. Sweat glistened on their skin, and Logan couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please,” he rasped.

“Now, chere,” Remy answered, already gripping him and rubbing the plump head enticingly against his entrance.

“Oh, God!” Logan cried out as Remy gently pressed Logan inside, then impaled himself fully. The breath rushed out of Remy’s lungs at the sweet pain and fullness. Reflexively, Logan’s hands locked on his hips, holding him there for a moment while he drank in the sensation of Remy wrapped tightly around him, fitting like a glove. He was shuddering with the effort to keep his control. He wanted to rut inside him, pound himself more deeply into that heat, but he didn’t want to treat him roughly during their encounter.

“Yer tremblin’, chere,” Remy whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“I want you…so damned much…I don’t…want…”

“Show me what ya want, den.” Remy squeezed him in his sweet grip.

“Oh, God,” Logan gasped. “Yes. More. Please.”

Remy’s thumbs feathered over Logan’s sensitive nipples, and he raised his hips, lowering himself against Logan’s base in one fluid ripple of motion.

“Like dat?”

“Please…Remy…”

“Tell me,” he urged, and a hint of desperation colored his voice. He offered him another smooth thrust and took his hand, pulling it toward his own weeping cock. “Touch me, chere.” He groaned in pleasure as Logan obeyed, wrapping his hand around his stiffness and giving him a careful squeeze. Then he pumped him, finding a rhythm that made Remy’s back arch.

“Move,” was the only word Logan could manage.

So Remy moved.

His body was a beautiful sight, arching and rippling over Logan like a wave. With his hands splayed against Logan’s chest for balance, Remy rode him, reveling in the counter-thrusts of Logan’s hips beneath him. He listened to Logan’s voice praying, cursing him, and in the delirium of it all thought he heard the older prince call him beautiful, of all things. He lowered himself on him, over and over, quickening when he felt the signals from Logan’s body or heard the changes in his breathing.

Any flaw in Logan’s physical appearance vanished when he was aroused, with his back arched and his skin suffused with vivid color. Remy’s favorite sound was his name cried from those lips. Logan’s blunt fingernails dug into Remy’s hips, raking his thighs; the sensations made Remy’s manhood jerk and twitch. Logan pumped him in earnest, and Remy praised Logan’s name, cried out how good he felt, how he couldn’t last much longer…

“Yes!” he hissed. “Please, chere!”

“I know yer ready, darlin’, come fer me,” Logan choked. “Come fer me…c’mon, Remy, yer ready, I can feel that yer ready, and yer squeezing me so tight, you feel so perfect, so hot and smooth…”

Logan’s words, coupled with the exquisite, frequent impact against his prostate as Logan shunted into him, again and again, flung him over the edge. His cock jerked in Logan’s hand, stiffening and pouring forth thick rivers of seed. His body spasmed as he climaxed, and his eyes were filled with wonder as they met Logan’s. They pleaded with him Don’t let me go.

It was the most beautiful thing Logan had ever seen.

As the last tremors of his orgasm ebbed, Remy fell forward, barely supporting himself. His arms felt like noodles, and he felt Logan’s labored breathing steaming his temple.

“Logan…oh, God, Logan…” he whispered.

Logan hadn’t completed his bliss, a fact that announced itself when Remy felt Logan’s manhood pulse and twitch inside him, still turgid and straining for more. Logan’s face was almost apologetic as Remy looked up at him.

“If yer tired-“

“Non,” he murmured against his lips. Logan sighed into his kiss, arms wrapping tightly around him, and Remy’s hips once again began to move. They pistoned sharply, harder, faster as he bowed his face into Logan’s neck.

“Remy!” Logan’s fingernails were scoring his back, all the way down his buttocks. He gripped Remy’s hips, pulling him down into each thrust, complete done with control. And how could he, when Remy was milking him, squeezing him, stroking his thickness with so much luscious, slick heat, that he couldn’t…hold on…

His climax barreled its way out of him, rippling and tingling over every nerve. Every muscle tensed and released and his hips jerked of their own accord, shuddering and rutting into Remy until his spasms gradually ceased.

He trembled beneath him, still holding onto him desperately, as though Logan was afraid he’d leave. From the way Remy gently disengaged himself, letting Logan’s spent manhood slip free, only to roll to his side and gather him into his arms, clearly he felt the same.

Logan was content to hold him and watch the firelight flicker over his skin, painting it golden in the near darkness of the chamber.

“Don’t hate me for my selfishness. I really don’t want to let you leave.”

“Chere-“

“I know that you have to,” he said, cutting him off. Without looking down into Remy’s face, he knew he was scowling.

“Etienne…he needs t’go back to our home. He misses Maman and Papa, and he’s already lost so much.”

“I know.”

Remy held onto him more tightly. Logan felt the faint press of his lips against his collarbone. He idly stroked Remy’s rich hair, hating that one day, he’d never have that privilege again.

Remy spoke the words that he knew spelled the end of what they had, before it had even begun.

“They’ve found me a bride.”

The silence was telling. The only response Logan gave was a deep exhaling of breath, not even a sigh. It was as though he couldn’t speak even that much. Remy’s arm tightened around his waist and he burrowed more deeply into Logan’s warmth, loathe to leave it.

So they merely stroked each other, limbs remaining tangled together as they watched the flames dance in the grate.

After several long minutes, Remy spoke again.

“Etienne deserves a chance t’meet dis bride and t’decide if she could be his maman.”

“I know. He does. I would never take that away from him. He has lost too much already, and I won’t be selfish.”

Some niggling voice inside of Remy screamed Why not? He suppressed the pain at realizing that he wanted Logan to make a demand of him in some way, to argue with him somehow, raise his voice to him, anything…

…but he just continued to hold him, lulling Remy into a stupor with his caresses, holding him so closely and with so much tenderness that they shared the same heartbeat.

As he drifted off to sleep, he didn’t hear Logan’s heart break or feel the pall that fell over him as he faced facts.

Logan was in love with Remy. Deeply. And he was leaving.