Did he doubt Ryland’s ability?  No, not really.  After all, he had to have something other than his looks to have so many clamoring after him, otherwise the word would’ve spread and interest would’ve waned.  The only thing that might’ve annoyed Kethaias at that moment was how much he’d worked for it while the prince had seen fit to give himself out so freely for everyone else.  Did that make him special in some way?  He didn’t think so.  Though now that the games were coming to a close, he couldn’t summon any more disappointment.<br/><br/>To taste or to be tasted?  That was an interesting question, and the immediate response that Keth wanted to give was<i>both</i>.  Sending a lover to writhe with pleasure, to call out his name, playing their body with only his mouth and a few touches here and there, that was a fantastic way to spend his time.  It could work him back up in no time for an encore, too.  In this situation, however, he had already been waiting long enough.  Even though he’d found some release to that constant need earlier that day, it ultimately did nothing but whet his appetite.<br/><br/>There was little he could do as his pants were unfastened.  Ryland had to already know his answer.<br/><br/>He relinquished his hold on the silk to snatch the man’s wrist in an iron grip and slammed his closed fist to the mattress.  Harmless fun.  The kiss that followed was hard, demanding.  He needed that outlet, but also he wanted Ryland to make good on that promise of reddened, pouty lips against his cock.<br/><br/>“You’re going to taste me,” he stated, a whispered growl that would’ve sounded threatening to anyone but Ryland.  He took hold of the already destroyed shirt with his other hand and tugged, ripping it even more.  “And then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move.”  He grinned, nipping at Ryland’s jaw.  “And then I’m going to fuck you some more.  I’m going to ruin you, little fox.”