He was busy.  He didn’t<i>want</i>to imagine being at court, or battle, and receiving some ludicrous request.  Knowing Ryland as he did, it would be something petty, but something that would undoubtedly drag him away from important duties to see to.  It was so silly a thought that he couldn’t imagine he’d give a damn about that debt in the face of everything else he had to deal with.<br/><br/>“If you wait too long, I might forget,” he teased.  “Or I might die at war, or from assassination.  Old age,” he added, which was laughable in its own right, thanks to both his bloodline and the fact that the first two causes for his death were far more likely.<br/><br/>But Ryland was moving sweetly beneath him, touching him, and daring him.<br/><br/>“I think you don’t have sense enough to be afraid of me,” he returned with another stinging nip to Ryland’s lips.  “But I’m confident in my ability to leave an impression.”<br/><br/>Braced on his forearm, Kethaias took a fistful of that lovely hair and tugged, forcing the prince’s head back so he could draw teeth along the lines of a golden throat.  He let go of Ryland’s cock and forced the hand around his own to the side.  It was a hot and rewarding sensation to press their bodies together in a more comfortable way and grind, working them both into a more desperate need, complete with labored breath and soft pants shared in the confines of the tent.  And once frustration began to mount again, Keth reached down to curl his fingers around them both.<br/><br/>“I was wrong,” he huffed out.  “You look even more regal like this.”  Grinning, he claimed Ryland’s mouth with his in a hard kiss.