"It's good that you've already accepted that," Alex agreed. Yeah, there was no way that he wound not wind up draped all over Henry in their sleep. He was drawn like some irresistible magnetic force was pulling him towards the prince, even when he was conscious and able to reason with that compulsion.

He let his hand run up over Henry's chest, then down once more, fingers teasing in a feather light, likely ticklish way, over that taut stomach, down to hook into the waistband of his pants. "Speaking of being sprawled on top of you..."

It was a subtle segue, no? A masterclass in the understated. Or the exact opposite.