Henry was undoing Alex in precise and perfectly orchestrated acts, each touch of that mouth snapping another frayed string, leaving Alex unraveling into a mess. It would have been a problem if he didn't like it so much, want it so much.

A trembling sound more whimper than moan, he leaned more heavily against the shower wall, forearms braced against the wet stone, hips rocking mindlessly into that hand. He panted softly, glancing back over his shoulder at the prince.

"God, Henry..."