“This seems far from necessary,” Laurent mumbles as Ancel dabs his finger over Laurent’s lips, smearing gloss.
Ancel’s eyes stay on Laurent’s lips. “If you plan to charm your way into the Akielon prince’s guestrooms, you must look the part of someone he’d want there.” Ancel stays focused on his task for a second longer, then adds a deliberately belated, “my Prince.”
Laurent lets it slide only for the fact that Ancel is sparing his time and jewels to help Laurent with his mission. He will also be earning a pretty penny for his efforts.
When it comes time to add jewels to his body, Laurent dislikes the looks the pet gives him.
“I see you already have many of these places pierced,” Ancel teases as he hands Laurent a blue gem to put though his navel. “And here I thought we’d need elaborate clip-ons or sticky glue to hold them in place.”
Laurent doesn’t want to know what else sticky glue might be used for or why Ancel has any. “I’m surprised you even kept any other color jewel. All you ever seem to wear is emerald.”
Ancel sees no point in comment, which is wise on his part; Laurent is still his Prince. He just hands over a single drooping earring and walks away, coming back with pet paint.
Laurent detests pet paint, even on the pets, but he swallows the complaints and closes his eyes to let Ancel paint gold and blue swirls and dots over his arms and chest and neck and face.
Laurent nearly jumps out of his skin when cold fingers touch his nipples.
Ancel is glaring down at them, pinching them between his stained fingers, then gives a little tug. Laurent’s cock stirs in interest and Laurent viciously kills the feeling. His nipples are far too sensitive if Ancel can draw his interest from such a plain touch.
“Are these pierced? I have rings for them. Or we can just clamp them. The Akielons will be arriving tonight in time for festivities; clamps on a pet would surprise no one.”
Laurent takes Ancel by his wrists and removes his hands from his chest. “Yes, they’re pierced. Rings will be fine.”
A dismissal if there ever was one. Ancel gives the smirk of a predator who just learned his prey’s weakness, but scampers off after the rings without further prompting.
Laurent dares a glance at himself in the mirror while Ancel isn’t looking, and is startled by what he finds there. Laurent no longer looks like a prince, he barely even looks like himself.
Laurent usually keeps himself tightly laced and expression icy. Now, he looks seductive. Silks billowing around his legs, arms decorated with bracelets and paints, torso in a similar situation. His face has a golden paint to compliment his cheekbones and a gloss to give his full lips shine, blue lines his eyes, a near match to his actual color.
They haven’t started on his hair yet, but that is sure to be just as elegant and sexy as everything else about him.
Laurent had been so lost looking at himself, he hadn’t noticed Ancel come up until the pet was already behind him, pressed to his back and meeting Laurent’s eyes through the mirror from over his shoulder. “The barbarian won’t know what hit him, my Prince.”