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Summary
Demas never expected to receive Prince Saben's proposition.
It came in the form of a silk handkerchief, sopping with slick. The moment Demas opened the tightly-sealed silver box, he could smell it, the sweetness and deep musk making his cock stir in his trousers, his mouth fill with saliva behind his gritted teeth.
If Saben were of Demas' people, Demas would have happily killed a dozen Alphas for the right to claim him.
But the thought of being just one in a long line of partners was ... demeaning.
