by Alanna Lynd
Casphar groaned and turned his head to press a kiss to Lelyon's ear when Deron began to move, slow thrusts that forced a moan from the Prince's lips every time he could feel them both fully inside himself. "I feel him, little forest bird... You cannot imagine how good it feels to feel him rub against me inside yourself! And you are so tight around us... tighter than when I took your innocence a year ago."
He chuckled at Lelyon' whimper, then gasped himself when Deron's thrusts picked up in force, taking Lelyon so hard now that the Prince's cries and moans drowned out their own sounds of pleasure as the painful stretching became an ecstasy of its own. When both Lords finally found release inside him he shuddered violently as well—spilling not a drop of his seed himself, for the cruel golden rings still denied him climax, and yet what he found there at the pinnacle was something deeper, more profound even, at the unbearable intensity of feeling those two Lords he loved most in the world deep inside his body at the same time.
When at last with sated groans they slipped out of his sore body, he sighed in tired pleasure at the kisses and caresses they bestowed on him. He was still drowning in pleasure and emotions so intense he could not name them, and though his erection truly hurt now from having been neglected for so long, he made not a single sound of complaint as his husband turned him so he could rest in his arms. Contentedly he breathed in the long-missed alpha scent that was unique to his husband only—and then an undignified sound of pained surprise was forced from his lips when skilled hands deftly slid the huge phallus into his well-used body once more.
"Deron!" he complained in dismayed betrayal, turning his head to glare at his tutor, both Lords laughing at his protest.
"You did not think I was finished with you already, my bird, did you?" Casphar asked in amusement.
"I thought that looking like this," his fingers brushed Lelyon painfully constrained erection, "you would be only too willing to wait for me to recuperate. It will not take long, I promise you that... A year and a day, Lelyon. You have no idea how dearly missed you were."
"Then... you are no longer angry at me?" Lelyon asked, his voice soft and insecure for the first time.
"Angry? I was never angry with you, my beautiful consort." Casphar's smile was warm and full of love, and when he kissed him, Lelyon readily relaxed against him once more. "I was angry with myself, for causing you hurt—I need not have tested you in such a way. I did not punish you, Lelyon, I punished myself. Do you have any idea how very much I missed you during the last year?"
Lelyon gave him a brilliant smile, reassured now at last that he truly held his husband's love, burying deeper into his embrace until the movement jarred the phallus and made him groan with pained lust.
"But why that... that horrible orc cock again?" he complained a little petulantly, arranging himself just so against his husband's body, so that his swollen length brushed deliciously against Casphar's slowly reawakening one.
The two Lords looked at each other over his head, then broke into laughter. "Ah, Lelyon," Casphar gasped in mirth, "you named it? I will have to ensure that one of our artisans will make you a similar one then..."
Lelyon groaned and buried his head against his husband's chest to hide from their knowing chuckles, feeling stretched and sore and used and so unimaginably happy to be at Casphar's side once more that even his teasing was something he knew he did not want to miss anymore.
3
Lelyon fled, his breath coming in loud gasps at the exertion, yet still he knew that he would not be able to escape playful wolf—no, the terrible beast, he correct himself with a grin, then redoubled his efforts. It had gained so much on him that he could hear its coarse grunts, could almost feel the foul breath on his neck, and when he felt a large hand grab his shoulder he cried out in panic, wrenching himself free only to be thrown to the ground a moment later. The thin shirt of embroidered cambric was torn from his chest, a knife slicing through the belt and the lacing that kept his breeches closed, and with one last surge of strength he managed to throw the orc off, vaulting onto the lowest branch of a near-by tree.
Yet there his luck left him—there were no other trees close enough to try and flee over their branches, so in despair he climbed higher, hoping that when the branches got thinner they would not carry the monster's weight anymore. His breeches slid down his legs, though, making his attempts clumsy, and before he had reached the safety of the highest branches, a hand closed around his leg and pulled him down. He cried out once more in helpless despair when he was savagely pushed against the tree's trunk, hands scrambling at the rough bark for purchase, but there was nothing he could do faced with the overbearing strength of the orc. A hard, blunt protrusion nudged against his thigh, slick with some vile secretion, and then without further warning he was entered, speared by one hard thrust that pierced him to the core and forced a cry of pained pleasure from him. There was nothing to ease the beast's rutting, and each agonising thrust caused whimpers his throat. Teeth chafed over his skin, then bit down hard—alpha, his mind chanted with joy despite the game they were playing—and when the beast began to lick his blood from his skin, growling with savage lust, for a moment he felt as if he would faint.
Yet then, at another hard thrust, a hideous pleasure bloomed within him, and he moaned with wretched shame when he hardened. "Like that, little elf?" the orc growled, moving faster now, and Lelyon gasped in helpless pleasure, giving in to what was being done to him even though it felt as if the creature's revolting cock was rubbing him raw inside. Each thrust forced tears of pain from his eyes, and yet, in a vile, dirty way, it was so good to be used like this...
He climaxed with a cry of pleasure that sounded strangely lost, clenching around the shaft that filled him with heat at the same time, gasping for breath while possessive arms slid around him to hold him close.
"You gave me quite a chase, my bird," Casphar murmured, breathless himself after their play. "Who knew that a Prince of the Elmwood would have such interesting fantasies?"
"It was your idea!" Lelyon protested, blushing a little for it was obvious that he had indeed enjoyed it quite a lot.
"Ah, but you are the one who nicknamed his favourite phallus orc cock," Casphar smugly pointed out. "I think that reveals rather a lot."
"I hate that thing!" Lelyon sighed, though their game had left him too tired to argue now.
"Truly? Deron gave it to me as a present as you liked it so much—it is trussed up with my other things in one of the boxes. Make certain to thank him for his thoughtful present before he rides back to Mountaintop, little bird!" Casphar's smile was wicked as he watched his consort squirm and blush, trying to deny that he had indeed enjoyed what they had done that day a week ago.
"Ah, I find I quite enjoyed that new game, beloved," he then sighed, contentedly nuzzling Lelyon' dishevelled hair. "Although we will have to make certain that we are far from crowded areas when we want to repeat that at home. It just will not do to have the guards overhear you calling me ugly orc, or vile monster."
They laughed at the thought, then Lelyon turned in his husband's arms to face him, kissing him languorously until at last the sound of hoof-beats and jingling harness disturbed them. Below their tree, Deron had come to a halt, watching them with fond amusement.
"Ah, woodelves... Of course you would prefer a tree even for that."
"How would you well-bred sun elves do it then?" Lelyon asked, lightly jumping back down only to scowl when he picked up his ruined garments. "Oh, did you have to destroy them so completely, husband? Shall I ride back naked to ask my valet for new clothes?"
Casphar chuckled and jumped down from the branch himself after he had laced up his breeches again. Their horses were patiently waiting where they had left them in the distance, and after a whistle, obediently trotted towards them.
"They can't be far behind us; we have tarried here for a good while," Casphar pointed out. "Stay with Deron, little bird—maybe he will consent to teach you how the sun elves do such things while on a journ
ey? I will ride back and get you a set of new clothes meanwhile."
"I knew there had to be a reason for my father insisting on sending three seamstresses with me—he must have known that you would be set on destroying every single garment I own," Lelyon muttered, then shrugged at his nudity and mounted his horse, steering it alongside the dappled silver charger Deron was sitting while his Lord turned his horse and cantered towards where their retinue had to soon appear.
"My Lord wants me to thank you for the... thoughtful present you have made him," Lelyon murmured at last, fighting down a blush when Deron chuckled.
"I am going to spend quite a few nights imagining him using it on you," Deron admitted, then gave Lelyon a quick grin. "If that performance just now was anything to go by, you will enjoy it, too..."
Lelyon groaned, though a part of him thrilled at the thought that Deron had watched them in the tree. "What would you have done in his place, then? How would you sun elves do it?" he asked seductively, hoping to bring the conversation to a less embarrassing topic.
Deron looked him up and down, then smiled slowly, bringing his horse to a halt. "Come here and I'll show you," he said, moving back a little so that there was space for Lelyon in front of him. Suggestively, he untied his breeches, smiling again when Lelyon bit his lip at finding him hard, moving uncomfortably in the saddle of his own horse.
"Do not tell me that you are less adventurous than a sun elf?" Deron teased, and that decided it for Lelyon. He dropped his horse's reins and gracefully joined Deron, facing him with his own legs splayed over the sun elf's thighs. Deron leaned back, his hands on the horse's hindquarters to hold himself up, and with a still somewhat doubtful look, Lelyon raised himself, slowly impaling himself on his erstwhile tutor's thick length while he tried to stabilise himself with one hand on Deron's shoulder and the other wrapped in the horse's mane.
"I am... still not quite certain about this," he gasped, feeling strangely vulnerable in this position. What would they do if the horse spooked? What if he lost his balance? But then Deron pushed his hips up and he gasped again, this time from pleasure. He wanted to touch himself but did not dare to move one of his hands lest he fell, and so their lovemaking was slow and somewhat awkward with Deron the only one who dared to move.
"Please... this is torment!" Lelyon groaned at last, clenching around the hot shaft inside him that teased him with shallow thrusts. Deron chuckled at his plight but did not stop, finding his pleasure after what seemed to Lelyon like a torturous eternity. The prince groaned in dismay, still hard himself and certain that he would not repeat this experience as it seemed to have given Deron an unfair advantage—but then the Lord slowly sat up again and carefully pulled Lelyon into his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to his brow even while he wrapped a hand around the Prince's neglected length.
"I thought it was quite lovely," he whispered into Lelyon' ear and smiled when he sighed at the sensation. Lelyon wrapped his arms around him to hold on while Deron's hand slowly stroked up and down his length, having come to know the Prince's desires and needs better than he himself during the year he had tutored him. "I will miss you, Lelyon," he breathed and took the tip of his ear into his mouth to gently suck on it, the Prince melting against him at the erotic sensation even while he found release at last, coating Deron's hand with wet heat. Still dazed and trembling with pleasure, Lelyon moaned his name with such love and longing that Deron pulled the youth's face to his with both hands for a passionate kiss, not caring that he smeared his seed all over his hair and cheeks.
"Don't leave," Lelyon begged at last, sounding young and forlorn despite the many ways in which he had grown during his time in Mountaintop. "I will miss you so... Can you not come with us? Just for a short while? We will be a real pack, the three of us. My lord would like that."
Deron pressed another kiss to his mouth, tender this time, soothing. "You are his consort, Lelyon, and though you might miss me, I promise it will not be for long. Another life waits for you in the Goldwood, one I know you will very much enjoy. You will find friends and confidantes there, and many things to keep you busy."
"But you will not be there," Lelyon said softly and Deron smiled, grasping the Prince's chin to gently raise his eyes.
"Not now, that is true. A year and a day, Lelyon... I will come to visit you and Casphar in the Goldwood in a year's time. You can show me what you have learned during my absence—and we can decide whether you need more lessons then."
Deron laughed at the way Lelyon flushed, and then the Prince silenced him in the only way he knew—the best way; with another kiss, as loving and as passionate as what had grown between them during their year as tutor and student: a great friendship, utter trust, and a love that was unlike what he felt for Casphar, his husband, his alpha, yet just as true and right. It did not matter that he had not been born an alpha like his brothers. Let them laugh and call him a weak omega, or mock him when he shifted into a bird. This was what he had been made for. To love his alpha—and more.
To love his alpha and everyone his alpha cared for. To do what his alpha could not and be what they both needed. Woodelves, shifters, noble lords. Strong and powerful—but brittle and lost without an omega to connect him. He knew that in his alpha's eyes, he was a prince, and worth more than any of his brothers. And that was all that mattered.
***
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A special sneak preview of Disciplining His Elf Lord by Alanna Lynd:
Luiyor pushed golden curls out of his eyes, breathing heavily. There was not even a drop of blood on his armor, he noted with pride, though it dripped from his blade to stain the trampled grass.
Three orcs, and not a cut on him. His companion, stern, silver-haired Veregorn with his icy eyes of gray, would be proud. He would have to be! Any orc they killed meant one less danger for the unsuspecting farmers in these lands, after all!
A warm glow of pride filled him when he entered the small clearing where they had made their camp, though it faltered a little when Veregorn scrutinized him. Veregorn had said just to scout—but then, the death of an orc was always reason to rejoice. Even Veregorn could certainly not find fault with him for single-handedly ending the life of three of the vile creatures?
“The way is clear,” he said, and then allowed himself a little smile. He had done good work. Even his father would have been proud of a fight such as he had waged against the creatures. Luiyor had been lethal and swift, like a true elven warrior of the Emerald Wood. “I surprised orcs setting up a camp. They do not pose a problem anymore. There were no traces of others.”
Veregorn looked at him for another moment, then got up from where he had been seated by the fire. Luiyor faltered a little when there was none of the praise he had expected—of course, nothing ever truly impressed millenia-old Veregorn, but was it too much to ask for at least half a smile or a simple nod in acknowledgment of his deed?
Veregorn stepped closer. “Where? How far away?”
“Not too far. I followed the river to the next bend. They were setting up a camp in the old ruins.” He gestured towards the east, where the gleam of gray stone could be seen atop a hill rising from the forest.
“I surprised them before they could finish. None escaped. No one will know we are here, I made certain of that.”
Luiyor allowed himself a small smile now, for he had watched and waited long enough to make certain that no scout was missing. Veregorn might be right about traveling in secret, but that did not meant that he would have to allow such evil to continue. No one would be the wiser, but maybe the farmers in this area would be a little safer, thanks to the strength of his sword-arm.
“You surprised them? None escaped?” Luiyor faltered a little. Veregorn's voice was soft and tense with suppressed emotion. Was he maybe upset that Luiyor had not brought him notice before, to allow him a part in the fight?
Veregorn's hand shot out to twist in Luiyor's hair, holding him in place as he helplessly met Veregorn's eyes. There was a cold fury in them that made him swallow, his body tensing with something that was not quite fear.
"Veregorn," he began softly, trying to stay calm. Veregorn was a man of reason, certainly this uncharacteristic display of anger was just a momentary lapse. "There is no need to be angry. Maybe I made a mistake, but I promise, I knew what I was doing!"
Veregorn simply looked at him, his fingers tightening until Luiyor winced. "No need to be angry? I am not angry. You have not earned anger yet. Pray that it will never come that far."
Luiyor tried to smile. "Then would you please release me? I will gladly apologize, I am aware that I probably should have waited—"
Veregorn's lips twisted into something that might have been a smile. "Aware, you say. That only makes it worse. I told you what I expect from you when I allowed you to go out to scout our way."
Luiyor swallowed. Tears welled up unbidden when Veregorn's grip on his hair suddenly tightened. "Allowed? I am sorry, Veregorn, but there is no reason to treat me like—like some green recruit! I am—"