“Come. Come. Come with me!” Bennonton demanded as his oily fist flew up and down Zan’Dar’s cock. Moaning a fractured cry of pleasure, he plunged closer to the edge.
It was more than Zan’Dar could take. His cry of pleasure mingled with the roaring snarls of his lover. Shuddering, untamed, they came unhinged together. As heat shot deep inside him, his cock lurched in the fist stroking him. Cum sprayed between their stomachs and chests as he joined him in climax. Splintered into pieces, he was afraid he would fly apart and never be made whole again. The cock filled him and the fat knot that pushed into him swelled wide, linking them together in a deliciously painful pleasure. The union tied them together. Bennonton continued to move, rocking deeper and deeper without stopping.
Locked together.
Linked.
Knotted.
“Mine. Mine! Oh Mine!” Bennonton’s voice sang through him, pushing and pumping to tease the depths of him.
The brilliance of fire swelled along the bounding point in the absolute darkness of the chamber. It lit up his mind with a corona of blinding colors around the core of brilliant gold. This was no longer a silvery grey web, it was a cord of molten steel. Reaching for it, he found it alive with the love of the other man. Not yet quite full formed, it was still liquid and malleable. It was the unshielded connection to Bennonton. He offered this joyous union and waited for Zan’Dar to accept it and him. They were made for each other. Not only because of the mystical link, but the way their bodies fit perfectly together.
He reached for the contact, throwing himself into it and curling around that sensation. He sent all of his love back to Bennonton, cherishing the precious connection that he dared consider ripping away. The black pits where the delicate links were fractured were swiftly filled with the blazing gold and the mental sensation echoed the physical. Pleasure and pain twisted into erotic perfection.
He never wanted this to end. Zan’Dar loved this. Loved feeling himself stretched wide and stuffed so full.
His lover stroked him carefully. Shifting his other leg up, Bennonton coaxed him and spread him wider to ease that sweet, painful stretch. “Easy, my love. Oh gods, you are so amazing.” His voice shook with emotion. Slowly his strong hands smoothed over him, their hearts hammering in time with each other.
“No. Oh gods! Please. M-more!”
“More? Mmmm! Are you sure? Bennonton asked, nuzzling against his neck and jaw, nibbling and kissing towards his ear. “You will walk with a limp tomorrow if I’m not careful.”
“I don’t c-care. I need more. I need you!”
“Ah, I need you, Zan’Dar!” He began to move again, with him and then in contrast. This time built slower, the frenzy and need for release softened and their movements limited by the knot that tied them. This time Bennonton teased him, stilling just when Zan’Dar began to clutch and grab at him. The slapping of their sweaty, cum-slick bodies and the grunts and groans filled the chamber. They chased their pleasure higher, coming together again with roaring victory and choked moans.
“I love you. Aah, I love you!” Bennonton’s emotion filled voice snarled against his neck. He shuddered in the peak of his climax, cock swelling as cum pulsed hot into Zan’Dar. Each throb was an echo of Zan’Dar’s release, the sensation so sharp the climax was almost too much to bear. A rush of cum smeared between their stomach and chest as they pressed tight together.
“I love you, Bennonton. Oh, I have loved you for so long.” Zan’Dar cried softly, feeling shattered in a way he knew he would never recover from.
Gentle kisses peppered his cheeks and his scarred eye and down to his lips. “I have you, bright-eyes. I have you. Forever!” The general very carefully rolled over, pulling Zan’Dar into the circle of his arms and into his strong chest. His hand cupped the back of his head and coaxed him down. “I have you. I love you. My beautiful boy. I love you, too.”
They were quiet in the darkness, breaths filling the silence between the soft kisses and nuzzles.
“I’m sorry I was so rough with you,” Bennonton whispered into the dark when he’d soothed the shuddering trembles from Zan’Dar’s body. It took quite a while later for his cock to soften enough for the warrior to slip free. He lovingly cuddled Zan’Dar in the fragrant blankets. “I should have had better control than that.”
Zan’Dar smiled against the broad chest and nuzzled his cheek in. “You are perfect. I like your rough loving. I need it.”
There was nothing rough about the tender kiss that his lover placed on his lips. It fanned the flame of hunger to life but neither of them were strong enough to consummate that lust.
* * * *
Light spilled into the room when Zan’Dar woke in the curve of his love’s arms. He cuddled back towards the broad chest with a pleased sigh. The scent of sex and roses teased him with memories from the previous night and stirred lust swiftly back into his loins.
“Mmm.” Bennonton agreed and pulled him in closer, nuzzling himself against the curve of his ass, his cock once more as proud and hard as though they had not been up all night enjoying each other.
Zan’Dar felt the man’s smile curving wide where his cheek rested on his shoulder. It was bright enough out that it was surely past morning. Sunlight illuminated the room enough so that he could see how finely it was decorated. Two years ago, he’d awakened here after healing the Marshall and had sensed the first draw towards the powerful man who now held him so gently. He thought the tapestries were different. They appeared to be new, the colors vivid rather than the dull, utilitarian chamber he remembered. He glanced over his shoulder and met the golden gaze.
“Do you like it, bright-eyes?” Bennonton asked, kissing his shoulder.
“Of course. It’s lovely, but it could be bare stones and a pile of straw so long as you’re here.” He snuggled back, enjoying the vibration of the growl that ran up his spine. “Why did you have it refurnished?”
“I thought our suites should be updated for our future.” He smiled at what must have been a state of shock Zan’Dar tossed over his shoulder. “Yes, love. I’m will be staying home. It was decided that I must pass the responsibility to my next in command and attend my sire, our king, as second son.”
Zan’Dar twisted around in the curve of his lover’s arms and blinked at him in question. “Are you serious? You will stay after Festival?”
The general smiled rather impishly and slid his hands around to Zan’Dar’s ass and pulled him up against him tightly, rolling over so he was under him while Zan’Dar straddled his hips. “Perhaps.”
“But your mount.”
“And your mounts.”
Zan’Dar savored the adoring caress of Mortari and Amberlynn, pressing in close, satisfaction clear in their thoughts. It was Mortari who spoke though, There is sport enough at court with you as our rider, Zan’Dar. All is well.
“I think they are happy to adjust to domestication.”
“Well, Chirmeng wouldn’t extend his emotions as far as being happy, but I’ve assured him that we will have hunting and escort duty enough that he will not grow weary.” He smiled up at Zan’Dar, hands sliding up his hips, thumbs hooking over his hipbones to squeeze. “Mmmm, I was so worried you would want to continue your search.” His golden eyes gleamed, letting him see the edge of his fear. “You must miss your people.”
Zan’Dar shook his head and leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to the man’s mouth, lingering as he stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “I spent two years searching and hunting demons and creatures that were after gates as well. I came up with nothing but scars. No, it’s better not to let any of the things here crawl through into the gray. My family…they will be fine without me. They will know I’m in a better place.” He tipped his head and kissed down his chin to his neck, nibbling.
“Ah Zan’Dar.” Bennonton’s hands gripped him harder and with it, the upward press of his hips, rolling upward to rub his cock against Zan’Dar’s. His eyes closed slowly as he rumbled out in pleasure.
He was s
o handsome under him. Flushed with desire and his hard body beautifully scarred by the hard life in battle. He knew he’d never grow tired of watching the stern, strong features melt into joy. He enjoyed bringing out his husky, desperate moans of passion.
They made love in the sunlight, loving each other in the light of day with Zan’Dar atop his lover’s proud cock. It was slow and tender, exploring each other and the wonder of their new physical love as well as the all-consuming connection solidifying and strengthening between them.
They came together. Zan’Dar painted his lover’s chest and throat with cum as he rode his magnificent cock. Bennonton shuddered under him, crying out as he arched and bucked with the savage release, filling Zan’Dar with sticky cum. This time it was Zan’Dar who enfolded Bennonton and soothed his lover’s tears. The emotion was too much to contain.
They bathed and played in the baths until hunger and their bemused mounts demanded they untangle from each other.
You really must rest and eat lest you die of the pleasure. Release your lover and let the sunlight shine upon you, Mortari teased.
Bennonton laughed and pulled Zan’Dar back into the water that had grown tepid while they played, and kissed him. “I guess we should at least get food,” he murmured sheepishly. “Gods, I could happily die this way though. Buried balls deep in you, hearing those sweet little cries you make.”
Somehow they managed not to entangle again. Mostly because Zan’Dar was embarrassingly sore. He didn’t want to refuse Bennonton, but even the man’s clever fingers and mouth were unable to coax his weary cock to life another time.
The general offered a feline smile and whispered, “I will just have to improve my skills.” He laughed and brushed his thumb under Zan’Dar’s chin. “Do not frown, my sweet boy. I am not disappointed. I was too demanding. I will see to your feeding and your recovery.”
Cleaned and dressed, they went to Festival together. Hand in hand they met their peers unashamed. The knowing smiles and congratulations of the men and women who saw them together only reinforced their shared joy. Everyone knew very well why Zan’Dar was walking with a limp.
Chapter 18
Festival was a brilliant affair that summer.
All of Talgraem rejoiced in the heart-match of Calvary General, Lord Bennonton, Prince of the southern kingdoms. Highlord of the first gate and wielder of the soul blade with Zan’Dar, Keeper of the Lifebreath, barbarian horse-lord. If anyone had words to say against it, no one dared risk the displeasure of king, court, and mounts to do so. There might not be proper dueling, but the wooden swords left bruises enough to drive home the point. Zan’Dar was not someone to toy with. He’d grown nearly as large as the beloved second son, Lord Bennonton, and had spent the past two years with sword in hand.
One of those early days of Festival, he and Bennonton entered contests of arms, against anyone who accepted the challenge. They had extra judges on hand, to foil the hot-headed young nobles from the rival kingdoms eager to make a statement by drawing blood. By the end of the day, dueling through the lists, the message was clear. Zan’Dar was no longer a boy. He was a man not only worthy of the war hero, but he was fully capable of watching their general’s back.
It didn’t soften Bennonton’s protectiveness, though and they were rarely more than a call away from each other. After being apart for two years, it was a luxury not to be separated for anything. Even though their bond was strengthening it was still new. Since they’d each worked so hard not to enforce it, there was an adjustment.
Mounts arrived every day. Young mares, the fastest and most able appeared first. Among those early arrivals was Shara with her new colt at her side. He was a sooty bronze, knobby legged youngster with huge dark eyes who looked like an echo of his sire Darian. He gawked up at Zan’Dar, tucking close to his dam’s side as though he were afraid he might get swept up and eaten.
“I can only imagine what you’ve told him about me,” Zan’Dar said, rubbing between the mare’s eyes affectionately
I only tell truths. Which didn’t mean she wasn’t stretching it a little. Shara enfolded him, Mortari and Amberlynn in her affection as she presented the colt to him and Bennonton. She’d come to them before even giving proper introduction to his sire. The old warlord will have time enough to gloat about his prowess. I wished to give you my blessing on your heart-union, little pronghorn. Amusement flickered through her affection. Now, I go and find my mate. Daughter. Son. Children.
Over the next few days more mounts arrived to the shore. These were the last of the mothers with foals and the stallions. Zan’Dar was shocked that one of the young stallions came boldly up to him as he was attending the fitting of a new saddle for Amberlynn.
Neither the mare nor Mortari, who was offering the random snide comment, gave the newcomer any notice until a firm nudge of his muzzle sent Zan’Dar sprawling forward. The motion caused the saddle to slip from his grasp, startling the mare who whirled in defense of him.
Before Mortari could intervene, the laughter rippled over him. Sister, you are not doing a good job of..ow! The mirth was cut short as the mare reared and came at the young stallion, biting and snarling like a devil.
No combat at Festival, Mortari roared over all of them. Moving forward, he blocked the path to Zan’Dar and glared at both the mare and the younger stallion.
Rubbing his arm where he’d been roughly pushed, Zan’Dar regarded the mount and frowned. It was Amberlynn’s twin brother. Though he looked properly chastised by his sister, there was the same fire in his gaze that Mortari often wore. “Oh gods.”
I have come for you, Zan’Dar. I am bold and brave, and I have earned my name.
You are too slow, brother. Amberlynn mocked and nipped towards him despite the reminder that they were to hold the peace during Festival.
He simply gave a slow fan of his tail and tried to lean past Mortari to nuzzle at Zan’Dar. The elder stallion was having no part of that, either and pushed the youngster back with a snort.
“I don’t think I can have three. No one has three.”
The bristling hostility faded when Mortari blinked from the youngster to Zan’Dar, his voice softening with familiar warmth. No one is nearly as much trouble as you are, Lifebreather. Perhaps we shouldn’t send him away just yet.
I am named Jasper, Champion of the Great Divide. The stallion said proudly, thrusting out his chest and taking up a familiar pose.
Is that really a title, brother? It seems a little weak, Amyberlynn huffed, still bristling. Look what you’ve done to my saddle.
It’s more than a nag like you deserves anyway, sister-mine. I’d gladly take it to be his mount.
Zan’Dar laughed and rubbed both hands over his face. “The General will kill me,” he said to the trio, turning to pick up the saddle.
“Kill you for what, bright-eyes?” Bennonton asked, swinging down from Chirmeng’s back. He regarded the younger stallion and then slowly turned to look at Zan’Dar, both eyebrows lifting in an amused question.
None of the mounts spoke up as Chirmeng, Death of the Oathbreaker, eyed them curiously.
“This is Amberlynn’s twin brother, Jasper, Champion of the Great Divide. He wishes to run for me along with the others.” Zan’Dar looked skyward and then slid the gaze to Bennonton who looked on the brink of laughter.
Jasper didn’t look at all troubled by this, sizing up the Marshall of the high king’s sapphire stallions. I don’t see why I can’t join you. I’m very clever. And strong. And very fast.
Zan’Dar had to admit he was as worthy a mount as his sister, but three? Three?
“Show off.” Bennonton chuckled and leaned in, kissing him before unexpectedly sweeping him off his feet. After he’d made sure to utterly devastate Zan’Dar with the kiss, he carefully set him down, keeping him held close against him. He nuzzled nose to nose for a moment. “I’m not sure why you think I would be angry. What does Mortari say?” he asked, not looking away. His hands stroked down Zan’Dar’s back, smoothing the fine sil
k against his body. It made concentration nearly impossible.
Mortari says no one has had three mounts because no one is like you, Zan’Dar. That little whelp has earned his name with hardly a mark on him. His sister grudgingly vouches for him. Rarely does one turn down a mount unless they are utterly incompatible, Mortari said with the welcoming enfolding of delight and love.
“I’m not going on any great adventure, Jasper,” Zan’Dar told the stallion.
His golden ears ticked forward in question. So you say, but you are still drawing breath. There will always be an adventure, rider, Jasper said cheerfully and stepped forward when Mortari drew to the side and offered a respectful nuzzle.
“How in all the hells are you going to ride all of them?” Bennonton asked on the brink of laughter. He released Zan’Dar so he could stroke the quivery, excited stallion.
“I’ll take turns. I’m going to need to present him. Wait for me?”
He was already swinging himself up as the general called after him, “Try not to show off too much, bright-eyes. Gods and devils.”
It was impossible to push aside the absolute delight of Jasper as the stallion leapt forward before Zan’Dar was even fully seated. He grabbed handfuls of mane and leaned back to keep from being unseated in the sharpness of his spin. Startled people turned to watch them fly past. Cheers and hoots rose up at their heels. They were running too fast to tell if anyone disapproved.
They were racing down the sand when he noticed another horse was in stride with them, trying to catch up. When he glanced over, he realized the flame-haired hellion was Princess Winnifred, dressed not in her usual formal dress. Instead she wore the garb of the Lyni in the west. She even had her feathers drawn up in the western style, almost braided as it fluttered in the wind.
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