by Kim Dare
Ryland’s Sacrifice
A Thrown to the Lions Story
By Kim Dare
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 992
Edgewater, Florida, 32132
Ryland’s Sacrifice
Copyright © 2010, Kim Dare
Edited by Christine Allen-Riley
Cover art by Les Byerly
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-117-7
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic release: February 2010
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
To everyone who has yet to find someone
who can accept them for who they really are.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
About the Author
Chapter One
He wasn’t completely naked. Ryland Gilford silently repeated the fact over and over inside his head. Even though it was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
By his careful estimations, sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away. Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
The car lurched to a sudden stop. The seat belt tightened across Ryland’s chest as he was flung forward. His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
Dragging a deep lungful of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra—one that didn’t remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
Textbooks cost money? That was more promising. Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he’d agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he’d somehow manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
Textbooks cost money. Tuition fees have to be paid. Rent money has to be found. Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during the next academic year would be nice, too.
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. Ryland still felt sick to his stomach. The car turned a sharp corner. He swayed in his seat before finally managing to right himself. The chauffeur’s driving really wasn’t helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
Still it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows’ drivers…
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Yes, that was what he really needed to remember. Sacrificing his principles this way might make his skin crawl, but it was still better than putting himself into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial math student whose scholarship had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
He’d heard all about the way Jason Burrows called in his debts. The rumors made him out to be very inventive in certain areas. Anything had to be better than that—even this.
The car jerked to a stop once more. Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat as he realized this wasn’t just another set of traffic lights.
From the darkness behind his blindfold, he heard the driver get out of the car. The door next to him was thrown open. Cold air rushed into the claustrophobic little space. Clothes brushed against his bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt. The driver’s breath caressed his neck.
Ryland tried to press himself further back against the seat. The buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the back. A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of his arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car. He stumbled as he tried to get his balance. The chauffeur took no notice.
Gravel crunched under the other man’s shoes and bit into Ryland’s bare feet as he was marched forward. They stopped as suddenly as they started. A yank on Ryland’s arm kept him upright when he’d have stumbled. It damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket too.
A doorbell rang in the distance. The driver let go of his arm. Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact someone had set his shoulder on fire was the only thing he needed to be worried about right then.
Footsteps stomped over the gravel once more, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
“Where are you going?” Ryland silently cursed himself. He really hadn’t intended to sound that way, but the words already hung in the cool evening air. It was too late to wish they’d been braver.
A car started up. Ryland turned toward it. “What the—” He opened and closed his mouth a few times. No other words materialized.
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel. Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked before he launched himself into this stupid mess. If he’d believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he was sure he’d have asked every single one of the right questions.
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he wasn’t that kind of man. If he’d let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade, he wouldn’t have entered into it calm and well informed. He’d have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
And what would he have done then? Borrow the money from Jason Burrows? Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they’d said he’d never get through his degrees without crawling back to them and begging for their help.
A cool breeze danced over Ryland’s skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different. A shiver raced down his spine. The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own. It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn’t put his hands in front of his body, that he couldn’t even see and find a bush to hide behind. Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he was alone in some nameless person’s driveway.
“Please, God, let it be the right house,” he whispered to himself. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Please, don’t let it belong to some nice little old lady who’s going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in the right place.” The words were purred just a few inches from his ear. Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his…his attacker? One of his owners for the rest of the night?
The heat radiating from a warm body confirmed the speaker stood within inches of him. He barely had time to register that fact before a naked body brushed against him. Ryland stumbled away from it. An embarrassing little yelp escaped from the back of his throat as he discovered another, equally naked, man behind him. Surrounded by bare skin, he twisted around, searching blindly for an escape route.
“No playing in the driveway!” someone yelled from the direction of the house. “Inside, all of you—now!”
Strong hands wrapped around each of Ryland’s bound arms and led him forward.
Tile flooring replaced
the gravel. Wooden floorboards replaced tiles and in turn gave way to thick carpet. A door slammed behind him. The room they’d led him into was stiflingly hot after the chill of the driveway. The rapid change in temperature sent a shiver through him.
As the hands gripping his arms disappeared, silence surrounded him once more, broken only by the sound of logs crackling on a fire. For a few seconds, Ryland managed to focus on his actual surroundings rather than all the horrible possibilities that tangled themselves together his mind. The heat from the fire warmed the right side of his body.
Fire on the right. Door on the left. He knew where he was. Sort of. Even if he didn’t, pretending he did made him feel a little bit better about the world. And it had to be better than thinking about the eyes he could feel roaming over his bare skin. No one laid a hand on him, but disturbed air caressed his skin. Ryland got the distinct impression someone was circling him, that he was being judged.
Against all reason, he found himself hoping whoever it was, would be pleased with what they saw. He wasn’t under any illusions. Guy’s weren’t exactly queuing around the block in the rain for him. But he wasn’t so bad. Some guys seemed to like him. Some guys liked blond hair and blue eyes on general principle. The guy who’d agreed to send him there that night had certainly seemed to like staring at him when Ryland had stripped down to ‘audition’ for the part he was about to play in this stupid little game.
Ryland swallowed several times as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. A slow breath in and out failed to calm his rush towards full out panic.
“No one’s going to hurt you.” Once again, the words came from just behind his ear, but this time they made him freeze rather than spin around. It was a different voice, deeper and richer than the one that had spoken to him outside.
“You were told we have no interest in unwilling men?”
The silence demanded an answer.
“Yes,” Ryland admitted. And he’d been desperate enough to believe it. Bloody fool…
Something touched his cheek. Ryland let out a terrified little whimper before he realized it was nothing more frightening than another man’s hair brushing against him. Impossibly soft lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. A rough tongue rasped against his skin.
Ryland bit back another whimper as the sensation rushed straight down his spine and lodged in his cock.
“You know what’s expected of you?”
“Whatever you want.” Ryland cleared his throat. “I have to do whatever you want for the rest of the night.” He had to. If he didn’t, he’d probably be expected to give the money back—which would be pretty difficult, considering he’d already spent every last penny of it paying the remainder of his tuition fees.
The man behind him made a vague noise, half way between agreement and disagreement. Lips trailed up Ryland’s neck. The heat from a man’s body standing close behind him overpowered the warmth from the fire, rendering the blaze insignificant.
“Tell me what you want me to do?” Ryland asked.
The request was ignored.
Long strands of hair brushed against his other cheek. “Have you ever taken a lion before?”
Ryland shook his head. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard all the tales that were whispered around the university. Werelions lived on campus. A man could make easy money being thrown to the lions. Oh, yes, he knew all the rumors. It was gossip like that that had landed him in this mess in the first place.
Strong. Dominant. Insatiable. Werelions. Half man, half cat. They hunt in groups and share their prizes with the rest of the pride. In that moment, Ryland really wished he hadn’t heard the stories, almost as much as he wished the guy hadn’t said the L word. He’d sounded so human. It would have been so easy to pretend…
The lion closed the gap between them. A hard cock brushed against Ryland’s skin. Against all reason, he felt his own cock twitch in response. The shifter moved closer still. Lining his body up behind Ryland’s, he ran his tongue over his shoulder once more.
Large hands settled on Ryland’s flanks, holding him still, but it didn’t feel like the lion was trying to stop him from escaping. His touch was strong, confident, it seemed to aim to reassure rather than restrain.
The rough tongue’s caress sent a shudder through Ryland’s body. He bowed his head as an image of a kneeling shifter invaded his mind. The possibilities of that tongue turning its attentions to his cock made him whimper.
Warped. Ryland mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He was so warped. Not to mention delusional. Like there was a hope in hell he’d be the one looking down at another man on his knees that night.
Even knowing that, logic proved a poor match for fantasy. His cock hardened further. Ryland tried to bring his hands in front of him to cover his embarrassment. The chain linking the leather cuffs rattled. His hands stayed where they were.
Muffled whispers reached him from some distant part of the room but he couldn’t make out the words. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he realized there was no way he could hide how much he was enjoying the other man’s touch.
The hands on his flanks slid down and settled over his hipbones. The lion’s palms were rough against his skin. It was easy to believe they had seen a great deal of work as paws. The tiny bit of air that remained between him and the other man disappeared. Ryland felt the lion’s body move against him with every breath. He was taller than Ryland, broader, obviously stronger.
And he was just as obviously hung like…like every other lion on the planet for all Ryland knew. Strangely enough, student gossip hadn’t had anything to say on that point. It was possible that huge for a human only represented normal to a lion.
All Ryland really knew was the cock nudging against his skin was hard and ready to play. Pre-cum smeared against his left buttock as the lion rocked his hips. His own cock curved enthusiastically back towards his stomach in response.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Ryland tried not to squirm within the lion’s hold on him. The grip on his hips tightened anyway, as if the shifter knew exactly what was in his head. The other man’s tongue traced a line across his neck.
“There are rules.”
The voice sent another shudder through him. Ryland automatically leaned back against the scorching skin behind him. That earned him a pleased noise, almost like a purr—or how a purr might sound if it emanated from someone twice Ryland’s size. Lips vibrated against his skin, pulling a moan from Ryland in response.
“Repeat what I just said.”
“I…” was all Ryland could manage.
“Rules,” the lion reminded him.
Ryland nodded. “Rules.”
“The word ‘spear’ ends it all. Until you say that word, I will do whatever I want with you. Understand?”
Ryland nodded.
“What do you need to say?”
Ryland licked his lips. “Sp—” He cut himself off. “I don’t want to stop.” He didn’t understand just how true the words were until he’d already said them. He didn’t want this to stop. Every sensible thought in his head scatted at the realization.
“Good boy.” Rough palms against his abs and pulled him back tighter against the other man’s skin, trapping Ryland’s hands between their bodies. The lion felt entirely human, just very hot. Against all logic, Ryland found himself feeling soothed by the were’s strength rather than scared by it.
Lions!
The word screamed around inside his head, but it failed to freak him out the way he was sure it should. When the shifter stepped back and took his warmth away from Ryland’s skin without any warning, he clutched at the empty air behind him, scrabbling to find the other man with his limited reach.
He froze as he realized someone was standing in front of him now. There was no way to tell if it was the same shifter who’d stood behind him. All he could do was stay very still and pray.
Something touched the back of his head where the buckle held the blindfold tight against his face. The strip of
leather fell away.
Ryland blinked his eyes open. He’d been trapped in the darkness behind the blindfold for so long, he couldn’t focus. Rumors of the way the lions looked swirled inside his head. By the time the blur before him morphed into a clear image of a man, he was half expecting to find himself face-to-face with some sort of feline cartoon character.
He blinked again when he saw the reality staring down at him. His mouth opened and closed several times. “Professor!”
The older man’s lips twitched into a small smile.
Ryland stared up at the other man for what felt like a minor eternity. An honest to God lion would have been a hell of a lot easier to wrap his mind around.
“Who were you expecting?” The amusement drained out of the professor’s expression. A predatory light sprang into his eyes.
Ryland had seen him look at students that way before, usually when someone was suicidal enough to try to argue about a rough grade. He’d never realized how it would feel directed at him.
His breath caught in his throat as he automatically tried to pull his brain into gear just in case a complex question about Medieval History was about to be fired off at him. His success was limited. Ryland couldn’t bring himself to feel too surprised.
Professor Arslan was standing right there in front of him, hard and naked and…and his limited historical knowledge be damned. The fact Arslan was right there among the shifters was all Ryland had room in his head for.
Part of him wasn’t the least bit worried about the absence of other thoughts. Nothing could ever be as important as Professor Arslan being there. And him being naked, the bit of Ryland’s brain that connected directly to his cock reminded him. The naked part of the equation was significant too.
Ryland swallowed rapidly. Very significant. As his eyes begged to be allowed to look down, Ryland forced himself to keep his gaze on the other man’s face.