by A. C. Ellas
He reached down and gently pulled Rak’s wings up into easy reach, and as Rak sucked on his nuts, both pleasuring and revitalizing them, he indulged himself in long, languorous strokes of Rak’s wings. The membranes slid softly under his hands, supple and strong, in the peak of health. Through the bond, he could sense the tactile pleasure his wing stroking gave to Rak. He slid his hands around the leading edges of the wings to stroke the undersides of the sail membranes. Rak shuddered in response, moaning around his mouthful.
Jisten gently disengaged himself from Rak’s mouth and tugged the smaller man up. His erection slid against Rak’s hairless, muscular chest to the swelling lump of the belly. Jisten reached a hand down to Rak’s middle and stroked the kironi opening. It opened for him just as his cock reached the right area. Jisten speared it with an upward thrust before it could seal itself.
Rak made a small sound in the back of his throat. Not a whimper, but not a noise of pleasure, either. Jisten’s hands resumed stroking the underside of Rak’s wings and he could feel his mate relaxing bit by bit. He waited patiently for Rak to relax and start to enjoy it. Kironi sex was so wonderful, so much better than the regular way, and he didn’t want to deprive Rak of sharing that ecstasy with him.
When Rak finally started undulating against Jisten in time to the action of the hands on his wings, Jisten began to thrust. He stroked the walls of Rak’s insides with his member, trying to evoke as much pleasure as he could. Rak cried out softly, and through the bond, Jisten could sense his pleasure. Jisten smiled in victory and increased the depth and power of his thrusts but not the speed. Wave after wave of sensation crashed through him, and he didn’t want it to end. His rate was languorously slow in contrast to their power and depth. Just the way he liked it.
Even with a slow action, he could only stave off climax for so long, and Rak’s sweet body was skilled at milking his seed from him. Jisten pumped his way through the orgasm, gasping softly as the ecstasy briefly overwhelmed his senses. He held Rak through the smaller man’s dependent climax, catching it in his hand. He brought it to his lips and whispered a prayer to Si’Yeni. When he opened his hand again, the seed was gone.
Now, Jisten rolled Rak onto his back, careful not to dislodge himself. He positioned Rak’s cooperative body the way he wanted it and smiled down at his mate. “Beautiful,” he said.
“What is?” Rak asked, his body flexing against Jisten’s hard, impaling pole.
“You are,” said Jisten seriously. “And this is. You, beneath me, with my manhood fully sheathed in you. It is a very beautiful sight.”
“Thank you,” said Rak after several long, silent moments. He reached down and caressed Jisten’s balls. “Ride me hard.”
Jisten grinned in delight and did just that. He went from languid to pounding in an instant. Holding Rak pinned beneath him, he dominated Rak’s kironi opening with his meat, staring into Rak’s face the entire time. “So good,” he gasped as he hammered himself into Rak. “Love this.” He sank balls-deep with each inward thrust. On the backslide, he pulled out until the crown of his head tugged against Rak’s entrance. Abruptly, he changed his rhythm to prolong the contact. His inward thrust remained hard and fast, but he pulled out with extreme slowness, savoring the sensation of Rak’s opening grasping hungrily at his cock as if loathe to release it. “Your body wants this,” he told Rak.
“Yes, please, make love to me, Jisten,” Rak said between pants, one of the longest sentences he’d ever gotten out of Rak during sex.
Jisten kept his alternating rhythm going until the tension in his balls and back was more than he could bear. He gave a last few powerful thrusts and pulsated another load of his seed into Rak’s womb. Rak’s dependent orgasm splashed against Jisten’s thighs and he grimaced reflexively. He pulled out of Rak when he softened and lay down on his side, his upper hand idly stroking Rak’s bare body.
Rak scooted down and licked Jisten’s package clean with a deft, sensual tongue. Then, the Loftoni went between Jisten’s legs and licked him clean of the drying seed, too.
Jisten grunted in satisfaction but tugged Rak back up as soon as he was done. Once Rak was lying beside him again, Jisten rolled Rak’s soft scrotum in his hand.
Rak spread his legs to give Jisten better access. “Thank you,” Rak said softly.
“You’re welcome, but I wish you’d stop thanking me for that. I should be thanking you.” Jisten squeezed Rak’s nuts then went back to rolling them in his fingers.
“I am your slave,” Rak replied. He laid a hand atop Jisten’s and pressed the larger hand against his groin hard. “It would not be proper for you to thank me for enjoying what is yours by right to take. It is proper for me to thank you for enjoying me.”
“S’Raaak.” Jisten tried to pull his hand away, but Rak prevented it. “You’re my slave in name only. I love you.”
“I am yours in law, Jisten, and I love you, too.” Rak rubbed himself against Jisten’s trapped hand, then he reached for Jisten’s flaccid genitals and slowly rubbed both his hands over Jisten’s cock and balls in a submissive display.
Jisten pursed his lips, glancing down at Rak. “I still don’t like it.”
Rak turned around, careful to leave his balls pressed into Jisten’s hand, until he could reach Jisten with his head. He proceeded to rub his face against Jisten’s sex, kissing strategically, until every bit of his face had been touched by Jisten’s cock and balls. “Please permit me to pleasure you orally.”
“Not now,” Jisten replied. “We need to get up already—much to do today.”
Chapter Three: The Offer
“What if it’s a girl?” Owain abruptly asked, his forkful of ham hovering halfway between plate and mouth.
“Pardon? If what’s a girl?” Virien glanced at his brother sleepily from over the rim of his café mug.
“Marea’s child. What if it’s a girl?”
“We rebreed the slave,” said Virien, shrugging. “Of course, it would be easier if we had the slave.”
“The justicers ruled in Jisten’s favor.” Owain took another bite of the ham steak. “Face it, brother, you lost fairly.”
Virien waved that off as unimportant although he seethed internally. “So what? Jisten doesn’t deserve a slave like that. He can’t protect it. We should buy the slave from him—after all, the slave has royal blood. You don’t want him falling into just anyone’s hands. And if Jisten proves unreasonable…well, accidents do happen.”
“No, I won’t be a party to murder,” stated Owain. “But, yes, I think you’re right. I’ll make Jisten a generous offer for Araken. I’d sleep better knowing he was safe as crown property.”
“I’m sure Jisten will see your wisdom.” Virien somehow managed not to roll his eyes.
“I’ll write up an offer after breakfast,” Owain declared.
Virien was grateful to return his attention to his café. A girl, indeed, he snorted to himself. My Marea knows her duty. She’d not dare to give me a girl baby.
True to his word, once he’d finished eating, Owain pulled out pen and parchment and started to think. This process was occasionally interrupted by short spates of furious scribbling.
Virien didn’t hurry himself but lingered over a last mug of café and some fresh, perfectly ripe fruit. He wanted to see what Owain would offer for his son.
Finally, the monarch stopped writing and looked over the page. He nodded and handed it over. “What do you think?”
Virien scanned it quickly. Five thousand gold royals, an increase in rank from baron to earl and an expansion of lands to include some prime northern real estate and the Valer district in Karpos City. “Exceedingly generous, brother. Jisten won’t have the wit to appreciate this, mark my words.”
“If he doesn’t, we’ll claim the slave anyway. It’s a matter of national security, after all.” Owain took the paper back. “I’ll be in my study. Please inform the captain that I wish to speak to him.”
* * * *
He found the monarch waiting in his office with a platter of cookies before him. “Ah, Captain,” he said. “Honey or chocolate?”
“No, thank you, Sire. I have bad memories of my last encounter with a cookie,” Jisten said.
“Your loss,” said Owain. He selected a honey disk and bit in. “They’re still warm and gooey inside,” he mumbled. “You really should...”
Jisten’s eyes widened slightly and he shook his head.
Owain took a long drink of the glass of milk at his elbow. “Now, Captain, I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to speak with you, other than my desire to share cookies with you.”
“Yes, Sire.” Jisten still stood at attention.
“Have a seat, Captain.” Owain picked up a piece of paper and offered it. “I think you might like this.”
Jisten sat down on the edge of the chair, posture straight. He accepted the paper and read it. It was an offer for Rak. A lot of money and expansion of lands to include the entire Valer district. “Ah, thank you, Sire, most generous. But S’Rak is bonded to me. The justicers confirmed that he’s mine. I could never part with him.” Jisten stood.
“It is improper for a low noble to own a slave like Araken. You will spend more than he’s worth trying to keep him safe from those who’d take him away from you. He is of royal blood, Captain. Please be reasonable here. Sell him to the crown, and I will keep him safe. You can even stay with him, if that’s what you want. In fact, that would be best, since Araken has…needs.”
“If I may be so bold as to ask, why do you want S’Rak, Sire?”
“He is my son,” said Owain. “He should never have been enslaved at all. I want to mitigate the diplomatic disaster if I can. If he’s owned by the crown, well, I can make sure that Okyro is mollified and that nobody can use him against me.”
“I would never use S’Rak against you,” Jisten said. “He’ll be safest with me. He’s bonded to me by the gods. I could never hurt him, and Okyro knows that.”
“Just think,” cajoled the king. “Rak would be safe from the likes of my brother and have the freedom of any palace slave, and you could stay with him. In addition, your Valers in the city would be under your protection as their landowner, they could even own their own homes and no longer have to fear making the rent or the slaver’s debt collar.”
“Your Majesty is most gracious.” Little beads of sweat dotted his brow. “But S’Rak is happiest and safest with me. I would never let him be used against you by your adopted brother or anyone else. Really, Sire, having a dark servant as your slave would make you a target. My race worships both houses. I am far safer than you would be.”
“Keeping a slave like that will bankrupt you,” said Owain, doggedly persistent. “You don’t have the men to guard him or the resources to win a battle against any reaver that comes along. So long as Araken is your property, you are a target. Surely you realize that? It’s not like I’m saying you can never see Araken again. All we’re talking about is who owns the slave on paper. That piece of paper, listing me as owner, is protection for your both.”
“I have sufficient forces to repulse any attack, Sire,” Jisten said. “And as I am a low noble, it leaves you out of any political difficulty with dark forces clashing on your lands. You can stay above it all, while S’Rak and I are safe. I appreciate your concerns, but I assure you, your son is safest with me. May I go now?”
“Go,” said Owain with great reluctance.
Jisten departed the royal wing at a pace just short of a run. He went straight to Rak to apprise him of the situation. When he got to his rooms, he found his mate sitting cross-legged on the bed folding laundry. He immediately gasped out the gist of the conversation.
Rak was no fool. He was up off the bed and reaching for the chest the packs were stored in before Jisten finished speaking. “The king will invoke the crown’s right of seizure next. We must leave today, before he can force us both to remain.” He paused a moment and then said, “Do not ask Scorth to pack.”
Jisten blinked. “Isn’t Scorth exploring the mountains west of here?”
“Ai, but still. Do not ever ask him to pack. Not if you want your belongings to make the trip with you.”
Jisten chuckled.
Rak ducked out into the sitting room and opened the door. “Pika,” he called.
His battleaxe of a guard tromped in. “Thez. What’s going on?”
“We are leaving. Can you see to the avtappi? S’Liast and Jethain will accompany us.”
Pika tossed him an offhand salute. “Consider it done. Might want to tell Prince Sunny that we’re going, though.”
“I will take that under advisement,” Rak replied dryly. He exchanged a quick military handshake with her then turned back to the packing.
Pikara watched him another moment, her eyes dark with repressed emotion. She saw Jisten watching her and her lip curled into a sneer. “What’cha lookin’ at, Captain Hot Ass?”
Jisten could feel his face turning bright red, but he held his ground. “I care about S’Rak, too. And I’m not—”
Pikara snorted. “I’ll be in the stable.” She stalked out before Jisten could get another word in.
“I think she is starting to like you,” Rak said without looking up.
“Surely you jest.”
“I never jest. I have no sense of humor. All know this.” The twitching lips gave the lie to Rak’s words.
Jisten laughed this time. He walked over to his desk and wrote two notes. Then, he paused. “I need three notes to send, S’Rak.”
“To whom are you sending the first two?”
“Jethain and S’Liast, to let them know we’re leaving and it’s urgent.”
“Ah. Then send a note to Tebber, also, asking him to stay here and help S’Ioli. I will not need a servant where we are going, and S’Ioli does need the help.”
Jisten wrote the third note then said, “Message.” His three mastigi crawled out of his uniform, clicking delightedly. One by one, he fixed them in his gaze and concentrated on whom he wanted them to go to. Then, he gave them their note and let them fly. It took less than a minute to send all three mastigi on their errands. He walked over to Rak and ran an appreciative hand up Rak’s smooth, bare leg.
Rak glanced sideways at him. “Keep that up and we will never get out of here.”
“Do you remember Saga?” Jisten murmured, his lips a finger width from Rak’s ear.
“Of course.” Rak chuckled softly. His wings unfurled and slid about Jisten’s body. “Do you remember the fun we had on the ride home?”
“You read my mind. I don’t want you to change into anything else,” Jisten told him. Rak was dressed in one the thinner, shorter tunics, the ones that stopped mid-thigh. The ones that drove Jisten wild. He reached down and caressed Rak’s butter-soft balls, but he forced himself to step away from the smaller man before things got out of hand. With a faint regret, he turned his attention to packing.
Rak had cannily left most of what they’d brought from the palace in the packs, so it was the work of a half hour at the most to repack everything. Rak attempted to lug the packs out the door.
Jisten intercepted and relieved him of half the load. “I don’t care if it looks bad. I’m helping.”
“Ai, master,” said Rak impishly, flashing a grin.
Jisten wanted to protest, but they were out in the public corridor now. He sighed, shook his head and headed for the stables.
Chapter Four: Departure
The light wagon was parked in the middle of the stable yard, the two draft avtappi already harnessed and hitched up to it. Rak set his packs in the bed before he stepped up to the black and grey-spotted beasts. They were big-boned, with f
eathering on their thick legs that almost hid the climbing claws. They were normally as placid as the draft horses they were descended from but retained the fire of their vranyxia sides when threatened. Rak stroked their soft noses in greeting while he wondered why they were out here. The wagon—and these two avtappi—belonged to the embassy.
Nymis, Ikayone and Tebber walked out of the palace bearing packs.
Rak turned to them. “What is going on?”
“S’Ioli has decided to travel with you for a while. At this time, there is nothing going on here that requires his attention.” Nymis grinned. “He wants to visit the temple in Loftos.”
“Ah. Jisten’s estate would be a good halfway point then.” Rak was pleased to have the company.
Dolron and Phonasa came out of the palace while Rak was speaking. They carefully set their burdens in the wagon.
“S’Liast needs more help,” Phonasa said.
“We’re coming,” Nymis replied. The guards all headed back toward the palace. They were in step before they were halfway to the door.
Jisten set a hand on Rak’s shoulder, preventing him from following the guards. “Stay with me. Let’s go help Pikara saddle the avtappi.”
Rak nodded and walked into the stable. Someone had set gear out for each and every avtappi in the stables.
Kennit bounced up to them as soon as they entered the barn. “Can I come? Please? You’ll need a stable hand who knows avtappi. Please?”
Rak reached out and tousled his hair. “Of course you may come with us. Ride Vrema. She gets lonely with S’Tyll gone so much.”
Kennit squealed with glee and shot off down the aisle. “Oh, thank you, sir! Hey, Pikara! He said I could come!”
“Good! Now help me saddle the avtappi,” Pikara hollered back, equally cheerful.
With four of them working, it didn’t take long to tack up all the avtappi. They saddled the remounts as well, for Jisten quietly pointed out that the prince would still have a bodyguard. It was required. Rak did a quick count and shrugged. There were enough avtappi to go around. The beasts without bonded riders trotted out to the yard once they were saddled. Rak asked them to select riders for the trip.