Devarian Uprising

by Sierra Dafoe

  Rolen froze, feeling a wave of pure lust flow through him. He was suddenly, acutely conscious of the emptiness of his large tent, the silence of the night around them. Kantou clung to him, unmoving, not even raising his head. There was such need in the younger man’s voice, a need Rolen’s cock was aching to fulfill.

  But this wasn’t like the times they’d caressed each other under Soleyla’s watchful gaze. This was… different. Intimate in a way that was both frightening and irresistible. He could hear Kantou’s breath, softer now but still ragged, and was uncomfortably aware of his own shallow breathing, and the way every fiber of his body seemed to betray his arousal.

  Slowly, Kantou lifted his head, his soft, heavy hair dragging across Rolen’s skin. Rolen felt his nipples tighten in response. Then Kantou’s mouth was moving gently over his chest, leaving a path of small kisses that burned like fire on his skin. When he reached Rolen’s nipple, he flicked it with his tongue.

  Rolen gasped, his head dropping back, his hand coming up automatically, closing in the younger man’s hair as Kantou sucked his nipple between full, moist lips. Rolen’s cock throbbed in response, as if the band of muscle between his chest and groin was a direct conduit for the sensation.

  Kantou released his nipple and slid lower, working slowly down to where Rolen’s cock strained upward, as if to greet him. He paused, snaking out his tongue to lick the very tip. Rolen jerked involuntarily, his hips rising off the bed, a first drop of fluid leaking from his slit. Delicately, like a cat, Kantou lapped it off, then swirled his tongue around the bulging head.

  The stimulation was intoxicating. As Kantou took Rolen’s cock in his mouth, flicking the underside of it with his tongue, Rolen groaned. The urge to thrust upward, to fuck Kantou’s mouth until he exploded inside it, was almost uncontrollable.

  Gritting his teeth, he fought the hot, demanding hunger inside him. Then Kantou slid one hand around Rolen’s balls, playing with their weight, and let his lips go soft and welcoming around Rolen’s shaft.

  With such an invitation, Rolen couldn’t resist. Wrapping both hands in Kantou’s thick, luxurious hair, he pistoned himself up into that warm, waiting mouth. Kantou moaned, and plunged his head down, his lips stretching as he reached the very base of Rolen’s shaft. Rolen felt the vibration of sound along the entire length of his cock. Clenching his jaw, he froze, fighting the sensations that surged through him. Kantou lapped his cock hungrily, catching his free-flowing come, working his fingers over and over Rolen’s tight, swollen balls.

  Rolen growled as he felt Kantou’s throat tighten convulsively, swallowing his leaking juices. “Kantou, damn it, slow down.”

  Kantou drew back with obvious reluctance, his teeth trailing lightly over the veins of Rolen’s cock. At the touch, Rolen felt his balls contract, and it took all his self-control not to come right then.

  Gently, remembering the way the younger man had been crying, Rolen tugged Kantou upward. Reaching out a hand, he stroked Kantou’s cheek, still damp with tears. Tilting Kantou’s head up, Rolen looked into those luminous gray eyes, feeling a tenderness he’d never known before. He drew Kantou down to him and kissed him, tasting his own slippery, salty tang on Kantou’s lips.

  With a deep, shuddering sigh, Kantou let his cheek rest on Rolen’s broad shoulder. He turned his head, feeling Kantou’s hair tickle his lips as he whispered, “I want to please you, Kantou. Will you let me do that?”

  Kantou hesitated a moment, then nodded. Rolen felt the heat in his groin redouble as, with shaking hands, he drew Kantou upright, positioning the younger man above him. Running his hands up Kantou’s long, lean thighs, Rolen cupped them around his warm, firm ass, drawing Kantou’s cock to his lips.

  Fully erect, it nudged against his waiting mouth. Once again, Rolen marveled at its size as he relaxed his jaw, allowing the huge tip to push slowly between his lips. The clean, musky scent of Kantou’s balls filled his nostrils, making him snort like a horse and suck Kantou’s velvety head deeper. He felt Kantou shudder, and with an inward smile grabbed his ass, spreading the cheeks wide.

  Kantou gasped and arched his back, and Rolen obligingly slid a finger toward his asshole. It flexed and gaped under his probing touch, begging to be entered. He teased it, playing his fingers slowly around the rim while at the same time his mouth worked Kantou’s cock. He felt Kantou relax into the dual stimulation. Slowly, the young man’s hips started pistoning back and forth, alternately driving his cock into Rolen’s waiting mouth and shoving his hot, hungry ass down onto Rolen’s probing finger.

  Rolen could feel Kantou’s balls dragging heavily against the hair on his chest, and suddenly sympathized with Kantou’s impatience. He wanted Kantou to fuck him, damn it, wanted him to drill that gloriously huge cock deep into his throat, burning, punishing, until he drowned in Kantou’s sweet juices.

  But the pleasure-slave had, he knew, more control than Rolen ever would. Keeping the same, even pace, Kantou slowly lengthened his strokes, sending his cock deep into Rolen’s mouth, but never hard, never fast, never as wantonly as Rolen desired.

  His own cock throbbed, and he could feel his hips flexing, instinctively seeking a lover’s touch. Ruthlessly, Rolen suppressed the motion. He’d taken pleasure from Kantou, over and over, and had worried very little about giving pleasure back. Now he was determined to make Kantou forget whatever had so badly grieved him -- however he had to.

  And, as he brought one hand up to wrap around the base of Kantou’s impossibly thick, hard shaft, Rolen realized that, for once, Soleyla wasn’t here to tell them what they could -- or couldn’t -- do.

  Chapter Three

  Soleyla strode through the night, feeling rage quiver along her spine. Did Rolen think they had endless alternatives, that he could afford to reject the one plan she’d managed to come up with which stood a chance of working?

  Her first burst of panic as she’d discovered how small Rolen’s numbers were had grown to dismay at their utter lack of martial training. Some four hundred men, farmers and herders utterly unused to fighting, against League-trained Guardians… It would be no battle, but a slaughter.

  The ground grew rough under her feet as Soleyla worked her way deep into the steep foothills west of the camp, pounding her tension and anger out on the arid, shifting rocks. It was a path her feet were coming to know well.

  What had she gotten herself into? A Guardian captain, sworn now to overthrow the League itself with a handful of barbarian tribesmen who could barely swing a sword!

  Soleyla’s lips twisted in the darkness, forming a self-mocking sneer. She was insane. It was impossible. She knew what the League Guardians were capable of, none better. She’d been one of them, trained alongside them…

  Commanded them.

  Swearing, Soleyla kicked a rock into the darkness, refusing to pursue that thought back into the bitter, poisonous dregs of memory. It was her command on Termigan IV that had cost her Danel.

  Soleyla cursed roundly, damning Rolen, damning her mother, damning herself for having gotten into this mess. But she would not lose Kantou as she had Danel. If she had to fight, to kill, if she had to overthrow the very League itself to protect him, she would do it.

  Such fine words! a voice inside her mocked. Soleyla flushed, recalling vividly how she’d stalked past Kantou earlier, seeing his great gray eyes darken with pain as she stormed past, barely deigning to acknowledge him.

  How could she explain the fear that rode her, that would not allow her a moment’s distraction as she drove Rolen’s men, readying them for a battle they could never ever win?

  And the only plan she’d managed to devise, Rolen had refused. She understood his reluctance -- none better -- but without the one distraction she could think of, they stood no chance at all. Furious, she spat into the night, knowing that even her rage was only a mask for emotions she barely knew how to utter.

  “Oh, Kantou,” Soleyla whispered, her voice full of a yearning she couldn’t allow herself to show -- not now, not with so much
riding on her. She completed the sentence only in her mind. Would that we were a thousand light years from here, and alone.

  As she topped the first of the foothills, the vast ring of the northern mountains loomed above her, a shadowy bulk against the sky, blotting out the fading stars. If only she could do the same! Simply blot out the Nine-Star League, close herself off from it -- herself and Kantou -- into a small, warm space where not even Rachel Devarian’s long arm could reach.

  Thinking of Rolen’s sword, and the long-dead Guardian who had wielded it, Soleyla felt a kinship with that unknown woman, Merrin Trafalgar. She’d give anything to be able to do what Merrin had done, just flee with her Kantou to someplace far beyond the League’s control.

  But where was there, now, to run?

  Soleyla sank to the hillside, drawing her sword and laying it across her knees. The waning night was cool, peaceful, soft with the moist spring breezes blowing up from the south. But to Soleyla, that peace was deceptive. She could feel events building, massing on the horizon like a storm.

  The ring of mountains swept away in a wide arc north, turning to plunge south again on the far side of the plain. Beyond them, the sky blushed with the first faint streaks of dawn. Soleyla studied them suspiciously through bloodshot eyes. What was happening beyond those craggy peaks?

  By now, of course, Commander Valda could have ’ported in a whole battalion of Guardians, each trained as Soleyla herself was to a combat readiness these nomadic Antoreans couldn’t even imagine. For all Soleyla knew, an entire army was lying hidden behind those mountains, readying itself to descend on the sleeping camp.

  For all her apprehension, there was no doubt in Soleyla’s mind about why she was doing this. The image of Kantou, waiting faithfully by the fire even as she stalked past him, was reason enough. She would not lose him. Kantou was hers. Hers alone. If she had to fight, to die, if she had to overthrow the League itself to gain his freedom, she would do it.

  To fail was unthinkable. For herself it would mean execution as a traitor and a rebel -- and Soleyla had no doubt that her mother would sign her death warrant without a single quiver in those cool, capable fingers. But for Kantou…

  Soleyla shuddered, picturing the hideous, overlacing scars that marred the smooth skin of his back.

  Oh, my beauty, what have I gotten us into?

  * * *

  Kantou felt as if he were being torn in two. His body writhed in erotic delight as he straddled Rolen, feeling the larger man’s broad, muscled chest under his ass while Rolen’s mouth and hands worked deliriously over his throbbing erection. His skin felt caressed by searing liquid fire, and he breathed in short, hard gasps to control the tension mounting in his balls.

  But inside…

  Kantou moaned and pushed his cock deeper into Rolen’s waiting mouth, seeking oblivion in that hot, wet embrace. He could feel Rolen’s tongue dancing over the shaft, urging him on, while his sphincter was penetrated by the Antorean’s thick, heavy finger. He arched back to meet it, feeling it slide into him roughly -- but not roughly enough to blot out the despair blackening his soul.

  Soleyla didn’t want him. Didn’t need him.

  Didn’t love him.

  Kantou dropped his head back, feeling his thick, heavy hair slide silkily over his back. Trapped between his internal agony and the ecstasy Rolen’s mouth created, he writhed, his chest burning with pain, his cock with pleasure. In the space between was a hollow, gaping emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole.

  He thrust his hips forward, feeling Rolen struggle to encompass the whole of his shaft. Rolen’s eyes -- a blue so deep they were almost black -- gazed up at him hungrily. Yes, Kantou thought, he wanted that. Wanted Kantou to fuck him, hard, fill him until he burst.

  And why not? What was there left to lose? Soleyla had set him free. Why should he not use that freedom as he liked?

  He leaned forward, bracing himself on his arms, and looked down, watching, as he pumped his shaft deep in Rolen’s mouth. “You like that, don’t you?”

  Gagged by Kantou’s cock, eyes half closed in ecstasy, Rolen nodded. The sudden pressure the motion created sent a jolt up Kantou’s spine.

  “Do you want more, Rolen?”

  The gleam in Rolen’s eyes was answer enough. Closing his own eyes, Kantou shoved the darkness inside him away and forced himself to feel nothing, nothing but the heat of Rolen’s mouth, the full, firm lips tugging at his massive, swollen cock, sucking it deep, tongue lashing like a snake over, around and under it.

  Blindly, Kantou reached out, closed his fists in Rolen’s thick, jet-black hair. Pinning Rolen in his grasp, he drove his shaft deep, plunging it into Rolen’s mouth. Rolen’s hand came up, grabbing Kantou’s ass, urging him on as he sped up, pulling his cock out until Rolen’s lips stretched around his hard, shiny tip, then thrusting, hard, as Rolen’s fingernails raked across his ass cheeks, down his thighs. Rolen’s eyes were closed in delirious hunger and suddenly Kantou hated him, hated him with a passion as hot and explosive as the pressure building up in his balls.

  This man had fucked Soleyla. He had filled her hot, tight cunt with his cock, had groaned as he released his come into her. He had been allowed that -- and Kantou loathed him for it.

  Jerking his cock out of Rolen’s mouth, he stared down at the Antorean.

  “No. No, you’d like that too much, wouldn’t you?”

  Rolen gazed back at him, his eyes confused. A hard grin knotted Kantou’s cheeks. His balls were so full they ached. Kantou squeezed them lightly, redoubling the pain. He remembered how Soleyla had commanded him to do just that, leaning forward, her lips slightly parted, her face flushed with arousal as she watched him.

  The recollection raised an animalistic fury inside him. He wanted to fuck, damn it. Wanted to take his anguish and pain and thwarted desire out on this man who lay beneath him, flushed with arousal. This man who had come between him and his Soleyla.

  Kantou growled through clenched teeth, “You really want to please me, Rolen?” He saw Rolen’s eyes widen at the menace in his tone, but the Antorean nodded.

  There was one thing Soleyla had not allowed them. They had masturbated each other, playing their fingers over each other’s erect cocks, squeezing and tormenting each other’s balls under her glittering gaze. They’d sucked each other off, their hips rocking in unison as they suckled and lapped, spilt their seed in each other’s mouths. And Rolen had fucked him, oh yes, had buried his thick hard cock deep inside Kantou’s ass.

  But Kantou hadn’t fucked Rolen.

  “Turn over,” he ordered. Rolen froze for a moment, staring at the club-like shaft of the younger man’s cock. Kantou reached out and twisted his nipple cruelly. As Rolen gasped, his cock twitching with desire, Kantou grinned again.

  “You want it rough, Rolen? You want me to fuck you, hard? Bury myself in that hot, horny ass?” As he spoke, he watched Rolen’s face flush with shame and excitement. “You do, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” The word was a whisper, breathed unwillingly into the shadows of the tent.

  “Then turn over!”

  Scrambling to his knees, Rolen turned around and bent over, thrusting his strong, muscular ass high in the air. Kantou fought back the surge that swelled through him, a deep, primal craving to shove himself home, pinion Rolen below him and thrust and thrust until his need was assuaged.

  Reaching for the oil jar Soleyla had placed near the bed, Kantou slowly lubricated Rolen’s ass. Probing with one finger, he shivered in anticipation. Gods! Rolen was so tight. Never having been violated by anything thicker than a wax candle, his asshole gripped Kantou’s finger like a vise.

  Kantou slid his finger back and forth, reaching around with his other hand to smear oil across the Antorean’s thick cock. Rolen moaned under him, pushing his hips back as Kantou pumped his fist up and down his shaft. Under the dual stimulation, Rolen’s asshole relaxed, and he gasped as Kantou worked a second finger into him.

  “You like that, Rolen?”


  Rolen moaned, tossing his head, and Kantou felt a bolt of rage sear through him. Bastard! He took, and took, and found nothing but pleasure in breaking Kantou’s heart.

  Now he would know what it was like to be the one taken.

  Letting go of Rolen’s cock, Kantou whipped his hand around and brought it smacking squarely down on Rolen’s ass. “Answer me!”

  Rolen jerked at the smack, his back stiffening. Kantou felt Rolen’s sphincter spasm around his fingers, clamping down. Then the man below him rocked back, thrusting himself onto the fingers invading him, and his breathing grew ragged as his asshole relaxed further, almost begging to be violated. The mark of Kantou’s slap showed clearly on his white skin. Kantou looked at it, and swallowed.

  “Yes. Yes, I like it. I love it. Please…”

  Kantou wouldn’t have believed he could get any harder. He was wrong. As Rolen squirmed under him heedlessly, begging to be taken, he felt his cock swell further, jutting spear-like at the hole into which his fingers now plunged. Rolen’s voice, harsh and urgent, rough with need, seemed to vibrate in the pit of his stomach, sending shockwaves into his engorged balls.

  “Please, Kantou. I want you to fuck me. I want you to bury your cock inside me. I want you to pound my ass. Please. Fuck me, Kantou.”

  Writhing below him, Rolen wantonly rolled his hips, and Kantou could wait no longer. Spreading Rolen’s cheeks with both hands, he placed the engorged purple tip of his cock against that hot, pulsing opening. Rolen fell still beneath him, his body relaxed, waiting.

  Kantou’s cock nudged against the tight, oiled rim, prodding. He could feel Rolen’s concentration as the Antorean struggled to open himself as wide as he could, easing Kantou’s entry. Rolen’s hands came up and grabbed his own asscheeks, stretching them apart, and Kantou could see his balls, round and taut, just below that deliciously tight opening. Reaching down with one hand, he stroked them, and with the other guided his huge, throbbing shaft to Rolen’s sphincter.

  As he pressed, firmly and steadily, he felt the hard ring of muscle stretch to encompass his swollen head. It spasmed, almost sending him over the edge, and he stopped, rocking gently back and forth until the spasm eased. Rolen mewled like a cat below him, frozen in an ecstasy that Kantou knew was half agony, half stark lust. Then, as his body relaxed, adjusting to the gargantuan cock invading it, Rolen pushed back against him, allowing his cock to slide in deeper in deeper.