by Evey Brett
Just as Dane said, Kon was soon on his knees, blubbering incoherently.
“Look well.” Dane took the flogger. He bent to kiss Kon’s forehead. Kon calmed but tilted his head upward, obviously hoping for more. Dane gazed at Eliana, eyebrows slightly raised.
She didn’t know what he wanted. Look at Kon. Look at what? He was so beautiful she wanted to touch him, fuck him, raise more welts on his skin.
Dane gave a small sigh, then led Kon to the dais. He urged Kon to lie on his side on the futon, one leg crooked upward to expose his buttocks.
Incense burned. Bowls of oil sat ready for use. Several wooden dildos, carved to be anatomically accurate, waited to perform.
Dane arranged himself so Kon’s head rested in his lap. “Touch him. Feel him.”
She rested her hands on his back, still hot from the flogging. “He’s warm. The welts are softer than I thought.”
Dane shook his head. Yet again she’d earned his disappointment. This had to be more of that cryptic bullshit. Either that or Dane was playing games with her, and there was no way in hell she’d put up with that.
“Try again. Oil him well inside and out. Use the smallest dildo first to give him time to adjust.”
She dipped her fingers in the viscous liquid kept warm by a candle burning beneath it. The scent of sandalwood drifted to her nose as she dripped oil along the crack of Kon’s ass.
With growing enthusiasm, she circled the tight muscle of his asshole. It surprised her that fondling a man’s body, especially one so well made, ceased to hold any disgust. Kon was hers to play with, to please, to love, and she’d show Dane just what she could do with him.
Once she felt him relax, she gently pressed one finger inside until he accepted her. A second finger followed. She slid them in and out, marveling at the way Kon’s body accepted her intrusion, almost sucking her hand into the tight, wet heat.
“There’s a place inside—” Dane began, but Eliana waved him to silence so she could concentrate and explore on her own. She felt a round hardness beneath her probing fingers. Kon jerked. Inspired by his reaction, she continued to rub, eliciting more squirming and a few strangled moans.
She withdrew her fingers and reached for a dildo. Feeling wicked, she bypassed the first dildo for the second. She oiled it well, then nudged it against Kon’s asshole. Kon wriggled but made no effort to escape. She pressed, easing slowly past the initial resistance until the dildo slid in all the way to the carved testicles.
Kon’s ragged breaths filled the room. Pleased with the response she’d gotten, she gazed at Dane.
The man still wasn’t happy. His lips were pinched, his fingers tight around Kon’s shoulder.
“What did I do?”
“It’s what you didn’t do. Watch.” Without explaining, he parted his robe, exposing first his fine, muscular torso and then his swollen cock. A little nudging at Kon’s lips and Kon eagerly took the member within his mouth. He sucked it, whimpering softly.
Dampness gathered between Eliana’s legs as she watched, imagining what Kon’s tongue must feel like as he so expertly licked and sucked. What’s the difference? We both gave Kon something he wanted.
Eliana swayed, breathless at the sight of Kon penetrated by cocks at both ends. Dane nodded. He rocked his hips to drive himself farther down Kon’s throat. Kon’s untended cock strained, the tip shining. Eliana reached out to touch it, but Dane stopped her. “Use the next one.”
She lovingly prepared the largest dildo before removing the other. She didn’t give Kon time to adjust to its absence but drove the new wooden phallus hard and deep. Muffled by Dane’s cock, Kon moaned and shuddered, though he did not yet climax. His muscles strained against the ropes.
“Touch him,” Dane said. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Kon’s head, forcing him to swallow more.
Eliana reached around Kon’s leg and wrapped her hand around his cock. He trembled. The tip of his cock was sticky and warm beneath her thumb. She dug her nails into the delicate flesh of his balls, warm and taut. Kon moaned, the sound muffled by Dane’s cock.
Eliana shivered as a surge of desire streaked through her belly. A man’s body had never seemed so delicate or vulnerable, but Kon’s was. She could hurt him, tease him, or drive him mad, all by giving or denying physical contact. Giddiness made her head swim at the realization of how much power she wielded over him—and how careful she had to be not to exploit it.
Up and down she stroked his cock. Kon twitched and groaned. His feet scrabbled against the sheets. She grabbed the base of the dildo, pulled it partway out, and thrust it in again.
Kon continued to squirm. Eliana panted as she pumped. Her arms burned from the effort.
“Look at him.” Dane’s voice was softer, pleading.
The tone hit her last nerve. “Stop it! I don’t know what the hell you mean. I’m touching him. I’m fucking him. What else do you want from me?”
“Look at him.” Dane extracted himself from Kon’s mouth. Kon’s eyes were closed, but his mouth continued to work.
“I’m looking. I’m looking! See, he’s about to—”
Kon gave one deep, rolling shudder before spasming in climax. White fluid spurted across her hand, coating her fingers and dripping onto the futon. A strangled cry ripped from his throat.
Yet it wasn’t a sound of pleasure or mild discomfort. It was the wail her cat had made after being hit by a car.
Horrified, Eliana jerked out the dildo and held her hands high and away. Her heart thudded. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. She visually searched Kon, but there was no blood, no sign of anything broken. Deep shudders racked his body.
Dane just stared, wrinkles deepening at the corners of his eyes. He shook his head and exhaled. He stroked Kon’s head and said just loud enough for her to hear, “She doesn’t understand. I don’t know what else I can do.”
A tear trickled from Kon’s eye. She’d hurt him, but she didn’t know what she’d done. “I’m sorry. Please, I don’t know what—”
“It’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”As she watched, Kon’s skin paled to a pasty white. His breathing grew shallow and choppy.
It was as if she was caught in some fairy tale with a trial akin to guessing Rumpelstiltskin’s name. Asking directly didn’t work, because she was supposed to know it already. And when Dane tried to spell it out, it was as if he spoke in some incomprehensible language, and no matter how long or how hard she tried, she couldn’t decipher it. And if she failed…
If she failed…
The tremors ceased abruptly. Kon stopped breathing. Face grave, Dane draped his kimono over Kon’s body.
“No.” Eliana crawled over and pounded on his arms. “I didn’t have time. I didn’t have a chance!”
Dane tucked the edges of the kimono beneath Kon’s head and arms. “You can’t see the truth. Not his or yours.”
She might not have finished high school, but she was plenty smart enough to understand if he’d only tell her what he meant. “Stop talking in riddles. How the hell am I supposed to figure it out?”
“It’s not about your brains. It’s about your heart.”
She remembered Kon in the parking lot, placid and still in his meditation. Not once could she recall having such peace. “How do I find it? How?”
Dane’s kiss was soft, gentle, and full of compassion but lacked the information she needed.
“Tell me, damn it!”
“You have to find the path yourself.” He gathered Kon’s limp body into his arms. Staggering slightly, he rose like a Greek warrior carrying his shrouded lover from a field of battle.
When he was halfway to the door, he paused and gazed at her over his shoulder. “I have faith in you.”
She would have asked why, but she woke to a pillow damp with tears.
* * * *
Sitting on the bed in his suite, Kon studied the file as much to distract himself from another highly charged dream as to search for ans
wers he wanted and couldn’t find. He laid photos of himself and his father side by side. Face of an angel. Son of a devil and a demon. Looking at Viktor’s 1939 portrait when his father was thirty-five, Kon was riveted by the contrast of the stark coldness of his expression and the hot fierceness of his gaze. He was dressed in a sharp black officer’s uniform and would have been handsome if not for the almost obscene passion in his eyes.
They bore the same eyes and facial features, though Kon’s were softened, almost feminine. They had striking similarities externally—at least some of the inside must match as well. Kon’s eyes burned as he reread the file.
Eliana’s departure made it clear just how true the old taunt was. Angel’s face and devil’s spawn. His Sensitivity was more of a burden than a gift and only served to drive people away. His father had reduced entire lives to paper without thought to his subjects’ wishes. Kon shouldn’t have looked in the damn envelope—yet he couldn’t have not looked.
“Are you going to go back to your clinic today? It’s been almost a week.” Dane didn’t look up from typing at the computer.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Guilt nagged at him. He knew his patients needed him, but after Eliana’s harsh words, he was afraid to go near any of them. He’d been drilled in the ethical use of Sensitivity from his first day as a student. Yet he couldn’t drum up the courage to return to the clinic he’d founded. What if Eliana was right and he was doing things he shouldn’t, even unwittingly?
What if his father’s blood was in him too deeply to ever truly let go?
“Tomorrow? You’ve said that every day since we got back. I’ve gotten three articles and a short story written, and all you’ve done is sit there and mope.”
“I’m not moping.”
“Right.” Like a panther, Dane prowled onto the bed. With one muscled arm, he put Kon in a headlock. “If you don’t put those papers away, I’m going burn them.”
Dane rarely made idle threats when he believed he was protecting Kon, yet Kon couldn’t make himself put the file away. Somewhere in there had to be a way to eradicate the darkness within him so Eliana wouldn’t be afraid of him.
Damn it. She kept popping into his head at the most unreasonable times. His gut stirred as he recalled the dream and how Eliana had been Dane’s willing accomplice in bringing him to a mind-racking climax he couldn’t compare to any in the waking world.
“What’s it going to take to forget her?” Dane pulled Kon backward so Kon had no choice but to lie against his chest and listen to the steadiness of his heart. Dane wrapped his legs around Kon’s, offering no hope for escape.
Not that Kon wanted to escape. Locked in Dane’s embrace, he was wrapped in comfort and love. Dane had been unfailingly attentive since their return to the enclave, seeing to Kon’s every need, tempting him with favorite foods, leaving silly toys on his tray to get a smile out of him. He should be happy. The past could be put to rest, and he could focus on Dane and their future together…without Eliana. “I’m sorry. I miss her.”
“If having a female partner would make you happy, I’d do anything to make that happen. The last time you fell for a dominant woman, you ended up hurt.”
“Eliana isn’t anything like Valerie.”
“And how would I know what Valerie was like?” Dane’s arms suddenly tightened around him, making it hard for Kon to breathe. “You never told me.”
“There was no reason to—”
“No reason?” Dane untangled himself, forced Kon backward onto the bed. He pinned Kon’s arms and legs down, emanating a flood of hurt and grief. “Damn it, Kon. I’ve waited years for you to talk, and all that time I’ve been going over it again and again, wondering what happened and how I could have stopped her. I wanted you to have a good time, so I let her take you, but I’ve never regretted anything so much in my life.”
Kon couldn’t look away from those searching blue eyes. He’d known at the time Dane had taken it personally, but he hadn’t been able to cope with that pain added to his own and shoved it aside, hoping it would all go away. Obviously, it hadn’t.
“Tell me. Please. No more secrets.” He leaned down and kissed Kon, tongue probing Kon’s mouth as if to coax him to speak.
Kon closed his eyes, recalling Valerie’s lean, catlike figure, and shuddered.
Dane lay down against Kon, one hand resting on Kon’s chest. “Tell me,” he whispered in Kon’s ear.
* * * *
Valerie entered Kon’s clinic in mid-May on a day sunny yet cool. She was a Warden visiting Denver from back East. Boston, Kon thought but couldn’t remember. She wasn’t the first woman Kon had been attracted to, but she was the most striking. Her hair was cropped short and slicked back in a boy’s cut. Fitted black pants outlined her thighs and butt, and the red blouse was cut low enough to show off her cleavage. Yet it wasn’t her looks that caught Kon’s attention—it was her self-confidence and the way she emanated such control over her body that made him want to strip naked and grovel at her feet.
Having her pacing in the waiting room made it damnably hard to concentrate on his last patient for the day. Without needing it said aloud, he knew she’d come for him, and it wasn’t to be healed.
“You’re Konstantin?” she asked after Kon sent his patient on his way. When he could only nod, she smiled. “You’re even more beautiful in person. I’ve come a long way to meet you. Are you free this weekend?” She trailed one bloodred fingernail down his cheek just hard enough to imply she could cut him if she wished.
His cock hardened, and he shivered. Yes. Oh yes, Kon wanted to say. “I…I have to ask permission.”
“Do. I’ve rented the Red Room.”
Kon fought back another surge of arousal. The Red Room wasn’t named so much for the color of the furnishings as for the color of a submissive’s skin after a session. Kon and Dane had gone there on special occasions but usually preferred the comfort of their suite. Going there with a new partner was always exciting.
Dane, upon hearing Kon’s eagerness and meeting Valerie himself, had consented with the provision he attend the first session to make sure she didn’t mistreat Kon. “By all means,” Valerie said.
She was good, very good, utterly professional and able to explore and exploit his limits but go no further. By the end of the session, Kon floated high on endorphins, and Dane admitted it had been a long time since his demon had fed so well simply by watching.
But the next night when Kon and Valerie were alone, it became clear she wanted him for reasons besides having a good time. Just as she’d finished stripping him and cuffing him to a bench, her demeanor turned cool and calculating. “Is it true you’re a cambion?”
The question filled him with dread. The fact that he’d had his demon removed was no secret, but it was never a good sign when a partner fixated on it. “Not anymore.”
“What a pity. I’ve always enjoyed the way they have far greater sexual endurance than normal men.” She ran her fingers along his bare belly, making goose bumps rise on his flesh. “I thought you might have a similar endurance.”
Her cold, scientific interest, all too evident to his Sensitivity, caused unease to gather in his belly. She wasn’t someone who’d learned to mask her thoughts from him, and he didn’t care for the side she’d hidden from him the night before. “I don’t think—”
She placed a finger over his lips. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’m going to take you to a place you’ve never been.”
Before Kon could protest, she worked a ball gag into his mouth and wrapped a blindfold around his eyes. Worse, she added a pair of earplugs to deprive him of yet another sense. All he was left with was touch, his Sensitivity, and her twisted obsession in seeing how much his scientifically manipulated body could take.
His looks had often caused others to underestimate his masculinity, but she didn’t see him as either male or female. He was a thing, a creature to play with for her own amusement. Accessories that were delicious when Dane used them—ropes, clamps, floggers�
��turned brutal under Valerie’s hands. She whipped him with no care as to his comfort, only to see how many blows she could deliver before he either fainted or lost his erection. On the times she removed the earplugs her cooing praise filled him with shame and made him a victim rather than a willing participant. Dane had never humiliated him, but Valerie had no compunction in doing so.
The physical pain he could cope with. He’d had a lot of practice. Being so aware of her pleasure, her satisfaction when she straddled him and rode his exhausted, immobilized body sickened and revolted him.
She did take him to a place he’d never been—past his breaking point. He floated in a netherworld of pain and madness, barely aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks.
By the time she released him, his throat was raw and burning from bile. The lightest touch burned as if she held a lit match to his skin. For hours afterward, he hadn’t been able to move. He’d lain curled on the bench, trembling, hating himself for being such a fool.
* * * *
Fresh tears slid down Kon’s cheeks as he buried his head in Dane’s shoulder. He didn’t remember much of the immediate aftermath, only Dane’s arms wrapped around him and the horrible fear of anyone else touching him.
“I was terrified when you didn’t come back. I went to her room, and she was gone, bags packed and everything. And when I saw how she’d just left you… I was so angry, I could have killed her.” He tangled his fingers in Kon’s hair and rubbed his head as if he were a small child. “Doc couldn’t even touch you. I had to sedate you so she could take care of you. And afterward, you wouldn’t talk. I didn’t push because I didn’t want to hurt you more, but, damn, it was all I could do not to order you to tell me.”
Kon didn’t think he could have talked. Not then, anyway. Not even when Doc had told him that on her recommendation Valerie had been thrown out of the Wardens and forbidden from taking any clients.
“It’s not your fault,” Dane said.
He knew that. Every Warden went through training on sexual ethics and the psychological implications of sessions gone bad. Kon, like so many others, had figured he’d be able to handle it, and he was wrong. “It’s not yours either.”