Gelan wheezed desperately, his eyes wide as they met Wynhod’s triumphant gaze. The Nobek chuckled between gasping to catch his breath, rubbing his throbbing crotch against Gelan’s ass. “I look forward to my reward, Dramok,” he whispered in Gelan’s ear.
Gelan’s eyes were rolling a little now, his struggles already fading. He had definitely neglected his training. Wynhod hooked a leg to still its kicking, his calf finding that though the Dramok was going out, his cocks were raging hard.
Wynhod had forgotten that little oddity about his former lover. Most Dramoks hated to be dominated. Of all the breeds, theirs was the most alpha. Some found no pleasure at all in surrendering, at least not without the intoxicating bite. Gelan, however, had always been agreeable to being topped, as long as it was by someone who had earned the right in a fight. He was much like a Nobek in that respect.
Wynhod grinned, his head full of evil intentions. He loosened his hold, certain of victory. Now that he could look forward to the tight warmth of the other man’s ass—
He never got to finish his thought. Gelan, who had nearly fallen limp in his grip, suddenly turned his head sharply to one side, so that his face pressed against Wynhod’s bicep. An instant later, Wynhod felt the twin stings of Gelan’s fangs stabbing into his flesh.
“Son of a bitch!” the Nobek cursed, tightening his hold again in the hope of knocking the Dramok out before the venom could take effect. Gelan did nothing to try and loosen Wynhod’s choke; in fact, he clutched the arm tight as if to make sure Wynhod couldn’t get away. His grip was stronger than it should have been given that Gelan had appeared to be on the brink of passing out only a moment before.
Wynhod suddenly realized Gelan had only been pretending to lose consciousness. He’d been playing Wynhod, giving him a false sense of victory.
The first curls of pleasure wafted into the Nobek’s brain. He snarled against the hypnotic entrancement, tightening his grip on Gelan harder still. Yet his opponent hung on stubbornly, the intoxicant pumping into Wynhod’s body, being fed to his senses through the fast work of his hammering heart.
Wynhod knew he was in trouble. He released Gelan and tried to shove him away. The Dramok fought back, working to pin him in place, still with his fangs embedded in Wynhod’s arm.
Wynhod punched the side of Gelan’s head. At last the bite withdrew. Wynhod started to lurch to his feet, but Gelan knocked him onto his back. The Dramok’s arms wrapped tight around him, pinning Wynhod’s arms to his sides. Lightning fast, Gelan’s head darted down, and his fangs found the side of the Nobek’s neck.
Wynhod screamed his rage to be bitten again. He was already falling into that pleasurable haze that would end with an insurmountable need to please his conqueror. He kicked hard, lashing out to hurt. Failing that, he tried to get his legs under him so he could escape. Gelan simply moved with him, taking the blows and hanging tight to keep Wynhod in his grasp.
And all the time, venom flowed into Wynhod’s veins, making it more and more difficult to struggle until the Nobek couldn’t quite remember why he should want to get away. The body on his turned from that of an opponent to something warm and strong and comforting. The Nobek’s desperate grappling faded and turned to rubbing against that strong frame as much as Gelan’s grip on him would allow. Pleasure swirled low in his loins, making his twin cocks throb with insistent need. He ached for the man now pulling free of his throat to lick the pinprick bites. The raspy feel of Gelan’s tongue against his skin made Wynhod’s eyes roll back with bliss.
“Ah,” he breathed, arching against the Dramok.
Gelan chuckled and leaned back to gaze into Wynhod’s face. “Thought you had me, didn’t you?” he asked.
The Nobek looked into that nobly handsome face with its smiling mouth. He’d give anything to kiss those lips, curved in anticipatory pleasure. “I thought you went down kind of fast. I wondered if you had neglected endurance exercises.” Wynhod found a frown despite the persistent arousal and euphoria muddying his senses. “You still should not have been so ready to fight when I let you go.”
“I hyperventilated on purpose. It flooded my blood with extra oxygen, allowing me to withstand your choke better.”
Wynhod remembered the rapid breathing Gelan had been doing, and how it had fooled him into thinking maybe the Dramok would fall easily. He blinked in slow realization. “But that would mean you planned for me to choke you all along—”
Wynhod’s mouth dropped open. He had been played from the start of the fight, and played well.
“You manipulative bastard,” he said with appreciation. He grinned, impressed with Gelan’s ruse.
Gelan grinned back. “I’m so glad you approve.” He looked Wynhod up and down, and the spicy scent of Kalquorian male arousal suddenly became very strong. “Now, Nobek, let’s see if you feel as good as I remember.”
He leaned down, his dark eyes on Wynhod’s face as his mouth neared. The Nobek’s mouth opened to receive the victor’s kiss as he tilted his head for it. Gelan’s lips sealed over his, and his tongue reached deep to stroke Wynhod’s. The enforcer moaned as Gelan plundered his mouth. The flavor was a complicated blend of the evening’s meal, alcohol, and triumphant male. Wynhod gave himself over to the delicious kiss, perfectly at ease with surrendering to the man who had fairly beaten him with both power and strategy.
Gelan broke the kiss, his lids halfway hooding his eyes with pleasure. He rose up so he sat on top Wynhod’s hips. His ass rubbed up against Wynhod’s swollen cocks as he moved, making the Nobek writhe beneath him. By the ancestors, he wanted to be inside there. However, he’d lost the fight, so he would have to bide his time before that would happen.
Soon, he promised himself. Maybe even later tonight.
Gelan chuckled as if discerning where Wynhod’s mind was. He wriggled his ass a little, making Wynhod choke with a surge of lust. “Want me?”
“You hateful shit.” Wynhod lunged upward.
“Back down,” Gelan snarled. “And lay still.”
Just like that, Wynhod slammed himself to the floor. The intoxicating venom that Gelan had sent into his bloodstream rendered Kalquorians unable to resist orders. In fact, it made them eager to please their conquerors. Wynhod was no exception. The instant Gelan commanded him, every thought of resistance flew from his brain.
Wynhod lay beneath the Dramok, his cocks aching and miserable with need. He couldn’t move as Gelan opened the seam of his torn formsuit at the collar, parting it to expose Wynhod’s chest and abdomen.
Gelan made a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a groan. “Damn it, Wynhod. Look at you.”
His big, warm hands slid all over the Nobek’s skin, tracing the curved expanse of his chest and the hilly terrain of his abdomen. Wynhod gasped to feel that calloused touch drinking him in. He could only twitch in reaction however; Gelan’s order to lie still burned in his skull, holding him immobile.
The Dramok leaned down, his wet lips parted. This time they found Wynhod’s collarbone where it met his shoulder. Gelan kissed and licked his way to the hollow of the Nobek’s throat, his lips a soft counterpoint to the coarser surface of his tongue. Wynhod’s breaths shuddered as Gelan continued his eager path to the other shoulder. Then he reversed course, moving back to the well of the Nobek’s throat once more.
From there, Gelan moved down. When his mouth closed on Wynhod’s nipple, a bolt of superheated lightning shot straight down to the Nobek’s engorged pricks. He shouted.
“Still very sensitive, I see,” Gelan chuckled. “As if I would forget.”
Wynhod could only groan. He was in trouble now, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Until the venom wore off or Gelan countermanded his order to remain motionless, the Nobek was forced to endure the coming torture.
Gelan’s purple eyes were almost hidden behind the bottomless black of their pupils. He watched Wynhod’s face as his tongue slowly emerged from between his lips. The tip of it closed in on the pebble of Wynhod’s nipple. War
m breath wafted over the vulnerable disk of dark brown as Gelan’s tongue ventured ever closer … almost there.
Contact. A slow lick that transmitted straight to the Nobek’s dicks, feeling like something deep inside had delivered a gentle kick to his groin. Wynhod cried out.
Gelan’s mouth covered his nipple. He rubbed the softly abrasive surface of his tongue all over the eager flesh, sucking at the same time. Heat roiled low in Wynhod’s groin as he fought to escape the hold the other man had on him. The ecstasy was driving him insane. He needed to throw Gelan to the floor, he needed to rip the bottom of his formsuit off, he needed to bury his throbbing primary dick in the other man’s ass.
Lay still. He couldn’t break free of those two little words.
“Gelan!” he bellowed in desperation.
Laughter met the cry. “Oh, I do love hearing you scream my name.”
Wynhod snarled at the grinning face. “I do not scream. I yell.”
Gelan snickered. “Sure you do. Whatever soothes your mighty Nobek heart, my friend.”
Wynhod started to growl, pouring as much ferocity as he could in the sound. He choked on his attempt at aggression when Gelan seized his other nipple in his mouth.
The bastard continued to laugh at him as he licked and nipped the taut bit of flesh. Wynhod tried to halt his strangled cries and couldn’t. It felt too damned good. He would kill Gelan as soon as he got free again. But first he would fuck the Dramok until he screamed.
For now, however, Wynhod was trapped. To make things worse, Gelan headed down his body, that wicked mouth leaving a hot, wet trail as he licked lower and lower. He treated the Nobek to little darts of pain by biting, pinching, and scratching, leaving livid red welts along the way. Wynhod gasped under the twin delights of pain mixing with pleasure. Damn, Gelan hadn’t forgotten a thing when it came to handling him. If anything, his former lover had become more accomplished in the years since their last meeting.
Like most Nobeks, Wynhod liked pain. He liked dealing it out and having it dealt to him. It made him feel acutely alive. Mixing it with sex was a heady aphrodisiac. Gelan’s rough treatment had his cocks throbbing. Hell, they were more than throbbing; they jerked with each and every sting. No, Gelan hadn’t forgotten one damned thing.
Wynhod couldn’t wait to show him how he hadn’t forgotten anything either.
The Dramok rose up, leering down at him with a satisfied smirk. His grin was downright hateful as he said, “I know that look, Nobek. You’re so cute when you’re plotting revenge.”
Wynhod’s angry yell echoed off the featureless walls. “I am not cute!”
Gelan yanked on one of Wynhod’s boots, pulling it free. “Adorable. Cuddly. Endearing.” He tossed the boot over his shoulder and grinned.
Wynhod snarled, showing his fangs. “You. Will. Bleed.”
“Promise?” Gelan pulled off the Nobek’s other boot. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Wynhod’s formsuit and yanked until he lay there naked.
The enforcer’s cocks pointed straight up, as if accusing the ceiling of some heinous crime. The primary one was the largest, glistening with Wynhod’s natural lubrication. The circumference was broad at the base, tapering to a point at the tip. A pearlescent drop had formed already, showing his body’s eagerness.
It was Gelan’s turn to growl as he looked his naked victim over. “Damn. Fuck me raw.”
“I’d be glad to. Release me.”
The Dramok snorted. “I don’t think so. You’re the one getting fucked.”
His hands rubbed up and down Wynhod’s muscled thighs as he spoke, his gaze centered on Wynhod’s pricks almost as if hypnotized. The Nobek felt a surge of pride to be looked at with such blatant lust. Even when young and under the influence of sometimes wild hormonal urges, Gelan hadn’t been one to get excited over just anyone. He only satisfied his carnal appetites with men he trusted and respected.
“Damn,” he groaned again. “You look better than ever.”
“Show me,” Wynhod invited.
Gelan gave him a crooked grin. “You first. Hold yourself open for me.”
Wynhod’s knees were bent and his hands on the back of them, spreading his thighs wide before he consciously thought about it. He roared at the Dramok for making him assume such a demeaning posture.
“You bastard! I am going to hurt you worse than you’ve ever known for this!”
Gelan’s tone told Wynhod how unimpressed he was with the threat. “Yeah, yeah. Bleeding, pain, screaming … I got it. But for now, you’re mine in any way I wish.”
He crouched low, and Wynhod tensed. All thoughts of retribution fled his mind as Gelan’s mouth neared the Nobek’s livid groin.
His mouth enclosed the very tip of the smaller cock that jutted up beneath the other one. There was heat and wetness and delicious pressure against the sensitive flesh. Something deep inside jolted Wynhod with a burst of electricity. Then Gelan’s rough silk tongue dragged over the top of the Nobek’s smaller member. Heat sizzled from the point of contact down to the base, where it welled thick and heavy between his two cocks.
Wynhod’s groan came all the way from his curling toes. His primary dick, the one with the opening, spat pre-cum.
“Good?” Gelan asked. Without waiting for an answer, he licked Wynhod’s secondary cock from base to end.
The Nobek’s breath exploded from his lungs as near-painful ecstasy fumed violently in his loins. He gripped the backs of his legs hard enough to bruise himself. More pre-cum dribbled from his cock as the pressure grew.
“Fuck!”
Gelan chuckled. “You really should relax, you know.” He licked again, and Wynhod fought against the command holding him still, trying to writhe against the agonizing pleasure filling his gut. “Take your time.” Licking again. Wynhod howled delicious misery. “Enjoy the ride.”
The Nobek couldn’t think straight. Gelan’s gently abrasive tongue erased every lucid thought from his head, leaving only that command to lie still and a violent urge to climax. But he needed more to grab that elusive release. A lot more.
A tight fist closed over the base of Wynhod’s front cock. Yes, yes, that was what he wanted. Gelan could stroke him to completion, allow that crazed need to escape so Wynhod could recover his senses. He panted, willing that hand to move up and down his cock.
Instead, the grip squeezed, damming up the pressure that built all the more demandingly. Wynhod stared at the Dramok kneeling between his bent legs. The mocking smile told him everything. Gelan was nowhere near finished with teasing him.
“You monstrous bastard,” the Nobek groaned with feeling. “You won’t be happy until I go insane.”
“Would you be treating me any differently if our positions were reversed?” Gelan asked.
Despite the agony of his lover choking off Wynhod’s desperate need for orgasm, he managed to laugh. “Of course not. Except you’d be crying like an Imdiko right now if I was in control.”
Gelan snorted. “I don’t cry. You’ll suffer even more for having suggested such a thing. Remember, don’t move.”
Before Wynhod could acknowledge the dread that came from hearing those words, Gelan’s mouth went to work again. This time, he went down on Wynhod’s primary cock while stroking the smaller one hard and fast.
Wynhod bellowed. Violent lust thudded at the base of his cocks, fed by the unrelenting hand pumping his secondary organ and the hot, wet mouth bobbing and sucking on the larger one. Gelan’s rough tongue rubbed hard against the vein pounding on the underside of Wynhod’s prick. Bloodcurdling ecstasy throbbed through the Nobek’s loins, demanding release. Gelan’s constricting fist allowed no such thing, keeping him in an agonized thrall. And Wynhod could do nothing but hold himself open for the abuse.
Even Wynhod’s delight in receiving erotic torture was tested in the next few minutes. He quaked violently under the assault, alternating between choked sounds that resembled sobs and roars of furious demand. Not one sane thought crossed his mind as Gelan enthusiastic
ally mouthed one cock and rubbed the other. All he knew were the brutal demands of his body, the downright painful need to climax, the frantic urge to escape his tormentor and not being able to. He was reduced to the animal that dwelt behind his civilized face, a beast that tried to mindlessly flail against the trap that held it as it endured unceasing, delicious anguish.
Wynhod’s throat was nearly raw from his cries when the mouth at last released him. The Nobek saw the man between his legs rise and consider him for a moment.
“Pure feral need,” his tormentor exulted. “By the ancestors, I missed seeing that face.”
Wynhod growled and showed his fangs. The other man showed his back. Still holding the Nobek’s primary cock so that the he couldn’t come, Gelan leaned over him.
“Now that my domination over you is firmly established, what do you say we fuck?”
Wynhod couldn’t make much sense of what Gelan was saying. However, the lust in his tone made him think that the awful pressure in his gut might finally be eased soon. He just had to play along for a little while longer.
Still keeping his terrible grip on Wynhod’s cock, Gelan used his other hand to position himself. Something thick and feverishly hot nudged the Nobek’s anus.
“Knowing how much you like pain, I’m not going to prepare you. You’ll take me while you’re still tight.”
The words were still mostly meaningless noise. It didn’t matter. Wynhod knew what was about to happen and welcomed it. When the other man was fulfilled, then he would be allowed release too. That was how this game had always gone. He knew the rules.
Wynhod pushed against the pressure against his ass, opening himself to its invasion. With a long groan, Gelan accepted his invitation and slid inside.
The ache was burning and immediate. Wynhod hissed, letting the sensation mix with the angry arousal fighting to get past the barrier of Gelan’s fist. He unleashed a guttural snarl, at once accepting and warning.
Gelan snarled back. He was alpha. He had won the right to dominate. Wynhod responded by lifting his chin and offering his throat.
Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) Page 7