Authors: Tracy St. John
“I don’t think he gave a damn about
being Yuder and Zarl’s Imdiko, or even about being emperor someday.
I think it just pissed him off that I would outrank him,” Egilka
mused. That the announcement had come so soon after Egilka had won
the top award in research science over four other nominees – one of
whom had been Wej – had added fuel to his father’s
jealousy.
“Now he stays in his laboratory,
terrorizing his research team and keeping the rest of the world at
bay,” Clajak said. “A lonely man without a friend in the world.
That is your future if you don’t loosen up, Egilka.”
The Imdiko gave Clajak a dark look. “I
am nothing like Wej, not even remotely. Fuck you.”
“Oh yes, please.”
Clajak’s grinning face, which had
hovered so close to Egilka’s during their conversation, came even
closer. He pushed aside his rug, leaving his hands free to stroke
the Imdiko’s face before dotting Egilka’s cheeks with childish
kisses.
“Come on, grumpy biologist. Isolated
lab hermit. Imdiko Duty-Before-Fun.” Clajak’s wet smacks grew
louder and more ridiculous. He landed one on Egilka’s lips. The
Imdiko tasted leshella and fruit and Clajak. It was
delicious.
Meanwhile, the Dramok’s hands plucked
at the rug Egilka kept gathered about his body, trying to get
inside to touch. Pretending he didn’t want the brat prince’s
attentions, Egilka resisted. He squirmed, curling his body tight
lest Clajak discover how turned on he was.
Twisting his face away from the darting
smooches Clajak insisted on giving him, Egilka muttered, “Stop,
damn it. What makes you think I have the least interest in screwing
after what you’ve put me through?”
“What, you’re not drunk enough yet?
That must be low quality leshella. I will lodge a complaint with
the Vintner Guild on Plasius.”
Using his greater weight and strength,
Clajak pressed hard against Egilka, knocking the Imdiko over so
that he sprawled flat against the padded floor. In an instant
Clajak was on top of him, flinging the rug open and running his
hands all over Egilka’s body. It took the Dramok no time to
discover Egilka was hard.
“Got you,” Clajak sneered, his hand
rubbing the thickening bulge of Egilka’s crotch. The Imdiko cried
out, arching and shoving his groin into the prince’s grip. A wash
of lust took every thought of resisting away.
Clajak rubbed the straining lengths
fighting to get free of Egilka’s trousers. Egilka moaned, his hips
rising and falling in tandem with the Dramok’s rhythmic massage. He
grabbed the broad shoulders of the man who made him crazy in more
ways than he could count.
Clajak smiled down at him, too stunning
to be denied even if his hand hadn’t been driving Egilka into a
frenzy. “So sweet, lovely Imdiko. Yes, you are sweet. And happy to
have me touching you. That’s better. Much better.”
Egilka knew he was lost. Clajak had him
by the dicks, and not just in a literal fashion. No matter how much
danger the man had put him in or what other trouble Clajak would no
doubt find in the future, Egilka belonged to him. It was a
realization that brought equal parts happiness and
terror.
The only thing the Imdiko could come up
with to say about the matter was, “Asshole.”
Clajak’s grin was as bright as if
Egilka had proclaimed everlasting love. “Is that your offer?
Because I’ll be happy to take it.”
He squeezed Egilka’s cocks. The
pressure was sheer heaven, and Egilka’s will crumbled to
dust.
He groaned, “You crazy, irresponsible,
irredeemable jerk. Won’t someone save me from you?”
Clajak laughed. “Come on, Egilka. Just
say to hell with it and let me fuck you.”
He gave another squeeze. Egilka felt
molten pleasure surge and gave himself over. “Fine. To hell with
it, you gorgeous shit. Fuck me.”
The words no sooner left his lips when
Clajak descended upon him, lying full length along Egilka’s body.
The Dramok’s mouth sealed over the other man’s, kissing Egilka as
if he’d devour him. He pinned his wrists to the floor, denying
Egilka the ability to resist ... though no such urge presented
itself. Clajak moved his hips, rubbing his avid crotch over the
Imdiko’s, humping him in a slow, sensual dance. The friction moved
the fabric of Egilka’s trousers over his members, massaging him
steadily. The Imdiko rocked in response, seeking more of the
exquisite contact. His legs rose to wrap themselves around Clajak’s
perfect round ass, drawing the Dramok harder against him. Their
clothing rasped as they rubbed wantonly against each
other.
Clajak broke the kiss to stare into
Egilka’s eyes. Egilka stared back, noting every detail of the
Dramok’s face. Those high cheekbones. He’d never noticed how they
were a broader, more masculine version of Yuder’s. The rest of his
face was all Clajak though, showing little resemblance to either
biological parent. The prince’s looks hearkened to an earlier
ancestor.
His wide forehead, with molten steel
strands of hair falling over it. The strong brows set over wide
purple eyes. The straight-as-an-arrow nose, repaired multiple times
from more fights than Egilka cared to know about – though he had
been one of those who’d broken it. The square jaw shadowed with a
light sprinkling of a day’s growth of beard, little flecks of
silvery sheened stubble. The strong chin over which plump, sensual
lips offered a sly smile, bracketing by fine laugh
lines.
Clajak was all male without being
brutish, handsome without a trace of delicacy. His features had
struck the perfect balance of masculine allure. Egilka could hardly
breathe as he took in his promised clanmate.
“How have I not seen you before?”
Egilka wondered out loud.
The question deepened Clajak’s smile.
“Because to you, I have always been the boy getting yelled at by
his fathers and managed by his mother. The youngster underfoot at
the worst possible time. A responsibility to be guided away from
his worst instincts.”
Egilka winced. Clajak often had been
more a duty than a person to him. “I’m sorry.”
The prince brushed a soft kiss on his
lips. “Don’t be. You were a man. I was not. It must be hard to
change from a guardian to a lover.”
Egilka searched the face hovering over
his again. He felt the powerful body blanketing him, the rigid
lengths pressing against his. “Not that hard. Not looking at you
now.”
To his dismay, Clajak released him and
rose. He shifted so that he knelt, his ass resting on Egilka’s
thighs. Egilka’s disappointment fled before the prince’s hungry
gaze, which swept over his prone body.
“I’d like to do some looking myself,”
Clajak said. “Most of our encounters have been somewhat rushed. I
want to take a good, long examination of what I’ve been fantasizing
about all these years.”
Egilka swallowed, his breath stolen
away again by that demanding heated stare. It was several beats
before he was able to speak. “You keep saying that, but I never
noticed. Have you really desired me that much?”
He had seventeen years on Clajak. Yet
Egilka felt like the inexperienced youth right now, a blushing
teenager having his first romance. Excited. Nervous. Needing. He
could barely keep from squirming with Clajak looking down on
him.
Clajak’s expression was naked want.
“Every man I’ve ever been with, I compared to you. Or at least my
dreams of you. I’ve lost count of the encounters I had, and many of
them were satisfying. But in the end, I was always a little
disappointed because none of them were with the man I
craved.”
Egilka’s gut tightened. “That’s a lot
to live up to, Clajak. Despite being older, I don’t have that kind
of experience. I’m bound to let you down.”
“No.” Clajak shook his head, his eyes
never leaving Egilka’s. “Not possible. It’s not just sex, Egilka.
It’s you. Being with you. That’s what has been missing with
everyone else. They weren’t you, and you were all that I
wanted.”
Hearing that raw declaration made
Egilka’s throat close. How must it have been for Clajak to love
someone, someone who never truly saw him? How had the Imdiko missed
that yearning?
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t
know and I should have.”
“I hid it,” Clajak said. He barked a
harsh laugh. “Apparently, much too well. But you know now, and you
finally recognize me. I think we should work to make up for time
lost.”
Egilka eyed the man sitting on top of
him. He’d studied the face and now it was the body he turned his
attention to. Clajak’s formsuit was in the way, but it still molded
like a second skin to his wide shoulders, brawny chest, and slim
waist. His crotch was a swollen bulge, the two cocks outlined
against the stretchy black fabric. The scent of arousal hung heavy
in the air, and Egilka swallowed. He wanted a mouthful of crown
prince in the worst way.
“I would be more than happy to make up
for the time and everything else,” he said.
“Good,” Clajak said. “Let’s start with
you laying there nice and quiet while I undress you.”
“How about we both get undressed?”
Egilka suggested, reaching for Clajak.
He yipped when the Dramok gave his
eager hands sharp, stinging swats. “You will do as I tell you or I
will bite you and leave you with no choice,” Clajak warned. “I have
waited a long time for this, my Imdiko. Stay still.”
Egilka felt a surge of passion at the
prince’s threat. When Clajak acted the demanding Dramok, he was
sexy as hell. That air of command sent a thrill chasing up and down
Egilka’s spine. Heat poured into his cocks, making them twitch and
fill.
Clajak didn’t miss the Imdiko’s
reaction. He grinned with undisguised delight. “Oh, you like
someone who takes control.”
“Not always,” Egilka shot back. That
was true. However, Clajak had something about him that made the
Imdiko want to surrender in all ways. His head swam with the
notion.
“Is that so? You’ll like it with me. I
do very well with putting stubborn Imdikos in their place.” The
prince grabbed Egilka’s wrists and placed them on either side of
his head. “You stay like that unless I say otherwise. If you move,
I’ll turn you over and spank you like a naughty child.”
Another surge of excitement jerked
Egilka’s cocks. It surprised him to get a thrill out of the threat
of being spanked. He’d never been much into discipline play
before.
The watchful Clajak caught his
response. “You’d like me to spank you? Do you want my hard hand
blistering your perfect round ass, Imdiko? Turning it red, making
it burn? Because I would enjoy putting my handprints on
you.”
“I – I – maybe?” Egilka gasped. His
cocks strained at the seam of his trousers, threatening to break
through.
Clajak laughed, the sound evil. “Try
definitely. Oh Egilka, it will be my pleasure to have you lay
yourself across my lap, trembling as you offer your naked ass to me
for punishment. I will delight in seeing you dance under my
hand.”
Desire rippled through Egilka’s cocks.
He shuddered as he visualized the scene Clajak described. His
breath came in quick, short pants.
Clajak’s eyes darkened as he watched
the effect his words had on the Imdiko. His expression turned
primitive, growing more dangerous. It was just as well he’d ordered
Egilka not to move. The Imdiko felt trapped, frozen beneath that
feral stare.
A growl slipped from the prince’s
throat. “Now let’s see what I’ve been denied for far too
long.”
His hands gripped Egilka’s collar. The
Imdiko expected Clajak to rip his shirt from his torso, to tear his
clothing to shreds like a ravening animal. The Dramok looked savage
enough to do so. The strength drained from Egilka’s body, leaving
him helpless against the attack that was coming.
Instead, Clajak tugged lightly on the
seam that ran from collar to the shirt’s hem, parting it with slow
care. It purred open, baring the center of Egilka’s chest and
abdomen. Clajak drew the edges aside, exposing the length of the
Imdiko’s torso.
Clajak sighed. “Look at you. Even with
the bruising those bastard Tragooms gave you, you have such a
graceful physique. Long, lean lines, built for agility instead of
power. You are beautiful. The Mother of All put her very best into
you, my Imdiko.”
Egilka looked down at himself, trying
to see what Clajak described. His lithe frame was well toned with a
defined chest and intriguing ripples down his stomach. Here and
there, dark splotches showed where the Tragoom had kicked him. He
supposed that despite the bruises he was attractive enough. Yet he
had none of the power that Clajak’s body suggested.
“I prefer your build,” he said, eyeing
the formsuit-clad physique of his companion.
Clajak waved him off, though his gaze
never left its examination of Egilka. “My build is average for our
kind. You however ... you are a work of art. You make me think of
Meclio’s sculptures.”
Egilka was reminded of
Clajak’s passion for art. The prince had begun collecting pieces
for his own private gallery. He also supported fine art and its
study, having recently donated his favorite statue
The Young Clanmates
to
Kalquor’s most celebrated art museum. It had been carved by the
renowned Kalquorian sculptor Meclio over a hundred years before.
The piece had been lost for several decades, stolen from the
Empire. Clajak had chanced upon it during one of his many
adventures, restoring it to Kalquor.