Authors: Tracy St. John
Clajak’s tongue parried his, pushing
for entrance into Bevau’s mouth. They battled for dominance as they
usually did. Clajak’s Dramok nature made him try to best Bevau even
though the high commander was trained to win ... or die trying.
There was a lot of laughter as they both attempted to take command
over something even as small as a kiss.
Clajak tasted like lust. Feeling that
half naked body against him, knowing the other half was probably
just as naked beneath the sheet, made excitement swirl in Bevau’s
belly. He desired this man and his clanmate like no
others.
Bevau pulled back, breaking the kiss.
Pride filled him to see how Clajak’s eyes had glazed over. Surely
that wasn’t just the Nobek’s arousal scent filling the
air.
Clajak gave him a dark look. “Why did
you stop? Don’t start what you can’t finish. Tidro is the Empire’s
best at making someone feel guilty for his misdeeds.”
“Misdeeds? What have I done wrong, my
prince?”
“You have excited the emperor’s
precious son when he should be resting. Look at me. How am I
supposed to relax like this? I should call for my father now and
show him what you’ve done to me.”
Bevau took a moment to admire the
swollen cocks tenting Clajak’s sheet before giving him a shove.
“You’re not sick, not by a mile. Besides, your father has gone down
to the kitchen to fix his little baby boy’s lunch. Poor, poor
youngling prince.”
Bevau fussed over Clajak, cooing as if
the other man was an infant. Clajak swatted at him but grinned.
“Tidro’s not here, huh? Well then, I should take full advantage of
the situation.”
Bevau had been misled by Clajak’s
playful, downright goofy smile. He was not prepared as he should
have been for the prince’s bite. Clajak struck like lightning,
burying his fangs through Bevau’s formsuit where the Nobek’s
shoulder met his neck.
Bevau’s anger returned in full force,
but not at the man burrowed tight against him. This time the Nobek
was furious at himself for having been caught unawares by the
irascible Dramok.
“You hateful shit! Who do you think you
are?”
Clajak didn’t answer, fighting to get
his arms around Bevau, trying to pin the soldier’s arms to his
sides. Bevau managed to keep that from happening, but he couldn’t
get Clajak off him either. The first tendrils of relaxation already
seeped into his mind and body.
Bevau had one defense. He grabbed
Clajak’s arm and pulled it to his mouth. His fangs bit into the
other man’s wrist.
Clajak released his bite with a yell.
“Hey! Get off me, you son of a bitch.”
They grappled, rolling around the
sleeping mat, each trying to get the upper hand. Clajak bit Bevau
again, this time in the shoulder. Bevau kept his teeth dug into the
Dramok’s arm, groping at his erect cocks at the same time. Clajak
yanked the soldier’s crotch seam open and took his own handful of
prick. They bit and stroked each other, their growls turning to
excited moans.
Bevau’s senses reeled. He had no desire
to hurt Clajak. Even overpowering him had lost its luster. Besides,
he had sent enough venom into the prince to not need physical power
against him. The Nobek only needed to gather the ragged wisps of
his thoughts and tell Clajak who was in charge.
He released his bite. As if reading
Bevau’s mind, Clajak’s fangs slid out of his flesh at the same
moment.
Bevau stared at Clajak. For a moment,
time stood still. Before him, staring back with glassy eyes, sat a
handsome man with hair the color of molten steel. That amazing hair
framed a square-jawed face, masculine and riveting. His body was
defined, delicious. The warmth coming off all that bared skin
enveloped the Nobek. The prince’s scent enfolded him. The aroma was
as intoxicating as the venom he’d pumped in his veins.
It was a single moment of bemused
contemplation. As Bevau so often told his squads, it only took a
moment to lose a fight. A moment for Clajak to speak
first.
“You will give yourself to me. You will
surrender to being fucked.”
“Shit!” Bevau swore. His intoxicated
mind tried to fight the words, but Clajak’s command sank into his
skull and dug in as if mere speech had claws to rip into brain
meat. His body lost all ability to resist.
There was no escaping the domination to
come. Bevau had only one way to counter.
“You’ll offer your ass to me as well.
Anything I wish, you will give.”
Just as Clajak’s intoxicant subjugated
the Nobek’s will, Bevau returned the favor. Clajak snarled as he
felt his powerlessness against the order.
He had another response. “I get to go
first. Undress. Then lay back and hold yourself open for
me.”
Bevau’s body responded before he could
think once about it. He rolled to the edge of the bed and yanked
his boots off. “Damn it!”
Clajak laid back against the pillows,
triumph etched on his face. His cocks stood straight up from his
groin. Even as Bevau yanked angrily at his uniform’s seams, he
couldn’t help but ogle the prince’s erections, hard for him. He
loved that he excited Clajak so much.
With that in mind, the Nobek slowed his
undressing. He peeled his formsuit away from his body, moving in
such a way as to make muscles bunch and undulate. The sinuous
spectacle made Clajak’s eyes widen, his tongue peek out to wet his
lips. The Dramok’s cocks gave a jerk.
His gaze traveled up and down Bevau’s
body as it came into view. The prince’s expression was all want and
need. Bevau’s swollen shafts twitched at the sight of Clajak’s
smugness fleeing before that wash of yearning.
The Nobek thought it was too bad he
couldn’t bask in that unabashed desire. His venom-soaked brain was
still intent on following orders, however. Now naked, he fell to
his back on the sleeping mat next to Clajak and gripped the backs
of his knees, holding them wide open.
Clajak sighed. “Oh, look at you, you
perfect man. Just when I think I’m used to how gorgeous you are,
you remind me that I’m not.”
With that, he leaned over Bevau to kiss
him. This time they didn’t fight for dominance. This time they
worked together, their tongues twining, stroking, making love.
Bevau sucked Clajak’s tongue deep into his mouth. When Clajak
returned the favor, the Nobek went with him quite readily. They
tasted each other, each man drinking the other in.
Bevau’s cocks grew heavier with
agreeable arousal, laying weightily on his belly. He had admitted
to himself how much he liked being in this man’s bed, with Clajak
and his Imdiko. Moreover, he liked being around the pair even when
sex wasn’t involved. If they’d been any other people rather than
the Crown Princes, he’d have begged them to clan him.
Bevau had long come to terms with his
dual nature. He had proven to himself many times over that he was
as fierce and strong as any full-fledged Nobek. He was fine with
proving his worth to other Nobeks through fighting ... in fact, he
enjoyed it. He had gotten past wishing he had no Imdiko tendencies
years ago.
Yet he found himself wishing right now
that he was pure Nobek, if only to become Clajak and Egilka’s
third. That he was jealous of the mere idea of them being with
another Nobek told Bevau he’d grown to care for the two
men.
When Clajak broke the kiss and stared
down at him, Bevau knew his expression was every bit as soft and
caring as the Dramok’s.
Stupid non-Nobek feelings.
Clajak blinked. Bevau could see more
rational thoughts coming back into his lover’s head as the urges of
a fully-functioning libido asserted themselves.
The Dramok grinned. “Damned bite. Here
you are, offering this gorgeous ass, and I’m lost in that perfect
face. Are you trying to hypnotize me until my venom wears off on
you?”
“Was it working? I must perfect that
talent,” Bevau said.
“Not today you don’t,” Clajak said.
“Not before I enjoy my favorite Nobek in the Empire.”
He scrambled to the sleeping mat’s side
table, opening a drawer. He drew out an inflatable dildo and lube.
Bevau groaned to see the items, but a part of him looked forward to
the coming play. The Nobek didn’t despise submitting, not like
Clajak. He just preferred for anyone topping him to deserve the
honor.
Clajak had won this round fair and
square. With nothing to do but obey the prince’s every command,
Bevau settled in, ready to enjoy the rewards of losing.
Clajak was not a man who took his own
pleasure in a hurry. True, he didn’t dawdle this time. It was never
for certain how long the intoxicant would hold sway over a victim
of a Kalquorian’s bite. Any number of things could affect the venom
and its potency; diet and the health of its carrier, among other
variables. Bevau might be under its influence for an hour or only a
few minutes.
Despite that, Clajak made sure the
Nobek gasped with eager need before fucking him. If an inch of
Bevau’s face and torso wasn’t kissed, licked, and stroked, he
couldn’t figure out where.
As Clajak caressed and fondled, he
inserted the lubed-up dildo in Bevau’s waiting passage. The Nobek
groaned as the long toy slid in and out, the gradually growing
girth easing him open. Clajak always seemed to know just how to
angle it so that it rubbed with delicious agony against Bevau’s
prostate.
Soon the soldier’s primary cock was
squirting pre-cum every few strokes. Bevau’s head tossed from side
to side as he moaned, overcome by the thrill of a full ass and
Clajak’s mouth and fingers. His juices caught the prince right in
the face a couple of times. The sight of Clajak with pre-cum
wetting his cheeks and chin was every bit as thrilling as what the
Dramok did to him.
This Dramok knew how to make a man
enjoy submission.
“Bevau,” Clajak groaned at last, his
breath coming quickly. “You insanely handsome man with your
ridiculously perfect body. I can barely hold on to my control. I
can’t wait another second to have you.”
The blunt admission filled Bevau’s
warrior heart. There was an ocean of longing in Clajak’s voice, as
great a compliment as the words themselves.
“Then fuck me, my wonderful rogue of a
prince.”
The invitation made Clajak’s eyes
darken. His fingers fumbled at the dildo swelling in Bevau’s rear.
The Nobek belatedly remembered Clajak was under the power of
intoxicant too, unable to resist any demand put to him. Bevau
almost laughed.
However, time worked against him as
much as it did Clajak. The Nobek didn’t want his lover escaping the
siren song of surrender before Bevau had his chance to dominate.
The sooner Clajak achieved his pleasure, the sooner Bevau could
have the prince.
And he had such a treasure trove of
ideas on how he would have this luscious man.
Clajak pulled the dildo out of Bevau.
He settled the Nobek’s legs in the crooks of his arms as he
positioned himself for the first thrust. “You shit,” the prince
complained. “You demanding bastard. I had a little more foreplay
left in me.”
Any reply Bevau might have made was
lost in Clajak’s penetration. The Nobek had told him to fuck, and
Clajak did so. The Dramok thrust in deep, burying himself to the
hilt in one eager push. His head fell back and he groaned at the
reflection in mirrored ceiling.
Bevau chorused pleasure with him,
enjoying an incredible mix of ache and bliss. Clajak’s primary cock
was thick, and it punished the Nobek’s ass delightfully as it drove
against his hotspot. Bevau’s cock wept again, spilling pre-cum as
it readied for the final explosion.
He fought the urge to detonate, wanting
to save climax for when he got Clajak beneath him. With the Dramok
whipping his hips back and forth, chasing orgasm for all he was
worth, it wasn’t easy. The constant friction against Bevau’s
prostate had every hair on his body standing at attention. Thrills
chased throughout him, his body clenched and veins standing out as
sweeter jolts played through his cocks.
Cum spilled from his secondary cock,
shoving its way to the primary. Knowing he couldn’t hold out much
longer, Bevau howled, “Come now, my prince! Come,
Clajak!”
Clajak screamed, his look defiant for
an instant. Then surrender suffused his features. His frantic
thrusts stuttered, stilled, started again. He cried out once more,
and Bevau felt warmth spill into his ass.
Bevau was too close to climax himself.
He grabbed the base of his larger cock, holding fast and squeezing
as hard as he dared. His body fought him, overcome by the
expression of rapture on Clajak’s face as the Dramok drained into
Bevau. The soldier held on, denying a lesser gratification than the
one he promised himself was coming.
By the time the Nobek had asserted
control over himself, the immediate danger ebbing, Clajak sagged.
He managed to separate from Bevau before toppling over onto the
mat’s surface.
This time, Bevau was ready. He sprang
up to his knees and grabbed Clajak by the ankle. Yanking the Dramok
close, Bevau bit into his thigh, injecting more intoxicant into the
lax-limbed prince.
Clajak shifted lazily, not trying to
escape. “I doubt you need to do that,” he sighed. “Even if the
first bite wears off, I’m too wasted to fight.”