Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (33 page)

Wynhod’s strap splashed across the Imdiko’s ass again, this time harder.  Krijero cringed from the burning sting and more erotic ecstasy drove through his loins.  He shrieked from the wild swirl of pain and pleasure.  Release fought to escape and failed once again. 

Gelan stood on the sleeping mat and opened the crotch of his pants.  One hand seized the back of Krijero’s head.  With the other, the Dramok guided his glistening penis to the Imdiko’s braced mouth.  The sharp-sweetish flavor of Gelan’s cock glided over the Imdiko’s tongue.

Wynhod’s strap fell faster and harder, sending Krijero’s ass into paroxysms of delighted agony.  Meanwhile, Gelan fucked his mouth, sending his hot, pulsing cock into the psych’s throat while the second one rubbed up and down his chin.  Krijero instinctively swallowed to take the length without choking, his screams muffled when he could draw breath to utter them.

It was a maelstrom of torturous rapture, the likes of which the Imdiko had never known in all his forays in the pleasure clubs.  Bliss and misery combined to drive him out of his mind with craving. 

Gelan’s delicious cock slipped in and out.  The Dramok gasped as he fucked Krijero’s mouth, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.  His prick was so hot, the veins pulsing hard and fast.  Had Krijero not been so consumed with his own needs, he would have enjoyed serving Gelan’s, making the big man groan and his juices flow.  However, being at Gelan’s service only heightened the Imdiko’s desperate want, increasing his carnal agony.

The warm sleeve on his cock continued to stroke his eager flesh with its unmerciful soft grip.  Added to the constant rubbing of the cum spot deep in his ass, lust coiled violently tight in Krijero’s groin.  The pressure grew and grew as eager climax tried time and again to push free, only to be pushed back by the tight grip of the cockring.

The steady fall of Wynhod’s strap against Krijero’s defenseless ass added thrilling stings and fiery heat to the maelstrom.  The Imdiko couldn’t help but jerk with each slap of leather against flesh, grinding the ass plug ever harder into his prostate. 

His conscious mind uncoupled, overwhelmed by the continuous cycle of ecstatic torture.  He lost all knowledge of himself as a man, as a thinking being.  Only raw, desperate want and the inability to satisfy it existed.  His brain, a continuously thinking, evaluating, worrying creature, ceased to work.  Krijero was reduced to an organism of pure sensation.

The wondrous heat and pain of the strapping finally quit after endless minutes of erotic agony.  The monstrous delight of the butt plug tugged free, and Krijero nearly wept with both loss and relief.  The emptying was shortlived however.  A moment later, something much thicker and hotter bullied its way in, filling him once again and shoving against that cum spot to make him scream.  A thickly muscled forearm wrapped around Krijero’s waist, holding him still as Wynhod fucked him hard.

The Imdiko had no choice but to endure, to take the two men as they worked his mouth and ass.  His smaller cock ached with the pressure of being forced to contain his release.  He could only look up at Gelan with streaming eyes, moaning his pleas around the driving cock.

The Dramok caressed his cheek.  His expression was tender.  “Let him go, my Nobek.”

Wynhod’s gasping filled Krijero’s ear.  He reached down and, as the sleeve loosened around the Imdiko’s straining prick, he pulled it and the cockring off.  The enforcer’s hand closed around Krijero’s cock.  He pumped once, twice.

The cataclysm came hard and fast, exploding out of Krijero’s secondary dick to fill the first then bursting forth in a torrential flood.  The Imdiko felt molten, thick liquid stream against his belly and chest.  Then he knew no more for a white explosion of eternity.

He came back to air echoing with the groans of his companions.  Sweet-salty spice spurted over his tongue and down his throat, and more heat pulsed up his ass.  Gelan and Wynhod were coming inside him, filling him with their pleasure.  Krijero shuddered between them, his mind struggling to resume thought.  It only mattered that his companions were satisfied with him, that they had found bliss within his body.

The Imdiko swallowed every drop Gelan gave him, rolling the strong flavor of the Dramok on his tongue, enjoying the transient feeling of being a part of something bigger than just an unemotional encounter.  That seemed to kick his brain back into gear, and he became aware of himself and his situation once more.

The sex had been amazing.  He’d never been pushed so hard or so far.  That it couldn’t last, possibly ending with this one night, was a secondary concern as Krijero’s body glowed with satiety.  He could accept it for what it was and move on.  The world didn’t have to end simply because he’d had sex with Gelan and Wynhod, men he’d dreamed of, fantasized about, wished for.  It certainly hadn’t ended when Pertak left him, as much as he’d once wanted it to.

Nevermind his heart cried out for more.  Krijero knew better.  He might be clumsy and a mess to look at, but he wasn’t stupid.  This little encounter would end eventually, and he’d be ready for it.

Gelan and Wynhod, sighing with appreciation, untied him.  They did so, kissing and stroking him all over all the while.  Such consideration after the fucking was done didn’t usually happen at the pleasure clubs.  It was a nice change to be petted and appreciated for what Krijero had given them.  He basked in the care.  When his legs failed to hold him up and they laughingly carried him to the shower, he let them with a contented smile.

As water sluiced over his body and the other two men washed him with thoughtful attention, Gelan asked, “So.  Any complaints about our lovemaking techniques you can share with us?”

Krijero lifted his heavy eyelids to stare at the Dramok.  He’d damned near been falling asleep on his feet.  They’d fucked him senseless in a way that had left him in an altered state of euphoria.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” he mumbled.

The polished granite walls of the shower echoed with laughter from the other two men.

Chapter 6

Wynhod set out cups and packs of vitamin juice on the granite counter in the soft light of the new morning.  A few steps away, Gelan cooked strips of cured teglit and some fresh-grown repeb from the produce market over the hot griddle.  He had toasted grain pockets at the ready to put the sizzling bits in.  The smell filled their small but efficient kitchen, making Wynhod’s mouth water.  He was starving.  His appetite was ravenous, especially after last night’s enjoyments.

Wynhod thought of Krijero, still fast asleep in the bed.  He couldn’t help but smile a little to himself.  It had been pleasant to sleep curled against the Imdiko’s back the night before.  Waking this morning to see Gelan sleepily contemplating the man snuggled up against his shoulder had been nice too.  Neither of them had spoken or moved for several minutes.  They had simply held Krijero between them, both loathing to rise from his warmth to start the day.

He fit quite well there in the middle of the sleeping mat between them.  Like a piece of a puzzle nearly completed. 

Wynhod finally spoke the first words uttered this morning.  “What’s our next move with him?”

Gelan frowned at the strips in the griddle.  “I’m not sure.  We need to keep him close and let him get to know us better.  Build the trust he needs to get over whatever happened to make him so reluctant to clan.”

“We should ask him about that.  I’m betting it has something to do with that Dramok he lived with.”

Gelan raised his gaze to meet the Nobek’s eyes.  “Damn Wynhod, that happened 17 years ago.  It would have been a pretty terrible breakup to affect him for so long.”

Wynhod shrugged.  That little tidbit comprised almost everything they knew about Krijero’s personal past.  “No known relationships since then.  Isn’t that what your research on him found?”

“Yeah.”  Gelan’s frown deepened to become an outright scowl.  “What has to happen between two men to make one refuse to entertain the slightest notion of clanning ever again?”

“Imdikos are sensitive.  Krijero’s not the first of his breed I’ve heard of to do such a thing.  They usually get over it after a few months though, when they meet the right Dramok or Nobek.”

“Not our Imdiko, though.  Seventeen fucking years.”  Gelan shook his head, making his cornrowed braids whisper against the fabric of his formsuit as he filled the grain pockets.  “We need to get him to open up at some point.  At any rate, breakfast is ready.”

“I’ll go get our guest.”  Wynhod headed towards the sleeping room, leaving Gelan to set the table.

* * * *

Warm, soft lips moved against Krijero’s, bringing him to consciousness.  He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t attempt to drive back gently enfolding sleep.  Instead, he kissed back, opening his mouth to let his tongue explore.  Another tongue met his, tasting, twining, stroking.

The Imdiko moaned into the mouth of the other, his arms circling a thick neck, drawing the man kissing him closer.  His cocks twitched in interest, slowly filling with heat.

A chuckle vibrated the lips on his.  Wynhod spoke against his mouth.  “Don’t get me too aroused, Imdiko.  Breakfast is ready and Gelan will be angry if we let it get cold.” 

Krijero sighed and loosened his grip on the Nobek.  He finally opened his eyes to see the other man smiling down on him.  Memories of last night came flooding back, and Krijero’s cocks gave an eager jerk.  Damn, that had been amazing.

“No morning delight?” he asked, his tone almost plaintive.

Wynhod grinned but shook his head.  “You don’t want Gelan mad at us.”

Krijero yawned and gave up.  “I can imagine that.  Sometimes he acts more Nobek than Dramok.”

Wynhod went still.  Krijero froze under the piercing look the enforcer gave him.

In a soft voice, the Nobek said, “I will thank you to keep that observation to yourself, Krijero.  I will not have his breed challenged.  It would end my clanship with him.”

Krijero slowly sat up, his eyes never leaving Wynhod.  “You think he was mis-classified?”

The other man’s mouth tightened.  “His parents tell stories of his destructiveness as a child.  Wild rages during which he destroyed things, just like a member of my breed.  He has a lot of leadership characteristics at the same time.  It could be he is half-Dramok, half-Nobek.”

“In that case, no one would take his Dramok classification away.  You would still be clanned.”

“But what if he’s found to be a Nobek with strong Dramok characteristics?  I cannot take that chance, Krijero.  I will not lose Gelan.”

Wynhod stared hard at him.  In his eyes, Krijero saw the worry that came close to being fear.  Nobeks rarely spoke of love for other men, preferring to let their actions in protecting clanmates speak for them.  In that look, Krijero saw the full weight and terror of a man in love.  The sheer agony that he could lose the one who meant the most to him.

Krijero said in a quiet voice, “No, Wynhod.  You won’t lose him, not through any actions of mine anyway.”

Wynhod relaxed.  He drew a deep breath in and then leaned over to kiss Krijero’s lips.  The spontaneous, caring action warmed the Imdiko.

The Nobek grabbed his hand and tugged.  “Let’s eat.”

He helped Krijero out of bed.  They located Krijero’s clothing, which Gelan had sent out overnight to be cleaned and pressed.  For once not in a state of a wrinkled mess, Krijero left the room with Wynhod.  He was very aware of the hand on his lower back as the Nobek prodded him towards the well-furnished dining room.

Gelan looked up from his seat at the polished wood table as they entered the dining space.  As Krijero sniffed appreciatively at the delicious scents of food, the Dramok gave him a look filled with exasperated good humor.  “Please let me do something to tame that hair before we leave for work.”

Krijero smiled and attempted to shake his cowlick out of his face.  “You can try.  At least my clothes look good.  Thanks for getting them laundered.”

Gelan motioned to one of the plates on the table.  “Have a seat and dig in.”

“It smells amazing.”  Krijero folded his long legs on the plush seating cushion and looked around.  The table was gorgeous, possibly handmade.  It didn’t look like anything manufactured in a robot-controlled factory.  The seating cushions were thick and billowy, as comfortable as the bed he’d just left.  An archway opened out onto the balcony, and Krijero saw the blameless blue sky outside signaling another lovely day.  On the other walls of the room were vids of mountain vistas.  None of them looked like the ones he was familiar with.  He wondered if they were peaks Wynhod had climbed.

He told Gelan, “You have a really nice place.”

“Thanks.  Ready to move in?”

Krijero snorted.  Since he couldn’t come up with an appropriately smart-ass reply, he picked up his grain pocket and took a bite.  Damn, someone around here could cook, he decided.  The teglit had been perfectly seasoned and smoked prior to hitting the grill.  It was all he could do not to moan his appreciation.

“So why did you break up with Dramok Pertak?”

Gelan’s abrupt question along with Krijero’s former lover’s name made the Imdiko choke.  As soon as he cleared his airway, he glared at his host.  “Son of a bitch.  Where did that come from?”