Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (36 page)

The Nobek narrowed his eyes at his clanmate but obligingly stepped aside.  Gelan tugged on Krijero’s dicks, urging him forward.

“That’s it, Imdiko.  Go to the edge and lean over it.  Spread your legs for me.”

Krijero waded through the water that came up just below his ass cheeks.  The edge of the basin stood right at his waist, so it was an easy matter to bend over it as Gelan wanted.  He opened his stance wide, terribly aware of how he offered himself for the Dramok’s use.

“You can use your hands to brace yourself.  Otherwise, you are to remain still and accept my cock.”

Krijero stretched his arms over his head, feeling the cool stone floor beneath his hands.  Gelan continued to pump his dicks in his tight fists, making everything coil within.  A little harder and faster, along with the Dramok’s length rubbing that sweet spot inside his ass, and Krijero would come.  Anticipation made his pricks throb.

“Good boy,” Gelan said.  The approval made Krijero smile.

He felt the slick, hot prod of velvet-covered iron touch the bud of his ass.  Krijero opened for the invasion, and Gelan slid inside with a sigh.  “Fuck, yes,” the Dramok said.

He moved in and out, matching the rhythm with that of his hands that continued to masturbate Krijero.  The Imdiko couldn’t withhold a groan.  As always, Gelan had unerringly found his prostate, gliding friction against it fit to make his toes curl.  It was too slow and careful to make him come however.  The Dramok was drawing pleasure out for himself and driving Krijero crazy in the meantime.

Gelan gave a sudden jerk, and his hands tightened on Krijero’s cocks.  “Son of a … what the hell do you think you’re doing?” the clan leader said.

Krijero disobeyed the order to remain still by looking over his shoulder.  Fortunately, Gelan wasn’t looking at him.  He stared over his shoulder at the smugly smiling Wynhod, who stood right behind him.

The Nobek leered at his Dramok.  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.  Meanwhile, I’ll do you.”

Gelan jerked again as if trying to buck Wynhod off his back, nearly dislodging himself from Krijero’s asshole.  “Get off me.”

“Make me.”

The two men showed fangs at each other.  Krijero watched them wide-eyed.  He waited for Gelan to pull all the way out of him, to turn around and show Wynhod who was boss.

Instead, the Dramok calmed and gave Wynhod a grin full of threatening promise.  “I’m entirely too comfortable with my cock up this Imdiko’s ass to stop now.  You have your fun but know you’ll pay for it.”

“I have no doubt of that.”  Wynhod returned the smile.  “And I look forward to it.”

“Bastard.”  Gelan kissed his clanmate.

Krijero turned his head forward again, though he would have enjoyed watching the two men with each other.  For Gelan to give up domination over his Nobek so easily seemed to once more indicate a mixed-breed status at the very least. 

No, Krijero would never let on he thought Gelan wasn’t a pure Dramok, that he might even be more Nobek than not.  Not when Gelan and Wynhod were so obviously right for one another.  They belonged together.  Krijero knew that and smiled a little to know at least two men would have something special for the rest of their lives.

Gelan pushed deep into him, once more fucking him and rubbing his cocks.  The Imdiko moaned as he found exciting contact with that hot spot.  After a couple of strokes, the power behind them grew stronger.  Strong enough that it lifted him to his toes and made the water slosh about his groin.  He grunted with the force.  Gelan’s cock hit his prostate hard, and the only reason Krijero didn’t scream with the gorgeous bliss was because he suddenly couldn’t breathe.  His palms slapped the floor hard in reaction.

“Like that?” Gelan gasped.  “You’ve got us both, Imdiko.  Wynhod’s fucking you too, through me.  Two of us, at once.”

Despite Gelan’s command to be still, Krijero couldn’t have obeyed if his life depended on it.  The thrusts were hard and demanding, sending waves of ecstasy roiling from the base of his spine up into his skull.  Meanwhile, Gelan’s hands pumped his cocks, making pleasure pool heavily at their bases, thudding in time to his quickening heartbeat.  The Dramok’s breathing was like a hurricane in Krijero’s ear.  Gelan and Wynhod were driving him harder and harder, shoving him right off his feet.  His legs kicked wildly, splashing the steaming water all around them.  Krijero clawed at the smooth rock floor, every breath ending in desperate cries, each one more beseeching than the last.

Boiling heat slid into Krijero’s secondary cock, where it poured and poured until he thought it might burst.  Gelan masturbated him mercilessly, his grip tight and insistent.  The burning elation overflowed into the Imdiko’s larger prick.  He was coming.

A thick, molten trail flowed into Krijero’s main cock, traveling up the swollen length in a rush.  His entire body stiffened, bracing for the coming cataclysm.  Heat flushed throughout the Imdiko, the last thing he knew before everything went blinding white.

Then it was all physical exultation; the sweet, explosive seizure of pleasure pouring from his gut in long convulsions.  One shuddering contraction would pass only to be followed by the next.  Gelan’s hands on him were ruthless, squeezing every drop of earth-shattering bliss from his straining body, forcing him to empty completely until even the strength sapped from every muscle in Krijero’s body.  He sagged on the floor and in the water, drained of everything.

He heard the other men’s cries, the sounds distant and unimportant.  The throbbing of Gelan’s cock in his ass, releasing a hot flood deep within the Imdiko, also had a far-off quality.  Krijero floated in a sea of exhausted euphoria.

He was dimly aware of being lifted in strong arms.  The still-gasping Gelan and Wynhod got him out of the pool and dried him off before the whole bunch of them made their way into the sleeping room and dropped to the mat.

Krijero didn’t know how much time had passed before he discovered himself gazing into Gelan’s eyes.  The Dramok wore a determined look, one that gave Krijero a jolt of fear that woke him completely from his daze.

Gelan kissed him hard, kissed him as resolutely as he had looked at him.  When the kiss ended, he said, “Never think you are anything less than perfect, Krijero.”

The Imdiko was too afraid to speak.  In his head, he begged Gelan,
Please don’t ask me the question that will force me to end this once and for all.

Chapter 8

Gelan didn’t ask Krijero to clan that day.  He waited until the end of the vacation, as they were flying in his and Wynhod’s shuttle back to their homes.  Over the next year, he asked Krijero to clan three more times.

Each time Krijero refused and attempted to end his affair with the two men.  He would avoid Gelan and Wynhod for a few weeks.  The time spent away from them would be filled with memories and fantasies of being with them.  Krijero would frequent the pleasure clubs during those hellish weeks, becoming too aggressive in his frustrations to play with the Nobeks he’d once drawn.  Somehow, no other powerful men could compare to Gelan and Wynhod.  Instead, he used the service Imdikos, men who would let him be assertive and dominant.  The emptiness of fucking simply for release was no longer comforting, however.  It just made things worse.

During those terrible periods of time when Krijero separated from the pair he really wanted, Gelan and Wynhod made a point of keeping themselves available.  They were there in the precinct’s shuttle bay when he landed first thing in the morning and when he left at night.  As much as their work allowed, they came around the psych department to check on him.  They followed him to lunch.  They commed almost every night.  They kept after him until Krijero’s shaky resolve crumbled and he allowed himself to be drawn into their everyday lives once more.  He simply couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried or how certain he was the relationship would end badly.

Meanwhile, his efforts to investigate Frenzy had stalled out.  Even with the extra research access Gelan allowed him, Krijero had little luck getting anywhere.  In the Southwest Mountain Territory, there were never more than a couple of cases of withdrawal a month that alerted the police the drug maintained a presence.  Meanwhile, it had gotten worse in the other territories, stretching the law enforcement resources of those areas.  Kalquor’s Royal Council had even gotten involved, calling for Global Security to place the growing problem under their jurisdiction.  Global Security did not handle illegal drug enforcement cases, but there were rumors that Frenzy might become their first.

Krijero found the lack of local activity more worrisome than if there had been a lot of it.  He was convinced that where there was no smoke, a huge fire waited to be lit.  He’d gone exhaustively through the records of two local military munitions companies along with the men in charge of them.  He had come up with nothing that warranted suspicion.  He was down to the last one in the precinct, Benor Industries.  He’d purposely put off this one for the last because it was so huge and would take tons of personal time to research properly.  Benor not only ran weapons manufacturing, but it also had interstellar transport, colony construction, and mining interests under its umbrella, to name only a few.  Not only that, but Dramok Benor, the owner of the massive parent company, was a benefactor for the precinct.  He had supplied state-of-the-art shuttles and weaponry to the Southwest Mountain Territory police headquarters for the last fifteen years, free of charge. 

Krijero could only imagine the shitstorm of trouble he’d be in if it became known he checked into Dramok Benor’s corporations for underhanded dealings.

Well, it was time to either dive in or give up.  Krijero had just finished working on a big senior/invalid fund-stealing case with Gelan and Wynhod, and he had nothing of particular note on the horizon.  It was at the end of an unseasonably cold autumn day when he closed out all his files and switched off his computer at the end of the shift, with the promise to himself that he’d start on Benor’s holdings the next day.

* * * *

Wynhod scowled at Gelan.  The two stood outside of Krijero’s department, waiting for him to finish his shift so they could go out for dinner.

The Nobek said, “You know he’ll have a fit.  He’ll probably try to leave us again.”

Gelan’s expression turned dark.  “I’m not going to allow it this time.  You’re not the only one tired of playing his games.”

Wynhod was glad to hear Gelan wasn’t going to let their reluctant Imdiko to push them away for weeks at a time this go-round.  He hated trying to sleep at night without being curled around Krijero.

He told his Dramok, “You know what I think we should do?  We should tie his gorgeous ass up and fuck him nonstop until he says he’ll clan.”

“The thought has crossed my mind, but he could challenge it later in court.”

“Everyone sees us together.  We have witnesses that would testify he’s with us more than he’s not.  That shows intent to clan.”

Gelan shook his head, making his braids whisper against the shoulders of his formsuit.  “Too many know he’s dead set against clanning.  Like that pain in the ass Dramok Jomik who sits next to him in his office.  We’ll just have to keep biding our time, unfortunately.”

“But you’re not going to let him pull the same stunt of avoiding us because he gets scared?” Wynhod asked, wanting ironclad confirmation. 

“No more of that.  If he tries it, I’ll threaten to file a complaint against him for false enticement.  He’s come back to us too many times to be able to fight that.”

“Good.  I hate going weeks without him.”  Wynhod leaned against the wall and stared up at the illuminated ceiling.  He sighed.  “Is he ever going to trust us, Gelan?”

“I don’t know.  If I ever meet that fucking Dramok Pertak, he’s a dead man.”

“Unless I see him first.  But I will let you help me hide the body.”

They grinned at each other.  At that moment, Krijero walked out, his hair hanging over half his face.  Wynhod no longer cared about the Imdiko’s messy appearance.  Even on days Krijero wore wrinkled clothes because he had tossed them untidily in a drawer, Wynhod was perfectly fine with how he looked.  The less others saw the handsome truth of his stubbornly unclanned Imdiko, the more comfortable Wynhod was.  He didn’t want competition added to the obstacles already in his way of claiming Krijero as his clanmate.

The smile the psych gave him as he joined them made something in Wynhod’s chest ache.  The Imdiko said, “Hey.  I’m ready to go.”

Gelan slung an arm around Krijero’s shoulders and tugged him in the direction of the shuttle bay.  “Then we’re out of here.”

Wynhod fell into step with the pair, dreading the coming argument.

* * * *

Krijero was enjoying the night out.  They were at the same bar-restaurant they’d had their first dinner in together.  Tonight Gelan had commed ahead, getting the manager to save them a table by the balcony.  A temperature field was in place to keep the cold air out, but it allowed them to see the first snowfall of the season.  The lazily drifting flakes were beautiful, especially with the warmth of the nearby firepit keeping things comfortable.

Plus he was with Gelan and Wynhod.  That always made him happy … at least when he wasn’t reflecting on how sooner or later the two would come to their senses and find an Imdiko they really wanted.  They were wonderful men.