WIP Wednesday – Clan Beginnings: Clan and Conviction

It’s with the proofreader!  We have cover art!  The tentative release date is May 3.  Let’s celebrate with a fight for dominance:

            Just like the old days, Gelan’s mind was running along the same lines.  Even as Wynhod sprang for him, the Dramok was coming at him too.  Their bodies crashed against each other with a heavy thud.  The next instant they were grappling, each trying to gain control of the other man’s body.  The air came alive with grunts, growls, and the sound of tearing fabric.

            Feeling that magnificent body straining against his brought vicious lust to the fore.  Wynhod’s cocks swelled in excitement, demanding he defeat Gelan, bring him down, hold him still, and mount him.  He knocked his opponent back, sending Gelan to fall hard on a table top that groaned under the impact but did not break.  Wynhod jumped on him, eager to make the other man submit.  But Gelan was ready for him, bringing up a knee to slam into the Nobek’s gut and drive all the wind out of him.  Wynhod caught himself at the last second, lessening the impact but feeling enough of it to grunt painfully.  Gelan slammed a fist into Wynhod’s jaw and rolled out from under him.

            Wynhod was back on his feet in less time than it took to bat an eye, only barely noting the ache from Gelan’s blow.  Gelan was also up, and they circled one another, watching for an opening.  Wynhod noted how fast Gelan was breathing, his respiration much quicker than it should be so early in the fight.  Someone wasn’t keeping up with his endurance training like he should be, he thought.  Gelan was definitely going down fast, not that the Dramok would probably mind so much.  Wynhod’s opponent’s fangs were down, his crotch livid with erection. 

            Oh yeah.  Just like the old days.

            Wynhod feinted to the left, and Gelan fell for it, exposing his right flank for only a moment.  He realized his mistake almost immediately, but it was too late.  Wynhod capitalized on it and bore the other man down to the rug-strewn floor.

            They rolled around, punching and kicking, their fangs snapping close enough to furrow skin but neither getting hold to send the intoxicating venom into each other.  At last, Wynhod was able to use his greater weight to advantage, twisting his body so he was on top of and slightly behind Gelan.  He wrapped his arm around his partner’s neck and squeezed, slowly choking the Dramok out.

            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.