Clan Beginnings: Clan and Crave - Chaper Two, Scene Two

 

Releasing May 31. Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print

Sletran works hard to earn a runaway's trust.

* * * *

Sletran, age 26

Sletran didn’t consider himself wise by any stretch. He’d done well as a youth in training camp, and he was considered an exemplary soldier despite it being early in his career, but he’d accomplished his gains through dedicated effort. He never turned his nose up at shit work. He often volunteered for it. His attitude of getting the job done, whatever it took, had been what had made him stand out rather than his brains.

Nonetheless, he felt something was terribly wrong when it came to the skinny and haunted Imdiko boy he’d taken to a quiet eatery, where they sat on floor cushions at a low table on the pleasant patio. Not physical abuse. Other than the bruises the shitheads from the local training camp had inflicted on him, he’d stood up against them rather than cowering readily enough when they’d confronted him.

It was obvious he’d been on his own for a short while, but it didn’t account for how underfed he appeared. His clothes, while dirty and torn from days’ wear, fit him properly. Even now, he picked at the food Sletran had ordered for him when he’d failed to choose from the menu. It wasn’t fancy fare since the Nobek couldn’t afford such, but it wasn’t bad. The kid had eaten ravenously for the first few bites, then had become listless. His shadowed eyes peered at Sletran through heavy waves of hair…no longer nervously, thank the ancestors, but watchful. Evaluating. He was on guard, and Sletran sensed it was more from habit than an actual concern the Nobek might prove dangerous.

“You’re a runaway. Trouble at home?” he prodded.

The boy shrugged. It was the only answer he’d given to Sletran’s questions when he answered at all.

“How old are you? Twelve? Thirteen?”

At last, he rewarded Sletran’s attempts with a response in an insulted tone. “Fifteen.”

Sletran kept his expression composed, though he was surprised. He’d given an estimate higher than what he’d guessed the kid’s actual age to be in an attempt to make him feel complimented. Most boys appreciated it when they were seen as mature for their ages. His effort had been way off the mark, but for good reason.

He’s too damn small for a fifteen-year-old. Don’t his parents feed him?

Maybe. The boy’s plate was still more than half full, and they’d been sitting there half an hour.

“Fifteen. You aren’t really a kid then.” He was, but Sletran wanted the teen to like him and feel he could confide whatever had gone so badly for him to have left home. Imdikos who’d done so were serious business. As the fewest and most sensitive of Kalquor’s male breeds, they were to be protected.

His young companion shrugged. They were back to his stubborn silence.

“At your age, you’re aware I can’t simply let you wander off. I have to take you to the authorities to sort out and send you home.”

The boy stopped shoving food around on his platter. His lower lip trembled. His blue-purple eyes brightened. Tears threatened.

Sletran’s stomach squeezed tight on the food he’d wolfed down. He had no idea what to do if the kid burst into tears or begged him not to take him to law enforcement. The Nobek sat stiff on his floor cushion, waiting for the storm and wondering how he was supposed to handle it.

Instead of sobbing or pleading, the teen blinked the tears back before they could fall. He pushed his platter aside. “I know.”

The defeated tone hurt worse than Sletran had imagined crying would. He’d never heard anyone speak so hopelessly.

I have to know what happens to him. I need to know he’ll be okay when he gets wherever he’s going.

“Since it’ll come out anyway, would you at least tell me your name?”

The teen gazed at him, some of the lost aspect easing off to allow a tinge of hope. “Will you stay with me as long as the authorities allow? I trust you to make sure I’ll be okay. You won’t let anyone be…cruel.”

“Sure. I’m on leave a couple days, so it isn’t a problem.” He felt pride to have earned the kid’s confidence. He assumed it didn’t come easily.

“My name is Conyod, son of Clan Tuher.”

Sletran smiled. For a wonder, Conyod returned it. The young Imdiko’s version was wan, but it was a smile.

“It’s very good to meet you, Conyod. Do me a favor and try to eat a couple more bites, then we’ll go to the local precinct.”

“Okay. I’ll try for you.”

* * * *

He needed a hero and found two. Can love rescue him again?

Nobek Sletran never took Imdiko Conyod’s infatuation seriously when he rescued him years before. When Conyod shows up in his life again as a strong and successful man instead of a traumatized victim, Sletran has to reconsider the one he once rejected and now can’t imagine life without.

Conyod has never given up on the man he considers his hero. Sletran is all he’s ever wanted for a clanmate, and he’s determined to win him at last. But the past refuses to be laid to rest. When Conyod convinces Sletran to see him for who he’s become, will who he was resurface and destroy the love they’re building?

Sletran’s commanding officer Dramok Erybet is instantly fascinated by Conyod when the soldier brings his love on base for a visit. However, Sletran isn’t the Nobek Erybet feels is right for him. When he rejects the Nobek, he risks losing Conyod too.

Against the backdrop of heartbreaking childhood tragedy, a ghost who haunts Conyod and his grief-stricken family, and military brass determined to oust Erybet from the rank he’s worked so hard to reach, three men must come to terms with who they are. When tragedy strikes, the nightmares of the past must be faced and buried once and for all. Conyod, Sletran, and Erybet must dare everything to find redemption and hold on to each other.

Releasing May 31.  Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print

 

Clan Beginnings: Clan and Crave - Chaper Two, Scene One

 

Releasing May 31. Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print

 

When Conyod met Sletran

* * * *

Conyod, age 15 

“Nowhere to go, thief. What do you have to say for yourself before we beat your ass?”

Conyod peered through the dirty strands of his hair at the jeering Nobek. His tormentor stood at the center of a group of teen Nobeks. They’d surrounded him at the edge of the berlub field they’d chased him from. They numbered five, slightly older than him, he judged. They must have come from the nearby training camp he’d skulked past a few miles back.

It was just his luck for them to be on leave when he’d given in to hunger and plundered the berlub bushes of a farm. He was a thief, no two ways about it, but after two weeks on the run, five days after he’d finished the food he’d taken from home, he was starving. There’d been no one in sight when he’d slunk into the field to fill his snarling stomach with the bright yellow berries that hadn’t yet been harvested.

Anger and shame…and a hefty dose of fear not entirely due to the young muscled Nobeks who’d chased him from the field…brought the sting of tears to his eyes. Cornered, the evidence of his desperate wrongdoing clutched in his fists so the juice dripped from them, he snarled, “Assault is a bigger crime than stealing. Touch me and you’ll be sorry.”

“I doubt it. You don’t look as if you have the sort of parents who possess the rank to protest a well-deserved thrashing.” His chief accuser smirked at the rest.

Conyod glanced down at his clothes. They were torn from hiding in thorny bushes from those he’d feared might be searching for him. He was filthy from crouching in muddy gullies thanks to a couple of days of downpours. His carry sack wasn’t in any better shape, one strap knotted together after it had caught on a branch and torn.

A slap to his cheek sent him reeling. The teen he staggered toward shoved him in the middle again, and he stumbled to catch his footing as his face flamed hot pain.

“Let’s teach him a lesson,” his chief antagonist said and grabbed Conyod by his hair. “Don’t hold back. I want to see blood. Make him cry like the baby he is.”

“Hold on, Gotas,” one of the boys gasped. “He’s a skinny kid. I bet he’s an Imdiko. We can’t—”

“I say we do.” The teen identified as Gotas bared fangs at Conyod’s would-be advocate. “If you’re scared, you can run to camp. But you better hide well, where I can’t find you.”

There was a flash of anger, but when no one else spoke up, the boy subsided.

“Better. To show you I don’t hold a grudge, I’ll let you have first punch, Hetnur. Step on up and—”

Conyod, who’d been alternating between trying to pull loose from Gotas’ grip and hopping on his toes to relieve the agonizing tug on his hair, had come to a decision. He was about to get hurt, no doubt where that was concerned, but maybe he could do a little damage himself. Taking advantage of Gotas’ divided attention, he swung his leg at his harasser’s crotch.

He was a good deal shorter than Gotas, and he’d never been in a fight. He had to kick higher than was comfortable. It was a weak blow, by all accounts. However, his aim was true. His shin landed a bullseye on the Nobek teen’s sensitive spot.

Conyod’s shock he’d actually attacked someone else, and someone so much bigger, was matched only by the shock on Gotas’ expression. The teen’s eyes and mouth formed perfect o’s an instant before agony suffused his features. His breath left him in a curiously high-pitched whistle. He released Conyod to clutch his assaulted privates as his knees bent and his torso curled. A line of drool ran from his lower lip.

Conyod stood frozen, watching as the bully offered a thin scream as high-pitched as the whistling breath had been. A dim part of his brain told him he should be running like hell, but he was too gobsmacked to have turned the tables on his tormentor to do so.

“You know, kid, once you put your opponent at such a disadvantage, you shouldn’t just stand there. A good move when the enemy’s bent in pain would be to grab the back of his head and yank it down while you smash your knee in his face.”

A massive man waded between the startled boys. Conyod turned his stunned gaze toward the muscled behemoth in the black armored uniform of a ground troop soldier. Where had he come from?

A couple of the teens yelped. “Stay put!” the muscled Nobek shouted. Poised to run, they froze on the spot. Except for Gotas, who was still trying to learn how to breathe again.

The soldier stared at the terrified-looking youths, his initial nonchalance disappearing behind a rictus of fury. “What a company of cowards and assholes,” he snarled. “Names. Now. You first.”

He appeared so bestial, none of the teens dared to refuse. As his burning gaze lit on each of the younger Nobeks, they stuttered their names. Conyod heard none of them, his senses overwhelmed by what had happened in a matter of minutes.

The presence of his rescuer held him astonished. He wasn’t the handsomest man the young Imdiko had ever encountered, but he was perhaps the most riveting. Nearly waist-length black curls framed a body carved from granite. The armored formsuit had no hope of hiding the strength of his thighs or the broadness of his shoulders. He looked like the strongest man alive to the boy.

Having gained the names of Conyod’s attackers, the soldier stripped off a thick strap circling his thigh, in which a knife had been sheathed. He tucked the knife and its pocket beneath the utility belt at his waist.

“Pay attention, shitheads. As it seems your instructors have been lax in teaching you proper behavior, class is now in session,” he announced. “A Nobek’s first duty is to protect the empire. His second duty is to protect his clan. And his third duty, which sometimes takes precedence over the first two, is to protect those weaker than himself.

“Am I appalled to see the opposite occurring here? To see five Nobeks of the Kalquorian Empire attacking a smaller youth, an Imdiko, no less? You’re damned right I’m appalled. More than appalled. I’m fucking livid!”

His fangs showed as he roared at them. All five, including Gotas, who was beginning to become aware of matters beyond his abused groin, moaned in terror.

“There is no excuse. None.”

“He was stealing—” one of the boys dared.

The soldier was a blur of motion. He grabbed the teen who’d spoken by the back of the neck and yanked him to the middle of the gathered. The strap flailed faster than Conyod’s eyes could follow, though there was no mistaking the thuds of contact.

The youth squalled and fell to his hands and knees. He dug his booted toes and fingers in the ground, trying to escape the beating, but the soldier held him fast and without obvious effort. The black strap flashed in the sunlight. Conyod and the rest cringed, but they couldn’t tear themselves from the sight. Nor did the teens show any inclination to rescue their fellow.

I don’t blame them. This guy could tear us limb from limb without trying.

His thought was as much worshipful as terrified. He’d thought his father Vel was the be-all and end-all of the Nobek breed until this magnificent warrior.

The soldier paused and shook the howling youth. “Now beg the Imdiko’s pardon or get a second round of the same.”

“I…I’m sorry, Imdiko. Forgive me.”

The elder Nobek released the teen, who stumbled a few feet, then collapsed in a shuddering heap. The soldier glared at the remaining four.

“Look at this boy.” He gestured at Conyod. “It’s obvious to anyone who possesses half a brain he’s starving. Why else would he be thieving berries from a field? Yet it occurred to none of you supposed protectors to help him. You chose to bully him instead. You’re lower than thieves. You’re nothing.” He spat.

The teens hunched. They looked at Conyod in shame. The sole exception was Gotas. His gaze betrayed black hatred, though he was obviously too afraid of the soldier to voice it.

“The rest of you will receive punishment from me, after which you’ll also beg the Imdiko for pardon. If you try to escape, you’ll get double. If any of you somehow manage to escape, I have your names. I’ll report all of you to the training camp, not just the coward who runs off. Having graduated from a camp myself, I know exactly what you’re in for if your superiors learn what you’ve done here today.”

The boys were shaking, but they didn’t move an inch. Would punishment at the camp be worse than a strapping from the Nobek? Conyod couldn’t imagine it.

It must have been true, because one by one, they submitted to his harsh discipline. Their cries rang out over the field, and they begged Conyod’s forgiveness long before the punishment ended.

The fourth youth, he who was named Hetnur and had tried to reason with Gotas, tried to negotiate a lesser penalty when he stepped forward. “Nobek, I tried to tell them, I really did, I said it wasn’t fair for us to jump him—”

“You spoke, but you did nothing. A true Nobek isn’t wary of the numbers against him if an injustice is being committed. A Nobek would rather his breath stop than allow harm to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Except for this piece of dung with the bashed cocks who led you, you’re the worst of the group for your failure to stand up for what you knew was right. You’ll be strapped harder than those who came before you.”

The soldier was true to his word. Hetnur’s punishment was the severest thus far. Conyod couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Then the soldier turned to Gotas. “Do you think I’ll spare you because you’ve already suffered the greatest damage? I see plainly you feel no remorse for what you’ve done. You’re the leader of these worms. You’ve set yourself up as their superior only to terrorize the weak. Who else have you convinced them to gang up on? How many innocents have been hurt because you decided power was better than defending those who’d look to you for help?”

The soldier’s furious glare raked the others. “This is who you’ve chosen to fear…a spineless weakling who uses you to intimidate those he hasn’t the strength to overcome alone. He couldn’t even defeat an underfed Imdiko. Are you truly so pathetic as to follow this pretend Nobek?”

Gotas said nothing, but he’d gone pale. He went paler as his howls were added to those of his fellows.

When the soldier had finished, he waved them off as if shooing flies. “Get out of my sight before I decide you deserve more than I’ve given you.”

They clumsily slunk to the dirt road leading to the training camp. Gotas was still hunched, and he moved slower than the rest. They left him behind, and Conyod had a feeling the bully would find himself friendless for a long time.

He pulled his sight from the retreating youths to discover the soldier stared at him. “Now for you,” the man said.

Conyod’s heart skipped a beat as his gaze skittered to the thick strap the man held. He grew dizzy, and not just from hunger and exhaustion.

“Ancestors, I won’t beat you, kid. You look as if you’ve been through enough.” The soldier stepped close. His tone was shockingly soft for such a terrifying person. His expression too. “I’m Nobek Sletran. I want to help you. What’s your name and where do you live?”

Conyod hunched, hating the idea he might invite the young man’s ire as the bullies had. He didn’t dare answer his rescuer, however. He simply stared at the booted feet in front of him and shook his head. Then he waited for the blows.

* * * *

He needed a hero and found two. Can love rescue him again?

Nobek Sletran never took Imdiko Conyod’s infatuation seriously when he rescued him years before. When Conyod shows up in his life again as a strong and successful man instead of a traumatized victim, Sletran has to reconsider the one he once rejected and now can’t imagine life without.

Conyod has never given up on the man he considers his hero. Sletran is all he’s ever wanted for a clanmate, and he’s determined to win him at last. But the past refuses to be laid to rest. When Conyod convinces Sletran to see him for who he’s become, will who he was resurface and destroy the love they’re building?

Sletran’s commanding officer Dramok Erybet is instantly fascinated by Conyod when the soldier brings his love on base for a visit. However, Sletran isn’t the Nobek Erybet feels is right for him. When he rejects the Nobek, he risks losing Conyod too.

Against the backdrop of heartbreaking childhood tragedy, a ghost who haunts Conyod and his grief-stricken family, and military brass determined to oust Erybet from the rank he’s worked so hard to reach, three men must come to terms with who they are. When tragedy strikes, the nightmares of the past must be faced and buried once and for all. Conyod, Sletran, and Erybet must dare everything to find redemption and hold on to each other.

Releasing May 31.  Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print

 

 

Clan Beginnings: Clan and Crave - Chapter One, Scene Five

 

Releasing May 31. Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print

 

A torrid encounter

* * * *

They were barely in the door of Conyod’s small apartment when Sletran pulled him into his arms and kissed him. It was a searching, deep kiss, the kiss Conyod had dreamed of for years.

He clung to the Nobek, his hands moving over the back of Sletran’s casual shirt, a shirt that would have hung loose on any other man but this incredibly built warrior. He felt the muscles flex beneath the fabric as Sletran also explored. Their mouths moved in concert, and their tongues twined.

Every stroke sent electricity buzzing through Conyod. He sensed the world turning, turning, turning…then realized Sletran was moving him across the floor, prodding him toward the greeting space’s small lounger.

Conyod pulled his tingling lips free. “Sleeping room?”

“Later. After staring at you all night, I can’t wait.”

Sletran tugged Conyod’s shirt off, tossed it aside, and paused to examine him. He grabbed the smaller man by the waist and pulled him close again. His palms ran over Conyod’s ass. “Ancestors, you’re beautiful. Are you sure you’re Imdiko Conyod, son of Clan Tuher?”

“I hope so. They keep insisting I come to their ranch for dinner so they can boss me around.”

Sletran barked a laugh before devouring him in another heady kiss, squeezing his ass as he did so. Conyod moaned and yielded to a rush of lust, sucking on the tongue plundering his mouth.

The next instant, he was flat on his back on the lounger. Sletran was a blur. Conyod’s shoes flew across the small room, landing in the corner. His pants were gone too. The Nobek hung over him, his greedy gaze raking him.

Aroused, Sletran had a stare that could burn. Conyod swore it was lighting him on fire. He reached for the larger man.

His wrists were abruptly pinned over his head. Sletran grinned as he traced the fingers of his free hand down Conyod’s torso and further, barely skimming the larger of the Imdiko’s livid pair of cocks. He licked the wetness from his fingertips. “You grew big and strong. Do you think you could take me in a fight for dominance?”

It was an aroused Nobek response, the urge to fight then fuck. Conyod knew he didn’t have a chance against the battle-trained soldier. “Maybe when you’re asleep and I have a huge stick to whack you with.”

Sletran laughed, humor taking the edge of bestial need from his features. “Ah hell, Conyod. I’m glad I went against what I thought was my better judgment and agreed to meet you today. Seriously though, am I taking advantage? Do you finally see me as just a guy who helped a kid one day instead of some ridiculous hero you built too big in your mind?”

“You are my hero. I particularly like the ridiculous side of you.” Conyod snickered. “Heroes don’t usually admit to such flaws, so it makes you even better.”

Sletran’s eyes narrowed. Protest was written on his strong face. “You need to quit the hero worship.”

“Okay. I promise to worship only your body for the next hour. I’d be able to do so properly if you’d strip…hint, hint, hint.”

Sletran cracked up again. “You’ve become funny in the last few years. Definitely not angsty. Hell, who am I kidding? You’re gorgeous, you’re a grown-ass man, and I’m going to fuck you. Why put off today what I can regret tomorrow?”

Conyod’s gut tightened. “I hope you won’t regret this.”

“I doubt I will, but you might, having put me on such a high pedestal.”

Before Conyod could respond, Sletran grabbed his primary and stroked. At the same instant, he kissed him with fierce demand. Conyod writhed in response, his hips rising and falling in rhythm to the experienced movements of his companion’s hand.

He’d enjoyed a few lovers. An unclanned Imdiko his age had no shortage of Dramoks and Nobeks eager to prove themselves in bed. None of them compared to Sletran, though he’d done so little thus far.

He was Sletran, and he was more than enough.

When the Nobek had aroused Conyod to the point he was struggling to escape the warrior’s grip…he was desperate to tear his clothes off to see and touch what he’d dreamed of for years…Sletran released his larger cock. His smile was mocking and hungry at once, an expression exciting and anxiety-provoking.

Conyod was too stirred to bow to the warnings in his head begging him to not goad an aroused Nobek. Sletran was indeed excited. It was in the darkness of his eyes, the hint of fangs peeking between his lips, the swollen crotch of his trousers, and the spicy scent of a Kalquorian man’s lust joining Conyod’s.

“Don’t stop,” the Imdiko whispered, straining toward him.

Sletran continued to stare at him. He slowly, deliberately, licked the wetness from his fingers, which had so recently been stroking Conyod’s primary.

“You taste lovely, Imdiko. You feel good. So wet and hard. So hungry for attention. I just have to figure out what I want to do with you first.”

“Anything.”

“Really?” Sletran swooped to deliver a kiss to Conyod’s nipple. His lips tightened around it and sucked gently. He licked next, his coarse tongue rough. Conyod gasped at the spike of pure arousal beelining from his chest to his jerking shafts.

Then Sletran bit. A jolt of pain joined the exciting heat building in the younger man’s groin. His cocks throbbed. Conyod writhed and groaned. “Yes!”

“You are grown up.” Sletran kissed and licked a path to the other nipple. His teeth closed on the dark circle.

Conyod’s ass bounced on the lounger’s cushions as torment and lust tore through him at the Nobek’s bite. “Fuck!”

Sletran snickered and growled at once. He sucked his nipple and bit again.

It was too much. Conyod had claimed he couldn’t best Sletran in a fight for dominance, hadn’t imagined doing so, but carnal hunger overtook him. His lover must have thought he’d totally surrendered. When Conyod yanked, his wrists broke free of Sletran’s grip.

He wasn’t as fast as a battle-hardened Nobek, but one who was taken by surprise was slower to react. Conyod managed to shove him off and pull Sletran’s shirt open to display a chest chiseled within an inch of its life before the Nobek responded.

Sletran made up for his lapse. The world swirled around Conyod. He was abruptly on his stomach, his face buried in the velvety seat cushion. Sletran’s weight held him pinned. The Nobek swept his long, heavy hair aside, baring the side and back of his neck.

Conyod discerned what was happening an instant before his lover’s fangs sank in the thick muscle joining his neck to his shoulder. He bucked, but the fight was finished. Sletran had him.

Warmth flowed through his veins, or perhaps it was Conyod’s imagination. Real or not, he knew the Nobek’s venom was filling him, racing toward his brain, where it would render him more vulnerable than if Sletran had tied him down.

Kalquorian venom affected various species differently. It was deadly poison to Bi’isils, was harmless but burned like acid when used on Adrafs, sent Plasians into a deep sleep, and set off hallucinations for Beonids. Only Joshadans suffered no effects, ill or good, from Kalquorian bites.

When a Kalquorian bit one of its kind, it rendered the victim susceptible to the biter’s commands. It was the rare Kalquorian who could resist the intoxicating pull of his attacker’s orders, no matter how he fought to maintain control.

Conyod wasn’t among the rare. When Sletran released the bite and said, “Don’t move,” the command soaked into his consciousness. He didn’t budge when the Nobek’s weight lifted off him. He felt the other man kneeling over his legs, his knees on either side of Conyod’s.

“Naughty Imdiko.” There was no reprisal in Sletran’s tone. In fact, he sounded as if he were gloating. “Trying to take control? I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

He rubbed Conyod’s buttocks, a firm massage to both cheeks. The helpless man groaned, his trapped sexes shoving at the cushion beneath him. Sletran’s calloused touch was amazing. When his thumb brushed Conyod’s hole, passion flooded him. His instinct was to jerk, but the order to stay still kept him from doing so.

“Yes. Discipline must be given and taught. Fortunately…or perhaps not…I’m a stern taskmaster. If you’re less than an avid pupil, it’ll soon change.”

While he spoke, he continued to rub, occasionally tracing Conyod’s entrance. His deep voice, growing breathy in anticipation, delivered words the Imdiko took little notice of. Conyod’s entire being focused on the exhilarating touch. He was wholly unready when the first slap sent fire blazing across his ass.

Conyod yelped and twitched, but Sletran’s command to remain in place meant he stayed exactly where he was.

“All grown up.” A second blistering smack brought a stronger yell. “It’s probably been ages since you’ve had a proper spanking.” Whack. “Good thing I’m here to remind you—” another strike “—how a young man is supposed to behave—” smack “—in the company of his elders.”

Conyod squalled as his ass turned into an inferno. He was aware of how the heat sank deep in his flesh, seeping into his cocks, which grew fuller and fatter beneath him.

He’d had disciplinary encounters with lovers in the past. He’d enjoyed them as part of sensual play, but this was the first time he had reason to worry he might actually come from erotic punishment. Every blow of Sletran’s open palm was as heady as a firm stroke of his hand on Conyod’s cock.

How pathetic would it look if he climaxed all over his lounger, like a teenage boy having his first sexual encounter? Conyod didn’t want Sletran to think him an inexperienced neophyte.

He tried to concentrate on the pain rather than pleasure, but an endorphin rush had kicked in. All he felt was the incredible heat of the spanking, which enticed rather than discouraged excitement. The fact it was Sletran dealing discipline, enjoying him as a man, heightened his eagerness.

His cries had transmuted from shouts of hurt to cries of anticipation and moans of delight. His shafts grew more sensitive, keenly feeling the velvety brush of the lounger. He would definitely come if Sletran swatted his ass much longer.

In the swirl of elated confusion fogging his brain, Conyod found a single word. He seized on it, unable to determine if it would help him or make the situation worse. Either way, it was all he had.

“Please!”

Sletran’s growl answered, accompanied by another smack. “That’s it. Beg me. Tell me you’re naughty.”

Conyod panted as the heat of the spanking made the heaviness in his secondary molten. “Nau-naughty,” he groaned, snatching at the word his tormentor had provided.

“Yeah. Now say you’re sorry.” The bigger man’s hand rained delicious torment on Conyod’s vulnerable ass.

“S-sorry.” The liquid heat was climbing his smaller cock, inching an inexorable trail toward its twin.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me!” Though he’d most assuredly lose it if Sletran did at that moment. Conyod couldn’t tell him so, however. He could only repeat the words he was given as he fought the increasing tide of bliss pushing to his primary.

“Mmm, sounds good. Say it again. Say, ‘fuck me, Sletran.’” The palm kept clapping his ass cheeks in turn.

“Fuck me, Sletran!” Conyod screamed the words in desperation. He was on the brink.

The steady slapping sounds ceased. Sletran rubbed Conyod’s ass, massaging the heat of discipline deep. The Imdiko groaned, impending climax throbbing his shafts, their excitement fed by the pain that was pure pleasure.

“Put your delicious ass in the air. Legs spread. Offer yourself to me.”

Conyod wouldn’t have needed the venom spurring him to obey. He was in the excitingly submissive position before Sletran finished talking, his thighs trembling as they splayed wide.

“That’s it. So beautiful. Look at this hungry little hole, waiting for me to fill it. To fuck it and shoot it full of my cum.”

The sound of the Nobek’s crotch seam purring open made Conyod’s shafts jerk. He’d probably come himself the instant Sletran shoved in. It would be embarrassing, but all he could think of was how he ached for it.

Sletran’s legs, still clad in trousers, wedged between his. The man Conyod had loved for years was about to fuck him. It was an exquisitely erotic moment.

Something hot and slick poked his entrance. Conyod shuddered. His lover felt big. Sletran hadn’t prepared him, hadn’t stretched his tight hole before laying claim.

His tapered tip eased in a couple of inches. Eased out. In again, a little further. Retreated. In, and this time the Nobek’s larger primary slid along the crevice of his crack. Sletran was invading using the smaller secondary. For all his rough play and harsh demands, he was being careful with Conyod.

Calloused palms spread his burning ass cheeks. “I love seeing this. My cock filling your hole while you moan beneath me. I’m so fucking glad you grew up the way you have. So glad.”

Conyod tried to say he was glad too, but it was at that moment Sletran’s shaft slid along his prostate. A jolt of purest pleasure barreled through him, and his cry was an incoherent babble. For a second, he thought he’d come then and there, but Sletran stilled. The surge of heat paused, then retreated.

“Mmm, yeah, clench my cock. Let me feel and hear how you want it. How much you need it.”

He pushed deeper, and heat surged anew. Conyod sobbed his name. He’d imagined this moment for years, had fantasized it was Sletran when he’d slept with others, but he’d never hoped it could be this incredible. It was as if he’d been created for this man, and this man alone.

Sletran’s groin snugged up to his ass, pressing the entirety of his secondary in Conyod. “Good and tight, you beautiful man. You’re going to fuck my cock now. You’ll fuck it, and I’ll watch.”

“Yes,” Conyod managed.

The Nobek moved until only his tip remained in. He swatted Conyod’s ass. “Do it, gorgeous. Fuck me.”

Conyod was eager to obey. He rocked backward, enclosing Sletran’s shaft to the hilt. Forward, shivering at the delicious thrill of his lover’s girth rubbing his hotspot. Back again, groaning his gratitude.

“Oh yeah. Swallow my cock. So fucking good!”

Conyod moved faster, clenching his ass for Sletran’s pleasure, which meant more to him than his own. He would have continued for the entire night, ignoring his own clamoring urges, had Sletran commanded it.

He gloried in his long-awaited lover’s groans and sighs of bliss, in how he clenched Conyod’s ass, then his hips. Sletran began to thrust, meeting Conyod’s backswings so their flesh met in meaty smacks. Their gasps and grunts were bestial, the ancient primitive song of men fucking hard.

Sletran abruptly pulled free, leaving Conyod achingly empty. The Imdiko began to cry out from loss, but a thicker invader took the secondary’s place. Sletran yanked Conyod’s hips, driving at the same instant to fill him with merciless lust. Conyod shouted at the exciting clamor of mingled pain and rapture as he was taken.

“Fuck!” Sletran shouted. “Don’t come yet, Conyod. Hold on…just…wait until after…I want to…”

Whatever it was he wished to do was lost in an animal growl. He rutted like a man gone mad, the noises he made telling the Imdiko he was closing in on the end.

Conyod was also racing for the finish line, passion fed by the constant friction against his prostate. In desperation, he reached for his larger shaft and clenched its base in his fist. The molten fire of release was stopped there, and he offered a thin shriek between clenched teeth to reject its heaven.

Sletran’s rhythm stuttered. “Yes! Here it is…ah, ah, ah!”

His cock jerked in Conyod. Heat filled him as the Nobek’s seed erupted. In the midst of his agony of unfulfillment, Conyod wished he could see his lover’s face as he experienced climax.

Sletran continued pumping for several seconds until his moans settled to sighs. He stilled, his hands restlessly rubbing Conyod’s ass, thighs, and lower back.

He pulled out and rolled the Imdiko on his back. Conyod stared at Sletran, who loomed tall between his legs. The other man’s cocks were still erect, but there was only satisfaction on his rugged features. The sight gave Conyod his own sense of gratification.

“How close are you?” Sletran asked him.

“Close.” But since Sletran had stopped fucking him silly, Conyod was no longer on the brink…though it wouldn’t take much to return him there.

“Hold out for a while longer. Long enough for me to get a taste of those gorgeous cocks.” Sletran sank to his knees next to the lounger and pulled Conyod so he could drape his legs on his shoulders. He settled enough weight so Conyod was pinned beneath him. He inhaled the spicy scent of the Imdiko’s arousal. “Fuck yeah, I want to gobble these. You smell sweeter than most men I’ve been with. Here, let me.”

He shoved Conyod’s hand aside to grip the root of his primary so he couldn’t come. The next instant, his mouth enveloped the Imdiko’s secondary, right to the base.

Conyod arched and shouted as a flood of cum vainly fought to get past the firm grasp damming him. His fists pounded the lounger as Sletran’s head bobbed over him. The Nobek’s rough tongue slid along the big vein on the underside of Conyod’s length, sending shockwaves of violent delight shuddering through him.

Sletran didn’t merely suck his cocks. He devoured them, moving from smaller to primary, then back, over and over. He slurped and swallowed the natural lubricant flowing from Conyod’s pores in unembarrassed enthusiasm. He gave no sign he noticed how the Imdiko kicked or when he pulled his long curls or how he shoved against his shoulders as lust became unbearable.

Sletran’s grip keeping Conyod from erupting was unyielding, and the pressure drove the pinned man insane. He squalled and begged and cursed as Sletran fed on his passion but refused to allow its true expression. Then, just as he thought his mind would break from Sletran relentlessly sucking his primary, the Nobek loosened his clutch.

Orgasm swept through Conyod, and his sight went blinding white. Molten heat poured and poured in the mouth drawing on him in what felt like an unending flood. He knew nothing but the violent fury of release and the sweet pressure of hand and mouth on his cocks, emptying him.

Little by little, he returned to his senses. His vision cleared in time to watch Sletran carefully lower his legs from the Nobek’s shoulders, so his feet rested on the floor. His lover stood and stripped his clothing off at last. Despite having come so hard, Conyod’s still thrumming and erect shafts offered a twitch.

Sletran was pure muscle, from corded neck to carved calves. The few scars he sported enhanced Conyod’s attraction to the physical perfection he’d only guessed at. There was nothing soft or giving about his hero, save the warmth in his eyes as he gazed at Conyod.

“While you’re still erect,” Sletran said as he knelt on the lounger, his knees straddling Conyod’s hips. He lowered and enclosed the Imdiko’s primary in his lusciously tight ass.

“Fuck,” Conyod groaned. Lust had been diminished significantly, but the kick he felt in his groin told him it wouldn’t be sated for long.

“That’s what’s fun about you younger guys,” Sletran chuckled, moving up and down on him. “You’re easy to keep hard and make come a second time in a hurry. I should be ready to fuck you again by the time you’ve finished Round Two. It’ll be a nice leisurely fuck, so I can enjoy you the way such a gorgeous Imdiko should be enjoyed.”

“No…no argument,” Conyod gasped. He did tend to recover rather quickly, but Sletran was waking his lust in record time. Or maybe it was because he’d dreamed of this night for so many years. He hoped it wouldn’t be their sole night together, but he had every intention of making it count in case…

No. He couldn’t think like that. The idea of Sletran turning away after finally granting Conyod the closeness he craved was too awful.

Then give him what it takes to keep him close. Even if it means starting with just lust, make sure he wants to stick around beyond tonight.

Conyod fell to worshipping the man who’d rescued him from the nightmare of his childhood and adolescence, his tongue and fingers tracing those mesmerizing lines and bulges of the other man’s impressive physique. As Sletran rose and fell on him, he closed his fist around his engorged primary…the Nobek recovered quick as well, it seemed…and pumped the hot flesh. Sletran voiced his pleasure in groans for a little while, then grabbed Conyod’s wrists and pinned them to the back of the lounger, on either side of the Imdiko’s head.

The control excited Conyod. He gazed at his lover, his vision blurred as need increased. Then Sletran’s lips were on his, his tongue sweeping Conyod’s mouth as if claiming him.

You did that ages ago. I’ve been yours for years.

He watched in pure love as Sletran moved over him, those entrancing muscles rippling in a dance as he worked to bring him to the physical expression of his adoration. He cried out minutes later when bliss flowed from himself to the Nobek, allowing him to merge intimately with the other man.

Let it last. Oh please, let this continue.

When his cocks ceased jerking, Sletran sighed. “You’re a beautiful man, more so when you come. I could watch you do it again and again.” A devilish grin spread over his face. “So I will. Where’s the sleeping room? Never mind, I’ll find it.”

He picked up the loose-limbed Conyod, hefting him on his shoulder. The Nobek carried him through his home. In such a small apartment, it didn’t take him long to locate the bedroom, much to their mutual delight. When they finally let sleep claim them, they did so wrapped in each other’s arms.

* * * *

He needed a hero and found two. Can love rescue him again?

Nobek Sletran never took Imdiko Conyod’s infatuation seriously when he rescued him years before. When Conyod shows up in his life again as a strong and successful man instead of a traumatized victim, Sletran has to reconsider the one he once rejected and now can’t imagine life without.

Conyod has never given up on the man he considers his hero. Sletran is all he’s ever wanted for a clanmate, and he’s determined to win him at last. But the past refuses to be laid to rest. When Conyod convinces Sletran to see him for who he’s become, will who he was resurface and destroy the love they’re building?

Sletran’s commanding officer Dramok Erybet is instantly fascinated by Conyod when the soldier brings his love on base for a visit. However, Sletran isn’t the Nobek Erybet feels is right for him. When he rejects the Nobek, he risks losing Conyod too.

Against the backdrop of heartbreaking childhood tragedy, a ghost who haunts Conyod and his grief-stricken family, and military brass determined to oust Erybet from the rank he’s worked so hard to reach, three men must come to terms with who they are. When tragedy strikes, the nightmares of the past must be faced and buried once and for all. Conyod, Sletran, and Erybet must dare everything to find redemption and hold on to each other.

Releasing May 31.  Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Apple, Kobo, Smashwords, print