Lover, Destroyer

by Sionnach Wintergreen

  Then it invaded Elarhe’s hole. It was so muscular and wet. Kite’s teeth pressed on Elarhe’s tailbone. His tongue moved up and down, excited and strong, like a bear eating a honeycomb. Somehow, it found Elarhe’s prostate and wrung cries from Elarhe’s body.

  Elarhe spouted a generous amount of precum into Kite’s fingers. Kite withdrew his hand. Elarhe heard him spit. Dizzy with pleasure, Elarhe sank to his elbows. Kite smacked his ass hard enough to dance Elarhe’s balls about. He spanked Elarhe with firm, hard strikes of his open palm and long fingers.

  Elarhe endured the harsh treatment. Almost welcomed it. The bright pain let him know he still lived.

  And then the stout head of Kite’s cock rammed into his wet hole. It felt too hot, too big. Elarhe hung his head and bit his lips together. As much as it hurt, he wanted Kite’s cock inside him.

  Kite slowed down, changed his angle slightly. He dipped deeper, then deeper. Elarhe wondered how much of him there was. He felt like he was being filled up with cock. Then he felt Kite’s short pubic hairs against his crack.

  In one quick motion, Kite pulled almost all of the way out. He pounded into Elarhe, over and over, his balls slamming into Elarhe’s with a delicious pain. Elarhe tilted his pelvis to take Kite as deep as possible. He surrendered completely to Kite’s cock. He huffed as it beat mercilessly against his walls. He couldn’t catch his breath. It thudded deep inside him, battering him in a way that flooded his entire being with white-hot light.

  He suddenly became aware of Kite reaching beneath him and tugging on his cock. The sensation sent him into a shuddering paroxysm of joy. He came and came and felt hot jets of cum against his walls.

  When Kite pulled out, Elarhe toppled over on his side, panting, slick with sweat and cum. Kite, with the gentleness of a kitten, kissed him softly all over, dragging the tip of his nose over Elarhe’s skin. His hole, his perineum, his ass cheeks, the balls of his feet. He kissed Elarhe’s taut belly and licked cum from his navel. He kissed his knuckles, his elbows, his throat. He finished with Elarhe’s lips, treating them with the same reverent kindness as he had the rest of Elarhe’s body.

  “You, Squirrel, are too beautiful for words.”

  “I think I like you, too.”

  A hurt expression flitted across Kite’s face, but then he laughed. “So be it.”

  Chapter 7

  Kite stood and pulled Elarhe into his arms. With a slight grunt, he swept him off his feet. Elarhe giggled like a little boy. He wrapped his arms around Kite’s neck and kissed his square jaw hinge.

  “You’re going to bed now, Squirrel.”

  As the mage carried him up the winding staircase, Elarhe nuzzled Kite’s face, enjoying the scrape of Kite’s stubble against his nose. He breathed in Kite’s scent, felt Kite’s muscles bulge against him. His head swam with happiness. This was perfect. All of it was perfect.

  They drifted down a dark hallway. Kite paused at a door, kicked it open, and carried Elarhe into open darkness. He tossed Elarhe into the air. For a moment, fear gripped Elarhe’s heart. Then he sank onto a plush feather mattress. Velvet blankets greeted his outstretched hands. When he pulled the blankets aside, he found silken sheets beneath them.

  Kite stood in the doorway, an inky figure silhouetted against a layer of slightly brighter darkness. “I trust everything is to your satisfaction?”

  Elarhe sighed and writhed in pure delight on the bed. “Quite.”

  The door closed. Elarhe laughed weakly. Kite had a strange sense of humor. He heard the floor creak as Kite moved down the hall. Elarhe sat up. “Kite!”

  Kite ran to the door and swung it open. “Squirrel?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Kite sighed as if he were being difficult. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to bed.”

  Elarhe shuffled the covers with his feet. “We aren’t sleeping together?”

  “No,” said Kite firmly, “we’re not.”

  Elarhe pouted. “I want to sleep with you.”

  “I sleep alone. Always.”

  “I want to snuggle.” It had sounded more petulant than he intended, but it had voiced his feelings perfectly.

  “Don’t act like a spoiled child. You can’t always have your way.” With that, Kite shut the door and stamped off down the hall.

  Elarhe lay in a confused huff. Kite had strange, old-fashioned ideas about everything. Maybe this was just more of that. Still, he couldn’t help feeling cheated as he pulled the covers up to his neck and hugged one of the overstuffed feather pillows. However nice the pillow was, it wasn’t Kite. He longed to hold the enigmatic man in his arms and drift off to sleep with him.

  As sleep began to take him, he thought of Rabbit’s green aura. The healer had been a green mage. If he could ever become a green mage, would he be able to wield such magic?

  ***

  Elarhe woke to the sound of wood against metal. He sat up. Sunlight streamed through a slit in the dark curtains. He blinked in amazement. He had dreamed he was back home, at his palace in Ayklinn. The décor that met his eyes was stunning enough to have been in such a place. “Kite,” he murmured.

  “Ah, you’re awake!” A woman, stooped over the hearth, turned her pale face to him. She smiled at him with utter delight, as if she recognized him.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

  She turned back to the fireplace to adjust a log. The fire blazed to life. She wiped her hands on her snowy apron as she smiled around at him. “I’m the housekeeper, Goose, but we just met. I heard you had quite the night.”

  Heat rose in Elarhe’s cheeks. What had she heard, exactly?

  “The streets can be cruel,” she said gently. She pulled a large brass tub from a corner and dragged it out before the fire. “Kite is still surveying the grounds, but he told me to see to your bath and breakfast.” She smoothed her hands down her apron as she stood to her full height. Tall with large arms and ice blonde hair pulled back into a severe, braided bun, she looked like she should be spearing deer on the tundra bare-breasted. Her quiet voice and polite demeanor, however, seemed perfectly suited to a housekeeper.

  A knock at the door surprised Elarhe. Goose noticed, for she moved toward him, waving a hand down as if to comfort him. “It’s all right, Squirrel. It’s just Mole with your breakfast.”

  “Is he awake?!” Mole shrilled from behind the door.

  “Yes,” Elarhe answered, feeling embarrassed. “Come in.”

  A hunchbacked woman dressed all in brown bustled into the room carrying a great silver tray laden with food. Mole leered at him as she set the tray on his lap. She whispered an aside to Goose, “Oh, I do like this one.”

  Elarhe cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

  Goose shot Mole a reprimanding look, which Mole didn’t catch because she was gazing lovingly at Elarhe while he squeezed lemon in his tea. “Kite doesn’t keep a full staff, Squirrel,” said Goose, an apology in her voice. “Cooks would normally be in the kitchen, cooking, not ogling our guests.”

  Mole rounded on her with her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t ogling. I was just looking. Just admiring.” A broad smile spread across her ruddy features as she looked again at Elarhe. “He’s very well put together. Very easy on the eyes.” The twin auburn buns on either side of her head made it seem even wider than it was. “I’m Mole. As she said, I’m the cook. If you need anything, sweetmeat, let me know. I’ll prepare anything you like.”

  “Squirrel,” Goose hissed behind her. “His name’s Squirrel.”

  Mole grunted. “Squirrel. Looks more like a Lion.” She flicked her pudgy fingers in the air just short of Elarhe’s locks. “With a gorgeous mane.”

  Elarhe bit into the buttery blueberry muffin on his tray. His mouth ached for a moment—it had been so long since he had eaten real food. He wanted to inhale the entire muffin. “This is the most fantastic thing I have ever tasted.”

  Mole drew back with an amused expression. “That’s a simple breakfast muffin. Kite
said not to feed you much at first. Just wait until you see what I can truly do! Nothing but the best for you, little lion.”

  “Squirrel,” said Goose, fussing. “His name is Squirrel.”

  Elarhe sampled a piece of moist cheese. “You can call me whatever you want.”

  Goose arranged a sheet in the brass tub. “Mind that you don’t eat too fast. Best to start eating again slowly.”

  Mole nodded. “Poor thing’s been starved. Don’t you worry, Lion, I’ll have you up to full roar in no time!”

  “Squirrel!” Goose spat it this time. “Call him by his name, Mole.”

  Mole leaned toward Elarhe, as if speaking to him in confidence. “That ain’t your name, is it, child?”

  “It is now,” he whispered.

  Goose left the room with a snort, and Mole winked at Elarhe. “You must be very special,” said Mole. “The lord often brings home young men, but they rarely stay the night, and never more than that. He says you’re here to stay with us. Says we’re to treat you as if you were him. That’s lofty, ain’t it? Lofty and then some.”

  Elarhe had no idea what to say to that. He nodded and sipped his tea. Mole grinned and bid him good day. She was gone before his brain could form a question.

  ***

  Elarhe bathed and dressed. He shaved the scruff he had acquired while on the streets when shaving had become a difficult prospect. Feeling more like himself than he had in weeks, he explored the hallway. All of the doors were locked. He made his way down the magnificent, winding staircase. Where portraits of ancestors might have hung, surveying new generations, were bare walls. The downstairs was stranger still. Every stick of furniture—even some things he thought were sculptures, were covered by drop clothes. He might have thought Kite was having masonry or painting done, but the clothes were covered by a thick layer of dust. Even stranger, it seemed every door Elarhe encountered was locked.

  Elarhe explored the castle as best as he could, but it seemed as intimidating inside as out. Every window, even the high small ones, was covered. Finally, he discovered the kitchen and found Mole. He felt relieved to see a friendly face.

  Mole squealed with delight when she saw him. “Why, look at you! All dressed up and walking about! You’re taller than I would have thought.”

  He chuckled, feeling suddenly self-conscious in Kite’s clothes. Goose had pinned up the trousers, and he knew the shirt was longer and roomier than it should have been. He looked around the kitchen. A small cluster of flames crackled in a hearth made for a monstrous fire. Aside from Mole, the great kitchen was empty. “Are you the only one here?”

  “That I am,” said Mole, almost proudly. “I look after the whole kitchen myself.”

  Elarhe remembered Goose saying that Kite didn’t keep a full staff. “Are you and Goose the only ones here? Besides Kite?”

  “There are the dogs.”

  “Right. I’ve met the dogs.”

  Mole laughed. “The dogs must have liked you. You’re still in one piece.”

  “As far as I know.” Elarhe grinned at her. “But, truly, it’s just you, Goose, and Kite? In this big castle?”

  “Just us, Ferret, the groom, Wren, the driver, and Toad, the footman.” Mole returned to rolling out dough with a great rolling pin.

  “Why is everything covered up?”

  Mole glanced up at him, then returned to her rolling. “Because ‘tis. That’s why.”

  Elarhe sat with that for a moment. “Fair enough. But there are no portraits. Did he have a falling out with his family?”

  “The lord has no family. There’s only him. It’s always been so.”

  “Squirrel!”

  Elarhe nearly jumped out of his baggy clothes. “Goose! You startled me.”

  Goose turned her cold frown to Mole. “He isn’t supposed to be down here.”

  Mole shrugged. “I’m not his sheriff.”

  Goose sighed a short, impatient sigh. She smiled, rather unconvincingly, at Elarhe. “The lord prefers you to stay in your room today. You are to rest and recover until he returns.”

  “When will he return?”

  Mole grunted. “She’s not his sheriff.”

  “He’ll return when he’s ready. He always does. Now, off you go.”

  “I’m not tired. Rabbit healed me. I want to explore. As I’m to stay here, I would like to know more about the place.” And more about the man who owns it.

  “All in due time. Let’s go upstairs now.” Goose motioned him toward the great double doors.

  “No…thank you. I prefer to stay here.” He winked at Mole. “The company’s quite pleasant.”

  Mole’s eyes twinkled with merriment. Goose, however, was not amused. “With all due respect, Squirrel, you’re not the lord of this castle.”

  “But I thought you were to treat me as you would him?”

  Goose looked a little gray. “Yes. He said that. But he also left firm instructions that you were to stay in your room today.” She wrung her hands. “Please. Let’s not upset him. Bad things happen when he’s upset.”

  Mole’s cheer noticeably dampened. “You should probably go to your room, child. It’s true what she says. He has a temper.”

  Elarhe sighed. “Very well. I shall do what pleases him today. I’m not staying in that room all day tomorrow. I’m not a prisoner.”

  Mole opened her mouth, but a sharp look from Goose silenced her. She waved a floured hand at Elarhe. He waved back as Goose pulled one of the great doors open and herded him away.

  ***

  That evening, Elarhe sat in the dining room at one end of a long table that seemed to have been unveiled and set just for him. Everything else in the room was still covered with tarps and dust. He sat by himself, for Goose had informed him that Kite would be out late doing research.

  Elarhe ate in silence, feeling alone and strange.

  ***

  After dinner, Elarhe tried to explore the castle some more, but Goose wouldn’t unlock any of the rooms. He wanted to go outside, but the rain beat down in torrents. Goose suggested he go to his room and sleep.

  Elarhe didn’t want to sleep. Instead, he moped about the hallways, pacing and sighing. Finally, he found his way down to the kitchen again and ended up playing shells and stones with Mole.

  Mole cackled as she captured his last stone. “Are you letting me win? Are you even trying?”

  Elarhe scratched his head, stifling a grin. “I let you win the first one. I’ve been fighting for my life ever since. You’re a hard woman, Mole.”

  One of the great doors flew open behind him, its hinges screeching. Elarhe turned, expecting to see Goose, but found Kite striding toward him. “What are you doing down here!” boomed Kite.

  Chapter 8

  Elarhe fought a cringe. Kite’s loud voice in the large stone room reverberated like thunder. Elarhe cleared his throat. He had done nothing wrong. “I’m playing a game.”

  Kite glared at him. His short ash brown hair was dark with rain, and his pale blue eyes flashed in his stony face. “Are you playing a game, Squirrel?”

  Mole piped up, her voice squeaking slightly. “Shells and stones, m’lord. I’m beating the stuffing out of him.”

  Kite turned on her. She quailed under his stern stare. Elarhe’s chest tightened. Why was Kite so angry?

  Then, something odd happened. Kite laughed. It erupted out of him in giant guffaws. He held his midsection and collapsed into one of the plain kitchen chairs. All of the anger, all of the energy seemed to drain out of him along with the laughter. Elbows on the table, he sank over it and held his head in his hands.

  Mole quickly fetched him a round of hot cider. Elarhe peered at him, uncertain. Kite seemed to feel Elarhe’s eyes on him; he looked up and confronted Elarhe with a small, tired smile. He looked, Elarhe realized then, incredibly fatigued.

  Kite snorted as Mole set the cider beside him. “You’re an evil old hag, Mole.”

  “You’re most welcome, m’lord.” Mole said it with a hint of sarcasm.r />
  Elarhe held his breath, but Kite’s mouth turned up at one corner as he eyed the old hunchback askance. “But of course,” he said and sipped his cider.

  A strange silence ensued. Elarhe didn’t understand any of this. One minute, Mole seemed afraid of Kite. The next, they were joking. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing in the castle, nothing about his odd situation with this strange, albeit handsome man—made any sense. “Where were you?” Elarhe asked finally. He was genuinely curious, but his frustration made the question come out with a bit of a pout.

  One of Kite’s eyebrows arched. “I was doing some research, if you must know.”

  Elarhe couldn’t help himself. “You left me here all day.”

  Kite’s blue eyes twinkled. “You had Mole and Goose for company.”

  “We were very good company, m’lord,” Mole put in. Elarhe couldn’t tell if her obsequiousness was real or feigned.

  In any case, Kite ignored her, his vivid gaze on Elarhe alone. Elarhe held his stare. “I could have come with you.”

  Something strange crossed Kite’s chiseled face. For an instant, he seemed on the verge of tears. He looked away from Elarhe and took a great swig of cider. Without looking up, he said, “I thought, perhaps, I needed only proper motivation for the solution to become apparent. All day I searched, but it eludes me still.”

  Mole slid from her chair and crept away, disappearing behind the brick oven in the center of the huge kitchen. Elarhe blinked at Kite in confusion. “Perhaps I could help.”

  Kite chuckled. He wiped one big hand over his face and laughed some more. He glanced up at Elarhe and grinned hugely. “Oh, you’re serious.”

  “I enjoy reading a great deal. I would be more than happy to help.”

  Mole set a plate of some sort of legumes and a crusty roll in front of Kite. Kite nodded at her and tore a piece off of the roll. Mole smiled at him warmly, with what seemed a genuine affection, and disappeared behind the stove again. Kite looked over at Elarhe. “You’re easily the most beautiful boy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  Elarhe rolled his eyes. “No doubt, you’ve said that a thousand times.”