Lover, Destroyer

by Sionnach Wintergreen

  “Yes.” Elarhe trapped Kite’s hand in both of his own. “Very much.”

  “Then I will learn to like them again.”

  ***

  Every day, while Kite disappeared, Elarhe restored one of the castle’s rooms. Goose helped, but she finally realized that he enjoyed polishing the wood and clearing the cobwebs and let him do most of it. Bit by bit, the castle began to come alive. Elarhe delighted in every aspect of it.

  One day, as he was reorganizing the castle library, he happened to pull a sconce and discovered a hidden room. Elarhe brought a candle into the dark room. He carefully lit the man-sized candle stands he found inside. His breath caught as the flames illuminated the room and its contents.

  On one wall, a truncheon, a cane, a cat o’nine tails, and several sizes of wooden paddles hung from hooks. They were displayed around a curled bull whip with a wicked-looking tail. A high, padded bench stood in the center of the room. In one corner, shackles adorned a wooden stand that reminded him of a person with arms and legs outstretched. On another wall hung several masks and huge carved bones, some with tails of horsehair attached. Shackles dangled from chains set in the rafters. More hung from ornate hooks around the room.

  Elarhe stalked around the room, touching things, testing them, introducing himself to them. His cock hardened, but he felt breathless and confused. This was Kite’s dungeon. This must have been where he took his whores.

  However excited Elarhe felt caressing the knots of the bullwhip’s tail, he didn’t want to be treated like that. He felt the power of the equipment—almost like magic. The tools sang to him with lust, made promises, whispered threats. His skin pricked at the thought of being in this room alone with Kite. He wanted to shackle Kite to the wooden stand and try out the room’s wealth of instruments on his naked flesh.

  But what did Kite want? What did he truly want? He remembered the whore telling him Kite had strange appetites. Kite liked it rough—that much was certain.

  Elarhe fondled a studded leather collar hanging from a peg near the cage. He felt a sudden stab of jealousy. He didn’t want to submit to anything Kite’s hirelings had, but he envied them for being able to satisfy Kite.

  He left the room feeling confused and peculiar. Kite had enjoyed the riding crop. Would he submit to Elarhe, as the whores had submitted to him? Would Kite play the part of the prisoner in his own dungeon?

  ***

  Elarhe smiled as Kite flopped down on the bed beside him. The fourth time had done him in. The big man lay on his side, staring wearily at Elarhe’s face. He stroked Elarhe’s damp hair off his forehead and blew him a kiss.

  Elarhe reached over and kneaded the back of his neck. Kite gave a satisfied groan. Elarhe snickered and started rubbing Kite’s stomach. He enjoyed its hard rippling muscles. Kite moaned in contentment. His eye blinks lengthened until they shut and didn’t open again.

  A little thrill of excitement shot through Elarhe’s body. They would spend the night as a proper couple and Kite would realize they could sleep together. Kite’s muscles relaxed beneath Elarhe’s hand. He looked so peaceful, so sweet. Elarhe fell in love with him all over again.

  Kite’s eyes flew open. He sucked a quick breath and bolted up. “No!” he cried, leaping out of the bed and stumbling backward as if Elarhe were a venomous snake. He slipped and fell, cracking the back of his head on the dressing table.

  Elarhe pounced beside him. “Kite!” Blood, black in the candlelight, pooled on the floor.

  Chapter 12

  “Goose!” Elarhe howled. “Gooooose! Help! Please! Help!”

  Treasure shrilled and flew to her cage. Kite’s eyelids fluttered open. “What am I doing on the damned floor?”

  Elarhe stroked his face. “You fell.” He dragged a sheet from the bed and covered Kite’s genitals with it for modesty’s sake.

  The door burst open. Goose appeared in her nightgown, her long hair down and her eyes wide. “Squirrel?”

  “He slipped and fell. He hit his head and he’s bleeding!”

  Goose ran to Kite’s side, setting the candelabra she carried on the floor beside him. “Oh, no! Lord Kite!” Despite the shock and horror in her voice, it only came out in a whisper.

  “Damned floor,” Kite grumbled. He attempted to rise, then sank woozily back down. “All the fucks.”

  Goose bunched up an end of her nightgown and held it to Kite’s head. “Mole! I need bandages!”

  Elarhe held Kite’s hand and felt helpless. “How badly is he hurt?”

  “Stop this fussing, both of you. I’m fine,” said Kite, bleeding all over Goose’s nightgown.

  “Head wounds tend to bleed profusely. I think it looks worse than it is. He’ll have a nasty bump, but he should be well enough with some rest. Did he lose consciousness?”

  “For a moment.”

  “Keep him awake for a while. Sometimes, after a blow to the head, one will fall asleep and never wake up.”

  “He would want me to keep him awake anyway. He won’t sleep around me.”

  Goose gave him a pitying look. “He’s not an easy man….”

  Mole loped in, bandages flying from her hands. She gaped when she saw the scene. “Kite’s hurt? I thought these were for you, little one.”

  Goose cut her eyes at Mole and snatched the bandages from her. With deft hands, she wound them around Kite’s head. “Help me move him to the bed,” she told Elarhe. Together, they heaved Kite onto the mattress.

  Kite growled at them. “There’s no need for this.” He whimpered as his head touched the pillow.

  They rolled him onto his side. Goose rubbed Kite’s arm. “Squirrel’s going to look after you. You call if you need anything.”

  Mole waddled through the door carrying a tray. Elarhe hadn’t realized she had left until he saw her return. “A bladder of water from the cold spring for his noggin.” She laid the bladder against the back of Kite’s head. Kite made a soft, pathetic sound. Mole bit her lower lip, locking eyes with Elarhe.

  “Goose says he’s going to be fine.”

  Mole gave a relieved sigh. “Here’s some toasted bread and some butter.” She looked at Elarhe. “M’lord likes toast when he isn’t feeling well.” She set a flowered tea pot down on the end table. “And this is tea because tea makes everything better. You boys have cups?”

  Elarhe nodded at the empty goblets. “We do. Thank you, Mole.”

  “Take good care of him.” She smiled at them and left, leaving the door cracked open.

  Elarhe looked at the door, wondering. However much Goose and Mole seemed to fear Kite, their affection for him was obvious. Their reactions to his injury had almost been motherly.

  “Goose said you would take care of me. Not stare off into space.”

  He smirked and turned his attention to Kite. He caressed Kite’s cheek. “Better.”

  “Quite.”

  “Good.”

  Kite closed his eyes.

  “I’m supposed to keep you awake.” He shook Kite gently.

  “Ow.”

  “Are you awake?”

  “Yes.” Kite yawned. “I want to go to my own bed.”

  “Not for a while. I’m supposed to watch you and keep you awake.”

  “Oh? And how do you propose to do that?”

  “Um…I’m going to sing to you.”

  “Won’t that put me to sleep?”

  “I don’t think so.” Most of the songs he knew were in Ayklinnish, but the men had often sung songs while burying the plague victims. He launched into a particularly rousing one. “One day a man, a fine young man, he rode to the forest dark and fey, he pulled a wagon brown and gray. Hey diddle doh my black rose!”

  Kite squinted at him. “Squirrel….”

  “The man, that man, that very fine man, he chanced upon a drag-on. Heave ho! Heave ho! That beast did go, as lo, it fucked the wag-on!”

  Kite put up a hand for silence.

  “There’s more. Lots more.”

  “Please.”

  Ela
rhe stopped.

  Kite stared at him for a moment. “Squirrel. That song is insipid and you sing terribly.”

  Elarhe grinned. “I sing terribly?”

  “Off key and flat and just…bad. Very, very bad.”

  “But you haven’t heard about the dragon’s boogers.”

  “Spare me.”

  Elarhe huffed. “I’m supposed to keep you awake.”

  “I’ll be fine if I sleep in my room.” He started to rise, but sank back down. He gave Elarhe an embarrassed wince. “Perhaps I’ll stay here.”

  Elarhe settled the bladder back on Kite’s head. “It’s not your rule this time—it’s Goose’s.”

  “Goose is such a mother hen.”

  “Wouldn’t she be a mother goose?”

  Kite moaned. “Don’t do that, either.”

  “Did you see how they fussed over you? They love you.”

  “They wouldn’t want to have to drag my dead body downstairs.”

  “I’m sure they’d get Wren and Ferret for that. And I’d help, of course.” The idea sent a chill down his spine. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not dying, and they were just worried about you because they care. Is it so hard to believe anyone cares about you?”

  Kite was silent for a moment. He held Elarhe’s gaze. “I pay them very well.”

  “Kite!”

  “At least twice what they would be paid normally.”

  Elarhe rolled over on his back. “You’re incorrigible. You are, truly, a difficult man.”

  After a moment or two of silence, Kite sighed. “Maybe it’s because I helped them. I found Mole being made to haul boulders. Children were pelting her with rocks. I frightened them away, bought her freedom, and offered her a job working for me.” He scoffed. “And poor Goose. Some horrid man who claimed to love her was beating her with a cane. I stopped him.”

  “Did you kill him?” The memory of the hateful boy’s tarry eyes made Elarhe shiver.

  “No. I had my driver have a go at him.”

  “Why didn’t you fight him?”

  “I might have slipped and used my power. Also he was flabby man with a fat ass. Even without my power, it wouldn’t have been fair. My driver, you remember Wren, right? He’s a scrawny thing, but what a scrapper! He put that asshole in his place. Men who strike women are cowards, all of them. Wren and Goose are married now. Did you know?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Elarhe grinned. “No wonder they like you.”

  In a rather small voice, Kite said, “Maybe they like me. A little.”

  Elarhe wanted to tell Kite that he liked him quite a bit, but he only petted Kite’s big arm. “You’re likable,” he said gently, tracing Kite’s muscles. “The person you hide behind your bluster and the walls of this castle is infinitely so.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t do this to me. Don’t do that—whatever that is.”

  “Kite….”

  “I’m trapped. It isn’t fair.” His eyes became glassy. “I’m hurt, and you’re taking advantage.”

  Elarhe bit his lips together. He caressed Kite’s high cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. “I never mean to cause you pain, Kite. Please know that.”

  “I don’t want to talk about me.”

  “Very well. What would you like to talk about? Or I could sing some more.”

  Kite gave him a dangerous look. “No singing. Why don’t you tell me a story?”

  Elarhe laughed. “What kind of story?”

  “Something from your childhood. Or your travels. I don’t know.”

  “Very well.” So Elarhe told him the story of the ugly dragon, then the fable of the lonely fisherman, and the tale of the old woman with seven goats and seven cats. As he spoke, Treasure eased out of her cage. She sat on the tray, helping herself to the toast and watching them. After he had run out of stories, Elarhe told Kite what the old stargazer had said, about there being other versions of their lives.

  “Do you think that’s true?” Kite asked softly.

  Elarhe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I would like it to be.”

  “Me, too. My best friend died on the way here. I like to think that he’s still alive somewhere, in some different world—even if I’m absent from it.”

  Kite reached out and brushed a fingertip over the tear that slid down Elarhe’s cheek. “You have the sweetest heart.”

  Elarhe wrapped a leg over Kite’s torso and planted a soft, childlike kiss on his lips. Kite responded in kind. They kissed gently, slowly, with lips as soft as a summer rain.

  Kite groaned. “I want you.” His voice was hoarse with desire. “But I don’t think I’m up to taking you. My head aches when I move.”

  “Be still.” Elarhe flicked his tongue across Kite’s parted lips. “Let me take care of you.”

  Chapter 13

  As Kite lay on his side, Elarhe kissed down Kite’s handsome chest, his muscular abdomen, then licked his pleasure trail until he reached the brown ruff around Kite’s cock. He gently moved Kite’s leg aside and mouthed up Kite’s cock to his glans. He squeezed it between his jaws, being careful to cloak his teeth.

  Kite made happy noises. Elarhe sucked Kite’s cock, trying to take the whole thing into his mouth. He gulped it, took it down his throat. Still, he couldn’t quite make it.

  “Just concentrate on the head,” said Kite.

  Elarhe stifled a growl. He hated when Kite gave him directions. He gagged, then gagged again.

  “The head,” said Kite, more forcefully this time.

  Elarhe gnawed on Kite’s head, scraping the frills of the big glans with his teeth.

  “Ow.” Kite’s hips flinched away from Elarhe. He must have bumped his head, for he suddenly grabbed it and let fly a string of curses.

  “Are you all right?” Elarhe was genuinely concerned.

  “I thought you were going to take care of me.”

  Elarhe couldn’t tell if Kite’s eyes were glassy from pain or emotion. Either way, he felt terribly guilty. “I will,” he said softly. He danced his fingertips along Kite’s groin. “I promise.”

  Kite heaved a deep breath. He rested his face back on the pillow. Elarhe sucked Kite’s glans with hard, teeth-covered slurps. He cupped Kite’s balls and tumbled them gently. Kite rumbled with a deep satisfaction.

  Elarhe worked Kite’s cock with his hand and bent to tend Kite’s hole. It tasted clean and slightly peaty. It reminded him vaguely of aged whiskey. He licked Kite’s rim with little flicks of his tongue, nuzzling Kite’s crack and enjoying his musk. He fished his tongue inside in short, quick bursts, like a serpent. He wanted to make Kite feel good, but he didn’t think his tongue would reach Kite’s prostate.

  He sat up for a moment and had an idea. He reached over and grabbed the butter off of the tray. Kite stirred. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Taking care of you.” He smeared butter all over his hand.

  “Squirrel.” Kite sounded a little desperate. “My head aches.”

  “But your ass is fine.” He buttered his wrist and forearm.

  “Don’t do this right now. Later—we can play later.”

  “I’m going to make you forget about your head.” He pushed his buttery fingers into Kite’s freshly buttered hole. He was up to his wrist in a matter of moments.

  Kite gritted his teeth. “All the gods damn you, Squirrel. You rancid little bitch.”

  Elarhe scoffed. “Give it a moment. You’ll feel better. You liked it last time.”

  “I wasn’t hurt last time.”

  “I keep telling you, nothing’s wrong with your ass.” He nudged Kite’s wall with his knuckles. “But I can make something wrong with it if you want.”

  “You fucking bitch.” Kite whimpered.

  Elarhe tapped against Kite’s wall gently, as if he were rocking a cradle. He pulled Kite’s cock with a firm grip, kneading the frills of his glans. Kite moaned and pushed against him. “All the gods,” he whispered.

>   Elarhe thudded against him a bit harder, keeping his movements methodical and slow. Kite’s cheeks puffed. His ass squeezed around Elarhe’s hand. Elarhe’s other hand was coated with sticky precum. Kite gasped and spewed cum in thin white gouts, their earlier love making had taken a toll on his cum. Elarhe slipped free and moved to Kite’s shoulders. Kite trembled. His arms were covered in gooseflesh. Elarhe rubbed his arms and held him.

  Kite pulled him over and kissed his face. Elarhe crawled over the rest of the way and laid his head on Kite’s arm, staring up at him. Kite stroked Elarhe’s thin chest. He gazed at Elarhe with the softest eyes. “How can anyone being be so beautiful and so clever? You’re a little flame made into a man. A little flame, but you bring light to all of my darkness.”

  Elarhe felt a lump in his throat. He made no reply. He couldn’t. He claimed Kite’s mouth with a kiss that he hoped said everything that refused to manifest as words.

  ***

  As gray, predawn light lit Elarhe’s room, Kite said, “I think you’ve watched me well enough. I’m going to my room to sleep now.” He sat up and paused on the edge of the bed.

  Elarhe, who didn’t feel tired at all, was beside him in a flash. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m dizzy. That’s all.”

  “Lie back down.”

  “I’m about to fall asleep. I’m so tired.”

  “You’ll sleep here.”

  “I will not!”

  Elarhe sighed. “I’ll see you to your bed. Here, lean on my shoulder.”

  “Don’t order me about, Squirrel. I will not be given orders in my own home.” He rose unsteadily. “Blast,” he whispered. “Help me.”

  Elarhe started to tell him that he would not be ordered about either. Instead he said, “I need to change your bandages first.”

  Kite sighed, but allowed it. Elarhe unwrapped the bandage slowly. “Oh, Kite.” The injury didn’t seem bad to Goose, he supposed, but it looked painful. The wound was oozing and the lump was huge. “You poor thing.”

  “Don’t do that.” Kite grumbled.

  Elarhe kissed above the knot. “Kisses make it better.”

  Kite flinched. “Just bandage it.”