Even if his lover had said he should get the door, it was obviously Eli’s task. Dante’s effect on the world of the living varied. Sometimes he could interact with objects, while other times he seemed incapable of doing so. He had more luck with items that held some sort of meaning for him or that Eli had touched before. He’d probably be able to use the door knob, but it would be confusing and painful for Aran to have to face his ghostly son like that.
As such, Eli left the bed and went to let the Imperator in. When he opened the door, he saw Aran standing patiently at the other side. A glint of excitement shone in the black eyes that were so familiar to Eli. “Is Dante here? I think we might have reached a breakthrough.”
The lingering traces of Eli’s arousal melted into a burst of desperate hope. Struggling to keep his voice level, he asked, “What’s happened?”
As he spoke, Dante made his way to Eli’s side. The tension in his mate was such that it allowed Aran to see him. “Dante,” he breathed out. “Oh, my son…”
“Be at peace, Father,” Dante said softly. “I’m here. What is it?”
Eli wasn’t sure if Aran heard the words, so he repeated them. “The priests claim they might have figured out a way to put your soul where it belongs,” Aran answered, immediately recovering. “We must head to the temples at once.”
Dante didn’t look convinced, but nevertheless nodded. Aran threw a glance Eli’s way, and for the first time, Eli realized that during his brief make-out session with Dante, his clothing had suffered the evidence of Dante’s passion. He was all mussed, several buttons missing from his shirt and the bindings of his pants coming undone.
Eli had no clue when Dante had had the time to do all that, but it didn’t matter. He quickly retreated in the bedroom and changed his shirt. His presence in the bloodkin palace was strange enough already. He didn’t want to birth more rumors by appearing in public as if he’d just been ravaged by a lover.
When he returned, he found Aran speaking to Dante, standing close to Eli’s lover, as if desperate to touch him. The Imperator would be unable to do so, Eli knew, and it must be very strange for Aran to see the obvious proof that, to a certain extent, Eli and Dante had physical contact.
Nevertheless, when Aran turned toward Eli, he didn’t seem resentful in the slightest. Instead, he was smiling. “Come. This might be the solution we’ve all been waiting for.”
Together, the three of them left Eli and Dante’s quarters. As they walked through the winding corridors of the palace, Eli was hyperaware of all the eyes on him, following his every motion. In the private wing of the imperial residence, Eli had been offered full freedom of motion, but he was still being watched. Dante’s older brothers, Gideon and Valerian, were likely keeping an eye on him, although Eli had only glimpsed them from afar until now. It unsettled Eli that they hadn’t even deigned to see him once, if only to verify his claim that Dante’s soul occasionally inhabited him.
Fortunately, Aran and the priests did believe him. As they reached the temple of Mother Earth, Eli wondered if at last, that belief would lead to a result that would benefit them all. He wanted Dante back with him, hale and whole.
Inside, the shrine was quiet, cool, and dark. This was the Imperator’s private space of worship, and as such, there were numerous guards making sure everything remained as the Imperator pleased. According to Dante, their number had increased, but Eli wasn’t surprised at this fact, since, after all, the temple held Dante’s body.
Indeed, as they stepped into one of the rooms, Eli saw the now familiar crystal casket and inside, Dante’s flesh form. In such moments, it was truly disconcerting to have his lover by his side. In the casket, Dante almost looked like he was sleeping, so Eli always shied away from calling the body a corpse. Perhaps a part of him truly refused to process what had happened.
Shaking himself, Eli glanced away from the disturbing sight and at the three priests present in the room. They were working on drawing a large circle on the floor, connecting the slab where the crystal casket lay and another identical one. Eli had gone through the process before, as from the very beginning, the priests had decreed that the only way to send Dante’s soul back into his body was while Eli acted as a vessel for him. So far, their attempts had failed, although Eli wasn’t exactly sure why.
“Well?” Aran asked as soon as he walked in. “Here we are. What have you discovered?”
The head priest bowed lowly. “Your Majesty, as we explained, we believe that the transference process doesn’t work because we lack the necessary strength.”
“Yes, so you said.” Aran sounded displeased and impatient. “It seems that no matter how many priests serve me, even united, their abilities are lacking.”
The cleric winced, obviously realizing that he should dwell less on his own failure and more on the possibility of success. “Yes, well…We’ve figured out that we might have been taking the wrong approach. You have said before that His Highness seems most real when he is touching his mate…privately. We thought that—”
“Wait,” Dante intervened, interrupting the man. “You want me to have sex with Eli here, in front of you?”
Dante seemed so distressed that the Imperator heard him. “I know this is difficult for you, son,” Aran said. “I understand your relationship with Eli is private and you don’t want anyone witnessing what you two share.”
“No, Father, I don’t think you understand. You—”
Eli stepped between Dante and Aran, drawing Dante’s attention to himself and stopping his lover from saying anything else. “It’s all right,” he said. “If they think it can help, I don’t mind.”
“You’re mine.” Dante’s voice was a low growl. “No one deserves the privilege of seeing your passion. Only me.”
“But isn’t it worth that small sacrifice if it means we might be able to be together in every way?” Eli stepped closer to Dante, brushing his lips over those of his lover. “Besides,” he murmured, “it might even be interesting. They’d be watching us, wanting me, lusting for me, all the while knowing that I belong to you and they’ll never get to touch.”
Dante was beginning to be convinced. “Would it excite you?” he purred in Eli’s ear.
It was dangerous, but always so very satisfying to play these games with Dante. “You always do,” Eli answered.
“All right,” Dante said, finally relenting. “It will be as you wish it.”
Now that Eli had gotten what he’d wanted, he really didn’t know what to expect. They’d never made love with anyone else present, and he honestly had no clue how it would affect him.
But Dante had made a promise, and he seemed intent on keeping it. He guided Eli toward the slab, and the priests moved away to let them pass. Eli sat down on the cold altar, keeping his gaze solely on Dante. He knew the rest of the bloodkin were watching them, watching the interaction between him and Dante. To a certain extent, it did arouse him. In the end, though, he found that it was a secondary feeling. As always, his focus remained on Dante, on the man who never failed to turn his body into pure flame.
Dante joined him on the platform, and unlike other times, Eli allowed himself to fully take in his lover’s form. More often than not, when they made love, Eli kept his eyes closed, at least at the beginning. A small part of him feared that if he saw Dante translucent, he wouldn’t be able to feel him like this, so deeply, so powerfully, and so very real. But of course, his fears were unfounded, as he always learned. When they touched, Dante seemed more solid, less of a ghost and more like a flesh-and-blood person.
It was supremely strange since Dante’s actual body was on the other slab, but Eli didn’t allow himself to think too much about that. Fortunately, Dante was of the same mind, and as he climbed on top of Eli, Eli’s world became reduced to the heat of his lover’s form above him, the desire emanating off Dante’s skin.
And then, Dante crushed their mouths together, freeing the sexual tension that had been building up ever since their make-out session in their qua
rters. Well, truth be told, the same want always existed between them. It was like a hunger that they never fully sated. When they made love, it stopped torturing them so much, but it always kept building up, again and again. Eli didn’t regret it. For him, every moment he spent with Dante was precious. This kiss, this moment, he valued them as much as he did his very breath.
Knowing all that, knowing him, Dante swept his tongue into Eli’s mouth. He tasted Eli and claimed him in that unique way only Dante could ever manage. Somehow, he managed to be both aggressive and gentle, reaching out to both Eli’s sexuality and his heart. He explored every inch of Eli’s wet cavern, and through the kiss, he seemed to breathe in Eli’s soul and identity.
Just like before, Dante pinned Eli’s wrists above his head. This time, however, there was no interruption. Oh, the other bloodkin were there. Eli could feel them, hear them whispering and moving. To their credit, they were trying to be discreet, but in all likelihood, they saw this new development as remarkable. Perhaps they hadn’t expected Eli and Dante to be able to touch quite like this, but Eli had a feeling it was more than that. In spite of the fact that they were priests and their purpose here a serious one, they couldn’t help being aroused. For Eli’s part, he took it all in stride. He was flattered by the attention, but Dante was the one who truly mattered for him.
As they kissed, even the need to breath became irrelevant when faced with the burning fire of their lust. Eli ground his erection against Dante, moaning into the lip-lock, begging for more. Dante switched his grip on Eli’s arms, holding him immobilized with a single hand. He used the other one to work on Eli’s shirt, tearing it open with a haste that bordered on savagery.
Buttons flew and seams ripped as the material yielded to Dante’s urgency. When Dante’s fingers trailed over Eli’s skin, exploring his chest, it both frustrated and excited Eli beyond measure. It was simply not enough to satisfy him, and the teasing caress made him even more aware of how much he craved a total union with Dante. His dick throbbed in his pants, and his anus clenched, demanding to be filled.
He and Dante hadn’t managed to have sex before being separated by the event Eli didn’t even want to think about. But that hadn’t stopped the two of them from exploring all the available avenues of pleasure once Dante had returned. In fact, every time they made love, it seemed Dante became more and more solid, something which was actually the basis of the experiment they were about to have. Dante’s bloodkin powers were all but gone, and he couldn’t use magic like he once had, but that was truly a small price to pay.
That particular dimension of their coming together was set aside. As Dante opened Eli’s pants, Eli lost interest in anything that didn’t imply him being fucked in about ten seconds. Dante’s strikingly hot fist engulfed his erection, and Eli moaned as the bloodkin skillfully worked him, rubbing his thumb over the leaking tip, occasionally going lower down to massage Eli’s balls. The pleasure had Eli already writhing on the marble platform. Dante’s hold on his wrists tightened for a few moments, reminding him to stay still. Eli both loved and hated the restriction. He loved it because having Dante assert his dominance over him provided a whole new layer of ecstasy he had never experienced with another lover. However, it also meant that he couldn’t touch Dante in turn. Everything happened as Dante dictated it, and it was sweet sensual torture, to have to wait for Dante to decide to allow Eli the caresses he craved so much.
When Dante released Eli’s hands, Eli instinctively knew that he hadn’t been given permission to move. He struggled to remain still, not wanting to disappoint his lover, his mate, his master. Dante repaid him by starting to pull the rest of Eli’s clothes off. The bloodkin discarded Eli’s boots first. No sooner had they hit the floor with a dull thud than Dante went on to get rid of the even more frustrating pants. Eli wiggled around a little, aiming to help his mate, but Dante had it covered, and soon, Eli was naked on the marble platform, exposed to Dante’s gaze like some sort of pagan sacrifice.
In spite of their ruthless nature, bloodkin didn’t perform killing rituals for religious purposes. Some of them no longer practiced religion at all, but those who did believed in Mother Earth, who was by Her nature a benevolent deity. Nevertheless, even if bloodkin had been inclined toward sacrifices, Eli still wouldn’t have been afraid. In Dante’s embrace, he always felt so very safe, like nothing could ever hurt him.
The stone was cool under him, and he shivered slightly, half because of the temperature and half due to his own awareness of the sexual tension in the room. Most of it came from Dante, his bloodkin prince’s gaze sweeping over Eli like a palpable caress. But Eli also remained aware of the other people present. He didn’t particularly mind them seeing him naked, but he was possessive of Dante. Doubtlessly, they could all see Eli’s mate now.
But who cared about that? Let them watch. Let them lust. Dante belonged to Eli, just like Eli belonged to Dante. Still holding his hands immobile, Eli smiled up at his bloodkin and mouthed, “Please.”
“You should know better by now than to think that you can dictate my actions.” Dante passed a claw over Eli’s cheek, and Eli trembled under the dangerous touch. His mate didn’t draw blood, but Eli wished he had. He wanted for Dante to feed off him. Since their meeting, back when Dante had still been alive, the bloodkin never had tasted Eli’s essence. No matter how many times they made love, that limitation had never truly disappeared.
Even so, just having Dante there, above him, had Eli so aroused he could barely think. In spite of his words, Dante did follow Eli’s silent plea and disrobed. He was, as always, superbly efficient, the material simply melting off him. Sometimes, Dante actually took the time to strip in a normal way, to preserve the illusion that protected them from undeniable facts, but he didn’t do so know. Perhaps the priests had given him hope as well. Perhaps the urgency was simply too much for him. Either way, in mere moments, Eli had his naked mate above him.
Dante’s hands traveled over the entire expanse of Eli’s body, exploring every inch of him. Eli felt that he was slowly being consumed by the flame of the bloodkin’s passion, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Today, neither of them was in the mood for much foreplay. They were too raw, too high and excited at the possibility of finally being able to come together in every way. Eli desperately needed to be fucked, to have Dante inside him, and nothing else would even do. But his mate was nothing if not stubborn, and he loved drawing out this torture, driving Eli wild before he finally took him.
Perhaps it was for that reason that Eli decided to disobey Dante for the first time. No, it wasn’t actually a conscious decision. The tongues of flame licking over his skin simply wouldn’t let him think, wouldn’t allow him to cling to his control. He hated the thought of disappointing his mate, of going against something Dante wanted, but he simply couldn’t help it. And yes, he wanted to touch Dante, and he wanted to test his mate, to see what Dante would do.
He was not disappointed. For a few moments, Eli managed to touch Dante’s chest, but then, Dante caught his hands and growled his displeasure. “It looks like you want to be punished, don’t you, Eli?”
Eli didn’t reply. He didn’t think he could have. The heat of Dante’s eyes melted his brain cells. And then, Dante flipped him over on the marble platform, gesturing for him to sit on all fours. Eli complied, pushing his ass out and exposing himself to Dante’s gaze.
Dante released another of his trademark growls. “What a greedy little slut you are. So eager for my cock. Well, you’re not getting it.” His hand landed painfully on Eli’s ass cheek with a loud, fleshy sound. Eli hissed, his cock throbbing as his brain translated the pain into pleasure.
“You need to be punished,” Dante continued, undeterred. “Now, eyes front.”
Eli obeyed and found himself facing the bloodkin priests. Since he’d been on his back on the platform and fully focused on Dante, he hadn’t seen them or their expressions until now. One of them stood rigid, like a statue, his gaze fixed on Eli’s face. The other was staring
avidly at Dante in rapt awe, while the third one didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t aroused. He was leaning on a column and touching himself under his robe.
It was natural for a cleric of Mother Earth to have a high libido, so there was truly nothing inappropriate in them expressing sexual desire. Still, Eli had never experienced this situation in Manturanael. Elves weren’t so keen on exhibitionism, and as far as Eli could tell, bloodkin were quite possessive as well. But Dante seemed intent on making use of the circumstances for a little experiment.
“Look at them,” Dante purred in Eli’s ear. “See how they’re watching you? They’re imagining themselves in my position, imagining putting their cocks in your beautiful mouth, in your ass. Do you want that, baby? Do you want their cocks?”
“N–no,” Eli stammered. “Only you, Dante. Only you.”
“You don’t sound very convinced.” Another smack. “Perhaps we should ask them to come forward and fuck your face. Or maybe you want them here.” His fingers trailed over Eli’s crease and against his fluttering opening. As much as he’d have liked to remain calm, Eli couldn’t help a moan at the touch. Dante chuckled darkly. “I see the thought appeals to you.”
What appealed to Eli was having Dante there, fucking him hard. He wanted to say that, to scream it, in front of the priests, in front of the entire world. But he couldn’t speak, and when Dante delivered four more hard slaps, two on each ass cheek, the only sounds he could make were moans and whimpers. By now, he was entering that head space where his bones became liquid, his brain shrouded by a mist of desire. He could barely even see anymore. The only thing he could focus on the heat of Dante’s touch against his ass and back.
And Dante wasn’t done with him, not by far. With no warning, he thrust two fingers inside Eli’s channel. They weren’t lubricated in any way, not even with spit, and Eli loved it. He loved the burn, the roughness of it, the bite of pain that blurred into ecstasy. As always, Dante knew exactly what Eli needed and delivered it, even if this was, supposedly, Eli’s punishment.
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