Ice Dragon Tales

by Hurri Cosmo

  However, there were things he was going to have to know, more than what he had been able to pull from Joron. More than he would ever obtain from Joron. He sent the guard on his way, making sure he not only knew exactly what to tell the leaving detail, but to also strengthen the guard all around the castle. Training would have to start immediately after more men were found to fill the role of guard. Until then, he would work his people overtime to protect his man. He started to consider an inside room, one without windows at all, but he needed to be careful because to hold Joron basically a prisoner, even if it was for his own good, would never work. He stepped back into the room, locking the door.

  He watched Joron as he walked toward him. He could see confusion again, mixed with fear. No, that was not something he wanted this young man to feel, from anything or anyone, but most of all him. Then those beautiful eyes cast their gaze to the floor. Ahhh. Does he think I would be disgusted with him? Did Joron believe he would be that shallow? Aric would show him exactly what he was feeling...again. Aric walked right up to Joron and swept him up into his arms, hardly slowing down. And like he had done last night, he carried him to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving Joron's. He gently laid him on the bed and began to unbutton the too big tan shirt.

  Aric kissed and licked that pale, perfect skin, smelling the soap mixed with what he already identified as Joron's personal scent. It was a heady, sexy scent Aric knew was already burned deep into his brain, into his very being. He reached down and untied the drawstring to the pants Joron had found, snaking his hand into the waistline, searching for that hot staff, pulsing and throbbing the second he touched it. Both Aric and Joron gasped and Aric once again took full possession of Joron's lips. How did he get enough? He stroked Joron's swollen member gently, trying--he knew in vain--to stay in control, to make this lovemaking last. Joron arched his back, raised his hips into Aric's hand, showing him he wanted more as well.

  Aric released him from the kiss, leaned into Joron's ear, and whispered, "My only wish is to make you happy." He then stroked harder, gaining a moan of pleasure.

  He needed Joron right now. He stripped Joron's pants off, having only a bit of trouble with the custom shoes Joron had created. Kissing his perfect neck and shoulders, trailing quickly down his chest and stomach, he finally took Joron's member into his mouth. He sucked hard, pulling the salty pre-cum from the slit, rubbing his tongue across the tip, pushing it. Joron's hips bucked violently and Aric held them down, chuckling to himself, reveling in his wildcat. He reached up and put his fingers in Joron's mouth, letting him suck on them again, wetting them. Watching him do it was so damn sexy. He pulled them back out and immediately found and pushed two of those fingers into Joron's entrance. Joron cried out. Aric knew the pain had to still be pretty intense. But, this time, he fully intended to make love to him. He continued to suck gently on Joron's hard staff as he started to move his fingers in and out, slowly at first, as Joron's muscles closed tightly around them.

  He pulled off Joron's hard member and removed his fingers. Pulling Joron's hips up, he grabbed a container of oil from the side of the bed, oil he had ordered to be brought that morning. He used his free hand to apply the oil liberally to his member while he once again tenderly pushed now slicked fingers back into Joron's tight opening, lovingly massaging as he gently opened and loosened Joron's entrance. He concentrated on keeping things slow. He watched Joron. The boy's eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open. Oh how he wanted to kiss those lips. But once again he was afraid of losing control. He removed his fingers from Joron once more, and as soon as he did, he positioned himself immediately, slowly pushing in his staff. This time he was able to push to the halfway mark before he had to pull back out. He shoved harder the second time, earning a gasp from his young man.

  He looked at Joron writhing, the half-closed eyes watching him. There was nothing more exciting he had ever experienced than seeing the lust fill this young man's eyes. How in the world was he ever going to stay in control of this relationship if he could never gain control of the sex between them? He tried so hard to move slowly, deliberately, but as Joron's muscles pulsed around his member, he knew it was once again a losing battle.

  Unbelievable.

  A third time and he still couldn't get control over this? He suddenly didn't care. He quickly grabbed Joron's member and started to pump it, wishing he had spent more time sucking on that amazing, hard staff. He licked his lips and vowed he would do that when they made love again, which even now he knew would be very, very soon. He slammed into Joron then. He watched those green eyes flash as the passion built for him as well. Joron moved his hips, meeting the hard thrusts Aric assaulted him with. Shit. There was no way he was going to be able to make this last. Once again he lost himself to the feelings Joron elicited from him.

  "I can't hold back."

  As Joron's member started pulsing hard in his hand and he felt the hot wet cum on his fingers, he also felt the violent squeezing on his own member and he once again emptied himself into the boy. His orgasm was so big. He had never felt it that hard before. Not once. All he knew was he wanted that feeling again and again--the pain and the pleasure, together. He truly wanted this out of control, pulsating bliss rocketing through his body one more time, even as he rode out the spasms of this intense wave.

  Joron was more than addictive. It was ridiculous how Aric needed him more and more. He dropped again to the sheets, thinking vaguely he would have to allow them to be changed at some point. Again, he was happy but nowhere near satisfied. It seemed the more he did it with Joron, the more he needed to do it. Sex with him was having exactly the opposite effect he expected it to. Could it be love? So many things did not make sense where Joron in his life was concerned. He thought only last night he would have bed him a few more times in order to get him out of his head. But that was not going to be the case. Joron was not going to leave--not Aric's head, not Aric's castle, not Aric's room.

  What was happening to him?

  Chapter 12

  Aric left to attend to some business prior to the sessions he would be holding, and he told Joron he would be back in a while. He would show Joron around the castle then, if he wanted it, and of course, he did. Joron was stuck here for the moment, so if he could learn more about how to help his own people by seeing how this large castle was run, when he finally did go home it would have been worth it...right?

  Of course, it left him time to think.

  Joron couldn't believe he allowed Aric to do what he had to him. But his body simply delighted at the big man's touch and ached so wonderfully afterward. The heights of pleasure were overwhelming. The man's kiss was overpowering. Sure he had saved him, rescued him. King Aric had come riding in like thunder and took control of not only the vile stable hand but also of Joron's heart. Then something in him had actually clicked into place when he was taken into Aric's arms in the middle of the forest, when he was forced up against the tree and...and...

  He wouldn't allow himself to dwell on it, but he was already in way over his head. It was obvious. He was falling in love. Before this, he didn't know the meaning of the word. Before he had been held by Aric, he had no clue what he had been living without.

  Before the king left, he had ordered a bath for himself and now Joron rested in the same warm, fragrant water. The thought Aric had been in this water was enough to make his manhood jump, trying to come to life yet again. Joron sighed. He had never before in his life had to deal with this type of issue.

  He wanted to have sex.

  Even after having it not an hour ago, he wanted it again, and if the king were here, he imagined how he would approach him, sitting naked on his lap--kissing him, fondling him, rubbing his naked body up against him.

  Stop.

  He sighed again. How did things turn out this way? He needed to leave after this tour. He had no business still being here even now. He couldn't leave it up to Aric. This business he had put himself in charge of was something only he could do. Joron had alw
ays known that. Yes, he was extremely grateful Aric was offering to help, but this was a huge commitment and not a one-time thing. Plus, the time added being in Claymoor Doom, if he was made to stay here, was too much. If they left tomorrow, it would still be three, maybe four days minimum, added to the mission. Besides that, how could Joron ask for help every time the king of Blade Rain met with his people? No. He needed to do this himself and from his own castle.

  And maybe in the next few weeks and months he would see his brother actually making an effort to be a good king. He would see him granting food, medicine, equipment, and help where it was necessary, receiving proper payment when appropriate. He would see everyone settle into a routine that was finally healthy, including Diagus's mother, and life would be good.

  Or...

  He would see Diagus sinking into the greed and lust he now knew was possible in all people, including himself. He laughed. Greed and lust. Exactly what he was feeling right now. Greed toward the man who was king over the largest expanse of land in the area. A king in charge of twice the number of villages and towns and three times the number of people than Blade Rain. An extremely busy king who did not hide his intent to change the way all of the kingdoms did business and also did not hide the fact he intended to put himself at the helm. The greed Joron felt was not only toward wanting Aric back in this room and in the bed, to the exclusion of all he was obviously in charge of, but also not wanting him to see anyone else. The king was possessive and Joron thrilled at the words he had used time and again--you are mine, you are mine. Of course, it didn't mean the king wouldn't take on other partners. It only meant Joron would not be allowed to--not that he wanted to. But he truly did not want to share Aric either, and wanting that made him realize his own penchant for greed.

  However, it was his own lust that surprised him the most. He had been thinking about this man, even before he knew who he was, ever since their encounter in the woods, his body craving something he could not identify. But this feeling had only grown in him once he understood what sexual release actually meant. He never thought he could be so needy. He never ever thought he would respond to domination. He shivered. He wanted Aric here right now, telling him to get into his bed so he could take him yet again. His manhood grew painfully hard, even as his ass throbbed with unbelievable soreness. What was happening to him?

  He truly needed to go back to his kingdom. If he was out of Aric's influence--away from his sight, his smell--he might be able to get over this. It was true that his body was not safe from Diagus there and neither was his life, but at least with those threats he knew what he was up against. There, he had some sort of control over his own emotions. Here, he was up against something he didn't understand, and it frightened him more than anything had before.

  He had to escape.

  And he had to do it now.

  He rose quickly and dried himself. Yes, it would have been a wonderful thing to have been able to learn from this castle. However, his need to be out of the king's reach, out of his influence, was greater yet. But then he once again realized, as he looked around the bedroom, his clothes were missing and this time the large wardrobe was empty. When had Aric done that? While Joron was passed out after their fierce lovemaking? What did he intend to do? Keep him naked the whole time he was here?

  He had a very pleasant shiver at the thought.

  Well, this was the private quarters of the king, right? Aric obviously had his clothes moved but he wouldn't have moved them far. He wrapped the towel around himself. It would have to do for the moment. His next issue was the guard at the door. If there was more than one, what he was planning wouldn't work and if that were the case, he wouldn't have another chance. But he had no choice. If he didn't get out now, he had a feeling he never would. Never mind he truly didn't want to escape. He wanted to believe he could start a long-term relationship with this man, this king of kings. He wanted to believe there could be love between two men. He truly would love to believe he could forget for a while all of the problems and issues and constant crises of the lives he had sworn to protect back home. For a while he could relax and not be on edge all of the time, wondering if today was the day he would be found out or a mistake would be made and someone would die--or if he would do something stupid and one of the castle servants or, heaven forbid, one of the good citizens would suffer because of it. The more he thought about it, the more it truly irritated him. Why was he the only one who was responsible? Why was it he was the only one who cared?

  Joron sighed.

  How many times had he had this argument with himself?

  It wasn't true. He wasn't the only one. The castle servants cared deeply about the people. They proved it every day. They cared deeply about Joron. Could he abandon them? Could he just walk away because he finally understood greed and lust?

  Could he do that?

  No. He couldn't. It was exactly greed and lust he had fought against all his life.

  He picked up the heavy vase he had saved from falling the night before and positioned himself at the door. He steeled himself and started to shout.

  "Hey. Stop it. Help. HELP. I said stop it."

  Joron heard the latch on the door flip up. He was standing on the back side of the door so when the guard came running in, his sword drawn, Joron had perfect access to the back of his head. He brought the vase down as hard as he could and the man dropped like a stone. Surprisingly, the vase did not break but when the guard hit the floor, an overwhelming sense of guilt and revulsion hit Joron and nearly took his breath away.

  What did I do? Did I kill the man? Oh sweet mercy, please don't let the man be dead.

  But then Joron not only saw the man's steady strong breathing, but heard a moan and realized he was already waking up.

  That would not work for him.

  He brought the vase down again, not as hard. The man continued to breathe but he lay still. Joron dropped the vase and headed out the door, his heart pounding hard in his throat, his stomach turning every which way. He put his hands on his knees for a moment, as his stomach continued to spasm and his forehead grew cold and clammy. Finally, with a deep breath, he turned toward the way he had come yesterday, walked quickly down the hall, and tried the first door he came to. It opened onto another suite of rooms. He slipped in and closed the door.

  There was no fire in the fireplace so it was chilly, but the heavy curtains were pulled to the side, letting the only light into the room. It was strange the curtains would be open if the room was not occupied. It gave Joron hope. He walked quickly into the bedroom area and right to another large wardrobe. Sure enough, there were the missing clothes from the wardrobe in the king's room. He picked out another tunic and drawstring pants, this time tan in color, and hurriedly put them on. Once again he needed to create makeshift slippers but he knew this time what to do, and before too many minutes had passed, he was fully dressed and walking down the hall, trying to pick out landmarks that would guide him all the way back by himself. He wasn't going to kid himself though--he would encounter castle servants and other guards. He wasn't sure what he would do about it if they ended up recognizing him, but right now his only goal was to find his way to the outside and to his horse.

  He walked down long, empty, silent corridors, wondering why this part of the castle was so deadly quiet. He thought back to when he was brought through here only a day ago and realized even then it had seemed deserted. So, the fact he continued to not see anyone was evidently not unusual. Then suddenly he came to the end of the hallway.

  It simply ended and that wasn't right.

  He had become turned around somehow. At some point yesterday, TaParn had made a turn and Joron thought he was admiring one of the war tapestries on the left so it would have put it on the right and since they turned right, when he found what he thought was that picture, he turned left. That should have been correct, but it clearly wasn't. He needed to retrace his steps back. Yes, but how far?

  Damn it.

  Where had he made his m
istake? And now he didn't remember this corridor at all.

  He was lost.

  Even if he wanted to go back to the room and start over, which of course, he did not-- that guard had to be awake again by now--there was no way he would find it. Not even if he was given the rest of the day. He stopped. Continuing no longer made any sense.

  So there he stood, lost and clueless what his next step needed to be. But then...

  What's that?

  He could hear something. It sounded...like a child. Was the child crying?

  Joron turned in the direction he thought the sound was coming from and tiptoed toward it, then realized once again he was going in the wrong direction as the sound seemed to fade. He turned yet again, cursing himself for his stupidity, and walked quickly, listening intently. If there was a child crying, it would mean there had to be people and people would be near an opening. Well, it was a direction to go in, which made more sense than standing still like an idiot.

  He moved toward the sound down another corridor but he soon realized it was as totally deserted as any of these corridors had been. It made sense the king would reside in a separate part of the castle. Since he was an important man, it would be far easier to protect him when there was nothing around him. It would be a lot easier to pick out would-be assassins as well, since the only other people would be the guards themselves and maybe the occasional guest. But it was more likely frequent guests and maybe that was more the reason for the isolation than anything else.

  Damn. Why did his thoughts always lead back to that?

  He had to focus on where he was and where the sound was coming from. He had been wandering around for a while now but he didn't remember going through any major doorway like he had yesterday when they came into this part of the castle, so he was still in the private wing. It was possible he had gone in circles but he truly didn't recognize anything he was seeing, even as part of the present journey. It was clear to him he had not been here at all. Odder yet, why would a child be in this very empty space? Was the crying kid lost, too? But the child sounded young, too young to be by himself anywhere in this big castle, much less in this lonely place.