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Lyrion's Gift [Elven Conceptions 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)

Page 4

by Jade Astor


  “I believe they tried to explain their purpose,” Lyrion said, his blush returning. “However, I wonder if I did not misunderstand them as well.”

  Talek traced his fingers down the front of Lyrion’s bare chest, as he had done in the throne room. This time, though, he didn’t stop at simply brushing his hand over the mark and Lyrion’s cock. Instead, he traced the mark with the tips of his nails, leaving a small indentation. Then his hand moved lower. His grasp was both urgent and possessive, though not in the least uncomfortable. Lyrion longed to touch him back, but his shackles made that impossible.

  “All my life, I have wished for a man like you—one who could produce the heir I need to secure my dynasty. When I discovered that the Hidden Ones did indeed exist, I decided I would spare no effort in locating them.”

  “You…you also call us the Hidden Ones,” Lyrion said, swallowing as the prince’s hand roved over his cock, stimulating him to a state of rigidness and even coaxing a tiny bead of moisture from the tip. At first he worried that the prince might be repelled, but instead he seemed to enjoy rubbing the warm fluid into his palm. “Yet I have never thought of us as hidden. My people are as visible to one another as you and I are at this moment.”

  “No doubt that is true. However, your people’s survival has remained secret from mine for longer than anyone alive can recall. It took many centuries for the scroll to return to the world’s surface. I feel fortunate it did not take another century to locate one of you. My kingdom might have been lost before that…or I would have been forced to take a mate who did not please me in the slightest. Perhaps I have been selfish in my distaste for that course of action. Many men greater than I have made far greater sacrifices.”

  Lyrion raised his chin and met the prince’s eyes directly. “I don’t find it selfish to desire a mate who is to your liking. In fact, I have some knowledge of such matters myself.”

  “Indeed.” Talek seemed interested in his reply. “I have no doubt that many have desired you.”

  “I would not go so far as to say many. But of those who have, not one has aroused a similar feeling in me.”

  “Until now, I hope you mean.” Without removing his hand from Lyrion’s cock, Talek drew closer until his embroidered codpiece touched Lyrion’s bare flesh. Lyrion felt the rasp of the straining cloth and the prince’s own erection shifting behind it.

  “Yes,” Lyrion said. His lips felt parched, and his heart thudded in his chest. He was so totally focused on Talek that the sound seemed very far away. “Until now.”

  Slowly, the prince’s other hand came up to touch his cheek. Lyrion closed his eyes as Talek stroked along the curve of his jaw. Then he leaned in and covered Lyrion’s mouth with his own.

  No one had ever kissed Lyrion before, though of course he had seen such gestures of affection between Da and Fa and some of the other bonded couples in the village. He’d even gone so far as to press his own fingers to his lips and try to simulate what it might feel like. He had, it turned out, vastly underestimated the pleasure a man’s lips could bring.

  When Talek broke away, his eyes seemed to glow, and the pressure of his cock against Lyrion’s burned more insistently than ever.

  “Not even in my dreams did I imagine my soldiers would find one such as you,” he said. His fingers left Lyrion’s cock, making Lyrion catch his breath with need, and curled instead around the gold chain still encircling his waist. Slowly, he pulled Lyrion toward the bed.

  “Lie down,” Talek said, parting the tapestries to reveal the soft mattress the soldiers had talked about earlier. Lyrion could see why they were so intrigued by it the moment he sank into its softness. As much as he longed for his own bed back at home, it could not rival this one for comfort or size.

  He watched with widened eyes as Talek began to shed his own clothes, starting with his belt and tunic and working his way down to his leggings and finely crafted pointed slippers. Soon he stood as naked as Lyrion, who didn’t think he had ever seen so perfect a body on any man, living or imaginary. He watched in rapt fascination as Talek crawled onto the bed beside him and straddled his chest. Again Lyrion instinctively reached for him, only to feel his bonds pull his hands back against his sides.

  “Use your mouth to pleasure me,” Talek said, positioning his rigid erection in front of Lyrion’s face. A fringe of curly dark hair cushioned his thick base and perfectly rounded bollocks that reminded Lyrion of succulent fruit. “I want to feel your lips on another part of my body now.”

  Nodding, Lyrion opened his mouth and tentatively curled his tongue around the underside of the prince’s outthrust shaft. He tasted of salt and desire, stirring a new kind of hunger in Lyrion’s stomach. Slowly, the prince pushed his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into Lyrion’s mouth.

  “Yes…that is most satisfying,” Talek said, rocking back and forth on his knees just enough that his cock slid in and out of Lyrion’s rounded lips. Lyrion wanted to tell him that he found it exciting, too, but he had no way to form words with his tongue pressed flat and his jaws immobilized by Talek’s hot flesh.

  Soon Talek began to move back and forth more vigorously. The sweat from the prince’s groin smeared Lyrion’s cheeks, and he could feel the prickly ends of his cockhairs scraping his soft chin. His wrists strained against the shackles as he longed to wrap both arms around Talek’s waist and pull him in even closer, swallowing all of him at once. The chains, however, would not give way.

  Finally the prince stopped moving, and a strange gurgling noise rose up in his throat. Lyrion experienced a moment of panic. Had he done something wrong? Was the prince experiencing pain, or some sort of a fit?

  Suddenly, he understood what was happening. Talek’s bollocks pulsated against his chin, and a burst of liquid far tastier than sweetwater filled his throat. He swallowed greedily, both excited and honored that so powerful a man as Prince Talek had chosen him as a vessel for his seed.

  Afterward, the prince’s cock softened and Lyrion opened his mouth to release him. He expected the prince to lie down and rest for a while, or send for his servants and have Lyrion taken away, but to his surprise neither of those things happened. Instead, the prince pivoted his body so he was looking down at Lyrion’s cock, still stiff and rubbing against the loop of golden chains. Lyrion moaned in stunned bliss as Talek applied his own mouth in the same way Lyrion had done.

  The prince’s tongue strokes were quick, decisive, and more efficient than Lyrion’s had been, no doubt owing to his advanced experience and his comfort with taking control of any situation. Soon Lyrion found himself bucking and twisting as a similar fit-like sensation racked his own slender frame. The release seemed much more intense than anything he had experienced in the tree. At the last moment, Talek withdrew his mouth and instead used his fist to wring the seed from Lyrion’s throbbing bollocks.

  Turning back around, he stretched out on top of Lyrion, grinding both their spent cocks together. The friction was almost enough to make Lyrion hard again, and he suspected the prince experienced the same renewal of desire.

  Bending his head low, Talek placed his lips against the side of Lyrion’s mouth. “I wanted to be sure you pleased me in every way before I made up my mind,” he whispered. “The chains were to make sure you meant me no harm. They will come off next time. We will be able to disport ourselves much more freely then.”

  “Yes, prince,” Lyrion said. He could think of no other way to respond. The events of the past few days had been so overwhelming that now that he finally lay in a welcoming bed, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest. He didn’t even mind sleeping in chains.

  “Once you have provided me with an heir, I shall reward you handsomely,” Talek said as Lyrion began to drift away. “I will give you anything you wish for. Simply ask and it shall be yours.”

  He didn’t see the slight frown that creased Lyrion’s brow as the words pulled him back from the abyss of sleep. What he wanted most in the world, after all, was to return to his village and the frie
nds and family who were no doubt frantically wondering what had become of him.

  But he could never admit that to the prince.

  Chapter 5

  The serving lad stopped at Talek’s chair and bowed, holding an earthenware jug in front of him. “More shadowberry wine, my prince?”

  The prince nodded and held out his silver goblet. “See that my guests each get another cupful as well.”

  Lyrion watched as the young man tilted the jug to fill the goblet. He then moved to replenish Lyrion’s own less ornate drinking vessel and finally moved toward Kevris, who bared his teeth in a sneer.

  “I have always been served second,” he complained. Lyrion could hardly believe his tone of accusation directed toward the prince.

  “Be glad you were invited at all,” the prince snapped back.

  Embarrassed by the exchange, Lyrion turned his attention to the tableful of succulent treats spread before him. Between enormous slabs of warm bread slathered with honey, spiced barley stew, and toadstools dipped in a sauce made with sweetened azhi milk, he hardly knew what to sample first. In truth, he hesitated to reach for anything, fearful of staining the crisp new white tunic. The prince had gifted him with the garment when he had awoken that morning, still in Talek’s bed. For the rest of the day he had been treated by everyone, from the most powerful ministers down to the lowliest servant, as an honored guest rather than a captive. He dreaded doing something foolish or unmannerly, though. This land’s ways were all so strange to him.

  In the end, he settled for a gujeb fruit, which could be peeled from its shell with a minimum of fuss and spatter. He ate a few slices without incident. His success bolstered his confidence. He reached for a toadstool next.

  “I suppose you were not used to such dinners back in your old village,” the prince said, rather blatantly turning his attention from Kevris.

  “Indeed not,” Lyrion replied after hastily chewing and swallowing a succulent bite of the toadstool. “Not even during the Harvest Feast did so many different dishes adorn our table. And we drank only the beer we could make ourselves. Certainly we enjoyed nothing as delicious as this.”

  Lifting his cup, he downed another mouthful of shadowberry wine. It left him slightly dizzy, much like the last quantity he had swallowed, but it was a pleasant sort of vertigo. With the wine in his belly, he found that his nervousness disappeared and he could speak to the prince freely—though certainly not as freely as Kevris did. Lyrion had yet to discover the exact meaning of the mysterious word both of them used—concubinus—but as he watched them interact, he began to get an idea. Da and Fa rarely argued, but when they did, Lyrion sensed the same feigned aggression toward one another as the prince and Kevris, not to mention Arowan and Mulciber, displayed.

  “How very fortunate you were that the prince’s soldiers happened upon you as they did,” Kevris said, sipping daintily from his own vessel. “Did you try to hide yourself from them? It looks to me like you would be far more fleet-footed than Captain Arowan. Nor does he seem clever enough to trap you. How you came among us is a mystery indeed.”

  “’Tis not such a mystery,” Lyrion said. His cheeks grew warm, and not just from the effects of the wine. “I was…er, climbing a tree when Arowan and Mulciber stole upon me. I tried to flee, but I fell to the ground and was captured. I was neither trapped nor outrun.” He started to add “merely unlucky,” but stopped when he realized that such a statement might offend the prince.

  “My soldiers had strict orders not to harm you—or anyone else from your village that they might encounter. If they disobeyed, you must let me know, and I will punish them.”

  Lyrion took another gulp of wine and dropped his eyes to the table. The serving lad stepped forward to refill his half-drained cup. “No, my prince. I cannot fault them. In fact, they urged me to come to them peacefully, but I did not comply. When I fell, they rushed to my aid.”

  “Of course you didn’t comply.” Kevris sniffed with disdain. “They were taking you against your will. Away from your home, your parents…everything you knew….”

  “Enough.” Talek slapped his palm on the tabletop. Lyrion glanced up to see that the prince’s jaw had gone rigid, though he seemed less angry than guilty. “Lyrion is our guest. Do not badger him or I will have you stripped of every gift I have ever given you and thrown naked from the palace.”

  Kevris shrugged. “Very well, then. Perhaps we should let him speak for a while, since nothing I say tonight is to Your Majesty’s liking. I, for one, would like to know more about Lyrion’s native land and his life there. Have you any brothers or sisters, for instance?”

  Lyrion frowned. “I confess I know not what ‘sisters’ are, but as to brothers, I have none. ’Tis not common for my people to have more than one son, though sometimes there are double births.”

  “Twins,” Kevris supplied, seeing the prince’s startled look. “Would that not be a welcome development, my lord? Two heirs instead of one. You might consider your dynasty doubly secure.”

  “But all are sons?” the prince asked, ignoring Kevris. “No one among you has a sister? Or a mother?”

  “Again I must apologize for my ignorance, my prince. I know the meaning of neither of those words. And yes, all who dwell in my village are the sons of other men. We have never known another way. From what I have heard, ’tis not so in this land.”

  “Things are quite different here,” Talek said, nodding.

  “We are forced to rely upon beings called ‘females’ for the bearing of our young,” Kevris said. “Dreadful, vain creatures they are. Your community is far better off without them.”

  Lyrion nodded. “The concept of females I understand. They are the milk givers and the calf bearers among our azhi herds. ’Tis most strange.” Growing thoughtful, he took a small sip of wine. He felt a distant buzzing in his head. A bit more drink might be needed to clear it. He set down his cup and allowed the serving lad to fill it again. “I am confused, though. Are you suggesting that in this land…there are females of your own kind?” To Lyrion’s astonishment, his two companions nodded. “Surely they must be very rare, for I have not seen one since I arrived here.”

  “Sadly, they are most plentiful outside the gates,” Kevris said. “The prince does not prefer them, so they do not dwell in the palace. Besides, their presence tends to disturb his father, the king.”

  “My eyes were covered when I arrived,” Lyrion recalled with wonder. “I may have passed such beings, but I could not see them. So…do none of the men here bear children at all? Not even one?”

  “You will be the only one,” Talek said with sudden pride. Lyrion then began to consider the other bit of information Kevris had conveyed.

  “Did you say the king lives nearby as well? I did not realize you had a living father.”

  “Indeed I do,” Talek said. “But he is old, and, I am sorry to say, not sound in the head. He keeps to his own chambers and is well cared for. I go to see him often.” He sighed. “Sometimes he knows me, sometimes he does not.”

  So that was where the prince had disappeared to for most of the day, which Lyrion had spent alone, wandering between a few connected chambers under the watchful eyes of the servants. “And you did not come from his body?”

  “Not in the way you mean, no. Hard as it might be to believe, I came from the body of a female, though she is no longer living.”

  Lyrion shook his head. These odd ideas, along with the shadowberry wine, left him dizzier than ever. “Your ways are most unusual. I have never heard such tales.”

  “You don’t exactly seem ordinary to us, either,” Kevris mumbled. Since Lyrion could think of no appropriate response and the prince seemed annoyed with him, the three of them ate in silence for a time. They finished off the toadstools, most of the bread and stew, and all except a single gujeb. Lyrion did not think he could eat another scrap for weeks, but the serving lads soon returned with a tray of pastries, cakes, and sweetmeats of every size and shape.

  “I did not kn
ow what sorts of treats you might be partial to,” the prince said, sweeping a hand over the table, “so I had a few different choices prepared. You must indulge freely, as any honored guest would do. Afterward, we shall have entertainment.”

  Not wishing to appear ungrateful, Lyrion chose a few samples of each dish and found each more delicious than the last. As he ate, he wondered what the entertainment might be. Music, perhaps, or a troupe of jugglers or dancers. Back in his own village, certain citizens were skilled in storytelling, and might compose or recite tales of the old days. In this land, though, customs were so odd, he prepared himself for almost anything.

  At last, the meal was over and the prince stood, motioning Lyrion and Kevris to follow him to his feet. To Lyrion’s shame, he was none too stable on his feet, the effects of the shadowberry wine having spread through most of his body now. At a signal from Talek, the two serving lads moved in to steady him.

  To Lyrion’s amazement, and apparently Talek’s as well, Kevris waved them off. “I shall help him,” he offered. He lifted Lyrion’s right arm and secured it over his shoulder, then slid a supportive hand around Lyrion’s waist. Gratefully he clung to Kevris as they moved across the room.

  “Your kindness toward him surprises me,” the prince said as they started out into the hall.

  “’Tis what you wanted, is it not? For he and I to tolerate each other?” he heard Kevris respond.

  “I did not think you had such tender qualities.”

  Kevris gave a bitter laugh. “I have many qualities you have never discovered...perhaps because you have never tried.”

  Talek gave only a disdainful snort as a reply. Presently Lyrion found himself guided into the same bedchamber in which he had spent the night with the prince. Kevris dropped him onto the bed and knelt beside him. Lyrion lay on his back, his thoughts drifting as Kevris gently removed his new tunic and the gold sash around his waist, his soft cloth boots, and finally his leggings.

 

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