“Sometimes…” Uly stopped, glanced at Ryanac, couldn’t look at the man while he held his hand against Ryanac’s cock, and so moved his fingers to the man’s thigh. “Sometimes I want to touch him somehow, someway, but I’m not sure he’ll like it, or if it’s what he wants at the time, so I wait.”
The other man looked thoughtful. “The best sex is when those involved are all taking part. You keep this up, all you will do is break his heart.” Ryanac ran his fingers down Uly’s sides. “I think it’s time you took pleasure. I think it’s time you learnt how to ride someone.”
A soft trembling took control of his hands. His pulse sped up. Ryanac’s hands moved over him, caressing, seeking out his contours through the fabric. “Lift up. If we rip another garment, the seamstresses will scream the palace down.”
Uly began to shake his head, but only met that unforgiving gaze. To his horror, Uly found he was obeying as Ryanac pulled the linen free of his legs. A hand kept Uly on his knees.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ryanac said. “You don’t ever have to do anything with me if you don’t want. You know how to make this stop.”
Feeling a little detached from his body, as though this were unreal, Uly nodded. He remembered the word. As to whether he wanted this to stop… He hesitated, and Ryanac waited. He didn’t know if he was ready for this, yet even as he considered, Uly accepted he would never be ready. He trusted Markis with his life and his heart, but Ryanac was an entirely different enigma than that of the king. It wasn’t that he mistrusted the big man or lacked faith, he just… He loved him, but not in the way he loved Markis. He held back because he knew that they weren’t a perfect union. Uly wanted Markis to himself but accepted that, as a king, Markis needed a wife.
Ryanac was another matter. If he didn’t trust what Markis felt for him, Uly might have considered Ryanac as competition. Still, he was very aware of the attachment the two men shared and of what it might stop him sharing with Markis. He accepted the requirement that Markis as king needed to wed and provide an heir, but he had read in the Swithin library that people of the same sex could wed, and Markis had once said that a union of more than one was perfectly acceptable in Swithin culture. Why, then, had he not asked Uly to marry him? He could only surmise that Ryanac was the problem.
The two men had known each other for a great deal of their lives. They loved each other and Uly knew what Markis wanted. He wanted Uly to love Ryanac as well, and he did. He just couldn’t bring himself to love Ryanac in quite the same way. He wanted to. Uly was even aware of how easy it was to fall for Ryanac, but still he held back. He knew what Markis hoped would come from their lovemaking, and it wouldn’t…
“It won’t work,” Uly whispered, afraid to voice his thoughts, but unable to keep silent another moment. He stared into Ryanac’s eyes, amazed that he could meet that gaze without turning away. Tears stung his eyes. “It won’t work. It won’t do what Markis wants…”
Those large hands cupped his face. Ryanac’s gaze studied his. “I know,” the other man said. Uly frowned, asking the question with his eyes. Ryanac smiled ruefully for once, then leaned in to kiss his lips softly before he pressed their foreheads together, and then looked into his eyes once more. “I know, Uly. I know sex won’t bring us together the way Markis hopes. Sex and love aren’t always the same thing.”
“Then why?”
Ryanac laughed gently, a slight frown playing over his face. “You really have to ask? Because I want you. Because I love you in a way that makes it right. I desire you, little one.” As always, it made Uly shiver with an odd pleasure to hear the pet name, even though he was far from little. So saying, anyone was little compared to Ryanac, and right now, Uly felt small. “Our making love will not hurt what we have. If I thought it would, I would get someone to tie my hands behind my back before laying a finger on you, but while it won’t do what Markis hopes, I know it won’t hurt.” The grip of Ryanac’s large hands tightened significantly. “You’re questioning so much right now that it isn’t the time to worry so much about the future. You’re questioning yourself, your strengths, trying to find out who you are. No one can give you the things you’re looking for. You need to seize them. This isn’t about Markis or what he wants. There’s simply no reason for us to be apart. No reason for us not to share the best and worst of ourselves. Make love with me, Uly. Make love because we can and without hurting anyone else. Because we want to. Because we get one life, and moments such as this are worth more than coin.”
Tears threatened, but Uly denied them. Surely he had grown into enough of a man not to cry so readily? The pain of accepting that he could not be as close to Ryanac as he wanted dulled the moment, but the idea that Ryanac wanted him sent an undeniable thrill through his limbs. Uly felt detached as Ryanac pulled the sidon over his head and tossed it aside. He sat there naked, and Ryanac’s hands went back to caressing him, bare skin against bare skin now, as his thumbs brushed his already hard nipples. Only then did Uly accept that this was happening. He’d consented. He wanted this. His only regret was that he might never feel as close to Ryanac as he did to Markis, and he didn’t understand why. Surely something could change their relationship for the better? Dipping his head, Ryanac sucked a nipple in and then bit in barely suppressed savagery. Uly reared up, his head falling back, but he was pinned by Ryanac’s mouth at his chest, those large hands at his hips. A lick took back some of the pain.
“Ready for me to do that to the other one?” Ryanac asked, smiling. All Uly could do was stare. He should have been prepared for the sensation, but this time, the pain shot down through him, tightening his testicles. He writhed, making a small, desperate sound. Ryanac leaned back, fishing something from his pocket. He withdrew a small box and, awkwardly with one hand, flipped open the lid. Inside was a strange pink object. Uly frowned. Ryanac put the object in Uly’s hand. So startled was he that he almost dropped it.
“I’m going to stretch you a little for me. You’ll also like it.” The item was heavy and seemed to be made of some type of rock and yet it thrummed.
“How?” was all he could manage to ask, and then a dark thought took precedence. “You planned this.”
“No. Not exactly. I was bringing it to you anyway. Markis bought such a present for Tressa, though hers is a different shape. It’s a crystal,” Ryanac explained. “This one is shaped to stretch that sweet little rosette of yours. Many crystals vibrate, though usually at a frequency we can’t feel. This type is difficult to cut without breaking or spoiling the vibration, so it’s rare and expensive. I bought this for you. Well” ‑‑ he gave a wry smile ‑‑ “Markis had trouble choosing one for you, so I helped and asked to share the cost. I want you to keep it, wear it, and enjoy it. You can wear it to prepare yourself for me or for Markis, or simply use it for your own pleasure. Trust me. You’ll like it.” Ryanac took hold of it and slid his mouth around it. He also licked a finger. He moved that hand down with the now glistening object and passed it beneath Uly’s body. Uly gasped as the finger circled him and then slid in a fraction. He contracted automatically.
“Breathe. Relax.”
A hard tip pressing into him replaced the finger. It moved back and forth, each time pressing a little more into his body. Only the width of his hand in length, the object possessed a narrow tip that then flared out into a span probably no more than the circle of his fingers. There it dipped in and then flared out again to a flat base. Even so, Uly remained convinced it would never slip easily into his body, so flinched in surprise when it did. The vibrations simply fought against his body’s natural urge to contract. Smooth with a gradual expansion, the crystal defied his body’s natural resistance. The sensation made him gasp. He could feel the flat base sitting snugly against him.
“It’s shaped so you don’t lose it. It won’t slip out or into you. You can wear it anytime. Out and about, in bed at night, though I’m not sure you would manage to sleep with it.”
The crystal still vibrated. It provided a shivery, ple
asant sensation. Uly was very aware that his breathing grew rapid. Apparently, Ryanac also noted that Uly had begun to breathe rapidly.
“Stay kneeling.” A hand took hold of his, guiding. “Stroke your cock.”
Embarrassment sent the pleasant sensation back for a moment, but Uly couldn’t deny it for long. He tried to do what Ryanac said as the big man lay down. Lifting his hips, Ryanac pushed off his trousers, and then sat back up, leaning around Uly. From the way the guard moved, Uly guessed that Ryanac pushed the trousers to his knees, then used his feet to kick them off. He caught at Uly when he almost unbalanced as Ryanac undressed. Ryanac lay back again, Uly now straddling his hips. Placing one hand behind his neck as a pillow, Ryanac placed the other hand over Uly’s, the one that still clasped his cock.
“Don’t be in such a hurry.” He spoke softly, the words slithering around inside Uly’s mind, stroking his thoughts and emotions, coaxing him to give into desire. The area that contained the bed was large, yet right now, it felt much smaller, private and intimate. With Ryanac’s help, Uly settled the strokes into a soft, languid rhythm. It was similar to the way Markis sometimes touched him, but he had never done it like this. In the past, this act had always been hurried. Since meeting Markis, Uly had never masturbated. The heat in his face told him he blushed.
“How do you expect to know how to please Markis if you don’t know how to please yourself? You should take your time over this. Find what you like best.” Ryanac spoke so calmly, so matter-of-fact, that Uly fought his embarrassment more than he fought the other man’s guidance. Ryanac wasn’t patronising him. He was in safe hands and had nothing to fear. Anxiety still fluttered around, but Uly pushed it back for now.
“I thought…” He stopped, feeling humiliated by what he had been about to say. Ryanac raised an eyebrow. “I thought one did this just to ‑‑”
“What? That it was just a way to get off? There’s more to sex than that. You know that by now.”
Embarrassed by the chastisement, Uly opted for silence. He moved as Ryanac’s hands dictated, Ryanac remaining on his back and drawing Uly down onto him. One of those large hands then gripped Uly about the back of the neck, angling his head for a kiss. Uly offered no resistance; he loved kissing.
“What are you thinking?” Ryanac asked.
Uly laid spread across the huge frame, feeling the contrast of hard and soft. His legs were wide open, his knees drawn up on either side of Ryanac’s hips. The position made him feel like a frog. It also left a wide, gaping hollow between his legs. If anyone had stood in the right position, all his intimate bits would be on display. Only the fact that no one stood behind him to look kept him still. The cooler air at his back was another sharp contrast against Ryanac’s heat.
“I don’t know why, but it always surprises me that you kiss like that,” Uly confessed.
Odd now, to think of all the times they had spent together. Ryanac kissed softly or roughly, depending on what they were doing. Usually Markis’s kiss was somewhere between both. If Uly had needed to put a word to it, he would have called those kisses enticing. They made him want to copy the movements. He always expected Ryanac to devour him and, sometimes, he did, but often the kisses were almost painfully light, teasing, constantly changing, moving away from his mouth to his face and then back again. Finally, Ryanac caught his lower lip and nibbled on it. It made Uly smile somewhere deep inside. He had a habit of chewing on his lip. It felt odd to have someone else do it for him; odd but pleasant.
“You think I should kiss more like this?”
This time Ryanac’s mouth was hard, bruising. The big man broke away, holding Uly’s head in his large hands. Uly’s lips felt swollen, tender. The huge hands covered each side of his face completely, and a sudden awareness of the strength in them engulfed him. It should have made him afraid, but it didn’t. Ryanac wouldn’t hurt him. The certainty of that struck him as never before. The idea also caused pain. He and Ryanac had talked about fear long ago when they first met. The lesson continued, apparently. Uly never believed Ryanac would hurt him, but he had always thought it was because of what Markis wanted. Now he knew it was because of what Ryanac felt for him. He just didn’t know if he could let himself feel the same.
“Your turn,” Ryanac said, his voice sounding a little husky. “What do you want?”
He barely needed to think about that. The crystal trembled within him. The sensation grew, rather than diminished. It crept up through to his stomach, then up the line of his chest towards his heart. He involuntarily squeezed down on it, and even that turned out to be pleasant. He wanted something larger within him now, though he pushed the thought of how large out of his mind before he grew afraid of it. Ryanac wouldn’t hurt him, not even like that. He didn’t know how, but the big man would take care of it. Before that, he wanted another kiss, so he said so.
Ryanac smiled. “Then you’re going to have to do the kissing.” He lay back and waited. Uly blinked, hesitated, tried to crawl up, couldn’t, then frowned when Ryanac laughed softly and deigned to lift his head enough so he could reach. He wanted to scold the guard, but his lips were suddenly too busy.
Need. Uly had never spared much consideration for the word in his old life. He liked it. It was a good word. It contained a pure meaning that couldn’t be more complete in his understanding than it was right now. He had reached this moment often with Markis. The trouble with Ryanac was… Well, he wasn’t Markis. He wasn’t doing all the things Markis would be doing. He wasn’t doing anything.
Part of him was. The man twitched beneath him, but otherwise the man’s cock just lay there. Uly tried to rock his hips so their cocks would rub. In this position, it strained his legs and he couldn’t get enough friction. His hands slid on the sweat that had pooled on Ryanac’s chest ‑‑ most of it Uly’s ‑‑ and gasped when Ryanac caught him before he slipped.
“See what it’s like making love to a dead fish?”
Uly swallowed. “I do not make love like a dead fish! I” ‑‑ he gasped in air ‑‑ “never laid here like you’re doing.”
“No. You do wriggle a lot.”
Uly’s eyes went wide. He just couldn’t help it. His lips parted to form a protest, but he couldn’t think of one. He did wriggle a lot. He rather enjoyed it.
Ryanac grinned up at him. “You like this body?”
Heat crept into his face, perversely cooling his sweat. His hair fell down one side of his face. Somewhere in the midst of all this, he had lost the clip, and Ryanac’s fingers had done the rest of the unravelling. He began to lie, feeling foolish because he knew Ryanac wouldn’t believe him, and nodded. “Who wouldn’t?”
“Then do what you want with it.”
Ryanac pushed, and Uly slipped back. Sitting up, Ryanac fiddled about under him. There was a gentle tug, and then the crystal was gone. Fingers played around him, into him. Grasping Uly by the waist, Ryanac reached towards the table where every Swithin kept a supply of oil, dipping his fingers. The first touch was colder than Uly expected, and he jerked. One, two, and then three slick fingers slowly worked their way into him. Uly gasped from the shock, and then darkness descended. Only then did he realise he had closed his eyes. He took the feeling into him, into places nowhere near where those fingers touched.
He opened his eyes only when Ryanac stopped. The big man lay back, handing him the pot. “Grease me,” he said.
Uly’s eyes had their own agenda. They instantly flicked down to take in the sight of that cock. It flexed towards him even as his gaze fell upon it. Damn if he wasn’t blushing. He expected a derisory remark. Ryanac continued to surprise him.
“I want you to touch me. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted your hand around me.”
Spurred by the depth of emotion in Ryanac’s voice, Uly watched his hand reach out as though he had no control over his own appendage, but he kept the fingers spread, just trailing them up the length. He needed the dry touch. He needed to feel the heat of it. Ryanac closed his eyes as Uly’s fingers gripped
. He kept his eyes shut even as Uly anointed him. The privacy allowed him to watch the large man’s face as he learned to touch him. His fingers encircled the shaft, pumping up and down; his thumb slipped over the head to spread both the grease and natural moisture.
Ryanac hissed in a breath between his teeth and caught Uly’s hand in his. “Enough.” His eyes opened slowly. “Keep that up, and it’ll be over. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting.”
Knowing what Ryanac wanted, Uly tried to get into position. He quickly realised this wasn’t going to work. He frowned at Ryanac’s answering smile. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Far from it. I’m frustrated on your behalf. Uly, just about any position a man and a woman can do, so can you. You want help?”
Squirming under that intense gaze, it took effort, but he nodded. He gaped and ached, feeling empty without at least the crystal inside him. He didn’t know why Ryanac insisted he be on top, but it was quite possible he would agree to anything right this minute if it meant that he and Ryanac finally fucked. He didn’t know why he wanted this so much, why this minute, but he did. Maybe he was just tired of feeling uncertain, tired of waiting. If he were careful, they could share pleasure and he could still keep a small part of his heart in reserve.
When he felt the first nudge, he changed his mind. A warm hand embraced the back of his neck. “I’m not too big for you. I’m just right. Don’t flinch. Feel.” Ryanac punctuated the words with kisses, arching his spine, angling himself up into Uly as he did. Feeling was the problem. The breach eased more than one kind of tightness. They managed the first couple of inches, which left Uly trembling physically and emotionally. Ryanac lay back slowly, his hands guiding. He rocked his hips gently.
“Take over,” he instructed, and instinctively, Uly knew how. He didn’t have to think about it, didn’t want to. His body knew what it wanted, and he let it rule over his heart. He rose up, pushed down, dropping lower with each downward motion. His fingers clawed at the chest beneath him. He scratched, rocked, plunged, and plummeted. He barely heard when Ryanac told him that was the way to use him. He already knew.
The Swithin Chronicles 3: The Comet Cometh Page 12
