"You're perfect,” Wilhelm growled, undone by the passion they shared. “Love you, my sweet Marcus, oh god...” He thrust deeply, precisely, wringing ecstasy from each slide in and out.
Marcus had thought he would never enjoy anything again, let alone making love with the most beautiful man in the world. He moaned Wilhelm's name with each thrust, gasping and trembling. He held onto his lover's strong arms, pushed to the edge of his control more quickly then ever.
Nothing existed outside the room, the bed, the beautiful man under him. Wilhelm was completely entranced, making love to Marcus more completely than he'd ever done. He'd never felt more connected to another person. It was even more intense because he'd almost lost him. He drove deep, striving to give Marcus the maximum pleasure, and he reached down to stroke him as well.
When Wilhelm's fingers curled around his cock, Marcus cried out and arched up. It only took a stroke or two before he was coming hard, nearly screaming Wilhelm's name as the edges of his vision grayed out.
Marcus was even more beautiful when he came, and Wilhelm followed helplessly, gasping as he emptied himself inside his lover. It felt even better than before.
Marcus smiled adoringly at Wilhelm. “I love you,” he whispered.
"Oh, Marcus. I love you so much,” Wilhelm declared, gazing back at him. He would never be away from Marcus more than necessary, no matter what. He couldn't live without him. “Stay with me forever."
When Wilhelm shifted off of him, Marcus instantly curled around his body. “Forever. You'll always be the Master of my heart."
Dragon's Fate
by Eliza Gayle
Also by Eliza Gayle
Taken By Tarot
Submissive Secrets
Prologue
The bones rattled together in the bag as she walked. Ancient dragon bones collected from the clan Seers over the centuries. For ages her family had walked this same path, helping the Dragon kind find their way during troubling times. The air in the cave, cold and damp, chilled her to the bone. The conditions perfect for the future.
Coming upon the clearing, she paused to feel the power surging through the cavern. Drops of moisture could be heard hitting the dirt floor. Her body trembled with a slight fear that was unavoidable in the face of such ancient power. The earthy scents filled her mind as she took a deep calming breath before proceeding.
Her hand reached into her pockets, withdrawing the four crystals. She swept across the room, staging the crystals in the four corners, balancing the power within the space. Providing the anchor and focus for a reading.
Pulling her black leather pouch from its spot on her hip, she rattled the bones by shaking the bag, listening to the scrape and rattle. Her nerves sizzled in anticipation. The time was upon her to determine the fate of a warrior who troubled her in dreams for far too long.
Crouching at the well-worn altar, she spilled the bones, watching them tumble from the bag, her breath catching in her throat. Looking down at the markings and pattern of the bones, her vision blurred as the prophecy formed in her mind.
The time had come for the blue dragon to learn and accept his fate. The clan was in dire need of new leadership and the challenge was upon them to find a new leader. One to teach the others their role in the clan. Faith was building in the rise of Kian, but the Oracle was less clear. Kian's path splintered, making it difficult to see but the one thing she was certain of...
Trouble was coming.
Chapter One
"Oh, hell no!” Garon raged, pacing away from his father's throne, body coiled tight. He watched the guards move a bit closer to his father's side. An offensive move that as a warrior he could appreciate, but it bristled him nonetheless. What did they think he was going to do? Attack his own father? He struggled to bank down his anger before he addressed him again. Too bad the sight of the Dragon standing in front of his father turned his stomach. He'd successfully avoided the Unseelie and it had been years since he'd even laid eyes on one of their kind. Forcing back memories of a different time and a different dragon, Garon looked back at his father.
"You know I won't do this. You will have to get someone else to do it.” Thoughts of other trainers and their dumb luck traveled through him until he hit upon the perfect solution. “Sire, I believe Cirdan to be the man for this job.” The thoughts of what his cousin would do to the likes of that Dragon gave him no pause whatsoever. Cirdan the sadist was just what any Dragon would deserve.
"Garon.” His father's booming voice brought him back to their conversation abruptly. “That was not a request. It was an order. An order given by your king and one you will carry out without question.” As always his father spoke with his trademark cold and lifeless tone when addressing with his eldest son. Never showing an ounce of emotion. “You will take young Kian of Levanti here and train him in the art of Dominance and Submission as your apprentice. His king has specifically requested your services and I have agreed.” Despite his father's calm demeanor, Garon felt his verbal blow as if he'd been struck by the handle of a sword to the side of his head.
His own father had infused his words with a push of power strong enough to knock him over. His vision blurred as he fought to stay upright. He refused to give the bastard the satisfaction of even flinching. His breath clogged in his throat at the crushing pressure of his windpipe. He fought the urge to claw at his throat while all eyes in the room watched for his reaction. Garon watched the amusement swimming in the king's eyes while he struggled, knowing full well the pleasure he would receive if he gave in and showed any sign of weakness. No matter, Garon's discipline, training, and sheer force of will would have him passing out, half dead, which he was dangerously close to doing, before he would move a muscle.
"Any more questions, son?” His emphasis on the word son chilled him to the bone. Unfortunately his own silence was understood by all present as an agreement. A sign of respect for the king. What a load of shit. He couldn't speak now if he tried. The Dragon turned and moved away from his place by the throne giving way to the next order of business. When he passed by Garon it was that instant the king decided to release his hold on his throat and an involuntary groan escaped his lips.
"Did you say something?” The arrogance dripped from every syllable.
"Don't push your luck, Dragon. You may be here at the wishes of my king, but I control you now.” Garon eyed the male standing in front of him. His breast plate and leathers covered most of his large muscular frame, but the deep blue tint of his skin drew Garon's eye to his bulging arms and thick neck.
He sported the long hair that was expected from a warrior of his class, and for a moment an unwanted vision of Garon's beefy hands wrapped around those strands—pushing the Dragon to his knees—invaded his thoughts. How long would he have to wait before the man would beg for his cock? Unexpectedly his balls tightened and his dick lengthened in anticipation. He shook his head to clear the traitorous thoughts, hoping for some relief from the pressure in his pants.
He lifted his gaze to meet the Dragon, but the look in his eyes didn't show the proper respect Garon expected. In fact, the little shit looked like he was enjoying this whole thing. He snarled in response before swiveling, turning his back on him. His father knew how he felt about the dragons. He'd seen the damage Garon suffered first hand. But nonetheless, this is what his father wanted, and what that bastard wanted he got.
Garon wasn't sure how much more of this he would tolerate. His need for control was all consuming, which was why he was such a good submissive trainer. His brand of control was strict and demanding, and those who fought it were dealt with quickly and efficiently to bring them in line with their true submissive needs. Unfortunately, more times than not, his trainees grew too attached, and sending them on their way usually became a sticky matter. Yet, he loved his work. Receiving the gift of submission, no matter how brief, always gave him powerful pleasure. A high like nothing else. Unfortunately he didn't want this assignment. With a quick stride he left the room without ano
ther word, daring the Dragon to follow.
* * * *
Kian watched Garon the “Mighty” walk away from him. He'd heard the stories about Garon for years and had looked forward to meeting him, feeling lucky that he would train under him. But now as he stomped from the room, Kian's second thoughts flared to life all over again. When the seer had come to him with her crystals and prophecies, he'd had no choice but to heed her words. He didn't feel like the chosen one. In fact, he preferred to go back to his life and just go where the fights were when he was needed and fuck when he felt like it. No strings. No responsibilities. Just do as he was told.
Instead he stood in the Seelie court, shunned by the prince who would train him. But the king's orders were law and he couldn't afford that kind of trouble so he reluctantly followed after Prince Garon as he led the way from the throne room.
The royal home was enormous, and Kian wondered what Garon's quarters would be like or where he would stay while here. So he was rather surprised when Garon led him out of the house and deep into the forest surrounding the palace. He followed the man through rough and rocky terrain, all the while wondering what the hell he was up to.
Finally after a couple of hours of following in silence he couldn't take it anymore. “Sir, err—Prince Garon, where are we going?” The stubborn Faery said nothing. Just kept moving. “You do realize, sir, that if we have a long way to travel, I could fly us there.” He watched Garon's back as he kept going with nary a hesitation at any of Kian's words. The prince's torso was bare of clothing except for the leather strap he wore across his back. And sheathed in that strap were several knives of varying lengths and shapes, not to mention the other weapons that were probably strapped to his body that Kian couldn't see. He could picture those weapons clearly. With the size and stature of the man in front of him it didn't take much imagination to envision a leather strap wrapped around his brawny leg. There were probably a couple of spare weapons packed into the leather pouches of his breeches. Not to mention what else was hidden underneath the fabric.
Those unwelcome images stiffened his cock as he continued to think about sliding his hands inside those leathers discovering for himself what lies underneath. He'd never been with a Fae man and was curious about his wings that even now shimmered across his back in a tattoo like appearance. Would they emerge from his smooth skin when he was excited? Or would they burst forth at the moment he came, when he momentarily lost control?
Hmmm. Somehow I doubt this man knows what it feels like to lose control.
Lost in his thoughts of sex and control, Kian failed to notice that Garon had stopped moving until he plowed into his back. It was like hitting a solid brick wall. The man was all hard muscle and bone covered in sleek skin. His musky essence permeated his nostrils causing the dragon to stir within him. Heat and power coiled in his belly as he fought to bank down his desires.
Garon surged away from him before he could catch his breath. When he turned to face Kian his dagger was drawn and coiled to strike.
"What the fuck is your problem, Dragon?” His brown eyes glittered with anger as the cold as ice statement cooled Kian's heated body.
"Whoa. Chill out. It was just an accident.” Kian slowly backed away as the murderous look in the prince's face faded away.
"Unless you want to lose something important, I suggest you be more careful."
Garon's attitude with him was beginning to wear him down. They didn't know each other, so there was no cause for this treatment.
"Do you mind explaining what your problem is with me? You've treated me like shit since the moment we met. What the hell?"
Garon re-sheathed his weapon, rolling his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths. “I don't do dragons. In fact, I want nothing to do with your kind."
"Why the hell not? What did we ever do to you?” For a split second something flashed in Garon's eyes before it was replaced with his trademark cold glare. He stalked forward, coming close. There was a lethal calmness in his eyes, but Kian didn't back down. He could fight if need be.
"What I like or don't like is no concern of yours. You need to learn now that I'm the one in control here and I will ask the questions.” Garon's lowered voice rumbling near his ear skated along Kian's spine sending chills across his fiery skin. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn and feel the Fae's lips pressed against his own.
This is so not a good sign.
"Now, let's go. We've reached our destination.” He led Kian through a final dense thicket of brush before pushing their way into a huge meadow. And he was right. There in the middle of nowhere stood a grand stone house with a couple of smaller out buildings off to the side and behind it. While it was no King's castle it was still quite impressive. Just the kind of place Kian would love for himself someday.
"You ready to get started, Dragon?"
"Right now?"
"Why not? The sooner we get started the sooner we get done.” Together they walked into the house and Kian marveled at the simple beauty of it. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but the elegant surroundings weren't it. Hell, the man was known throughout the Otherworld as the ultimate warrior and submissive trainer, yet when walking into his home he was surrounded by comfortable and plush furnishings without a whip or weapon in sight.
"What's wrong, Dragon? You don't like my house?” Garon flopped down onto the couch, filling it up with his hulking presence. His bronzed skin blended with the leather of the couch, presenting an inviting picture to Kian. Damn, he was here to become a stronger Dominant, yet right this instant he could only picture himself on his knees between the prince's legs, freeing his cock from the tight leathers so he could wrap his fingers around the stout base, slipping its head between his lips.
Oh, Goddess. He needed to get a grip. Garon couldn't stand the sight of him, let alone the idea of sharing their bodies together. Oh man, he should have gotten fucked before coming here. His balls ached to spill in release, and he was certain it wouldn't take Garon long to notice.
"No, sir, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it? Tell me. Now."
"Given your position, er—reputation, I expected something a little more functional for our training.” Garon's eyes sparkled, and for a moment Kian thought he might smile.
"We won't be doing any training in this part of the house, Dragon. But you have nothing to worry about, I have a full on dungeon downstairs.” Garon's voice lowered as he continued. “It's an excellent facility for anything your imagination can conjure that you want to do to the perfect little subbie.” Kian's cock tightened further at the sensual tone of Garon's voice, and it took every ounce of restraint not to cover himself when Garon's gaze traveled to his crotch. Something changed in the prince's eyes when he noticed his hard on, something sexual and aggressive emanated from the big man. His hands clenched into tight fists before extending each finger flexing his hand back open. When he stalked towards Kian, he backed away his jaw tightening.
"What's the matter, Dragon?"
"Sir, my name is Kian. It would be fine if you call me Kian.” His words came out jilted and stiff, giving away his nervousness at the close proximity of the Fae Prince. Fuck.
"I know your name, I just prefer to call you Dragon, so get used to it.” His words came out harsh but a devilish look came into his eyes as his words took on a more sensual tone as he edged closer to Kian. “Are you afraid of me, Dragon?"
"No.” His answer came out fast and harsh. He felt like prey being stalked in the woods by a vicious predator.
"Get on your knees, boy."
Chapter Two
The dragon's head jerked up at the request, his eyes glowed with a savage inner fire when they met Garon's gaze. He could see the war going on inside. The bastard actually wanted to do it.
When he'd spied the massive erection in the man's pants his curiosity had bloomed, and he'd decided to intimidate the Dragon. Instead, his own heat built in his gut, and he had an overwhelming urge to push the Dragon hims
elf down to his knees.
Despite his anger towards Dragons in general he couldn't help but admire the physique of the other man. The blue tint of his skin had darkened to a rich royal color when he'd become aroused, emphasizing the sinewy musculature of his exposed arms. He was certain the chest hidden underneath the warrior clothing would be nothing less than spectacular. The Dragon kind had always been known for impressive physiques and sexual prowess.
"You can take all that garb off if you want to. You won't be needing it here.” Garon inclined his head towards the armor and weaponry strategically placed all over his form. “The only battle you're going to be in here is a mental one. A total power exchange, if you will, and your only weapons will be sexual in nature.” Heat flared from the Dragon, enveloping Garon in a near scorching blast. His own cock twitched and strained against his leathers seeking more of that heat.
Garon didn't back off as Kian removed his breast plate and weapons, tossing them in the nearby chair, instead his back itched with a slight burn of his own as his wings threatened to burst forth from his skin.
When Garon caught sight of the bare blue chest of the Dragon he imagined the strength and power that would erupt between them when they fucked. Garon's erection lay long and heavy inside his breeches, and he struggled against his natural urge to push the man into submission. The Dragon's heat lured and seduced, but he maintained his discipline despite the musky scent of their lust, almost sending him over the edge. No one had ever triggered the heat he felt at this moment. But why the hell is it coming from this Dragon?
The power struggle continued as Garon stayed silent, waiting for Kian to comply with his wishes. He refused to waver from his original command, anxious to see what the Dragon would do. When the man sank to his knees with deliberate care, Garon's breath hitched in his throat as the familiar awareness of control washed over him. When the Dragon bowed his head in respect, Garon's keen perception told him something was not quite right about the whole situation.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III Page 10
