Clan and Conscience

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Clan and Conscience Page 21

by Tracy St. John

Rivek steepled his fingers, looking over them at Ospar. “I understand that sense of loyalty, that need to repay a debt. Ospar, tell me something. If your uncles were all for you stepping away from the company to pursue politics—”

  “Ha!” Ospar couldn’t keep from barking the disbelieving laugh.

  Rivek chuckled at his quick reaction. “Let’s pretend then, for the sake of this discussion. If they told you to follow your political dreams and run for territorial council, would you do it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You didn’t even stop to think about it.” Rivek laughed at his enthusiasm.

  Ospar took the Imdiko’s reaction to mean he should stop and consider the matter from other angles. “I guess I should consider Jol’s feelings too, shouldn’t I? As well as Tebrok and Sallid.”

  Jol pretended amazement. “Don’t. I’ll fall over from shock.”

  “Just answer the question,” Ospar snapped. He regretted it immediately. He moved close to his clanmate and knelt beside him. “Sorry. I don’t mean to lash out at you.”

  The Nobek waved his hand, indicating he hadn’t taken offense. “I already gave you my opinion, as best as I was able to when you asked me at the office. I’m not sure. It’s a huge opportunity—”

  “Immense. The chance to do something about the regulations and crime in this territory is so much bigger in that arena.”

  “And more dangerous, since Councilman Anerwa thinks that Lanjur is in the pay of the syndicate,” Rivek pointed out.

  Jol folded his arms over his chest with a glare for his Dramok. “The death threats will be rolling in again. I’m hiring extra security. You can afford it.”

  “I haven’t said I’d run,” Ospar pointed out.

  “Because of, and only because of your uncles and the guilt you feel over leaving Itga,” Rivek said.

  The Imdiko was spot-on. Rivek’s usual insight had gotten to the crux of the matter.

  He sighed. “They’ve done so much for me.”

  “Does that give them the justification to demand that you drop all your aspirations to make them happy?”

  “No, no, that’s not how they are at all. They’ll be disappointed though.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you before,” Jol smarted off.

  Ospar glared at him, ready to give him a blistering telling off. Jol winked.

  The Dramok relaxed and offered a lazy, half-hearted swing at his clanmate’s jaw. Jol grabbed his fist and pressed his lips to his fingers before releasing him.

  Their horsing around done, Ospar looked at Rivek once more. The priest was watching their interaction with a wistful look—or so he imagined. The expression was gone so fast, he decided he’d been mistaken.

  Rivek said, “You’ve done well by your uncles. Itga is the largest mining company in the Empire. The Eruz contract alone will guarantee its future. Isn’t that enough to pay back all they’ve done for you?”

  “I thought it would be. In fact, I promised myself that if I won them Eruz, I’d start working on my political future.” Remembering that startled Ospar. It hadn’t been the first time he’d put off his dreams of politics because he had one more thing to accomplish at Itga.

  Was he afraid of the challenge? Politics had called to him for several years, and there was always an excuse to delay his foray into the arena.

  The moment is now. No more postponements. If I’m going to ever do this, I can’t wait another second.

  “This is why I came beating down your door, Master Rivek. You cut through the garbage that clutters my mind—shut up, Jol—and help me to see what I need most to see. Thank you.”

  “The pleasure is mine.”

  The word pleasure, spoken in that resonant purr of the Imdiko’s voice, conjured different thoughts for Ospar. His decision was made. A celebration was due. He could start by taking his Nobek home for a little fun.

  However, his gaze remained on Rivek. It was too bad he couldn’t add an Imdiko to his revels. Such a discerning mind, coupled with that magnificent body, excited him. Along with that chiseled, handsome face. The initial attraction Ospar had felt for Rivek hadn’t diminished in the least. Indeed, it had grown.

  Rivek’s brow lifted, and Ospar realized he’d been looking at him with obvious intent. He smirked, admitting where his head had been. He attempted to show better manners.

  “I must make a donation to the temple to show my appreciation for your counsel. Is there anything in particular you require funding for, or would you prefer a big wad of cash?”

  Rivek continued to look at him speculatively, his serene face taking on a darker cast. “Preservation and repairs of the temple have been much on our minds as of late. Anything you care to give us will be received with the greatest of gratitude.”

  “Excellent. I feel as if I owe you too. Can I offer you anything? Some personal charity to give to, a cause you believe in?”

  Rivek looked from him to Jol and back again. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. Now it was he who stared significantly. “There is a matter of curiosity I can’t shake off however hard I try. Perhaps if the two of you indulge me, it will settle things.”

  Ospar felt rather than saw Jol go still. Wild hope filled him. “Indulge? Are you saying what I think you are?”

  Rivek’s smile was as predatory as any Jol had ever worn. “You and Jol have fascinated me to distraction. I wish to meditate without the constant nagging wonder of what sex with you might be like.”

  He was saying what Ospar wanted to hear. The Dramok’s cocks perked up. A glance at Jol’s avid expression told him his Nobek was as enthusiastic at the prospect.

  Rivek’s chuckled, not needing them to give their answers out loud. “Excellent. Door close and lock.”

  Rivek was as relieved as he was aroused. At last, he could cure the disruption to his tranquility brought by this distracting pair. Thank the ancestors they showed all the signs of being ready to humor his interests with equal desire. The scent of spicy arousal was a clear indication of that.

  When they continued to sit at his table however, neither recovering from surprise, the Imdiko decided it was up to him to get things moving. It amused him that such decisive males as Ospar and Jol could be shocked into stillness. He managed not to chuckle at their hesitation.

  He stood, untying his corded sash with practiced ease. Stepping to the wall peg where he hung his things when exercising—or enjoying an impromptu liaison in his chambers—he swept each layer of his robes off.

  As he peeled down to his training shorts, he pointed to the freestanding cabinet in the corner. “If you look in there, I am fine with the use of any of those instruments—giving or receiving.”

  Ospar blinked at him, too surprised to move. Or perhaps he was in no hurry, his gaze fixed on Rivek as the priest shed off his clothes. He’d worn the same enthralled expression the day he’d come upon Rivek stretching. The Dramok’s preoccupation made Rivek feel good about his physique. His gaze was worth a thousand compliments.

  Ospar had frozen, but Jol wasted no time jumping up, wearing a devilish grin. He didn’t run to the cabinet, but he didn’t lag either. His look was hopeful anticipation.

  Ospar finally remembered how to move. He stood, and it was Rivek’s turn to peruse. In his clothing, custom-fitted to his body to show it to advantage, the Dramok was a mouthwatering sight. Seeing Ospar as a sensual being, instead of a person in need of counsel, brought a surge of renewed desire.

  The Imdiko stepped up to him and ran his palms over Ospar’s chest, feeling the firm body beneath the expensive clothes. “Did my request surprise you, Ospar?”

  “I wasn’t sure my interest in having sex with you would be welcome.” Ospar didn’t touch him, though his hands twitched as if he wanted to.

  “Is your hesitation because I’m a priest?”

  “I know temple masters enjoy themselves, but I thought—well, with all the tranquility and higher consciousness—sex seems so, so beneath it all.”

  Rivek didn’t ha
ve a chance to respond. Jol’s choked cough interrupted their conversation.

  Rivek looked at him, realizing the Nobek had been silent before his cabinet for at least a minute. He barely quelled the urge to laugh as he noted Jol’s shocked expression. The man’s eyes were wide as he looked within the open storage container.

  With effort, Rivek was able to keep his tone noncommittal. “Yes, Jol? Don’t worry; we don’t have to use anything you deem too extreme.”

  Jol didn’t respond to the teasing jibe. “Is this a temple or a pleasure club?”

  That did it. Rivek gave in to the humor of the moment, laughing loudly. The typical Kalquorian’s dull image of priests never failed to amuse him.

  His peers had also encountered such prejudices. There were classes offered to the clerics on how to deal with new lovers who had never been with spiritual masters. Those outside of temple life tended to get intimidated when they found out how much priests enjoyed sex—and how inventive a serene mind could be when intimacies were involved.

  Recovering from the spate of humor, Rivek told Jol, “Select something Ospar would like. Ospar, you choose something Jol would enjoy. Then I’ll select something I enjoy—something you can use on me. Is that fair?”

  Jol nodded, agog by the rows of floggers, crops, whips, binds, harnesses, gags, hoods, blindfolds, butt plugs, dildos—and whatever else Rivek had stockpiled and forgotten about. Ospar drifted over to join his clanmate and gaped at the tantalizing collection. Rivek followed the Dramok.

  The Imdiko had a potent imagination, and every tool and toy held potential when it came to his visitors. He could visualize putting them in any number of positions, positions in which he could bring them and himself great sensual bliss. However, he was with a couple of dominating personalities. Neither Ospar nor Jol would be inclined towards some of the play he’d love to subject them to. At least, not their first time with him.

  And only time. I will satisfy my urges and be able to move on.

  The thought gave him a second’s pause. Rivek hadn’t considered how little could be accomplished with a single encounter. He hesitated, wondering if he really did want to surrender.

  It was his chamber and therefore his rules. He could take the lead, but he’d dealt Ospar and Jol enough surprises already. He didn’t mind submitting, even if being in charge was equally enjoyable.

  He felt a pang of remorse that he’d planned on only the one encounter. Maybe he should leave options open to an additional encounter. If things went well today, and if they ever got together like this again, he could seize the opportunity to show his own alpha instincts.

  It was a consideration. For now, Rivek would attend to the moment and enjoy the relaxation of giving himself over to Ospar and Jol.

  He observed his guests, wondering what they might choose for each other. Jol was eyeing the cock stimulators, along with wrist and ankle ties. Ospar licked his lips as he contemplated dildos and leather straps.

  Excellent. Exciting. The things holding their interest indicated a possible interest in erotic torment, a kind of play high on Rivek’s list of preferences. Armed with some knowledge of his visitors’ predilections, he gripped Ospar’s shoulders and nudged him aside.

  Rivek selected four leather cuffs that could be clipped together, a double cockring, nipple clamps, and a jaw brace. Noting the raised eyebrows from the other two, he reassured them, “You don’t have to use them all on me if you don’t wish, though you’re welcome to.” Cradling his goodies, he opened a drawer within the cabinet. Along with the pain inhibitor inhalants, massage oils, and flavored gels, he found his favorite sensitizing gel and added that to his selections.

  Anticipation heating his hardening shafts, he went over to the mat where he stretched. He lined his prizes up along the edge and pulled off his shorts, sighing at the relief of freeing his cocks from the tight confines. They stood out from his groin, slick and ready for attention. Rivek stroked himself with a smile as he looked at the staring Ospar and Jol.

  “Mother of All,” Ospar muttered. He grabbed a paddle and a nice, fat butt plug and headed over.

  Jol snatched a stimulating double cock sleeve and a harness with wrist cinchers. He was on Ospar’s heels, reaching the mat at the same second as his Dramok. Ospar ended up being closest to Rivek, however, so the priest grabbed him.

  Staring into Ospar’s startled purple eyes, Rivek pulled open the front seam of the would-be politician’s shirt. “Please let me serve you in a way I believe you will enjoy,” the Imdiko said, knowing his actions might be interpreted as controlling to a Dramok. “Allow me to undress and explore you.”

  “Please.” Ospar sounded breathless as Rivek tugged, peeling the shirt’s sleeves from his arms. “Explore all you wish.”

  Rivek took him at his word. He started with their initial kiss, cupping the Dramok’s face and lowering his face to taste the other man’s lips.

  Such soft, pliable lips. The priest tested the textures. Ospar yielded to him, then firmed to kiss back. The Dramok circled Rivek’s waist, pulling him close so that the Imdiko’s erections were nestled snug and warm between their bodies. Rivek delighted in his slick members against the smooth, taut flesh of Ospar’s belly. It was almost as heady as the slightly salty flavor of the Dramok’s kiss.

  Ospar’s lips parted open, and he tasted Rivek in kind. With an approving moan, the priest’s tongue twined around its mate. Rivek made love to Ospar’s mouth and tongue, pushing inside, flicking, stroking, investigating every nuance. His senses fired when Ospar returned every lick and thrust and exploration with his own. Their tongues dancing sinuously together sent flares of heated sensation straight to Rivek’s shafts. They swelled with rhythmic throbs, pulsing with growing urgency as Ospar ground against him.

  Rivek pulled loose of the kiss and released his grip on Ospar’s strong jaw. “Such a charming mouth,” he told the gasping Dramok as he slid his hands down the velvety skin of his throat, chest, and abdomen. “The smile, the flattery, the kiss—you should be forced to register that mouth as a weapon.”

  “Tell Jol that,” Ospar said in a strained voice as Rivek tugged at his pants. “He’s forever threatening to punch it.”

  The Nobek’s chuckle sent a thrill up Rivek’s spine. Jol stood to one side, watching his Dramok and the priest getting to know each other, his pants tented in a most complimentary fashion. “That was when we first got together. I’ve revised the urge to shut him up with my fist to shutting him up with my cocks. Or a gag while I plug his ass. Either way, I’m happy.”

  Ospar opened the mouth that Rivek found so delightful. Whatever retort he was about to voice was silenced by the priest shoving his pants down. “Shoes off please, Ospar.” He knelt.

  The Dramok gazed down at him, his eyes going glassy to see Rivek face-level with his now-naked lengths. “Ancestors,” he whispered.

  He toed off the shoes, and Rivek finished undressing him. The priest held his hand out to Jol. “The cock sleeves?”

  Jol was almost as mesmerized as Ospar. Staring, he gave the device to the priest.

  Rivek smiled up at the Dramok’s dazed face. “This will enhance your enjoyment while I study the rest of you. With any luck, it will keep you from feeling impatient. I don’t wish to hurry our encounter.”

  “No. No hurry,” Ospar said, his tone suggesting he’d agree to anything Rivek wanted.

  “The harness Jol brought over will help you with that as well. It will allow me to serve you as you should be served.”

  As if it would somehow prove his point, Rivek punctuated his statement by sucking Ospar’s secondary shaft into his mouth. He released it slowly and signaled to Jol before sucking the Dramok in deep once again.

  Jol went to work strapping the black leather harness on his clanmate, getting it buckled onto his torso with lightning-fast speed. Ospar appeared not to notice, his glazed stare on Rivek as the Imdiko drew on his larger phallus next. He didn’t resist when Jol bound his wrists to the waist cinches, leaving him helpless to
push away. Rivek held his gaze as he enveloped and released his rigid primary once, twice, and a third time.

  “I enjoy how you fill my mouth, Ospar,” Rivek told him, leaning back to claim the sensitizing gel at the edge of the mat. “Hot and hard, your pulse pounding against my tongue.”

  Ospar made a sound deep in his throat. He repeated it as Rivek rubbed his cocks, coating them in the sensitizer.

  “Yes, this is going to be amazing,” Rivek assured him. “I’m going to attend to all your needs. Just be patient with me.”

  He wasn’t submitting as he’d said he would. However, with Ospar aroused, Rivek was sure the Dramok wouldn’t mind too much. Especially if he continued to play it as if he performed at Ospar’s behest.

  This was not Rivek’s first seduction, not by any means. He’d learned a thing or two about giving demanding Dramoks a sense of control while he called the shots.

  With Ospar prepared, Rivek slid the combined cock sleeves on his lengths. The molding material closed over his twitching shafts, enclosing them in a snug grip. Rivek turned the controls to the lowest setting. The sensitizing cream should make it enough to keep the Dramok happy while Rivek looked over the rest of his prize. He switched the sleeves on.

  The innermost layers of each sleeve performed a gentle pumping action, and Ospar staggered with a sharp intake of breath. His hips jolted forward, taking him off-balance. Rivek smiled and tugged at his arms. “You’d better come down here with me. Help him to his knees, would you, Jol?”

  The Nobek obeyed, enthralled with watching Rivek bring his Dramok to heel. Or to knees, as it turned out. The priest gave Jol a quick look-over, his contentment deepening. He was going to enjoy the dangerous protector in due time.

  But for now, Ospar. The bound Dramok’s hips jerked as the sleeves worked his sensitized erections. He looked at Rivek in a helpless thrall.

  Excellent. The Imdiko could settle the matter of his interest in the man once and for all.

  He started by kissing those sensuous lips again. As he delighted himself with Ospar’s rough-velvet mouth, he ran his hands down the Dramok’s back, down to the enchanting curve of his ass. He kneaded that flesh, appreciating how it molded so well to his palms.

 

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