For Lord and Land

For Lord and Land
By: Delilah deSora
Chapter 2


**

What am I to do?

Lord Dorjan came to me today, telling me that Ardel has officially become the Emperor and that I must continue my duties with more vigor. He said it so simply. Does he not understand how hard this task is for me? Does he not understand that my heart still aches for the loss you, Mercaida?

Oh, my lord, how am I to do this? How can I betray you with your own son?

But that is a foolish thing for me to write, isn’t it? It isn’t really betraying you, not really. Not if I do not give him my heart. No, my heart will always belong to the father, never the son. It may seem a harsh thing to write but it is true. Mercaida was the only man who never looked at me with pity because of my defect. I knew what the servants said amongst themselves while they attended me. They thought that because I could not hear their words I could not understand them. But I did. I read it from their lips and the way they looked at me.

They thought me flawed. They did not understand why the Emperor would accept a creature such as myself. They thought that I should be drowned in my own pool so that my taint did not touch the Emperor. I had laughed at that. I almost wished they had tried it. Wouldn’t that have been a surprise when I failed to die no matter how long they held me beneath the water?

I feared them, though. I had feared that the Emperor would share their views. That he would be disgusted with me. I had been wrong. Emperor Mercaida had opened his heart and taken this poor broken creature into it. He had been the only one to ever try to understand me. I had despaired of ever being able to communicate with him but he sat with me, night after night, learning my way of speech.

No one but my own mother had ever done that before.

Oh Mercaida, how could you leave me like this? What am I to do? I would follow you into death but I know I cannot. Your son needs me and he was ever your greatest happiness. You never said so but I am deaf, not blind. I saw it every time you looked at him. I saw the way love filled your eyes. But how am I to serve him? He doesn’t understand me! I see fear in his eyes when he looks upon me and I have no way to tell him the things he must know! I have no way to tell him that I am not the one he should fear.

How can I calm him when I can’t even touch him without seeing him flinch in fear? I am afraid, my lord. I am afraid that I am doing this poorly. I am afraid that I am hurting him. He doesn’t understand my touches and I do not know how else to show him. I have tried to give him pleasure but all my touch seems to bring him is pain. He is too young and inexperienced. He doesn’t understand what Dorjan has told him about the powers you have passed on to him. He doesn’t understand what I am here for.

We are locked in a world of confusion with no way to speak to one another.

And there is another. A new captain of the guard. I fear him for he stares at me with his strangely colored eyes and I can see my own death there. He frightens me more than anything else because I can almost hear his voice in my mind. \"I will be the death of you.\" It whispers to me. \"I will take this boy as my own. I will destroy him.\"

Why do I fear him so? I do not know. He has never made a threatening move against me. He has never spoken ill of me when the servants whisper or when Ardel himself shrinks from my presence. But still, the words are there, reflected in his eyes and his soft smile. There is nothing I can do about it, though. Kaze was your captain\'s second and since his superior accompanied you into death there is nothing I can do. No words I can write to explain why I do not want him anywhere near your son.

He never leaves your son\'s side for those responsible for your death still have not been captured. Oh a few common criminals were executed but they were not the ones who killed you. I can see this truth on Dorjan\'s face and in the way that Ardel is never left without a guard to protect him. Your killer is still at large and I fear he will strike again. Do you have any idea how terrible it is for me to wonder who will move against your son first? Will it be the man who has already struck once? Or will it be the man who stares at me with his eyes that see too much?

Please, Mercaida, tell me what to do before I fail you and this land! Before I lose your son.

I am afraid. The future is dark without you, my lord. How can I protect what was dear to you when I can’t even get beyond this grief? How can I serve the son when all I can think of is the father? How can I act when every part of me is frozen in fear?

I must go now.

He has returned.

-Tamerin Llyr
Emperor’s Leviathan
Year 2033


**

Cian’s heart was breaking.

He watched as his father, a man who had always been the mold he had modeled himself after, collapsed next to the coffin, his hands fisting in the maroon flag that had been draped across the carefully carved box. His eyes were clenched shut but Cian could see the tears that escaped and it made him want to flee in betrayed coion.ion.

He had never seen his father cry. Not even when his horse had fallen, spearing his leg clean through on the iron fencing that surrounded their estate. He had clearly been in pain but never had tears fallen from his steady brown eyes. His father was crying now and it pained him in a way that he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

Strangely mothmother was not weeping. She sat, staring straight ahead as though a million miles from the small room. Her face remained dry and the slight frown that marred her thin lips was not one of grief.

Cian longed to go to her, to hold her until she released the pain that he knew must exist somewhere within her at the death of her youngest son, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. When he had returned with thes ofs of his brother’s death she had stared at him in a way that made his skin crawl and he had been loath to approach her since.

No son should see his mother stare at him as though he were a stranger.

He shook his head and focused on the red flag, drawing strength from the Emperor’s own crest. I, Cian Kaemon, do solemnly swear to dedicate my life, my strength, my will, and all that I am to the service of my lord and land. He repeated the ancient litany to himself, over and over again in his mind.

He wasn’t sure when he began to add my brother to that litany but when he realized the error he shuddered and tore his eyes from the golden dragon.

What was wrong with him?

True, he had not expected it to go so far. He had thought the Emperor had a special task for the man they had been searching for and when he had seen his brother, a man he thought kept no secrets from him, resurface as though from the dead he had been annoyed. All that time, time that could have been spent doing one of the thousand things requested of the Knighthood, wasted.

In the end he was forced to admit that he had not been annoyed with his brother for not revealing himself, after all Dante had never been told of their mother’s line. No, it was the sting of knowing that his little brother, who had always seemed so guileless and dependant on him, didn’t need him as much as he had thought.

It stung and Cian wondered if his hasty revelation of their line to Lord Errol had been because of duty or because of his annoyance.

He had returned to the beach to find Lord Errol and Dante gone. He’d searched and then returned to the room where a message telling him to return to the fortress had been waitinr hir him. He’d taken the next boat out and upon returning had been swept away to Lord Dorjan’s office.

‘Your brother is dead.’ He’d been informed. For a terrible moment he had believed the statement, thinking that Dante had died returning with Errol but a piece of paper had been slipped to him and he’d relaxed, recognizing it for what it was.

‘He fell in a freak accident. Fire. A fire had broken out in a village you were passing. He went in to save a child but did not come back out. You saw him fall but there was nothing you could do. An unfortunate end for such a promising new knight. Go home, Cian. Take his . . . ‘body’ with you. He is to be laid to rest with all honors. You will tell this story to all who ask. Do you understand?’

He had understood. The Knighthood did things that were kept from the public eye and it was not the first time he had been instructed to give such a falsehood but fear had overtaken him. It was one thing to go home and tell his family that Dante had fallen only to have him return after a ‘miracle’ had occurred and he had been rescued without the knighthoods knowledge. But to go home with a body to be buried? It seemed too definite. Too final.

He had expressed his misgivings and only gotten a hard stare in return. It was then that he realized the gravity of the situation. Dante wasn’t supposed to make a miracle recovery and return home to laughs and tears. Dante was supposed to stay dead.

He had asked for information about his brother and only a clipped refusal and sharp reminder of his status compared to the Emperor’s wishes had answered him. Whatever the Emperor wished for his brother was apparently to stay between them.

And Cian read the unspoken message quite clearly. Neither he nor his family would ever know because they would never see the youngest Kaemon again. That was what the body was for. To give them closure. To solidify in their minds that they would never hear Dante’s laugh in the gardens or his deep voice in the halls again. To keep a distraught father from looking for his lost son.

Cian closed his eyes against the upwelling of pain within him. He wondered what poor soul got the honor of lying in Dante’s place in the family crypt and he wondered where his brother’s body would be placed. They had heard stories of men’s ghost’s scouring the land for what they had lost. Would Dante’s ghost wander, looking for his lost family? Would this unknown man’s ghost haunt their family crypt, wondering who these people he had been buried with were? No! Cian shouted at himself, forcing such thoughts from him for the millionth time. Dante was doing what every Knight dreamed of. Hs dos doing the Emperor’s bidding. It was what he had dedicated his life to. Had he not left his family and homeland of his own free will? Had he not suffered through the grueling tests to be accepted into the Knighthood?

Nothing had betoletolen from him that he had not been willing to give.

Those words became his new litany as he stood in the shadows and tried not to think about the pain he had brought down upon his own family.

**

Ardel moved through the darkened hall, resisting the urge to shiver at the cold that tried to seep into his bones. He was draped in five layers of cloth and still he was chilled yet those he passed wore their arms bare and complained amongst themselves of the summer heat.

He pulled the robes tighter, looking forward to the day when the chill no longer threatened. It had been so long since he had been warm. Truly warm. He had found some measure of that half remembered feeling from his childhood in his Leviathan’s arms but even that still wasn’t enough. He needed more.

A blush crept to his cheeks at the thought of the newest addition to his household and he glanced at the floor, not wanting anyone to see it. How many times had his own father told him that nobody must see anything but peaceful serenity on his face? Aidan’s didn’t show weak emotions like fear or embarrassment. They didn’t show anything but the perfection their people demanded of them.

It was tiring, to say the least.

“My lord?”

He shook himself and turned to peer questioningly at the guard behind him. His personal guard had elected a new captain, a man who seemed both gentle and firm at the same time. He had large hands and sofown own eyes that Ardel thought that he could fall into forever. He shuddered and turned away quickly. This man was a man he could take to bed.

He wondered if Dorjan had even realized his mistake.

Oh, the lord of his knights swore that he had had no influence in the choosing of the new captain of his guard but Ardel knew better. After nearly losing him to Kaze the head Knight wouldn’t have taken the chance. It had not escaped Ardel’s attention that none of Kaze’s hand picked officers had been elevated. This man had been neither Kaze’s second, third, or fourth. He had been a common officer of no importance, destined to an unremarkable life. Still, he was doing amazing well keeping the personal guard together. Ardel sensed Dorjan’s influence there as well.

It didn’t really matter, though. He had more important matters to attend to beyond worrying that an officer of one section of the army was overstepping his bounds. Later, he promised, later he would remove Dorjan’s influence and put the man back where he belonged. Later, when the flow of power in his kingdom had been put back together and this new guard was more confident of the role he’d been shoved into.

“Yes?” He asked coolly, forcing his voice to remain neutral.

“Lord Er. . . Errol,” the man stuttered, forcing himself to remove the man’s title as he was now of a higher rank than Dorjan’s second, “wishes to see you tomorrow morning to go over your court schedule for next week.”

He nodded his understanding. The guard was silent again and fell back the required three steps. Ardel ignored those he passed in the halls though he was aware of the forms that dropped to the floor on their knees. No level of society was exempted from the groveling. His father had taken a great personal amusement at watching high nobles down on the floor in their glittering jewels and fine fabr


Then again, he mused as he reached his room and the new guard held the door for him, his father had never liked the nobles very much.

**

“Cian?”

Cian jerked back to himself, turning to stare up into guarded blue eyes. “Mother?”

She came towards him and he moved to help her sit but she pulled away from him as though he had struck her. He returned to his seat while he sank down stiffly in the chair across from him.

“You said that you saw your brother’s death?” She asked with no preamble.

Cian marv at at the steadiness of his mother’s voice when speaking of her favored son’s death. He nodded dutifully. “Yes, mother. He died trying to save a child trapped in the flames.”

She was silent for a moment. “A fire?”

He nodded again.

Her eyes narrowed in anger. “I do not know whether or not to believe you, Cian. You say he died saving a child from the flames but that I do not believe.”

He blinked at her silently. That he would not be believed had never occurred to him.

“This is not the first time a son of the Llyrs has disappeared mysteriously. It is the nightmare of all of us. To be the parent of a child with the power. Oh yes,” She smiled at his shockook,ook, “I knew of Dante’s powers. And of your mission, witch hunt that it was. How could I not know? I begged him to leave the Knighthood when those powers began to develop. I told him they would make him a target but he refused.

“I knew this would happen but I did not know his end would come from his own brother’s hands! Did we not tell you to take care of him? The child that worshipped you? The child that followed you blindly! Tell me, Cian, did he follow you blindly right into his own death? Shall I think you a liar or shall I believe you? Are you parroting words from some other man’s mouth or do you tell true?

“Flames . . . let me tell you of flames, Cian. Let me tell you of the rumors that fill the sleepless nights of a Llyr mother’s mind! Those the Emperor takes never return; this much we know is true. They say that the Llyr son is sacrificed to feed the fire god’s hunger. To give power to your beloved Emperor.

“So tell me, son of mine. Is it true? Did you stand there and watch as your brother was sacrificed? Oh I believe that there was fire, for how could there not be? Isn’t the Emperor the fire god reborn? Did you stand there? Did you hear his screams as they burned my son alive?”

Cian gasped and sat back as his mother’s voice turned shrill and she stood, taking a shaking step towards him.

“That is enough Isabelle!”

She froze and Cian turned to see his father standing in the doorway. His body was stiff with weariness and his eyes red from tears.

“Our youngest son is dead, there is nothing to be done about it. Now is not the time to chase away the last remaining one who has fulfilled his obligations and brought him home so the mhe may rest peacefully among his family and the land he loved so much. Do not scream murder at him. He has been through more than any of us. At least we did not have to watch him die.”

Cian met his mother’s dark gaze and shuddered at the knowledge and hatred he saw there. She had truly meant her words. She truly thought that he had let his brother be murdered.

“I did not see him die to feed the Emperor, mother.” He whispered, the best truth he could give.

She snorted, an action so like Dante’s it made his chest hurt, telling him just how much stock she put in his words.

It was his father who came to his defense again. “Of course you didn’t. I told you, Isabelle, such things are just vicious rumors to scare the weak and the young. Besides, why would the Emperor’s men travel so far just to take our son after they had found so many other men? They could have had any Llyr in Aquilae. Why our son? A man whom most people didn’t even realize carried such blood?”

It was then that Cian realized that his father knew nothing of Dante’s powers. They had kept it from him as well. A secret shared only between youngest son and mother. For some reason that made him feel a bit better. Not so left out.

His mother turned on her heel and left, a dark cloud of anger and pain. His father’s sad eyes followed her retreating form as she fled through the white doors and out onto the sun warmed sand.

“Do not heed her words, Cian,” His father said softly, “Dante’s death . . . she does not show it but it has killed something inside of her. As it has in all of us.”

“She seems so angry.” Cian whispered.

His father shrugged. “She rallies against the fate that has stolen our child. She feels helpless in the face of his death and seeks to find a solid thing to blame. It is not your fault nor is it the Emperor’s. The Llyrs have always sought to make him the reason for their woes. Do not let it disturb you. She will come to her senses and realize her error. For now, just let her be. We must all work through this dark hour both on our own and together. Words will be exchanged that are not meant and emotions will flare but eventually they will settle and we will regain some semblance of normal life. Dante,” his father’s voice hitched as it always did when mentioning his dead son’s name, “will be glad when that has happened. He always hated it when two of ure fre fighting.” His father glanced up through the skylight, judging the sun’s height. “I best go, Sibley has agreed to play the role of the lover left behind during the funeral. I need to get him to the tailor to make sure the robes fit. It will be difficult going for both of us so I best peel him away from the coffin now if we are to be on time.”

Cian nodded absently, pushing away the mental image of the scholar flinging his small body at the coffin, screaming his sorro tho the sea. It had almost been more painful to watch than his father’s silent tears.

He dropped his head in his hands and repeated the litany that had always given him strength.

I, Cian Kaemon, do solemnly swear . . .

**

Ardel knelt on the bed, his body painfully aware of any movement from the sleeping Leviathan. Soft black hair laid spread about the square face, still damp. He must have gone back to the pool, Ardel mused, his green eyes flickering with distaste to the still waters that took up most of the floor space in the room

He vaguely mbermbered peering into the glassy depths when his father had been called away suddenly, leaving the curious child alone in his rooms. His father’s Leviathan had frightened him, for how could a ten year old boy that hadn’t the faintest idea how to swim understand a man that could lay beneath the surface of the water for hours on end, never coming up to breath?

His father’s servants were forever chasing him from the man, reminding him not to touch his father’s things and to leave the “slave” alone. When he was older his father had explained that Tamerin wasn’t exactly a slave but he would never explain exactly what he was. He’d always told him to wait until he was older.

But his father had never kept his promise. He had died suddenly, taking the words that he should have told his son to his grave. Ardel had found himself, a young untried boy of fifteen, suddenly Emperor and forced to live with a man he could not understand. It was even worse that Tamerin was deaf and mute. No words ever issued from his mouth and he relayed his wishes with patient gestures that Ardel couldn’t even begin to understand. Dorjan had tried to explain but the gruff man frightened him and he couldn’t comprehend the powers the man spoke of. Oh, he had known of his father’s powers for he had delighted in the small flames his father would produce and he had laughed when his father had made the fire in his hearth dance for his delight but he had never possessed such abilities. How could he understand something he had never experienced within him?

Then Kaze had come and recognized that the new Emperor had been left wide open for him to manipulate. He had won him over with soft words and concerned eyes,ing ing him feel that for the first time since his father’s death someone cared for him as a person and not as an object. Kaze had listened to his fears of the tall silent man that had shared his rooms and had agreed that the man was something to dread. Words that the servants and Dorjan himself had shrugged off and denied had finally found a home and the young boy loved him all the more. Kaze had promised to protect him from the man if he had wished. Ardel had given him permission and Tamerin had died.

Ardel shuddered.

He hadn’t understood Tamerin or what the silent man had wanted from him. He hadn’t understood the unsolicited touches or what the man wished of him when he lay on his bed, bared for him and trying to coax the new Emperor’s body to life. He had meekly gone along with it, for who was there to save him? But he had never enjoyed it. It felt wrong to do the things Tamerin urged him to do and he always felt . . . dirty afterwards.

But that didn’t mean he should have died for it. Nobody should have to die for a simple breakdown in communication. True, he had not known about the method of death or time that Kaze had chosen but he still felt guilty. One did not have to wield the instrument of death to be responsible for it.

Ardel reached out and gently touched the long black hair, enjoying the feel of its coolness between his fingers. He understood now. Dorjan and Errol had spoken the tales and truths for him again and this time he understood for he had experienced it all. He understood what they meant by the fire in the dragon’s blood. He understood about the dragon’s curse. And after Kaze’s tender mercies he finally understood what it was that his father’s Leviathan had been trying to teach him without words. The silent man had simply been forced to use methods that the Aidan family was poor at understanding.

He blushed at the memory of Dante’s touches. They didn’t frighten him as Tamerin’s did. Oh, they stirred a bit of trepidation inside, but it was a deliciorepirepidation. There were muscles under the tan skin. Strong muscles that sent shivers of pleasure through him. He could feel the physical power lurking in the arms that held him all t. Ht. He could feel it just under the soft skin.

He longed to know what it felt like to be at the mercy of such power.

Before he could stop himself he peeled away the covers and placed his hand over the tense stomach. Only hours before he had moved against it, bringing himself pleasure as he sted aed against unmovable muscle. The reminder stirred the fire in his blood and he peered at the sleeping face hungrily.

It had been so long.

Kaze had urged him to take other lovers and there had been days filled with nothing more than a string of men come to perform for his pleasure. He fed off their strength, reveling in it as they took him. Their straining bodies fed the fire within him. The act of being taken had felt right for him and he wondered if things would have been different if Tamerin had just switched roles.

Ardel smiled grimly.

He was tired of waiting and the fire within him demanded satisfaction. It demanded recompense for what had been done to it. It demanded to be fed. Dante’s mouth, so cool and inviting, had reawaken the desires within him that had been quashed by Kaze’s death. He longed to feel it again. He longed tow whw what other pleasures his Leviathan could give him.

He climbed up onto the firm stomach and captured the thick wrists in his hands. Blue eyes flew open and he lunged forward, sealing their lips together.

Dante stiffened as his mouth was captured in a hungry kiss. His muscles tensed but he forced himself to lie still lest he accidentally harm the weaker man above him in his attempt to escape. Ardel’s tongue dipped into his mouth, flickering about in a way that woke the creature within him. He closed his eyes firmly, denying the urged to roll the man under him and take his pleasure.

Ardel’s long nails cut into his wrists, only serving to heighten his desire to take the man and he knew that if Ardel didn’t stop rubbing against his stomach he was going to go crazy. He could clearly feel the Emperor’s skin against his, for he wore nothing underneath the robes and the soft skin of his most sensitive regions was a hot presence against his abdomen. The silk of Ardel’s robes teased his nipples and he hissed into the hot mouth, arching up against the friction, wanting . . . needing more contact.

By all the gods he had never gotten so hard so fast in his life and he had slept with some truly talented men. He smirked against Ardel’s devouring mouth, hell, he’d slept with their king. Sibley could turn a man into a whimpering pile of mush with just a few well placed kisses and particular rhythm to his hips.

Ardel seemed to be privileged to that knowledge as well.

Finally it became too much and Dante tore his mouth away, panting against the feather filled pillows. “Ardel we must . . . I can’t go much farther or else . . .” The words caught in his throat as the Emperor sat back, grinding himself against Dante’s desire.

He stared up helplessly into green eyes, gone dark and wicked. Ardel’s red hair fanned about his face and shoulders, making him look like the paintings Dante had seen of the fire god. His face was determined as he repeated the motion making Dante thrack ack his head and cry out hoarsely.

He closed his eyes tightly, unaware that his wrists had been released until a small hand wrapped about his cock. His eyes flew open when a tight pressure closed about the tip and then he lost his mind. He thrust sharply up, tearing a cry from the man above him that brought him back to himself. He stared in horror.

His hands were tight about Ardel’s thin waist. His head had fallen back and at some point and the robes had loosened, giving Dante a view of a thin line of pale flesh peeking out from between the sea of red silk. Ardel’s breath was ragged and his body frozen in that position. And Dante was buried firmly in the small body.

He was inside the Emperor.

He cried out in fear as all that the simple truth meant crashed down upon him and he tried to push the man off. Ardel’s eyes opened and he dropped forward, capturing the hands pushing at him. Dante froze at the anger he saw there. He’d been a fool. He’d let his desires get the better of him. His life was forfeit.

“What are you doing?” The Emperor demanded, irritation evident in his voice.

Dante shuddered. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean . . . I couldn’t control myself.”

Ardel sniffed. “Well don’t do it again!” He snapped and then rose up.

Dante turned his face so that he wouldn’t see the Emperor’s face. His eyes widened in surprise when the man crashed back down on him, sending a lightening bolt of pleasure through him. He gasped at the sudden sensation and stared up at the man who was lifting himself up only to fall back again.

He saw pure pleasure on the Emperor’s face and he could only stare at it in shock.

“Touch me, damn you!” Ardel hissed, glaring at him through slitted eyes, as though Dante were being purposely obstinant.

Dante’s hands obediently came up to unlatch the golden chain. It fell away, a cold presence on his chest, and the robes fanned open, giving him access to the body moving on his. His thumbs brushed over Ardel’s pink nipples and the Emperor jerked, pushing so hard against his fingers that Dante imagined it must have been painful. A coo of pleasure escaped the panting lips and Ardel’s eyes fell closed.

“Harder!” Ardel demanded breathlessly as he leaned forward, picking up his pace.

Dante complied, pushing hard against the pert flesh. Cries escaped Ardel’s lips as he mercilessly stroked the flesh.

“My hands . . .” Ardel panted, making him pause, “tie back my hands. With the chain.”

Dante stared at him horror.

“Please!” Ardel begged, green eyes wide and pleading.

Swallowing Dante forced his fumbling hands to follow the order, wrapping the golden chain about the thin wrists until Ardel sat upon him, his hands bound tightly behind his back. It made the Emperor’s chest stick out a bit and Dante groaned at the erotic picture of the bound, half naked fire god draped in silk.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dante growled as Ardel lifted up onto his knees and began riding him again, “because you’re about to drive me beyond my controle wae warned.

The Emperor smirked, his eyes closed. “That’s the point.” He murmured, that sharp quick tongue appearing to lick at the pale lips and Dante’s control broke.

Ardel gasped as a powerful hand clamped onto his waist and he felt the control switch from him to his new lover as Dante took the lead with that simple movement. He watched breathlessly as his Leviathan pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the headboards les legs bent at the knees. It made the member inside of him hit some fascinating places and he groaned, enjoying every second of it. He found his body drawn forward and teeth closed about his sensitive nipple. They closed firmly and he cried out in pleasure at the pain it caused him.

“Oh yes.” He whispered.

Dante thrust up into him sharply, his strong hands holding him still so that he couldn’t escape. His head fell back as the sger ger man pistoned into him, stretching him until he felt that he must surely break apart. Dante filled him completely yet each new thrust seemed to bury his thick member just a bit deeper.

It was heaven.

A sharp slap to his rump made him gasp and jerk in surprised pleasure. “Look at me.” His Leviathan growled.

He did and almost mewed at the dark promise there. Dante’s eyes were dark and narrowed and it transformed him into the powerful creature Ardel had known lurked sherehere under that polite mask. He swelled with pleasure at having managed to find it and coax it out.

Ardel cantered his hips until Dante’s thrusts pressed his own erection against that wonderful stomach. He was grateful that Dante had shoved the annoying fabric aside so that he could clasp bare skin under his hands for it meant that nothing stood between his own member and his Leviathan’s skin. He dared Dante’s anger to look down at the weeping thing being endless forced back and forth against the tan stomach, leaving a thin wet trail in its wake.

The view made the fire in his blood erupt out of control and he groaned, pressing tighter against the only source of coolness available to him. Lips captured his in a firm kiss as the thrusts suddenly became more determined and he cried out into that cool mouth. Dante’s thick tongue shoved past his lips and he sucked on it. He felt his Leviathan’s power pour into him and sucked harder, trying to get more of that power inside of him.

Coolness rushed into him but he whimpered. It wasn’t enough! He needed more . . . he needed a way to release the fire building up within him. He jerked his mouth from Dante’s and cried out in frustration, burying his face against Dante’s neck. The hands at his waist disappeared and he hissed as one hand wrapped around the silk robe behind him, pulling it up and away from his flushed skin. The hand clenched his ass, pulling the mound of muscle aside so that cold air blew over the hottest part of his body, making him shiver in delight.

The second hand suddenly made itself know with a sharp strike against the other buttock that sent his senses reeling. His eyes widened and he panted as delicious humiliation washed over him. Only his father had ever struck him so and the simple action made him feel like he was doing something forbidden. It was wonderful and he longed for the sensation to be repeated.

His wish was granted as another sharp slap stung his flesh and he pressed his face against the crook of Dante’s neck, gasping.

“Harder, Ardel.” Dante hissed in his ear, “Show me you want it. Show me how much you need it.”

He sobbed and complied, rubbing himself against the man’s muscled body as though he were trying to climb into it. He was structhirthird time and again his lover chastised him, ordering him to move faster. He sobbed in frustration and knew he could refuse but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to do it. He needed to please his lover. He needed . . .

A fourth slap landed lower than the previous ones had and he threw his head back as he came. His breath left his body and every muscle tightened until he trembled uncontrollably. The cock within him seemed to swell impossibly large as it tunneled through tight muscle to its destination. The hand holding him tightened and he heard a deep growl rumble from his Leviathan’s chest as a delicious coolness was pumped into him along with Dante’s seed.

It spread through his body and he gasped as it chased the fire from his veins. Even the heart of the fire that Dante’s power had never seemed to reach before was enveloped and torn away, leaving only a calmly burning flame. Ardel became blind to all else but that single fire and he reached out with his senses, gently touching it. It flared at his touch but did not burn him.

With a relieved sob he collapsed onto his Leviathan’s chest and slipped into a healing sleep.