By Chance Met (15 page)

Naeth gaped at the door. He had never heard Ruomi speak in just that tone and certainly never the words that set his ears burning in shock.

So the rumors are true
, he abstractedly thought.
It’s Keiran who yields
.

More lubricious sounds followed, tempting Naeth into lingering outside the door.

“Sweet. So sweet…”

“Ruo, please—!”

“Not yet. I want to taste all of you.”

A sharp gasp preceded a series of harsh whimpers.

“Now, Ruo!” Keiran was barely comprehensible in his obvious desperation. “Have me now, damn you!”

Merciful Saints, what in Aisen is Ruomi doing to him?
Naeth wondered, his face hotter than it had ever been. He became aware of the throb and swell of certain body parts down yonder. He gulped, embarrassed by his body’s reaction, and made a feeble attempt to move past the door.

But then Ruomi laughed, a soft, wickedly sensual laugh that rooted Naeth to the spot and left him all a-tingle and presumably set Keiran afire if his groaned imprecations were anything to go by. The curses were soon replaced by a spate of wanton moans, each resonating with indisputable pleasure.

“Deeper… please, oh please… I want to feel you… ooohh, so good, so good…

Deity’s blood! Oh, ah, Ruomi—!”

Naeth reminded himself to breathe. Before he could catch hold of himself, he pressed an ear to the door. He regretted the impulse an instant later when he heard the most titillating of sounds. It was very faint, but there was no mistaking the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh. Naeth closed his eyes.
Veres preserve me
, he nearly groaned aloud.

His silent entreaty went unheard as evidenced by the further hardening of his shaft.

He was panting erratically by the time he heard the sobbed staccato cries that heralded Keiran’s completion and the harsh groans that marked Ruomi’s. Naeth drew in a shaky inhalation and ran his hand over his burning face.

A few rapid heartbeats later, Keiran whispered something too softly for Naeth to understand. His eyes snapped open when he heard Ruomi’s reply.

“On your knees then.”

Naeth stared at the door, aghast.
Surely, they aren’t going to
…?

Keiran’s litany of moans and pleas promptly disabused him of the notion that one round of intense rutting in a night was enough for any sensible Deir. He backed away from the door as the sensual sounds escalated once more. If one coupling’s worth of such sounds had brought him to such a state of arousal, another one would likely finish him right there and then!

He hurried to his quarters, part of him ashamed of intruding on their privacy, but another part quite exhilarated by the experience. As he started to open his door, he glanced at the apartment four rooms down the hallway.

Naeth hesitated at the threshold of his room.

For several minutes he stood there, staring at the door to Reijir’s suite. Beyond it was the object of his fevered dreams; the Deir who from their first meeting had warmed his heart and stirred his soul and awakened the ardent yearnings of a hot-blooded youth on the verge of sexual maturity. Naeth bit down on his lower lip to still its trembling.

If anything were to come of his desires, he would have to take action. However experienced in seduction and the love arts Reijir might be, he was no reckless libertine.

He would not initiate relations with his legal ward and invite accusations of taking advantage of a Deir who’d been lawfully entrusted to his care.

Naeth straightened, decided on his course.

He was finally of age to take a lover. And if he were lucky, if fate favored him, his first lover would also be his last.

Chapter Eleven

Reijir poured himself a glass of brandy from the liquor cabinet in his study. He’d refrained from drinking too much during the celebrations earlier, but now it seemed he needed something to fortify him. A strange thing for him to feel considering his surfeit of experience in the love arts.

There were so many strange emotions he’d experienced ever since Naeth Orosse’s advent in his life, not least of which was a protectiveness he’d not felt for another in so long outside of his kinsfolk and closest friends. But that he could explain away, citing Naeth’s age and a sense of obligation toward the youth he’d taken under his wing. The possessiveness he tended to feel around Naeth, however, was another matter entirely. He could neither explain it away nor ignore it and hope it would vanish with time apart from the youth. If anything, their separations had only further whetted his appetite for Naeth’s company—and more.

Reijir downed the fiery liquid, started to pour himself another glass then decided against it and returned the bottle to the cabinet. For one, while his apartment was well-heated, the adjoining study was not and the chilly air had quickly penetrated his robe.

Second and more important, he was not easily inebriated, but alcohol did loosen him up somewhat including that part of him that he preferred to keep under his control.

He was not much different from his brother after all—they were both mercurial in personality and their tempers could turn on a whim or a misstep. But while Keiran embraced his unpredictable temperament and even used it to his advantage, Reijir eschewed his as much as he could.

As Herun of a great fief he could not afford to vent his griefs or rages on the people whose damaged trust he’d worked so hard and long to regain. As for the youth who’d surrendered himself to his keeping long before it was proper, Reijir intended the memory of this night to be one Naeth would cherish all his days. To ensure that, he wanted to be in full control of himself and whatever passed between them.

He left the study through the connecting door into the sitting room of his apartment.

If Naeth’s courage held, he would come to Reijir’s quarters before too long. But if the youth’s courage failed…

Reijir could not decide whether that would be a relief or a disappointment. But in any case, whatever Naeth’s decision, Reijir would give him ample time to come to it.

He entered his bedchamber, selected a thin book from the small collection he kept by his bed and seated himself in his reading chair by the balcony. It would take him about half an hour to finish the book. Time enough for Naeth to make up his mind and show up.

Or not.

Reijir let his eyes sweep over Naeth. No sophisticated Deir about town had ever looked as provocative. The youth’s thin nightshirt clung to his slender form. Reijir could

easily imagine the well-knit body underneath, the strong lean limbs and the tight, slightly rounded backside.

He held out his hand invitingly. Naeth came to him and slipped his hand into his. He looked into his eyes and glimpsed anxiety and embarrassment in their depths. But he also discerned curiosity and anticipation however nervous he might be. A smile tugged at his lips.

"You can still back out and leave," he gently said.

Naeth’s cheeks began to color. "Would you let me?"

"No," Reijir admitted, his smile widening. Naeth’s cheeks flamed then, and he dropped his gaze. Reijir softly chuckled. "You're not afraid, are you?”

"I'm scared to death," Naeth managed to say, his voice uneven and whispery.

"Trust me," Reijir soothed him. He led Naeth into the bedchamber. "I want this to be wonderful for you.”

Naeth finally lifted his head and managed to meet his gaze, a tremulous smile on his lips. "I do trust you," he whispered, his eyes shining with adoration.

Reijir groaned. Cupping Naeth’s face in his hands, he kissed the youth. Naeth made a small gasp when Reijir teasingly pulled at his lower lip. He felt the quiver in Naeth’s body as he gradually drew him into a more intimate kiss, still keeping his passion in check to hold Naeth’s apprehensions at bay.

Naeth slid his arms around his shoulders, eagerly following Reijir’s lead. Reijir’s hands move downwards to pull the lad closer.

The youth drew in his breath sharply when he felt Reijir’s hardening shaft, barely confined by the silky fabric of his burgundy robe. The youth whimpered as that fact made itself fully felt through the thin material of his nightshirt.

While such sensations served to discomfit Naeth, the same could not be said of Reijir. They only increased his desire to get past the barrier of his clothing. He raised his hand to Naeth’s throat and proceeded to undo the buttons of his nightshirt. When the shirt gaped open, he slid his hand under and let his fingers find and fondle quickly peaking nipples. Naeth jerked back in shock, but Reijir held him fast.

When Reijir bent to kiss the hollow of his throat he let out his breath with a faint shiver. Still he did not resist.

Reijir knew it was trust that was keeping Naeth thus. Trust that Reijir would not hurt him and he would not have cause to regret this experience. That knowledge made Reijir’s heart swell with tenderness even as it roused his passion to greater heights.

As he trailed kisses the length of Naeth’s neck and along his collarbone, the lad trembled in his arms, a tight little moan forcing its way past his lips. At the sound, Reijir raised his head to kiss his finely curving jaw and chin before capturing his parted lips once more.

*

Naeth felt as if he was on fire. Indeed, he was reeling from this devastation of his senses and the steady awakening of his body as evidenced by the burgeoning stiffness in his nether regions. He groaned when Reijir deliberately allowed their shafts to meet and rub against the other through their garments.

He was aware Reijir had turned on him all the charm and skill of a Deir who knew the love arts very well. But far from resenting this, Naeth was pleased to be a chosen recipient of the Herun’s attentions and that Reijir was taking great care not to hurt or

frighten him. Nevertheless, when Reijir started to remove his nightshirt, Naeth did pull back in alarm. His eyes darted to the lamp, its weak flickering light still too bright for his comfort. Reijir chuckled and let him go but held his hand.

Before leading the youth to the bed, he snuffed out the lamp. Darkness enveloped the chamber save for the moonlight that glowed through the windows and peeked through from the balcony. A sliver of that silvery light fell across the bed and dimly illuminated the couple that stood beside it.

Reijir turned back to Naeth. He untied his belt and shrugged off his robe, allowing it to drop to the floor, thus revealing the extent of his endowment and the state of its arousal. Naeth shakily drew in his breath, his gaze riveted on Reijir’s groin. Even in the darkness, every detail was clearly defined. Naeth fairly quailed at the prospect of being possessed by such a Deir. He dragged his gaze to Reijir’s face, wondering if the Herun felt any discomfort in his nakedness.

He obviously did not. Indeed, he boldly returned Naeth’s gaze. Before Naeth could speak or move, Reijir’s hands were on him, raising the nightshirt and pulling it off him.

He dropped the garment so that it fell in a heap at their feet. Naeth stared down at it in dismay.

"Veres almighty," he whispered faintly. He heard Reijir softly laugh in sympathy.

"Modesty has no place in love play," Reijir drawled, guiding Naeth onto the bed.

He eased Naeth down on the mattress, following him closely. It took Naeth a few shaky breaths to adjust to the sensation of their naked bodies molded against each other.

Only then did Reijir begin his sensual assault in earnest.

He explored Naeth’s mouth, drawing a spate of soft gasps and helpless moans, then trailed kisses from behind Naeth’s ear down to the side of his neck and along his shoulders and chest. Naeth quivered beneath his questing lips and clasped Reijir’s shoulders with trembling hands, somewhat overwhelmed by the discovery of his body’s sensitivity to stimulation.

When Reijir closed his lips around a nipple, Naeth stiffened with shock, an alarmed gasp escaping him. He held on tightly to Reijir’s shoulders, vainly suppressing a moan as the Herun played with the peaked bud until it was taut with tendrils of sensation.

He felt Reijir’s hand continue its downward journey, his touch leaving what felt like a searing trail of brands on Naeth’s flesh. The caress of Reijir’s palm on his abdomen and the kneading of his fingers on Naeth’s tense thighs left the youth breathless with sensation and anticipation. But the wrap of Reijir’s hand around his shaft elicited a shocked, nigh protesting cry.

Naeth stared wide-eyed at Reijir as the Herun proceeded to run his fist up and down the length of his shaft, stroking him to a hot, throbbing peak. Never had another Deir touched him in such intimate fashion nor had he thought to bring himself to completion thusly.

The shock of his family’s demise followed by the struggle to survive on his own had stifled any desire to satisfy the sexual curiosity that first awakened that tragic summer.

His attraction to Reijir renewed those bodily yearnings, but he had doggedly ignored them lest they tempted him into some rash act he might come to regret. What release he’d known had come in the form of dream-propelled orgasms, the squeeze of his shaft between his legs or the rub of his groin against his beddings.

He tried to speak but naught came out of his mouth save for a breathy moan. Naeth

fought down his embarrassment and fear and clung to his trust in Reijir. He arched up involuntarily when the Herun’s strokes quickened and the resulting sensations intensified.

“
Dyhar?
" he moaned, a shade of panic in his voice.

"Don't be frightened," Reijir whispered. "Just enjoy this."

*

He had never made love as he was doing now. In the past, he'd taken care to pleasure his partners so that they, responding in their passion and excitement, could return that pleasure. For this reason, virgins had been more of an annoyance than a treat. One had to be slow and ever so careful with them and teach them first how to satisfy him to his liking. While he was always gentle with them, he much preferred the company of more experienced Deira who already understood what he wanted from them. Hence, the taking of someone’s virginity had never been much of a prize to him.