By Chance Met (18 page)

He closed his eyes as rapturous feeling robbed him of all rational thought. He could only hold onto Reijir, his body a mass of nerves skillfully set afire.

He wondered what the Herun meant to do when Reijir hooked his hands behind

Naeth’s knees and pushed them back and apart. It was with great shock that Naeth felt his buttocks parted and Reijir’s warm breath ghost over heretofore hidden flesh. His eyes flew open just as Reijir’s lips claimed him with alarming intimacy.

"Nay, wait!" he gasped, trying to raise himself on his elbows and reach down to deter the Herun. “You can’t do that!”

Reijir gave a low laugh and, with a firm tug of Naeth’s arse, landed him on his back once more.

"Oh yes, I can," he murmured. And he gently marauded the tiny aperture with lips and tongue in a manner Naeth never imagined possible.

Naeth gasped as he was pierced. He had never imagined one could be penetrated by tongue as well and sublimely as finger and shaft. His head thrown back, he reached down between his outspread legs to grab a fistful of Reijir’s raven locks, only to end up running

his fingers through them.

“Please, n-no more,” he breathily stuttered. “I can’t—I can’t—Reijir—!”

He cried out at a particularly deep stab then whimpered when it was followed by a spate of teasing swipes over his overly sensitized entrance. The sensual incursions began again, and he helplessly groaned. He instinctively tried to close his legs, only to have them pulled apart even wider than before.

“Hold yourself open,” Reijir ordered him.

Naeth gulped and did as he was bid. He shuddered when Reijir renewed his assault.

Too soon, he felt the coil in his belly tighten almost unbearably before it finally unraveled in spectacular fashion. He cried out once then harshly sobbed as ribbons of pearlescent seed shot out of his shaft to dapple his belly.

He panted heavily in the wake of his release. Eyes shut tight, he remained still, uncaring for the moment of the wanton image he presented with his knees upraised and thighs spread apart. His abdomen was speckled with milky seed and the entrance between his buttocks was sleek with saliva and semen that had trickled down the back of his shaft to seep into the cleft of his arse.

Finally catching his breath, he was about to let go of his legs when Reijir stopped him and pushed them back once more. Naeth opened his eyes and gaped in disbelief when the Herun gathered the semen on his abdomen in his hand and smeared the slippery fluid on his shaft. A heartbreakingly mischievous smile curved Reijir’s lips as he bent over his shocked leman and pressed against his bottom, pushing deep into Naeth with one smooth thrust.

Naeth whimpered and moaned as he was filled to the brim. It was not as easy an entry given that semen was not as lubricious as oil, but the faint friction made him feel Reijir’s shaft more acutely and wrought sharper sensation on that point of pleasure inside him. He braced himself for the slightly rougher than usual thrusts into him, relishing the pounding for its granting of his dearest desire—Reijir’s ownership of his body and possession of his heart.

It did not matter if Reijir did not return his love. Naeth was determined to content himself with the affection the Herun readily showed him. It was so much more than he could ever expect and a surfeit of what many Deira sought all their lives and never found.

As Reijir repeatedly slid into him, kindling sparks of increasingly intense rapture with every inward stroke, Naeth gratefully decided he was a very lucky Deir indeed.

He lay limp and unmoving afterwards, blushing a bit but unable to stir much when Reijir gently wiped him clean of their combined seed. The Herun looked at him, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Tired already?” he gibed.

Naeth tried to glower at him and, failing, settled for a pout. “Twice in succession would wear anyone out,” he mumbled. “And I still can’t believe you did
that
.”

“
That?
” Reijir archly repeated.

“You know what I mean!” Naeth blushed again. “Is that really done?”

Reijir laughed. “For someone who was protesting it quite noisily earlier, you’re very quick to verify its common employment now.”

This time Naeth managed a glare. “I only want to know if doing that to me truly pleases you,” he retorted.

“Meaning you will neither protest nor hinder me the next time if it does.” At Naeth’s

embarrassed nod, Reijir grinned and said, “Let me put it thusly, Naeth-
min
. Expect me up your backside in more ways than one—or two.”

Naeth’s blush deepened, but he only said, “As you wish.”

*

Reijir chuckled and dropped a kiss on the youth’s crimson cheek. He turned away and reached down to the floor for his robe. As he straightened, he felt Naeth’s arms slip around him. The youth pressed against him from behind.

“Surely you aren’t done with me yet,” Naeth whispered suggestively.

Reijir glanced over his shoulder at him. “Far from it,” he replied. “I was only going to fetch us more wine.”

Naeth rested his chin on Reijir’s shoulder and looked past the door to the sitting room where a half empty flagon of spiced wine and two glasses stood on suite’s small dining table. He wrinkled his nose.

“Do you have to?” he murmured, turning his face to lightly suck on Reijir’s nape. A moment later, he let his tongue forge a trail across the expanse of Reiji’s back interspersed with moist kisses.

Reijir closed his eyes and blew out his breath, aware that Naeth was paying special attention to the scars that crisscrossed his back. The youth started doing so the very first time he caught a full view of Reijir’s back.

He’d mischievously sneaked into Reijir’s apartment one evening soon after their arrival, entering the bedchamber just as Reijir had taken off his shirt. As Reijir’s back had been to him, Naeth saw the full extent of the injuries done to his lover by his late sire. His shocked gasp alerted Reijir to his presence and he’d looked back in dismay and not a little shame at having his disfigurement unexpectedly exposed.

But Naeth had given a little cry and hurried to him. Hugging him from behind, he’d said, indignation thrumming in every word, “How cruel of him! How dared he call himself your
aba
when he hurt you so! Ah, how you must have suffered, Rei-
tyar
.”

And then he’d kissed Reijir’s back, pressing his lips to every scar as if in doing so he might wipe away the pain and misery of those long ago days. It had moved Reijir to the core of his soul. When he bedded Naeth that night, it was with a consuming hunger and an aching tenderness he’d never suspected himself capable of.

Reijir gripped Naeth’s hands where they met on his stomach, savoring the feel of the youth’s lips and tongue on his flesh. As his lust flared once more, he dropped the robe and reached behind him to pull Naeth forward and onto his lap. A flurry of hungry kisses to mouths and throats and shoulders was all that was needed for them to surge back into aching need and readiness.

Naeth sank down to impale himself thoroughly on Reijir’s shaft. As he lowered himself again and again on the hard flesh, Reijir caught him close to suckle his nipples.

Naeth moaned loudly and, clutching Reijir to him, continued to ride the shaft that so fulsomely cleaved him.

Reijir stopped in the act of pouring himself a glass of wine. He turned and stared in surprise at Naeth. The youth had not moved from the couch fronting the blazing hearth.

It was their last evening in Althia. The next day would see them back in the capital in

time for Naeth and Keiran to return to the State University as student and instructor respectively and where vital business awaited Reijir’s attention. The worst of northern Ylandre’s blizzards had passed, and one could reasonably expect the rest of the season to unfold with little fear from extreme cold and weather conditions.

They had retreated to the main study following dinner, but after a half hour or so of idle conversation, Keiran had taken leave of them and headed for his suite. As usual Ruomi accompanied him, leaving Reijir and Naeth to continue their post-prandial chat about minor amusing matters. That is, until Naeth opened the subject of concubinary binding.

“How do you know about
viratha
?” Reijir asked with a frown.

Naeth said, “My sire told me about it one time. He said he’d nearly imprinted
Adda
the year before they bound, soon after they started their affair. And he claimed it was at
Adda
’s suggestion.”

“Your
adda
offered to be placed in thrall? Why?”

“To prove his devotion. And also that he was worthy of
Aba
’s regard.”

“Worthy?”

Naeth shrugged. “That’s what
Aba
told me. I don’t know what he meant.”

Reijir was surprised anew.

The binding of a concubine’s mind so that he was incapable of cheating on his lover was practiced only by True Bloods possessed of more than average mental strength. As mind blindness encroached on the
sedyran
populace, the majority of Half Bloods had gradually forgotten about
viratha
and the reasons for its imposition on a leman. Yet it appeared that Naeth’s sire had possessed the ability to do so. Reijir wondered if the Deir was of mixed blood and had retained some if not all of his
enyran
parent’s mind talents.

And Naeth’s birthing father had broached the matter of his worth. Why had he desired to prove himself worthy of his lover? Perhaps there was more to Naeth’s parents than Naeth knew.

Reijir rejoined Naeth on the couch. Sliding an arm around the youth’s shoulders, he sat back and silently contemplated the fire for several minutes.

Naeth shifted uneasily beside him. “Are you angry?” he anxiously asked. “I won’t mention the matter again if it offends you.”

Reijir shook his head. “You did no wrong.” Looking at Naeth, he slowly said, “And, yes, I
have
been considering it. As much for my peace of mind as…” He hesitated then sighed and continued. “I’d rather not share you with others, Naeth-
min
.”

*

Naeth caught his breath at the reluctant admission. He gazed at Reijir, glimpsing wariness and uncharacteristic uncertainty in the Herun’s eyes. Naeth sighed in turn though he took care not to let Reijir hear.

It pained him that Reijir still held back much of himself, neither giving his full trust to Naeth nor opening himself to the possibility of something deeper between them. But perhaps it was not surprising.

He recalled Keiran’s story of Reijir’s first lover. Keiran had implied the Deir involved committed a betrayal that led Reijir to end their affair. Naeth wondered if it had been a case of infidelity. It would certainly explain Reijir’s desire to ensure Naeth would be his exclusively. Well, whatever the reason, Naeth knew he would comply with Reijir’s wish if it would encourage his lover to trust him and believe in his sincerity and

commitment to their relationship. And after all, that might prove the foundation of something greater. Like reciprocated love perhaps?

“I am more than willing,” he softly declared. “You need only say it.”

Reijir returned him a keen searching gaze. What he saw seemed to assure him for he faintly smiled and said, “If I do imprint you, I promise to lift it should I wed.”

Naeth flinched inwardly. He did not want to think about Reijir binding to another Deir, however far in the future it might be. “There will be no need,” he said, struggling to keep the tightness out of his voice. “I won’t mind if you don’t—”

Reijir cut in. “I will not have you enchained to me without hope of more than a few stolen nights in my bed or yours.”

“But—”

“I must sire heirs for Ilmaren. That is a duty I can’t set aside. How can I demand that you continue to be wholly mine when I will no longer be wholly yours?”

Naeth swallowed hard at the tacit revelation that he alone shared Reijir’s bed at the moment. It was a gift, unlooked-for and precious. Though it could not soothe the pain of knowing the Herun would one day marry for dynastic purposes, it had the power to assuage the pangs of doubts he harbored about his place in Reijir’s heart. Reijir might not love him, but it was clear he cared for Naeth as much as his duty and station allowed him.

Perhaps even a little more than that.

Reijir cupped Naeth’s chin and made him meet his gaze. “Are you still willing?” he quietly asked.

For a few heartbeats, Naeth could not speak for the lump in his throat and the ache in his heart that dueled with stubborn, some would say foolish, hope. But he regained his voice and, with conviction born of his unwavering devotion to Reijir, made his choice and gave his answer.

“Always.”

Chapter Thirteen

Rikara, C.A. 3010

“You want us to sort through our things and give ‘old stuff’ away to charity,” Keiran repeated. He looked at Reijir, eyebrows rising in perplexity. “Have you ever given away your cast offs, Rei?” he asked.

Reijir shrugged. “Not that I know of. But my wardrobe does seem to always have a little more space at certain times of the year. I’m sure Ruo can explain the mystery.”

Ruomi continued placing books on the shelf he and Naeth had been rearranging when the brethren walked in.

“The orphanages always welcome used clothing for their older wards,” he said.

“They have them altered to fit.”

Keiran looked at him in surprise. “Do you mean to say there are children going about the city in my old clothes?”

“After adjustments in size and, er, alterations of any adornments, yes.”

Reijir snickered. “You mean removal of them,” he said. “You do love to stand out, Kei. I suppose it’s to make up for your lack of height.”

Keiran threatened to cast a throw pillow at him. “
I
happen to be of average height,”

he corrected. “It’s you and the rest of the family who are abnormally tall!”

Naeth cleared his throat in hopes of bringing the brothers’ banter to a halt before it totally sidetracked the original topic of conversation. Both looked at him questioningly.