Clan and Crown (5 page)

Egilka didn’t need to touch him again.
All at once, the hard ball between Clajak’s cocks let loose. His
secondary cock gave a shuddering throb. Fire lanced up his primary
prick, a blinding stream of painful elation that erupted in thick
jets. Clajak howled as surge after surge tore free, splattering his
and Egilka’s torsos and even the Imdiko’s face. Spasms wracked the
Dramok’s entire body, as if his innards were ripping themselves
apart to release the pent-up fluids that shot forth.

Egilka uttered a last wrenching groan
and collapsed over Clajak again. Clajak grunted, his groin still
seizing, still fighting to expel every last drop of seed in him. It
felt as if his cocks pumped forever before the spasms eased. He lay
panting under the warm sprawl of his long-awaited lover.

They did not speak for a long time.
Clajak didn’t have the breath for it. No one had ever taken him to
task like that before.

After an eternity, Egilka rose with a
groan. He blinked down at Clajak and a smug look came over him.
Smirking, he started to untie Clajak. The Dramok eyed him
sourly.

“You are entirely too pleased with
yourself.”

A real grin split the Imdiko’s face. “I
got to fuck the Crown Prince. How many get to say that?” He paused
and considered. “Oh, that’s right. Half the known
worlds.”

“Hey!” Clajak sat up and rubbed his
wrists, flexing the fingers to make sure his circulation
worked.

Egilka laughed as he released Clajak’s
ankles. The prince’s spike of temper fizzled and died as he looked
at the handsome face.

Clajak said, “You should do that more
often.”

Done with untying him, Egilka stood
tall and stretched even taller. “What? Fuck you?”

Clajak threw a pillow at him. “No, I
get to fuck you from now on.”

Egilka snorted and picked up the
switch. He headed over to the curtained wall to put it
away.

Clajak called after him, “Do you know
how stunning you are when you smile?”

Egilka darted a glance at him. His
suspicious expression said he thought he was being teased. He shook
his head and turned away again. “Save it, my prince. Store your
pretty compliments for someone who cares.”

Clajak got off the mat and picked up
the blue formsuit he’d left lying on the floor. He pulled it on,
watching Egilka.

Pleasure done, his intended again
thought Clajak played him. With desire no longer riding Egilka, the
uncertainty about their relationship had returned. Clajak sighed
and shook his head.

He’d been up front with the Imdiko
about how much he’d desired him over the years. Already Clajak had
visions of putting Egilka beneath him over and over, of fucking the
amazing ass that the man was covering with his gray trousers. Of
loving and being loved. Of being equal partners in every sense,
except in the bedroom.

Egilka had crossed the line by topping
Clajak ... and their first time together, no less. Clajak was no
one’s bottom. Okay, so the circumstances in this case had been
extreme, and the prince had owed Egilka. However, it had to be made
clear that domination was Clajak’s right.

It didn’t matter that Egilka was the
elder by 17 years. Clajak was a Dramok, the acknowledged leader of
any clan he formed. He needed to claim his place. He had to show
Egilka who was in charge.

But how to handle the matter,
especially when the Imdiko didn’t trust Clajak?

Egilka needed to come to him, to
acknowledge himself to be the beta to Clajak’s alpha. That meant
having his future clanmate chase him down yet again ... but this
time when Egilka found Clajak, the prince would be ready for him.
Clajak smirked to himself, relishing the idea.

It didn’t occur to Clajak that Egilka
wouldn’t come looking for him, that running off again might make
the Imdiko give up. It also didn’t cross his mind that love
couldn’t be played like infatuation or lust. Or that a Dramok might
be required to give as much as he took. Clajak was an expert in
sex, but the young prince had no mastery when it came to building
committed relationships.

Happily clueless, Clajak tugged on a
pair of black boots that ended just below his knee. Where should he
run to next? Plasius with its pleasure-loving population? The
planet Lefo where even the plants liked to fuck? Both places had
their advantages, that was for certain. The pleasures Clajak could
introduce Egilka to, if the Imdiko wasn’t already familiar with
them—

The door to the playroom opened,
cutting off his thoughts. A bronze-skinned Plasian, her olive mane
swaying upon her head, walked into the room. Close behind stalked a
Bi’isil. Clajak and Egilka froze.

The Plasian, with her black marbled
eyes and willowy figure, was a pleasant sight to Clajak. The Dramok
had already gone hard again at the thoughts of what he might do to
Egilka later. Putting the willowy female between him and Egilka was
a new and delicious fantasy.

The Bi’isil’s presence took away the
desire, however. Its appearance squashed lust flat in less than a
second. It wasn’t that the people of the kingdom of Bi’is were
particularly ugly. They were odd enough with their small, spindly
bodies, gray skin, and bulbous heads that looked much too big for
their frames. This particular Bi’isil was half Clajak’s height, but
his head was almost twice as large. His mouth and nose were mere
slits. Fathomless black eyes, looking like twin pools of ink on his
smooth skin, took up most of his balloon-shaped face.

What made Clajak’s lip curl in
automatic dislike was Kalquor’s history with Bi’is. They shared a
boundary in space, neighbors that were hostile more often than not.
Their societies were very different, and they had preyed on each
other many times over the centuries.

The Plasian and Bi’isil halted just as
Clajak and Egilka did. Surprise and dismay registered on the
Plasian prostitute’s lovely face. The Bi’isil wasn’t capable of any
expression.

Its tone was angry enough
when it spoke in Clajak’s head.
You said
this is our assigned room.

The Plasian went to one knee and her
arms crossed over her slight chest. “It is, Prince Ru’imbu. These
men have overstayed their lodging.”

Clajak noted how she addressed the
Gray. Princes on Bi’is were the children of governors of small
municipalities rather than future leaders of the entire kingdom.
Bi’is’ ruling government consisted of a complicated maze of
appointed committees and assemblies. They had no true emperors or
kings. Being a prince was only a familial tie, not one of eventual
rule.

Clajak outranked this Ru’imbu. Egilka
did too, though he was not yet clanned to Clajak. It was enough
that the Imdiko would someday be an emperor of Kalquor.

As Clajak greeted the Bi’isil, he did
not sink to one knee or cross his arms over his chest. However he
did speak with the respect due an equal, hoping that would mollify
this member of the ritual-happy species. “Our apologies, honored
Bi’isil prince. We ran a little late.”

The Gray’s unblinking eyes
stared up at Clajak.
Protocol and ritual
have been disturbed.
There was definite
anger and more than a little arrogance in the tone that invaded
Clajak’s head.

Clajak glanced at the frowning Egilka,
fighting to not roll his eyes. Bi’isils had ceremonies for every
aspect of life, all of which had to be strictly observed. It was an
easy thing to cause their kind insult. More than once, forgotten
convention had led to violent issues between Bi’is and the
Kalquorian Empire.

The Dramok tried on a conciliatory
tone. “Your night has not been disturbed, prince of Bi’is; merely
delayed. I will make up for the breach in protocol by covering the
charge for your visit here.”

The room is not cleaned. I
have been insulted. You will all pay, but not through
credits.

The Plasian shrank back, fear
registering on her gentle face. Clajak moved fast, putting himself
between her and Ru’imbu. He loomed over the gray alien and allowed
his fangs to unhinge.

“The woman is not to blame, gray boy.
My companion and I are at fault, not her.”

The Bi’isil touched the strap around
its skinny waist. A number of pouches and small devices were
attached, much like the belt Clajak wore.

Cold pleasure invaded Clajak’s mind yet
again. Protocol has been ignored. Bi’isils do not stand for such
matters. The woman’s life and that of the brothel owner are
forfeit.

Egilka gasped. Clajak ignored him for
the moment. Speaking the liquid language of Plasius in the hopes
that Ru’imbu didn’t know it, he told the prostitute, “Get out of
here and warn your owner.”

The Plasian didn’t hesitate for an
instant. She fled the room as Clajak let his temper off its leash
and faced off with Ru’imbu. “You’re not on Bi’is, you hateful gray
shit. This is Dantovon and you can get over your insult, small
thing that it is.”

Even though the Bi’isil’s face remained
unchanged, its body shook with rage. It stared up at Clajak. Its
fury dripped molten fire in his head.

Small insult? Small? For the
prince of the E’isip, foremost in the richest territories of Be’em,
capital of the realm of Bi’is? No insult is small to me,
Kalquorian
.

Clajak snorted. “Then you’ll be getting
your feelings hurt a lot, Prince of Assholes.”

Ru’imbu touched a small device on his
belt. All at once, Clajak couldn’t move. He couldn’t even speak to
warn Egilka to run. Ru’imbu pulled the metallic device from his
belt, a tiny box with lumps protruding from it. He pointed it at
Clajak.

Chapter 2

A streak of darkness flew at the
Bi’isil. It knocked him over. The little gray alien tumbled away as
the dark streak resolved into a wide-eyed Egilka. Ru’imbu lay
still, his telepathic thoughts registering shock and pain. It was a
heartbeat before Clajak realized he could move again.

Fury made the room red-tinged. Clajak
took a step towards the Bi’isil, who was trying to sit up. The
Dramok thought how nice it would be to stomp all over the little
bastard and hear his twig bones snap.

Egilka grabbed him and shoved him at
the still-open door. “Run, Clajak! The little shit has a stasis
field emitter and collars!”

Clajak thought he had enough time to
exact revenge before Ru’imbu recovered. The idea of grinding the
Bi’isil prince into a puddle was a delightful one.

For once, common sense took hold. The
Bi’isil was nobody of consequence, not to Kalquor anyway. However,
he had just enough rank to cause problems between the worlds if the
Crown Prince of Kalquor murdered him. The Galactic Council might
even get involved if Ru’imbu’s parent was high enough in rank to
complain. Clajak’s parents were already having to explain the delay
for the clanning ceremony. Adding this little altercation would
only get him more censure from the Empire.

Clajak nodded to Egilka with
reluctance. “Let’s get out of here before he recovers enough to
act.”

They were out of the brothel in a
couple of breaths. “My berth,” Egilka said and took off down the
lanes of the crowded city.

Clajak caught sight of two Tragooms
standing at the corner of the brothel. Big and ugly with skin like
granite and snouted, tusked faces, they blinked at him with tiny
eyes. They wore the dull black and silver collars of Bi’isil
slaves. Ru’imbu had brought bodyguards then. He’d probably have
them tearing the brothel apart within a few minutes to claim
justice for the ‘insult’ he’d suffered.

“Clajak! Come on!” Egilka shouted,
having stopped a few yards away when he realized the Dramok wasn’t
following.

Clajak thought of how quiet the
building had been and that there had been no one around when he and
Egilka rushed out. Perhaps the brothel owner had heeded the
Plasian’s warning about her angry client and cleared everyone out.
He hoped so. Bi’isils might be weak in bodies, but their technology
more than made up for it. They were quick to render their enemies
dead or enslaved. Often-lawless Dantovon would do nothing to stop
or punish Ru’imbu if he went on a destructive tear. With Tragooms
added in the mix, devastation was certain.

Clajak turned on his heel and dashed
after Egilka. “The bastard brought his pet Tragooms,” he told the
Imdiko. “Disappearing would be a good plan.”

Egilka nodded. “My room is on the
opposite edge of the city. I suggest we get there as fast as we can
in case the Bi’isil tries to find us.”

Clajak grinned. “Try to keep up, old
man.”

He took off. He heard Egilka splutter
at the insult, but the hard thuds of the Imdiko’s shoes beat on the
ground behind him. Running at top speed, so fast they were blurs to
most of those they passed, they were soon at the opposite edge of
the city.

* * * *

Egilka took the lead once they’d gotten
about halfway through the city. He tried not to think it was
because Clajak let him. The prince didn’t know where they were
headed, only a general direction. Still, Egilka wanted to believe
that he outran his companion. He wasn’t that old, damn
it.