Playing With Fire (5 page)

Ignoring his nakedness, he straightened and stared off into the distance, offering Rall a small smile as he was helped back into his tunic.

Zujan chuckled, the sound sending shivers down his spine. “Your carriage is almost ready to leave, sweet Rall. Do you have any other advice for my prince?”

Rall shook his head. “L-learn much.”

“I will. I will learn how not to rule.” Wintras patted Rall on the back. “Enjoy your freedom, and thank you for the things you did for me.”

Rall’s eyes filled with tears as the boy nodded.

“Don’t cry, Rall. You’re free.” How he envied the boy that.

“I-I know.”

Zujan stood, held one hand out to Rall. “Come now, I will show you to your carriage.”

“Goodbye, Rall.” He tried not to be jealous, tried not to wish too hard that it was him going instead. Rall had been a slave to Zujan for so long, it was well past time for him to be free, to know again his own life.

Soon enough, Zujan would tire of toying with him and he would be allowed to return home himself.

Or so he hoped.

Chapter Three

Zujan watched Rall’s carriage leave, the poor prince’s tears drying on the back of his hand. Pity, the boy was obedience personified and a sweet hole to take. Still, he’d been watching the lad and how Rall lorded over the harem and knew it was time. Always cut them loose before they attempt to overthrow you. A good rule of thumb.

He wandered back through his halls, heading toward his private rooms. The bar’cha danced idly about him, amusing him as they were distracted by this and that, He had ordered Wintras to ready him a bath and to prepare to bathe him.

It would be most fun—finding this strong boy’s breaking point, and a time limit too?

Delicious.

He found his rooms, the edges of his cloaks frosty, the masses of bar’cha dancing, performing for him. “Is my bath ready, prince?”

Eyes on the ground, voice even and dull, Wintras replied. “It is, Zujan.”

“Oh, excellent. Come undress me then. I am eager.” He held out his arms, spun.

“You want me to undress you as if you were a child?”

He stopped, arched an eyebrow. “I do not believe I asked for your questions, prince.”

Wintras shrugged and came to him, fingers clumsy and untutored as they fumbled with his clothing. Zujan watched the bar’cha, the little buttons of light curious, watching Wintras, moving closer. Odd. They never seemed so curious about the others. One got too close, and Wintras batted it away with a tut. He blinked as the faery disappeared, simply popping out of existence with a shower of sparks. “What did you just do?”

“I’m undressing you.”

Zujan frowned. The bar’cha must have been ill-made. Broken. Something. “Well, be a bit more enthusiastic.”

Wintras actually looked at him then smiled rather wickedly and ripped Zujan’s clothes down the middle.

Zujan shrugged the remnants of his clothes off, careful to keep his face still. With a thought, he burned the seams of Wintras’ tunic, the cloth falling to the ground, smoldering, leaving the boy naked.

“You, my sweet prince, have lost your clothing privileges. Congratulations. Now. Bath?”

Wintras offered him a stunned look. “Are you blind? It’s right there.”

“That is your second question of the evening, Wintras. Must I remind you that you agreed to obey, to submit?” He gave the prince his coldest stare. “I kept my word. You will keep yours.”

“I have obeyed you!” Wintras stared right back at him.

“You have not submitted.” Beautiful boy.

Wintras glared a moment longer and then turned and went on all fours. “There.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What are you about, pet?”

Wintras popped up, growling at him. “Submit, obey, no questions, undress me, do it faster, you did it wrong, obey, submit! I thought you wanted me on my knees in front of you! Make up your mind, Zujan!”

The bar’cha spun, appearing out of nowhere, the air going icy. “I ordered you to undress and bathe me. I have done as you asked, I have released Rall. You will keep your word.” The fury felt good, rich, icy.

“I am trying!” Wintras batted at the bar’cha that came too close to him.

“You are not trying hard enough!”

Wintras stopped, took a breath, and relaxed, looking past Zujan’s shoulder. “I agreed to obey and submit to you for a moon. I am doing that.”

“Then bathe me.” Stubborn boy.

“Am I supposed to carry you to the tub?”

He actually chuckled, shaking his head, amused. “No. I can manage that part.”

Zujan moved to the tub, sliding in, moaning at the heat. Wintras trailed him slowly and took hold of the soap and a cloth. The washing that began was perfunctory, rough.

“Stop.” he held up an arm, the pale skin rubbed red. “I have fragile skin.”

Wintras snorted and stepped back. Zujan rolled his eyes, tugging the bell. He had given up Rall for this?

The sweet little thing who usually bathed Zujan appeared, rubbing his eyes, blinking. “Yes, Master?”

“Help me with my bath.”

Wintras moved back into the shadows as Sami’s soapy little hands began sliding over him. The lad worked gently, quickly, and it wasn’t long before he was clean, sliding from the tub into a warm robe.

“Do you need anything else, Master?”

“No, peep. There is a tray in the outer chambers. Take it to share with your mates.” He winked, smiling at the look of pleasure in the lad’s eyes.

The prince remained quiet, half-hidden in the shadows the whole time, though Zujan could feel Wintras’ gaze on him.

“Have one of the harem boys sent up, Sami. Tyr, perhaps, or Mal.” Zujan settled on his bed, piled high with one blanket after another, relieved to hide his shivering, his shaking. Bathing exhausted him, chilled him deep inside, but there was no reason to share that knowledge.

“Yes, Master.” His slave waited until he offered his hand for a kiss and then off Sami went.

He heard Wintras shifting, the man had to be freezing with nothing to wear, but no complaint was made, the stubborn fool remaining quiet. He arranged his pillows, relaxing back against them, waiting, watching. In no time, Tyr entered, red hair wild, freckles peppering the pale skin. “My Lord?”

He offered the boy a smile, the expression widening when he saw Wintras shift in the shadows. “I wish you to pleasure the prince, Tyr.”

Wintras gasped, obviously surprised. The prince shrank back further in the shadows.

“Oh, no. Out here by the fire so I can see.” Zujan didn’t bother to hide his smile.

The prince moved toward the fire, hands covering himself. “Surely you meant him to pleasure you, Zujan.”

“Do not begin to believe you understand my wishes, prince. Place your hands behind your neck.” He was chilled, sore from too much magic and not enough contact.

Wintras stood with the fire at his back and slowly raised his hands, linking them behind his neck. The prince’s body shone from the backlighting of the fire, the dark blue eyes lost in the shadow cast on his face. Tyr, a strong, broad shouldered man, moved to stand behind Wintras, hands wrapping around, fingers sliding under the flat belly. Wintras drew in a sharp breath, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. The prince was not quite as tall as Tyr, nor as broad shouldered, so Tyr framed the golden skinned Wintras perfectly.

Zujan knew Tyr’s habits, the pet excelled at teasing, at driving another mad with long, slow touches. It quite warmed him. Wintras’ body betrayed him, cock quickly growing hard, reaching for Tyr’s hands. There were tears on Wintras’ cheeks when his eyes closed. Zujan watched the huge hands sliding over Wintras’ skin, so gentle, so sure. Wintras’ thighs were carefully parted, balls held in gentle fingers.

Wintras began to tremble; Zujan wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been looking so intensely, and the prince took a breath, a sound catching in his throat.

“You’re quite beautiful in your need, my prince.” Zujan purred, hand sliding over his own body. Wintras’ eyes remained closed but a soft shudder moved through the golden body, the long, hard cock bobbing.

“Are his nipples sensitive, Tyr?” He smiled as one hand slid up, pinching and rubbing. Wintras gasped, body jerking, another sob coming from the lovely prince.

“Yes, my Lord. Quite sensitive.”

“Oh, how lovely.” He smiled. “Do you think piercing them with jeweled rings counts as harming him, pet?”

Wintras’ eyes flew open. “Yes!”

Zujan chuckled, amused. “But think how you would look—jewels in your nipples, in the tip of your need, chains holding them joined.”

“You are a monster.” Wintras looked horrified, though he noted the lovely erection had not faded.

“Such accusations! Tyr, am I a monster?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Do I mistreat you?”

“Never, my Lord.”

Wintras drew himself very straight, but could not hide the tremors that moved through him at Tyr’s continuing touches. “You forget, Zujan that I am here under duress.”

“No, prince. You are here by your own promise.” His hand wrapped around his own shaft, sliding lazily.

“I have not forgotten, though you seem to have, that I was only here to make that promise because you were holding me prisoner.”

“Tyr. Pet. Your ministrations have not stolen the stridence from my prince’s voice. Have you lost your touch?”

Tyr gave a growl, hands moving faster on Wintras’ body. Such a very good boy. Wintras gasped again, breath quickly becoming short, loud in the room. Oh, yes. That was much more pleasant than listening to the lad complain endlessly.

Wintras shook his head, whispering “no” and “don’t” and “please.”

“Submit to my will, prince. It is your duty.”

“What do you want of me?” Wintras asked, voice hoarse.

“I want you to feel. You are being offered pleasure. Accept it.”

Wintras’ head dropped, his body starting to move, thrusting his cock through the tunnel of Tyr’s hand. Zujan’s own hand moved in time, enjoying the way the flush traveled up along Wintras’ belly. It wasn’t long at all before Wintras gasped loudly, seed flying over Tyr’s hand. He purred, hand moving faster.

“Lick Tyr’s hand clean, prince. Thank him for his work.”

Wintras shot him a disbelieving look, whimpered and took Tyr’s hand, licking at it with small, tiny flicks of his tongue. “Th-thank you, Tyr.”

“My pleasure.” Tyr gave Wintras a smile, eyes warm as they turned to him. “May I beg your indulgence, my Lord? I have not tasted you on my tongue in moons.”

He purred softly, drawing the blankets back so they might see his need. Wintras gasped softly again, shrinking back into the shadows once more. “No, prince. You will stand at the foot of the bed. You will watch.”

Wintras walked slowly, the prince obviously reluctant. “Why?”

“Because I will it.”

Tyr knelt between his legs, cheek soft and warm against his shaft. Wintras sighed but stood at the foot of the bed, eyes looking somewhere in the general vicinity of the back of Tyr’s head.

“Now, I want you to touch Tyr. He was kind to you, brought your pleasure. You should do the same for him.” Zujan moaned as Tyr took him in that warm mouth, sucking and licking. Wintras gave him a hard glare, but the prince climbed onto the bed, behind Tyr, hands moving up along the long legs. Tyr’s groan vibrated around him, red curls beginning to bob. “Yes.”

Wintras didn’t look at him, concentrating instead on Tyr. The long fingered hands slid over Tyr’s ass, and then split, one going up along Tyr’s spine, the other disappearing around Tyr’s waist. Zujan pushed his fingers through Tyr’s hair, hips moving, fucking the hot mouth with sure motions. Tyr was moaning around his cock, obviously enjoying whatever it was Wintras was doing. He arched, thighs parting, bar’cha lighting the room as his need grew.

Tyr’s suction increased, a cry vibrating around his cock, heat splashing against his leg. His own orgasm followed in short order, balls throbbing, emptying into Tyr’s lips. Wintras moved back to the end of the bed, sitting, curled around himself, eyes on the fire.

Tyr licked him clean then tucked him into the blankets. “Thank you, my Lord. Shall I bring him to the harem?”

“Do what you will with him, Tyr. I’ll call for him when I want him.”

“Thank the goddess. Get me out of here, Tyr.” Wintras was already standing and at the door, having moved with great speed to be out of Zujan’s rooms.

His peace was shattered, frustration slamming to the forefront again. “On second thought, have him gagged and bound between two of the trees in the orchard. A day or two of being used by the farm hands might sweeten his tongue.”

“What? No! You cannot. I agreed to submit to you not to be raped by others as well!”

“I can do as I wish. I am the master here, and it is high time you understood that.” He pulled the bell, the guards appearing immediately, bulky and heavy and broad. “Gagged and strapped between two tall trees. He is not to be permanently marked, but my loyal ones can make whatever use they might find in him.” He stopped, sneering. “He has been found lacking.”

“Monster!” shouted Wintras, anything further gagged by one big hand.

Zujan waved his hand. “Bring it back when it learns manners.”

Wintras was dragged off, fighting and kicking.

Tyr frowned and stroked his leg. “Let me stay, Master?”

He looked down, fingers sliding through the wild curls. “Yes, sweet one. You have pleased me well.”

“What can I do for you, Master? To make up for that ungrateful beast?”

“Warm me, Tyr. Show me your talents.”

“Oh, yes, Master. Thank you.” Tyr’s fingers slid over his skin, soft and teasing, sensitizing his flesh. He pulled the heavy blankets around them, allowing Tyr to worship him.

As was his due.

* * * *

Wintras’ arms ached. He was sunburned and bug-bitten. He’d been violated. His feet were bloodied from being dragged out to the orchard. But worst of all?

He was bored.

He’d been used at sun-up and again at the next sun-up, and otherwise left to hang between the trees, not even a guard to rail against. It was too uncomfortable to sleep, and the sun made his head fuzzy, burned the top of his shoulders, his backside.