(The Dark Servant)Midnight Matters A. Ellas (e book reader free .txt) 📖

“One hundred and three?” Jisten asked.

“It was a dream, a very silly dream, and Scorth will not let me forget about it. And he keeps upping the number, too.”

I am merely giving Rak a new goal

, Scorth said with dignity.

“Lucky for you two, I don’t mind being left out of the joke,” Jisten said. He stroked Rak’s wings. “And I’ll make you think of something else.”

Rak ran light fingers down Jisten’s chest. “I accept that challenge.”

“I’ve never asked, but is there something you would like me to do other than your wings?”

“Me,” said Rak immediately.

“Before your wings?” Jisten scratched his jaw in surprise.

“My wings are perfectly oiled already. The rest of me yearns to feel you inside me again.”

Shrugging as if he couldn’t comprehend Rak, Jisten oiled himself. “Well, I did ask.” He gently turned Rak onto his stomach and massaged his butt some more. Once Jisten shifted into position, Rak pushed himself onto the cock without waiting. Jisten lay along Rak, to maximize contact. “How about slow?” he asked. “We’ve indulged several times.”

But not four hundred

, Scorth sent.

“Uhm, no, not four hundred.” Jisten sounded embarrassed.

“Slow is fine,” muttered Rak, ignoring Scorth.

“So, was I good every time for one hundred and three times?” Jisten asked, ears turning red.

“I did say it was a silly dream,” replied Rak, blushing himself. “We were flying together.”

And you had silver and black wings!

“That doesn’t sound silly. It sounds nice. I would love to have silver and black wings and fly.”

Rak slowly rolled against Jisten. “It was very nice. But it was not four hundred times. It was not even one hundred and three times. It was thirty times, at the most.”

“Is exaggeration a draconic trait?” Jisten moved easily with Rak.

“It can be,” said Rak.

“So he shares your dreams?”

Sometimes

, Scorth sent.

“ Ix, not generally. But occasionally, my dreams are so emotionally charged that they intrude into his sleep. He always teases me in that event, after he wakes me up, usually in the rudest way imaginable. I suspect Scorth’s main goal in life is keeping me humble.”

Only when necessary

, Scorth sent, sounding shocked.

Rak rolled his eyes at the dragon.

Jisten kissed Rak’s neck and nibbled his ears. “Enough of that. Pay attention to me.”

Rak pushed back against Jisten. “Mmmm.” His internal muscles went to work.

“I am not going for four hundred or even thirty,” Jisten breathed in Rak’s ear. “But I do want you utterly loved and satisfied.”

“Good,” Rak breathed back. “But I do wish we could fly.” He pictured the memory of the dream for Scorth, especially the harness. Scorth snorted in indignation and several bushes were denuded. After a pair of very satisfactory climaxes, the two men resumed cuddling.

Rak sighed. “I must go.” “Why?” asked Jisten, startled. Rak was already up and dressing.

“I have been summoned.”

“Oh, yes, let us both answer this summoning. I have a surprise for the summoner involving the sharp end of my sword.”

An excellent idea

, Scorth cheered mentally.

“ Ix, I forbid it. I swore a vow to this man in order to protect my past. Killing him solves nothing. Leave it be.”

“Killing him solves many things, including protecting your past,” Jisten replied. “And I swore to protect you. That’s what a Valer does. Protect his Loftoni in ways he cannot protect himself.”

“Not this time, Captain.” Rak flashed a smile. “I love that you want to protect me, but this one I must face alone.

Jisten ran his hand down Rak’s cheek. “Except that you only submit.”

“And at times that is what I need to do.” Rak turned his head and kissed Jisten’s palm.

“Because of the prophecy? Fine, you do what you must and I’ll do what I must.”

Rak had a feeling that Jisten was going to ignore his command to not get involved. It was a good feeling, but also left a pit of fear in his gut. He swung up on Vyld and told the stallion to run before Jisten could get himself organized enough to pursue.

As soon as Rak left, Jisten told Scorth, “We need to talk. We share information now.”

Chapter Fourteen: Summoned Again

Rak hurried to Hasaviz’s office, the summons now an implacable pull that didn’t even allow him to stop by his suite to change into his slave tunic. The ride from the lake had taken far too much time and Rak fretted that he would be punished for the delay.

He pulled on the bell rope and waited. Hasaviz pulled open the door and studied him with a cold expression. “Took you long enough, slave. Kneel and crawl into the training room. Now.”

Rak dropped to his knees, then bent forward and kissed Hasaviz’s boots before he crawled between the man’s legs and into the office. He went directly to the training room with Hasaviz following. Once he was naked, Hasaviz locked the collar on his neck and strapped him to the rack.

Fury in cream and gold robes sprang off the couch and strode over. Murson looked down at Rak with such hatred that the Loftoni was thrust into a memory of Xaethien. If Rak hadn’t been tied down, he’d have bolted, prophecy or no, deal or no, control spell or no.

Murson slapped Rak’s face several times in succession, leaving red marks. “How dare you try to kill me, filth!” He thrust his hand into Rak’s rectum, hard and deep. Hasaviz supervised, his lips pressed together, silent.

Straining against the straps, Rak screamed in agony even as he orgasmed. “Please forgive me,” he begged. The first inside him pumped, and each motion set off a new wave of pain, of pleasure, and of slave fires. The fires surged through him, building with each wave despite a series of false climaxes that sullied his belly and fed energy to his tormentor.

Murson pumped his fist in and out, watching with cruel satisfaction on his face as Rak’s body moved in counterpoint. The reaction was no more under Rak’s control than his erection was. He