Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (35 page)

As Gelan had explained to the Imdiko, “We rearranged our leave to coincide with yours and got screamed at in the process for the last minute change.  Do you have any idea of how hard it is to switch vacations in our department?  Have a heart, Krijero.”

“I didn’t ask you to change your holiday schedule.  That’s on you,” the psych had pointed out.  “I don’t even know why I told you when I was off and where I was going.”

“Because secretly you want us to go with you,” Wynhod had said.  “See?  I could be a psych.  I’ve figured out how your mind works.”

“You haven’t figured out shit, you thick-skulled Nobek.  Why can’t you two take no for an answer?”

They hadn’t taken no for an answer, and Krijero finally relented.  He had told them two weeks before the vacation they could tag along with the warning he would do his fishing and hiking as he’d planned.  If they were bored, that was their problem.

It hadn’t been boring for one second.  The little cabin nestled discreetly in an outcropping of rock, nearly invisible until one came within a few steps away.  It was somewhat primitive with no lighting other than the firepit, where they had to do all their cooking as well.   Spear fishing had turned out to be a fun diversion and the fucking … well, that was always good.

Krijero drew a knife out of the sheath he had strapped to one thigh.  He knelt beside his kill and set to work gutting and skinning the massive rizpah.

“You have to dress these things right away, or their internal organs burst and poison the meat.”  He worked fast and efficiently, his muscles moving in a wonderful way beneath his chill-bumped skin.  Gelan drew closer to watch him, not the work he did.  In his peripheral vision, he noted Wynhod doing the same thing.  His Nobek’s rust-colored trunks were as tented as his own as they gazed at the Imdiko.

Krijero, unaware of the nature of the scrutiny he was under, told them about the cuts he made, the best ways to cook rizpah, and Gelan wasn’t sure of what else.  Gelan made noises from time to time to keep the Imdiko talking so he could continue to enjoy the view.

The Dramok swallowed as he watched Krijero.  Every day, especially the last few in which they’d spent unending hours in each other’s company, convinced him more and more that this was the Imdiko for his clan.  While Gelan and Wynhod were so similar as to make their union perfect, Krijero was a complementary opposite.  He added depth to their group because he wasn’t the same as they were.  Wynhod fit comfortably, someone Gelan could count on to be on the same page most of the time.  Krijero was different, adding the excitement of the unknown.  His distinctive personality offered unique flavor to their lives.  It was like having a delicious dish and adding an ingredient that made it gourmet.

There was so much to this man that Gelan could only now begin to appreciate.  Krijero’s special mix of childlike wonder and vulnerability, along with his high intelligence and world weariness, appealed to the Dramok.  It more than appealed; it drew him close and made him want to remain near.  Even now, standing only inches away from the Imdiko, Gelan wished to get closer.

Krijero rose from his butchering of the rizpah.  Gelan and Wynhod helped him toss the entrails and head of the rizpah into the lake, where they would be consumed by the other fish.  They then gathered the chunks of edible meat and headed for the cabin, Wynhod at Krijero’s side and Gelan following slightly behind.  Krijero’s taut, smooth buttocks were most enjoyable to watch as they walked the well-worn path from the lake.

Wynhod said something that made the Imdiko laugh.  The full-throated sound pleased Gelan as much as the ass in front of him.  Krijero laughed too damned seldom as far as the Dramok was concerned.  Gelan wanted the Imdiko to be happy.  More than that, he wanted this Imdiko happy with him, happy enough to be his lifemate.

They entered the cabin.  The tiny structure consisted of only two rooms, along with a bath facility.  The great room was smallish with a sitting area and firepit.  Rough-hewn logs, cut from the nearby forest, partitioned it from the sleeping room with the natural rock formation making up the outer walls.  A security field that could be set to transparent or opaque made up the front barrier that led straight out to the lake.  Because the area was so secluded, there was rarely reason to shield the indoors from outside.  The interior was as bare-bones as a room got.  It didn’t invite a lot of dalliance on days as nice as this one.

The room did contain freeze storage.  Krijero packed the rizpah steaks into that bin.  “You guys can take some of this for yourselves to eat at home.  A bit of revenge for you, Wynhod, being able to eat the fish that tried to eat you.”

The Nobek grinned.  “I would enjoy that.  It’s still a lot of meat for even three of us.”

“Oh, I usually leave most of what I catch for the clan that owns this place.  They don’t charge me for the week’s use, but I figure it’s nice to show appreciation for letting me stay.”

Gelan handed off his cuts to Krijero.  He continued to contemplate that barely covered wet body, the face still exposed with his usual mess of hair slicked back.  The Dramok finally couldn’t stand to simply look anymore.  The moment the Imdiko closed the freeze storage, Gelan backed him into the nearby rock wall.  His hands wandered all over that damp, nude flesh, his mouth tasting the too-lovely face.  He felt Krijero’s rising interest against his own eager groin.

The Imdiko laughed and pushed back.  “Hey!  I’ve got rizpah slime all over my hands.”

Gelan kept grabbing.  “Then let’s get you washed up, Imdiko.”

Wynhod growled a lustful sound at that suggestion.  Gelan grabbed the front of Krijero’s tiny soaksuit and used it to pull him from the great room through the bedroom that only possessed a sleeping mat for furniture.  From there he tugged the chuckling Imdiko into the facility.

A heated underground spring ran beneath the cabin.  The owners had taken advantage of that feature to dig a deep rock-lined bathing pool, which steamed day and night.  Gelan cut off Krijero’s snickers with a demanding kiss next to the pool.  The Imdiko melted against his body, molding to Gelan’s frame with soft surrender that made his senses reel.

Gelan broke the kiss to stare into Krijero’s glazed eyes.  His cocks engorged with brutal need against the other man’s belly.  He shoved at the soaksuit barely containing the equally aroused Krijero, making it slide down to the Imdiko’s ankles.

Gelan’s voice was rough with emotion.  “Get in.”

The corners of Krijero’s mouth lifted in a knowing smile, a smile that only made Gelan more desperate to touch, pleasure, and be pleasured with the other man’s body.  The Imdiko stepped into the steaming pool where Wynhod already waited to take over his seduction.  Gelan yanked his own soaksuit off to crumple next to Krijero’s and jumped in with the other two.

He stepped up to the men, sandwiching their intended Imdiko between his and his clanmate’s bodies, touching, touching, touching and yet never getting nearly enough of Krijero.

* * * *

Krijero found it hard to believe he’d begun his holiday utterly pissed off with the two men now making him feel so damned good.  Three days ago, he might have let that monster rizpah bite Wynhod in half with barely a twinge to his conscience.  Yet now he had to admit it had been the best vacation of his life.

He came to the cabin by the lake at the foot of the Verset Mountain Complex once a year to spearfish, hike, read, and generally enjoy being alone.  Not having to try to be socially acceptable to others was a huge appeal of this place, tucked in a small corner of the region where few knew to come.  Here Krijero could be as clumsy and messy as he wanted for an entire week without having to endure smirks, or even worse, looks of sympathy.  He was free to be himself.

Gelan’s surprise announcement that he and Wynhod had switched their time off to coincide with Krijero’s had been an unwelcomed surprise.  He’d not appreciated the pair’s claim that the psych should use the opportunity to continue to ‘evaluate’ their lack of attraction for Imdikos.  In fact, he’d been livid that they would dare to infringe on his holiday.  He’d flatly refused to change his plans to go hunting or mountain climbing.  He was going to spearfish, damn it.  Alone.

Gelan and Wynhod bargained.  Cajoled.  Downright begged.  They wore on Krijero until he’d grudgingly given in.  However, he did warn that he would have his vacation the way he wanted and they could stay the hell out of his way.  They’d agreed.

The beginning of the first day, he’d managed to keep them at a slight distance.  He’d risen first thing in the morning and headed out into the lake, ignoring Gelan’s offer to cook breakfast.  When Krijero came ashore in his skimpy soak suit, it had been somewhat gratifying to watch the two waiting men choke on their own spit to see how little he wore when he went swimming.  It had been hilarious to see the big, bad Dramok and Nobek practically panting to get on his good side, toweling his shivering body, pressing a hot protein drink in his hands, insisting he warm himself in the pool.

The truth was, Krijero enjoyed the attention.  He enjoyed the company of this pair as much as he loathed admitting it.  He liked the sex.  Most insidious of all, he couldn’t help but sink into the sense of belonging, that false notion that something longer than temporary might be had.

Right now, with Gelan and Wynhod washing, kissing, and fondling him so expertly, that mind-drunk feeling of being exactly where he was supposed to be stole over him once more.  Krijero moaned with arousal as their usual deft handling of him had his cocks thick and heavy with arousal.

Wynhod was tonguing Krijero’s pert nipples when Gelan’s commanding voice, low and assured in his ear, sent a ticklish thrill down his spine.  “Hands behind your back, Imdiko.  Keep them there.  You will do only what you are told.”

Krijero melted under the domination, placing his hands as ordered.  Whether or not Gelan was actually a Nobek was still up for debate, but he did know how to be a Dramok when he wanted control.  Krijero found it easy to give in to him when he chose to be like this.

The Imdiko groaned as Gelan’s palms circled his cocks and slowly, steadily stroked.  Krijero’s head fell back on the man’s shoulder as he surrendered himself to the pleasuring.

Gelan sighed as he looked into the Imdiko’s heavy-lidded eyes.  “The most beautiful thing about you is that you have no idea how beautiful you are.”

Wynhod’s hot mouth ended its assault on Krijero’s chest.  His fingertips took his tongue’s place, gently tugging to make the Imdiko shudder with want.

The Nobek told Gelan, “We’ll have to convince him of that, my Dramok.”

“If it takes my whole life.”

His words slowly sank into Krijero’s awareness.  The Imdiko blinked at Gelan, and opened his mouth to protest.  The feral warning look he received stopped his voice.

Gelan said, “You do know you don’t have permission to speak?”

Krijero dropped his gaze from the Dramok’s stare and closed his mouth.  When would Gelan accept that he’d never clan with him?  Damn it, when would he give up this stupid chase?

Apparently, it wouldn’t be today, because the Dramok added, “You are mine and Wynhod’s.  You belong to us, Imdiko.”

Krijero felt a stab of fear.  Gelan couldn’t ask him to clan.  Sure, if he did and Krijero accepted, it would guarantee him companionship for life.  But what would that mean when they eventually tired of him as Pertak had? 

Being clanned to men who no longer wanted him had to be worse than not being clanned at all.  To see the disappointment every day of his life, to be rejected in his own home … it would be a nightmare that only death could release him from.  He didn’t want Gelan and Wynhod to look at him that way.  Not ever.

He couldn’t join Gelan’s clan.  He absolutely could not be their Imdiko.

The seconds passed.  Gelan said no more, only mouthing Krijero’s ear as he continued that slow, delicious stroking of his cocks.  Wynhod’s mouth traveled up to capture Krijero’s, his tongue reaching deep to explore as he rolled the peaks of his nipples between his fingers.  The Imdiko let lust wash through his body as they played with him, making him harder and hungrier with every passing second.

Wynhod’s raspy tongue stroked Krijero’s, urging it to twine in a sinuous dance.  The kiss alone would have been enough to excite the Imdiko’s senses.  Wynhod kissed like pure erotic desire, the taste of him wild and delicious.  Krijero sucked on his tongue, drawing it in so he could have more of that flavor.

Meanwhile the Nobek continued to tweak, tug, and caress Krijero’s sensitive nipples, sending fiery darts of pleasure down into his gut where Gelan’s hands ceaselessly stroked him.  Krijero kept fighting the urge to shove into those rough, calloused hands faster as desire spiked with increasing frequency.  He was under orders to do only what he was told, which meant no moving unless given permission.  He’d learned in one of his earliest encounters with the pair that disobedience meant instant punishment.  Not that discipline was such a bad thing in Krijero’s book.  However, the memory of lying naked over Wynhod’s lap for a hard-handed spanking followed by standing for an hour facing a corner of their sleeping room still had the power to humiliate him.  At his age, being treated like a naughty child had not been fun in the least.

What was happening right now, however, was a lot of fun.  Krijero just had to keep obeying Gelan and Wynhod for it to continue. 

“I need to be inside your ass,” the Dramok sighed in his ear.  “Out of the way, Wynhod.”