Master Game

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Cassandra Kane

Master Game

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Master Game Cassandra Kane All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2007 Cassandra Kane

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-865-4

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Editor: Vikky Bertling

Cover Artist: Reneé George

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Master Game Cassandra Kane When Cally Thaykes is pitted against the mysterious Kye Jaks in the Shri-La combat championship finals, she’s only intent on winning the game. But the blue-skinned Kye is on a mission and, during the combat, transports Cally to Aylora, an all-male mining planet on the edge of the galaxy. She’s to be the prize in a contest to find the next male consort to Prince Hermes, ruler of Aylora -- and to provide the prince with an heir. Cally wastes no time in escaping, with Kye and Orantes, captain of the Prince’s bodyguards, in hot pursuit. Trapped together by a sudden storm, Cally, Kye and Orantes find their volatile feelings turning to lust, and form a bond in ways they never experienced before. When the tyrannical Prince finds them, jealousy forces him to pursue a savage revenge. Will the trio be able to overcome their punishment or be separated forever?

Chapter One There was nothing in the world that beat running into the arena, knowing you were about to kick someone’s ass, to the cheer of thousands. Cally Thaykes reminded herself of that as she tightened the straps on her gloves and flexed her fingers. Her knuckles cracked, still a little swollen from previous fights but nothing to stop her from winning. She slid her hands down her thighs to make sure her skin-tight suit had enough ease at the hip and thigh, then ran them over the tight thong holding her long, blonde hair in a ponytail. Letting out a deep breath to ease the pre-game tension, Cally felt her heart do a slow flip as she heard the roar of the crowd from the arena. Game time. The Dancing Pirates’ coach, Bobi Woodlam, poked his head round the door to the Players’ Room. “Ready, Cal? You’re up next.” Cally followed Coach through the labyrinthine stretch of corridors beneath the Chasker Stadium where the Shri-La Combat World Championships were currently underway. She stopped near the entrance to the arena as she saw Daw Anson limping out, supported by two medics, his face bloody. “Watch out for that Ayloran, Cal,” Daw said when he saw her. “He’s got a mean left hook.” Coach touched Cally’s shoulder and said, “We’re being crucified by that new Dragons player, Kye Jaks. Cal, we’re relying on you to put him in his place. You got that?” “Sure, Coach. You can depend on me.” She bared her teeth in a grin. “What do you want me to break?”

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Coach smiled. “Break a leg, chicky.” He slapped her on the back, pushing her toward the entrance to the arena. “That’s my girl.” Cally had been playing professional Shri-La since her teens, but the moment before going out into the arena always made her feel nauseous. A mixture of fear, adrenaline and anticipation caused her belly to go queasy. She loved the game, loved every moment spent before the adoring crowds, but most of all she loved being the best. And she was. She’d given up her private life, had watched her diet like a hawk and trained like a maniac for this moment: the last Golden Dragons player against the last player for the Dancing Pirates in the play-off for the finals. Cally waited at the entrance to the arena as the commentator reeled off the names of the sponsors. The stadium was at full capacity, with fifteen thousand people all waiting restlessly with her as the stadium flunkies re-aligned combat mats, wiped and dried any spots of blood and spit as they set up for the last game. A troupe of Tourellan dancers came out and jumped and somersaulted over each other in displays of gravity-defying choreography, whipping the crowd into a frenzy of excitement. Adrenaline coursed through her. She was impatient to go out and claim her victory. Cally saw her opponent approach the entrance to the Dragons’ area across the arena. She hadn’t played him in any of the games, but recognized him immediately. He was Kye Jaks from the planet Aylora -- a tiny mining-planet on the edges of the Rim that no one had ever heard of -- and he’d joined the Dragons seemingly out of nowhere. Cally was almost six feet tall and solidly built, but the Ayloran had at least six inches on her. His heavily muscled shoulders were wide enough to comfortably sit a Tourellan dancer on each side, but his long lean body displayed the necessary agility for Shri-La combat. Blue-tinged skin, a mass of thick blue hair tied back in a braided knot, and what looked to be a permanent scowl completed the picture of aggressive Ayloran masculinity. She’d come across bigger and more aggressive players, but there was something about Jaks that sent a shiver down her spine. He stared at her with a brooding intensity that set her internal alarm bells ringing. This guy was not to be underestimated.

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She tensed as the commentator went into the pre-game spiel. When he called out her name, Cally jogged into the middle of the combat mats next to the waiting referee and was almost deafened by the cheers and whoops from the crowd. She grinned and waved. A minute later her opponent’s name was called and she was joined by Jaks. Immediately, the crowd’s cheers became boos and hisses. She was definitely the favorite to win. Cally and Jaks turned to face each other. Up close, she noted that the Ayloran’s eyes were black, ringed in gold. A scar clipped his right eyebrow. Interestingly, his mouth was finely molded, hinting at a contained sensuality. Cally experienced a sudden clenching between her legs. If he wasn’t her opponent -- the man she had to beat the crap out of in the next few minutes -- she could easily imagine herself sucking at that beautiful mouth. Then all thought flew as the bell sounded for the start of the first round and, like Pavlov’s dog, she immediately crouched into combat mode. They circled each other warily, taking stock and looking for weakness. Cally threw the first punch, a low jab to his side, followed by a kick aimed at his throat. Jaks blocked the kick, grunting over the blow to his side. He made a swift twist with his wrist that almost caught her ankle, but she had already moved away and was circling behind him. Jaks’ black eyes narrowed, and he crouched low as he waited for her next move. Cally made three more similar passes at him, managing to kick his elbow and the soft spot just above his knee, before she realized he wasn’t fighting back. He was solidly built enough to absorb the blows and, despite the sweat beading his forehead, reacted only with defensive blocks. But it was the small smile playing across those finelyformed lips that gave his game away. Kraga’s Horn, he was trying to wear her out! Cally bared her teeth at him. “Attack, you bastard!” And she drove all her force behind the kick she aimed at his mid-section.

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She wasn’t sure how it happened but the next instant she was flying through the air, her body flipping, and she landed with a loud ooof on her stomach. Her breasts, bound before each fight, ached as she hit the mat full-force and the air escaped from her lungs. Dotted explosions blurred her eyesight. A moment later, a heavy weight fell on her. Jaks. He held her down with his forearm across the back of her neck. His breath fanned her cheek. “You’re mine, Cally,” she heard him whisper. Did he just nip her ear? Before she could attempt to move, he pinched her hard on her exposed upper arm. Her stomach lurched and, gasping for air, she faded into oblivion…

*** “That wasn’t a very subtle way to do it,” Hermes said. Kye shrugged and peeled off his fingerless gloves, dropping them at his feet, quickly followed by his sweat-soaked shirt. He sat on a wooden chair and began tugging at his boots. A servant appeared and helped him take them off. His skin-tight trousers soon followed, and the servant whisked the pile away, leaving him sitting naked on the chair. He sighed and sat back, gingerly stretching his legs before him. “Did you hear me, Kye?” “I heard you.” Kye idly watched Hermes, ruler and prince of Aylora, stride across the room toward him. Tall and slim, the Ayloran prince wore soft leather boots, tight suede breeches, and a large oversized shirt in lace, all of which had been imported at serious cost from Terra. Not that Hermes considered cost. He had inherited half the mining claims on Aylora and was as rich as Croesus. “And you couldn’t just abduct her quietly?” Hermes raged. “Oh, I get it. The Great Kye had to display his athletic prowess and show those Terrans a thing or two. Is that it?” “Maybe.” Kye was in no mood to argue. The series of combats in the Shri-La games followed by the jump through hyperspace to Aylora had left him drained and disoriented. Hermes’ griping about the ethics of it all just gave him a headache.

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“Soon we’ll have half the Terran Star League at our doorstep demanding her back,” Hermes continued, completely oblivious to Kye’s discomfort. “The last thing we want is for them to know how things stand in Aylora.” “And how do things stand?” Hermes began to pace. Light blue hair curled in waves to his shoulders, framing a strong handsome face that easily turned heads. “The games have begun. We’re already down to sixteen candidates. Half of those will be knocked out by the end of the day.” He paused and turned to Kye. “They’re in a frenzy to see the prize.” Inexplicably, Kye’s cock began to harden. “Where is she?” “In the room next door, sleeping. I expect she’ll go through jumpshock when she wakes.” Kye shifted his aching muscles. Hermes stopped and stared at him. His gaze swept over Kye’s naked form, lingered over his hardening cock. The tip of Kye’s thick member nudged his belly button. He raised an eyebrow. “Jumpshock,” Kye said. “I’ve never seen it affect anyone else like that before.” Amused, Kye lifted his cock off his belly and leisurely began to stroke the long, veined length. He watched Hermes’ irritation dissipate, saw his tongue flicking at his lips in a familiar gesture of lust. Kye spread his legs wider to reveal his tight ball sac resting against the seat of the chair and noticed Hermes’ cock jump against the tight restraint of his trousers. Kye smiled, stroking harder until his cock was fully erect. His hooded eyes watched Hermes, noting his lover’s agitation. He knew exactly the moment when Hermes, the prince of Aylora, became Hermes, the submissive. Swallowing, Hermes lifted a hand and waved at the two servants standing at the door. When it had closed behind then, Hermes said, “You’re fighting dirty.” “Dirty’s how you like it,” Kye said softly. “Now come here and suck my cock.” Without hesitation, Hermes complied. He got to his knees before Kye and gripped his thick penis, admiring the striking display of veins ridging its underside. He

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tongued them slowly, up and down, lingering over every curve. He glanced up at Kye, who gave a faint nod of permission, and he took the head into his mouth and began to suck, tongue swirling around the heavy bulbous head and flicking at the sticky wet slit. Kye sighed and buried his hands deep in Hermes’ hair to grasp his scalp. Gently, he pushed his lover’s head over his cock and groaned as he felt it slide to Hermes’ throat. Hermes cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Kye groaned, lifting his hips to piston into Hermes’ eager lips. A moment later, to his surprise, his balls tightened and seed shot into Hermes’ mouth. “I’m sorry,” Kye murmured as Hermes swallowed. “Perhaps it is the jumpshock.” “It’s all right.” Hermes leaned forward to caress Kye’s legs, skirting the bruises at his knee. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly. “I didn’t know how much until I saw you again.” He traced the fine line of hair over Kye’s taut abdomen. Kye felt the familiar and brutal clench of desire. “I’m sure you didn’t lack for companionship.” He grasped a handful of Hermes’ hair and yanked his head back. “Did you?” Hermes’ closed his eyes in an expression of ecstasy. “No one compares to you, Kye. No one.” “No one knows what you want as I do,” he growled. Kye let go of his hair and pushed him away. “Get up and disrobe. Now.” Hermes obeyed, kicking off his short boots and unbuttoning his trousers with trembling hands. He watched with mounting excitement as Kye got to his feet and held out his hand for Hermes’ belt. “Leave the shirt on,” Kye demanded, pulling the belt taut in his hand. Hermes stepped out of his trousers, his cock stiff. He went to pull the shirt aside and Kye barked, “Don’t touch yourself, slave!” Shivering with excitement, Hermes stopped and waited for direction. “Lean on the bedpost.”

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Hermes obeyed, leaning his chest on the bedpost and presenting his back to Kye. He held firmly onto the post in anticipation of what was to come. Kye waited until Hermes stood absolutely still before he took a fistful of lace and tore the expensive shirt off his back. The delicate material disintegrated in his hand. Outraged, Hermes cried out and started to turn. “Turn around, slave!” Kye slapped him hard with the belt across his buttocks. Muttering and shivering, Hermes obeyed. Kye tore the shirt into two long strips. He tied one strip around Hermes’ neck, strapping him to the bedpost, his cheek hard against the wood. Hermes’ cock was stiff with excitement as Kye brought his hands around the bedpost and tied his wrists together with the other strip of lace. Delirious with excitement, Hermes’ rubbed his cock up against the bedpost. “Do not move, slave!” Kye flicked the engorged tip of Hermes’ cock, and the younger man winced. “Stand absolutely still.” Breathing harshly, Hermes complied and waited. Kye walked around and observed Hermes’ back. His muscles were taut with tension, his smooth buttocks clenched. Kye doubled-up the belt and brought it down swiftly across his lover’s backside. Hermes whimpered. Immediately, Kye brought the belt down again and again and again until Hermes’ buttocks were crisscrossed with red marks. As he strapped Hermes, Kye wondered what it would be like to have Cally tied up and if she would enjoy such a game. What would her moans sound like? Would she struggle or submit? He didn’t know what a woman’s body was like. He’d been too intent on winning Cally to take the time to taste the women on Terra. Cally was softer than a man but had greater steel than Hermes. He’d known that looking into her eyes. She would be someone worth mastering.

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Engrossed in his thoughts, Kye whipped Hermes patiently and methodically, waiting for the moment when Hermes completely surrendered. It came when Hermes’ buttocks unclenched and he gave a long, low groan of pleasure. Kye had thought only to please Hermes, to bring him release with his hands, but thinking of Cally had made him hard again. He threw aside the belt and went to Hermes’ dresser across the room, opening the jar of perfumed grease on the counter top. Taking a dollop of grease, he smeared it over his cock and rubbed it between his fingers. He thought of Cally, her teeth bared at him, provoking him. His cock stiffened, unbearably so. Kye returned and spread Hermes’ cheeks, listening to his breathless sigh. Gently, Kye worked his fingers inside Hermes’ anus. He found his entrance already fairly relaxed and Kye was able to slip two fingers inside. Reaching around, he grasped Hermes’ cock, stroking it in long, smooth movements. It jumped in his hands, drawing another groan. “Kye!” Hermes gasped. “Please.” Kye slapped him hard across the buttocks. “Silence!” When he had three fingers comfortably inside, he withdrew and held his own cock firmly, nudging it against Hermes’ anus. He gave a small push which brought him part way inside, and paused to savor the tight warmth encompassing his cock. Then, holding Hermes firmly by the hips, Kye pushed himself further in. Hermes groaned in surrender as Kye eased in until his entire cock was buried. Hermes began to sob as Kye thrust slowly, torturously, building up speed until his balls slapped against Hermes’ in a steady rhythm. Kye was close to orgasm when he leaned against Hermes’ back, reaching around to hold Hermes’ cock with both hands, sliding the throbbing flesh inside his enclosed fist. He felt Hermes’ cock jerk in his hands and felt his seed shooting slickly between his fingers. A second later, his hips pistoning wildly, Kye found his own release and cried out as he shot his load deep inside his lover.

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For a long time their uneven breathing was the only sound in the room. When Kye had caught his breath, he leaned over and bit the back of Hermes’ neck. As Hermes groaned, he said harshly, “I don’t care how many lovers you take, just remember you belong to me.”

*** Cally started awake. Her stomach heaved, and she turned over quickly and emptied its contents beside her. Wiping the drool from the edge of her mouth, she realized she was leaning over the side of a soft bed and had, luckily, vomited on the floor. Cally sat up gingerly and looked about her. Through the semi-darkness of the room she could see dark green drapes covering walls made of roughly hewn stone. Apart from the bed, there was a dresser on the far wall and a couple of chairs, all made of dark wood. She lay in a large four-poster, the mattress deep and soft, although some over-eager interior designer had used the same green drapes as a bedspread. Where was she? One moment she’d been taken down by the Ayloran player in the arena, the next she had passed out. Was this some new hospital? Cally slipped her legs over the edge of the bed. Her muscles were stiff but she was still fully dressed in her combat clothes and, as far as she could tell, not injured. Her unlaced boots were by the side of the bed. She pulled them on, and turned to explore the room. She found a crockery basin full of cold water on the crude wooden dresser and splashed the water over her face, gasping at its iciness. Taking the towel folded next to the basin, she wiped herself dry. Feeling a little bit more herself, Cally stopped to listen for signs of activity but the place was deathly quiet, and the chill in the room unnerved her. She padded to the door and turned the knob. The door gave out into a rock-hewn corridor, devoid of decoration and completely empty. Hesitating as she took a step outside, Cally heard a sound to her left and turned cautiously to follow it. It had come from the next door along, which stood very slightly ajar. A soft, fleshy rhythmic sound came from inside, punctuated by a groan. The sound

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stopped. She waited a moment, and then gently pushed the door open a fraction and peeked inside. She recognized Kye immediately by his blue braided hair. Then her mouth dropped open. He was leisurely greasing his cock, grasping it in both hands and stroking along its length, rubbing at it almost dreamily. His body was perfection, from the wide shoulders and the ridged muscles in his abdomen, to the spectacular cock rising from a flare of dark blue pubic hair at his groin. Finishing with the greasing, he disappeared out of sight to her left, and a moment later she heard a man moan, “Kye! Please!” Cally swallowed, her mouth dry as she pushed the door further and looked around the corner. Kye was angling his cock between the blue buttocks of a man tied to one of the posts of the large four-poster dominating the room. She watched in fascination as Kye penetrated the other man. Her gaze moved over the play of muscles along Kye’s back, and lingered over his firm, smooth buttocks. She’d seen plenty of naked men in the players’ locker rooms, and had even seen groupies handing out blowjobs in the showers as if they were post-game candy. But she’d never seen two men together. This was something new and exciting, drawing her in a strangely mesmeric way. Her thighs involuntarily clenched as she found herself dripping with sexual arousal at the sight of Kye fucking the man lashed to the bedpost, his body a long, lean play of muscles. A moment later, his partner groaned, and Kye threw back his head and cried out, his body shuddering, his breathing ragged, before he brushed away his partner’s long curly hair and whispered something in his ear. Her ear tingled where he had nipped her during the game. Cally stepped back, heart thundering, her face heated. Where the hell was she? And who’d brought her here? Was it Kye? She wanted to storm in and demand answers -- although that seemed so inappropriate considering the circumstances… “You there!” Cally jumped, turning swiftly around. A short stocky man had appeared at the end of the corridor, scowling as he trotted toward her. He was as blue-skinned as Kye,

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as the man Kye had just screwed. As all the Aylorans were said to be. Dear God, was she on Aylora? “Who’s out there?” demanded a voice from inside the room. Terrified, her body instinctively crouched into combat mode. When the stocky man reached her, she lashed out defensively, catching him with a stiff-fingered chop to the throat. The man fell to the floor, gurgling as he clutched his throat. Cally turned and ran.

Chapter Two Orantes Leumis gulped back the last of his cider and tried to ignore his companion sitting across the table. The small public house, Aylora’s Glory, brimmed with men. There was barely jostling room in the cave hulled out of the mountainside. Shift had just ended, and almost all who dropped by stopped to clap him on the shoulder and offer congratulations. Most of the miners included him in a round of drinks, which meant Orantes had drunk seven ciders for free, all in the space of an hour. He was free-floating in the state where physical pain disappeared to nothing and emotional pain became all. “Ay, you’re a hero tonight but who knows about tomorrow,” Terryus said enviously, picking his teeth with a splinter from the tabletop. “There’s still Kye to fight and not a one’s beat him yet.” Kye. Orantes stared down miserably at the dregs in the bottom of his mug. Kye who was at this moment servicing Prince Hermes, his lover. Kye the Champion. Kye who was expected to become Hermes’ consort -- if he won the fight. Kye who had no idea that only that morning Hermes’ mouth had been wrapped around Orantes’ cock as he sucked him dry. It was Kye that Orantes fantasized about to make him hard enough to serve Hermes when the prince kneeled at his feet. “The fight’s rigged anyways,” Terryus said dourly, turning the splinter to use under his dirt-encrusted fingernails. “Don’t know why anyone bothers. If t’were up to me, just crown Kye consort and be done with it. All it feeds is Hermes’ swollen, perfumed head, if’n you ask me.” Orantes had had enough. He lurched to his feet, half pulling out his sword from its scabbard. “That’s treasonous talk, Terr,” he said furiously. “I won’t have it.”

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Before Terryus could reply, a burly grey-haired man appeared at Orantes’ side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, boy. You’re making a fool of yourself.” Orantes quivered for a moment, then his knees buckled under the pressure of Corionus’ hand. He slid to the bench, his sword sheathing as he did so. Corionus eyed Terryus humorlessly. “You been preaching your poison again, sergeant?” Terryus glared at him. “Ain’t said nothin’ no one else weren’t thinkin’.” “Well, you just shut your trap and move on.” “You ain’t captain o’ me no more,” Terryus said mutinously. Corionus withdrew his dagger and brought it slamming down on the table between Terryus’ fingers. Terryus blinked and swallowed. “Ach, it’s jus’ talk. Don’t know why the young pup takes it so serious.” And he slid off the bench and disappeared into the smokefilled room. Corionus looked down at Orantes. The young man was leaning back against the wall, his dark eyes almost crossing. Drunk as a skunk, Corionus thought with a sigh. Orantes had taken a beating in the arena today, and his dusky blue skin was bruised around his prominent cheek bones. With hair wildly loose and his leather vest unbuttoned to expose a muscled chest with a cover of fine dark hair, the boy was wildly desirable. The Glory palpitated with the lust from more than half the men in the room. They’d placed bets on how long it would take for him to need taking home, and there was already an unsettling atmosphere of aggressive competition for being the one who did so. Which is why Corionus had stepped in. He’d been Orantes’ captain till the year before when Hermes had announced his retirement and given the position as head of his personal bodyguard to Orantes. By rights Corionus should be furious at the kid but, really, what had he expected Hermes to do? Hermes was just like any other man in the

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Glory with a hard-on for Orantes, the only difference being Hermes had enough power to do something about it. Truth be told, Corionus felt a little sorry for the Orantes. “Come on,” Corionus said, and hoisted Orantes up by the arm. “I’m getting you home.” He managed to get Orantes outside, where the fresh air seemed to revive him. Orantes pulled away with a growl, then stumbled over a broken piece of guttering and fell to the blue-powdered earth. Corionus sighed and leaned over to drag him up by the arms. Orantes struggled futilely as Corionus held him firmly with an arm placed over his shoulders. “Let me go, you dirty sorrek,” he muttered, using the Ayloran work for claim-jumper. He swung his hands up into fists as though still arguing with Terryus. “Don’t dare talk about Kye that way. He’s twice the man you are.” So that’s the way it goes. Corionus sighed as he felt Orantes sag suddenly against his side. He’d thought the boy was holding a torch for Hermes, but if it was Kye he was after he might just as well be howling for the moon. It was no secret -- except perhaps to Kye -- that Hermes was having his way regularly with Orantes, but then there weren’t many in Hermes’ household who hadn’t had Hermes at least once. Hell, he himself had taken that dubious pleasure a time or two. But Kye was a different matter. As far as anyone knew, Hermes was his only lover. Corionus had worked with Kye and knew him well enough, but even he didn’t know what Kye really felt for Hermes. All he knew for sure was that Kye would let nothing come between him and being master of Aylora. Becoming Hermes’ official consort was just the easiest way to do it.

*** Hermes shook with anger, his handsome face purple. “Why can’t you find her?” he shouted at the guard. “She’s the only woman on the planet! How far can she go without being seen?” The guard who’d brought him the news visibly quailed. “My lord, we’ve searched the grounds, turned every stone --” “Well, turn them over again, you imbecile!”

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The guard turned to look pleadingly at Kye who was standing beside Hermes in his study. With a quick movement Kye indicated that he do as Hermes asked. The guard bowed quickly and ran out of the room. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Hermes continued furiously at Kye. “Who left her door unlocked?” Kye shrugged. “It was your idea to keep her in the next room,” he said flatly. “In fact, it was your idea to bring her here in the first place.” Hermes scowled at him. “You know I can’t consolidate my position as Prince without an heir.” “I know, and I took care of it for you.” Restlessly, Kye began to pace about the room. “Perhaps she saw us,” Hermes said. “She was outside our room, the guard said, and the door was open.” Kye had considered that and felt a momentary discomfort. He knew some Terrans would consider Ayloran sexual practices abhorrent. “Does it matter if she saw us?” “I suppose not.” Hermes sneered arrogantly. “Let her see what’s in store.” He brought his fist down on his desk. “Damn it, Kye, you brought me an Amazon when I wanted a simple breeder. Millions of women in Terra and you bring me Calliope Thaykes, Shri-La champion.” “You need someone strong enough to withstand conditions in Aylora. Someone used to dealing with a lot of men.” At least, that was what he would want for himself, Kye thought as he paused by the great open window behind Hermes’ desk. “She won’t be dealing with anyone once she’s found. I’m keeping her locked up till she breeds me a son.” Kye looked out over the rough battlements surrounding the Keep. Guards regularly patrolled their perimeter, though admittedly not with any great vigilance. There had never been a need. “Where could the bitch have gone?” Hermes asked in frustration.

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Where indeed? Aylora was tough enough for Aylorans with its rocky, barren terrain. God knew how a Terran woman would survive. But the land was also pockmarked by caves -- from small mines to abandoned shelters -- providing a thousand hiding places for someone wily enough to use them. He didn’t think Cally was a fool. He remembered the steel in her eyes. Not at all. “What if someone else finds her first?” Hermes asked. Kye frowned and turned to him. “What do you mean?” “I mean someone who wants to find out what a woman is like and won’t care that she’s meant for me, that’s what I mean.” Hermes scowled. “I’m not passing someone else’s spawn as my own.” For the first time, Kye felt shock wash over him. He’d never considered the possibility that Cally might be found and raped, or even secretly kept, by someone else. He’d heard of such things happening in the past when women began to be rare in Aylora. From the first, he’d had every confidence of Cally being found quickly. The thought of her steel being broken by a random viciousness made him catch his breath. “I’ll go after her myself,” Kye said tightly. Hermes nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, do that. Take some of my best men with you. After all the trouble we went through to get her, I want her found and brought back in one piece.” The barracks lay under the thickest part of the Keep’s wall beneath the towers. Most of the castle guards were scouring the grounds, but there was a contingent of Hermes’ personal bodyguards, currently off-duty, sitting at the table playing dice. They jumped to attention as Kye strode in. “I want you and you,” he said, pointing to two of the men, “to follow me. And Orantes as well. He knows the surrounding area better than anyone.” “Orantes is asleep, sir,” one of the men said. “Well, wake him!” The men looked at each other and Kye growled, “What’s the problem?” “Orantes was in the fight today, sir.”

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“The fight?” Kye looked at them impatiently before he understood their meaning. So Orantes was one of those who’d put themselves forward to try to wrestle him from his position. He wouldn’t have thought someone of his youth would have had the balls. “How did he do?” “He won, sir. He’s one of the final four.” Interesting. Yet, still, the men looked at each other uneasily. “What now?” Kye snapped. “What these men fear to tell you is that Orantes is the worse for wear,” Corionus said, emerging from the back of the room where he’d been stoking the fire in the semigloom. “He’ll no doubt have a killer hangover in the morning.” Kye stared at his old friend and saw an accusatory shift to his eyes. His skin prickled uneasily. “I still want him to help in the search.” “I don’t think that’s wise,” Corionus said, holding his gaze steadily. Kye felt a rush of irritation at the continuing challenge from Corionus. “Damn it,” he swore, “I’ll get him out of bed if I have to drag him out myself.” And he stalked up the stairs to the tower room assigned to the captain of the guard.

*** Orantes dreamed he was lying in a large bed in the dark. He could sense a bright figure in the darkness, someone standing just out of eyesight. Tall and slim, like a man yet strangely child-like. Long pale hair floated around a pale face. “It’s all right,” the woman whispered, leaning over him. A woman! Was this what a female looked like? Her skin was white, not the Ayloran blue, and her features were delicate. Large dark eyes watched him with something like affection, and her full mouth smiled. A slim, long-fingered hand touched his cheek. “Orantes.” The sound of his name was like a sigh brushing over his skin. He felt a sudden stab of desire and reached out to touch her hair. She took his hand in hers and turned it over, placing a gentle kiss on his palm. A wave of inexplicable joy washed over him. He

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sighed as she trailed a hand over his body. Her sweet smell permeated the room, so different from the pungent scent of male. Arousing. She touched his cock, which stiffened beneath her hand. “I’ll look after you,” she said softly. “Trust me.” He groaned as her hand began to move over his cock, the fingers gentle and light. Then someone else was in the room, someone who stepped out of the darkness and stood beside her. Kye, his eyes hooded as they stared down at him. The woman pulled away from Orantes, moving toward Kye. He watched as she reached up to kiss Kye. For a moment, his expression became soft as his lips met the woman’s. Orantes felt a welcoming sense of comfort from seeing them together. They both turned to stare at him, and then the woman gently backed into the darkness. Panicked by her loss, Orantes reached out to her. “Don’t leave me!” Kye stood at his side, staring at him. A strange and possessive look came over him. “You’re mine,” he said, and leaned over to touch Orantes’ cock. Orantes felt himself stiffening in both shock and desire as Kye knelt by his side. He felt Kye’s breath at his groin, then his tongue flicked out to caress the length of his shaft. He groaned as Kye took him into his mouth and his lips pumped over him. Awash with desire, Orantes jerked his hips toward Kye’s mouth, savoring the almost unbearable pleasure. Then Kye bit down on him, his teeth pulling along the tender foreskin. His teeth scraped, no longer erotic but painful. Orantes looked down and saw Hermes’ face looking up at him, grinning, his teeth bared. Orantes cried out in horror. “No, Hermes, no!” He sat up and woke, sweat-drenched, in his own room… and blinked at the light spilling from the open door. Someone stood in the doorway, wide shoulders almost touching either side of the entrance. Kye stepped into the room.

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Orantes looked up at him in horror, wondering if it was still a dream. But Kye was real, his smell filling Orantes’ nostrils with the scent of leather and musk. Kye stared down at him with a look of fury, a muscle twitching in the side of his cheek. With shame, Orantes realized he had his own cock in his hand and had obviously been masturbating in his sleep -- thinking of Kye. He could tell from the look on Kye’s face that he’d heard him cry out Hermes’ name. “Get yourself ready, soldier,” Kye said, his voice dangerously soft. “You’re helping me find a missing Terran woman.” Kye turned on his heel and strode out.

Chapter Three Lying on her stomach in the dirt, Cally looked over the ridge to the mining camp below. It was a town of sorts. A series of dirt-covered structures haphazardly lined along narrow streets. Rust-colored machinery and loading vehicles were everywhere, worked by long rows of men. Near the perimeter of the town a large, round building indicated a sporting stadium of some sort, with bright flags flapping in the warm wind. She wished she knew more about the Aylorans. All she knew was that their security sucked big time. It had been easy to slip through the -- well, castle was the closest thing she’d describe it as -- hiding in passageways as guards blindly rushed to the room where she’d last seen Kye. She’d almost managed to escape from the building before one of the guards had practically stumbled across her. She’d put him out with a kick to the groin, followed by another to the head while he fell to the floor. He was a big guy but she wasn’t exactly small, and his guards’ uniform had fit her almost perfectly. She’d taken the cloth wound around his waist as a belt and used it to cover her haid, so that only her eyes showed. Staying in the shadows, she’d passed through the castle almost unobserved. The rocky terrain beyond had been harder to deal with, although it had provided good enough cover. She aimed to go to the nearest town and find the first flight off Aylora. Cally had followed a trail up the side of a rock-studded mountainside. The ground was soft and powdered in blue dust from the countless caves and mining shafts that had been cut into the rock. It was tempting to hide in the darkness and wish all of this would go away, but she refused to succumb to her sense of bewilderment. She was a fighter.

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She’d left the path hours before and picked her way carefully through the rockstrewn hollows between the crags and crevices of the mountain. Eventually Cally had seen the glimmering lights of a town in the valley beyond. She’d picked her way over rocks to the side of the mountain and had crawled around a huge column of rock to find a ledge from which to observe the activity below. Dusk fell, and the town lights glowed even brighter in the soft blue dust. She closed her eyes momentarily, trying not to think of how dry her eyes felt, or of her raging thirst. She fell into a light sleep, her dreams full of Kye.

*** “She’s not far,” Orantes said, pointing out the scuffed boot-print in the powdered earth between two rocks. Kye looked out at the glow from the night-lamps of Andar-Ka, the nearest mining town and Aylora’s capital. It was natural that she’d go to the nearest town. He’d already put the town on alert to find the pale-faced woman dressed as one of Hermes’ guards. On the mountain, Kye had sent guards out in pairs where her trail forked but had kept Orantes with him. It was, he thought, better to keep his enemy close. It seemed strange to think of Orantes as his enemy. He’d always considered Orantes attractive and had admired him for his skill with the sword and his easy-going manner with his men. And he’d felt a bemused sense of flattery. He’d been aware of Orantes’ crush on him -- his glances and blushes when Kye was near had not gone unnoticed. Knowing that he had been in Hermes’ bed and now fought to oust him in the arena infuriated Kye. Hermes’ constant betrayals meant nothing to him. He played the jealous lover because it kept Hermes aroused and interested. No, it was Orantes who had betrayed him. To find him dreaming of Hermes, cock in hand, had sent a bolt of true jealousy through him. It was not Kye he’d blushed for after all, but Hermes.

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And still Kye could not get out of his mind the perfect symmetry of Orantes’ body, exposed and vulnerable as he slept, his hand fisted over the thick glory of his shaft. Kye had watched him from the door for some time before Orantes woke. He’d had to still his own clenching desire to sweep away Orantes’ hand and replace it with his mouth, to take that thick, veined cock deep into his throat until they both found release. Orantes looked at him expectantly, tiredness etched in his face and more than a little fear at Kye’s continued stony silence. “Shall we continue, sir?” Kye nodded and turned abruptly to pick his way through the rocks littered before them. The mountainside had leveled to form a platform high above Andar-Ka. He moved toward the column of rock near the ledge. A booted footprint in the fine dust over the stony ground indicated that his instinct had been right and Cally had indeed made for the sheltered ledge. Kye signaled for Orantes to stay back while he quietly crept around the side of the rocky outcrop. Cally Thaykes lay asleep, curled up on the ground near the ledge overlooking the valley below. She looked vulnerable and lost. Andar-Ka was lit like a dusty circus behind her. Kye struggled for a moment as pity warred with duty. He’d brought her to Aylora to fulfill his own base ambitions. It wasn’t Hermes he’d taken her for, but himself, to be used as a pawn to consolidate his own power. To have his heirs inherit Aylora. But things had come too far and it was too late even for pity.

*** Cally screamed as she was hauled unceremoniously to her feet, her arms snatched back as she thrashed against her assailants in the dark. Her wrists were tied together behind her back and she was pressed up against someone else’s solid chest. Blinking in the night-time gloom, Cally looked up at Kye’s familiar face. “You’ve caused us nothing but trouble, woman,” Kye said softly. “Let go of me, you Kragian pig!” She aimed a kick at him.

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She was hauled back, away from Kye. A muscle moved in his jaw and his dark eyes glittered dangerously. Soundlessly, he turned away from her. Pushed forward by the guard at her back, Cally stumbled over the stony ground, forced to follow Kye. Damned if she wouldn’t find out some answers though. “Where am I?” she shouted at Kye’s retreating back. “How did you bring me here?” Kye ignored her, his back as solid and unrelenting as the rocks surrounding them. “Better keep quiet,” the guard murmured behind her. “He’s not in a very good mood.” Cally swung her head around to look at the guard. Her eyes were on a level with his dark, unhappy gaze. Long, blue-black hair was tied back from one of the handsomest faces Cally had ever seen. He seemed young. She guessed him to be around twenty, almost ten years her junior. “I don’t care!” Cally tried to wrench her hands free from her bonds. “You can’t abduct me and expect me to say nothing.” “Silence!” Kye turned to them, his eyes blazing. “Not another word from either of you.” Shock held her still, even as she felt the guard stiffen behind her. When Kye turned away again, the young guard whispered miserably, “See?” Cally felt a bubbling hysteria rising in her throat, disguised as bile. The whole situation was surreal. What was she doing on this godforsaken planet? Who were these people? And, more importantly, what did they want with her? A thunderclap rolled over the sky. Almost in the same instant a heady wind blew up a cloud of dust around them. Cally trudged on, following Kye’s silhouette in the darkness in front of her. Another thunderclap rent the darkness, and she looked up to see clouds scurrying across the black skies. Big drops of water splattered on her forehead and chin. She opened her mouth to catch the drops and soothe her parched throat.

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The guard pushed at her, and suddenly the heavens opened and water poured from the sky. Cally’s feet slipped on the rain-slick rocks and she fell to her knees. Only the guard’s firm grip on her upper arm held her from bashing her head open on the rocks. Exhausted, she refused to move as the guard tried to tug her to her feet. Her head bowed, she saw Kye’s booted feet in the muddy ground in front of her. She felt his hand clamp around her neck as he hauled her to her feet. Her vision blurred. Cally wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears running down her face as she quietly passed out.

*** When she woke it was to absolute darkness, and she savored the unexpected peace. Then memories of the previous day returned with crushing force. She struggled to sit up, finding it difficult as her hands had been re-tied in front of her. Although dripping wet, she sat in a dry cave. In the damp darkness she could hear the thunder and the howl of wind and lashing rain. A flame leapt to her left and she saw the beautiful, shadowed face of the young guard in the light of a burning match. He lit an ancient-looking oil lamp placed on the sandy floor. Lowering its glass cover, a warm glow illuminated the cave, revealing the small, open box that had been concealed in a dip in the pock-marked stone. He’d taken both the matches and lamp from inside. “You’re awake,” the guard said in his pleasant voice. “How are you feeling?” Cally was too exhausted to offer resistance. “Thirsty,” she admitted, “and hungry.” “I’m sorry there’s nothing to offer you. We weren’t prepared to be gone long --” “There’s a sorrek-kahun deeper inside.” Kye’s harsh voice came from the darkness. “We’ll go there to ride out the storm.” She looked around and saw Kye crouched low at the entrance to the cave as he stared out into the storm. A flash of lightning illuminated his harshly beautiful features. The guard brought the lamp over and squatted at her side. “Most of Aylora is riddled with mines and there’s always a box of tools and provisions in case of emergencies. It’s an unwritten law.”

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Cally stared at him as he put the lamp on the floor and held out his hand. He looked kind enough, and she placed one of her bound hands in his. He pulled her to her feet, but she stumbled and fell against him. His arms came about her to steady her, feeling almost comforting. He leaned into her, closing his eyes and taking a deep inhalation. “You smell good,” he said softly. “Like in the dream.” Cally felt her heart beating fast as he opened his eyes and looked at her. The reflection from the light glowed like pin-pricks in the center of his black eyes. “You said everything was going to be all right,” he whispered. There was something vulnerable and innocent about him that touched her heart. Even though, she suspected, he was probably a little nuts. “I -- I don’t understand what you --” Kye snatched up the lamp and raising it over their heads. He towered over them, his face half in and half out of the shadows. “If you’ve quite finished, we need to find somewhere warm before the cave-chill gets us.” They watched him disappear, lighting the way as the cave narrowed to a passage at the far end. “I’m Orantes,” the guard said, his voice subdued. He drew away from her and tugged at her tied hands, indicating that they needed to follow Kye. “Cally.” She followed him, hands outstretching as he pulled at her, hurrying as the light ahead of them dimmed. “And I’d really like to know what’s up his ass.” She heard Orantes’ sigh in the darkness. “You really don’t want to know.” Kye slowed to let them catch up. They continued in silence, following the glow of Kye’s lamp. The tunnel twisted and wound its way through the interior of the mountain. They walked for about half an hour before they felt a long, slow rumble under their feet. “What’s that?” Cally asked, halting in fear. “They’re mining down below,” Orantes said. “It’s the sound of the borers.” They continued on, the ground vibrating intermittently for another ten minutes. The passage, which had started out as a smoothly cut tunnel, was soon covered in

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rubble from the uneven, crumbling walls and ceiling, and become progressively smaller and tighter. Cally’s throat began to tighten with claustrophobia, and she had to bite back the urge to scream in panic. Suddenly the tunnel widened and they emerged into a large cave three times the size of the one they’d left. Kye set the lamp on a small wooden table leaning against the wall. There were several chairs, a couple of sleeping bunks, and what looked like a small kitchen area with a series of crates crafted into cupboards. The rumbling beneath their feet grew louder and the ground gave a sudden lurch. Losing her balance, Cally fell to the ground, rolling to her side as a curtain of sand fell from the ceiling, clogging her nose and mouth. There came a roaring sound of falling rock, followed by a cloud of dust which extinguished the lamp. When the sound had died away and the ground stilled, she heard Kye and Orantes moving in the dark. Tentatively, she rolled over and positioned herself on all fours on the ground, her heart beating fast as she heard Kye curse. “The passage has caved in,” he said. Orantes once again lit the lamp. He lifted it and turned to the entrance. A mass of rubble piling into the cave confirmed Kye’s diagnosis. Cally sat back on her heels and stared at them. “Please tell me this was supposed to happen.”

Chapter Four “Well, isn’t this cozy.” Cally’s sarcastic voice broke the silence. She sat on the edge of the bunk, shivering as the cold settled over her. Her clothes, still wet from the storm, stuck uncomfortably to her body. Kye and Orantes, exhausted from their futile effort to clear the rubble from the entrance to the passage, sat on the dirt floor with their backs to the wall. She sneezed. “We’re going to die of cold here.” She glared at Kye. “And I suppose I’ll never find out how I got here or even why I’m here.” Kye rose nimbly to his feet and went to the kitchen area at the back of the cave. He pulled out a small chest behind the crates, opened it, and drew out a couple of blankets. “Take your clothes off and dry yourself,” he said, throwing the blankets on the bunk beside her. She showed him her tied hands. “Perhaps if you removed this?” Kye hesitated for a moment then drew out a short dagger from the sheath slung at his belt and cut her bonds. She rubbed her chafed wrists. Kye sat on the other bunk and Cally leaned over to unlace her boots, drawing them off with a sigh of relief. She rose and peeled off the bulky coarse jacket, then wriggled out of the rest of her guard’s uniform, draping the wet clothes over the side of the bunk. Wearing only her underpants and the strip of cloth binding her breasts, she unwound the makeshift turban. Her blonde hair crackled as it tumbled over her shoulders. Cally heard the sound of indrawn breath and looked up. Both Kye and Orantes were staring at her. “What?” she demanded.

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Kye cleared his throat. “We haven’t seen many women,” he said gruffly. “There aren’t any women on Aylora,” Orantes corrected. His eyes were fixed to her thighs. “You’re -- different.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Cally placed her hands on her hips. Most of her life spent changing in unisex locker rooms had left her with next to no embarrassment about exposing her body. “Right?” “No. There are no women on Aylora,” Kye confirmed. He stood restlessly and began to undress. She watched as he pulled off his wet jacket and shirt, revealing his own naked torso. More than a little bit turned on by the muscles of his shoulders as he bent to loosen his own laced boots, Cally noticed that Orantes was also watching him. A little too breathlessly. She remembered Kye having sex with the man tied to the bed post. It all fell into place. “No women?” Cally couldn’t help but let out a burble of laughter. “That explains everything.” Kye paused with his hands on the fly of his trousers. “Everything?”

Cally raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Everything.”

A slow blush crept over Kye’s dark face. “You saw me?”

Cally nodded. “So who was the guy tied to the bedpost?”

Kye tensed. Orantes abruptly rose to his feet and pulled his jacket over his head.

When his head emerged, he was scowling. Tension filled the air, crackling between the two men. “That was Prince Hermes. My lover,” Kye said arrogantly. He glared at Orantes. “Apparently his too.” Orantes’ face grew heated under Kye’s contemptuous look. “It wasn’t of my choosing!” he blurted. Kye gave a grim smile. “No? When you’re challenging me in the fight as well?” Orantes drew in his breath. “Prince Hermes demanded it. I couldn’t refuse.” “I wonder how hard you tried,” Kye snarled.

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Cally looked from one to the other. The sexual tension between them was palpable. They were both standing in their underwear, both prime specimens of manhood with their firmly muscled torsos tapering to lean hips and muscular thighs. By rights she should be furious with them, but strangely she wasn’t. If anything, they seemed more vulnerable than she was. She felt an unexpected thrill of excitement unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Her nipples tightened and a surge of heat arrowed between her legs. She had to ask the obvious question “Is there something going on between you two?” “No!” they said at once, both looking equally mortified as they stared at her. Liars. It was obvious to her they wanted each other, but this Prince Hermes had somehow gotten in the way. There was only one other thing she needed to know. Deliberately, looking from one to the other as she held their gaze, she began to unwind the gauze strip binding her breasts. As the tight pressure began to loosen, her tightly bound breasts plumped up. She pulled away the last of the cloth, exposing her full, up-turned breasts with their dark, erect nipples. She was gratified to find them both staring at her breasts with open fascination, even more when she saw their cocks stiffen into unmistakable erections. She was right. There might be no women in Aylora, but there was no doubt the men were interested. Cally had always had an active sex life, but she’d never been in a situation with two men, much less men who had never been with a woman before. However tough and virile they might be, they were virgins. The thought suddenly filled her with a sense of her own power. It was time for her to take charge. She caught hold of Orantes’ hand, and then Kye’s, and placed them on each of her breasts. Orantes gasped, but Kye’s expression darkened with lust. His thumb stroked the side of her breast before scraping over her stiff nipple. She drew in her breath at the unexpected bolt of desire that sizzled to her groin. Kye might be a virgin, but he would always take charge in a situation.

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“Why are you doing this, woman?” he asked gruffly, his finger still stroking her puckered nipple. The obvious reason was because she was incredibly turned on… heat might have been a factor as well. Then all thought flew and she bit her lip to keep the sudden rush of desire as Orantes followed Kye’s lead, his fingers stroking Cally’s other breast. He stepped close to her, his body heating hers like a furnace. He angled his face to the curve of her neck and took a section of her long blonde hair, rubbing the gold between his fingers. Kye’s gaze caught and held hers. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked softly. “I don’t play games I can’t win.” Cally nodded, shivering as she felt Orantes’ hot breath on her shoulder. His fingers trailed over her abdomen and rested on the curve of her hip, caressing it gently as he stepped around her, pushing her thick hair away from her neck. His lips rested on her shoulder, his chest pressing against her back. Kye’s dark gaze mesmerized her. He stepped close and cupped both breasts, holding their weight in his hands. His thumbs stroked her nipples before rolling their stiff length between his fingers, drawing a moan from Cally at the excruciating pleasure. He bent his head and took first one and then the other nipple in his mouth, alternately suckling them and laving them with strong swirls of his tongue. Cally felt Orantes’ hands on her hips, his fingers burrowing beneath her underwear to stroke and cup the rounded flesh of her backside. Then Kye was drawing her underpants down over her hips and legs. She stepped out of them eagerly and watched as he knelt before her, his face level with her sex. He stroked her thighs and brushed his thumbs over the flesh of her rounded mons. Cally spread her legs wide, exposing herself to him. He fingered the folds of her sex, dipped into their drenched interior, scraping the tip of her clit with a calloused thumb. She arched her hips with a gasp. Behind her, Orantes drew her back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her rib cage to cup her breasts in his hands. She felt his lips nibbling up along her neck.

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“So soft,” he murmured, his tongue delicately tracing the outline of her ear. As Orantes’ fingers worked magic over her breasts, circling and gently tweaking her nipples, Kye had lifted one of her thighs and placed it over his shoulder. He’d opened her labia with his thumbs, exposing the blood-engorged center. One of his fingers carefully traced the folds, lingering over the curl of flesh that was her clit. She gasped and he experimentally rubbed it again. She arched against Kye as he buried his face between her legs, moaning softly when his tongue replaced his fingers at her nub. Her body shook while he sucked at the small engorged clit, flicking it with his swirling tongue. She came hard and fast, crying out as the orgasm jerked her body in tiny spasms. When Kye removed her trembling legs from him shoulders and rose to his feet, she fell into his arms. His mouth lowered, dark eyes burning as he took her mouth in a devouring kiss. She pressed herself against him, moaning under the electric touch of his tongue swirling inside her mouth. She noticed Orantes pressed up against her back, his erection hard between the crease of her buttocks. Sandwiched between them, a languorous heat infused her body. She needed to see the men together, caressing each other as they did her. Cally wriggled back between them, bringing the three of them into a circle. Kye and Orantes’ heads were together. They both stared at her, gazes lust-filled. She drew Kye’s head down and kissed him lightly before turning to Orantes and tracing his mouth with her tongue. His lips were full and soft, and his mouth leaped at hers hungrily. After savoring the sweetness of his kiss, she drew back and gently angled their faces toward each other. The men stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Orantes’ expression held a breathless expectancy, and Kye’s a deep lust tempered by a surprising gentleness. Their heads bent slowly, and Cally found herself holding her breath until their lips met. Their first tentative kiss deepened quickly, until their firm mouths began exploring each other’s with a leisurely and thorough slowness. When they embraced, Kye’s strong

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arms closing about Orantes as the younger man clasped his waist, Cally stepped back, her hands resting on both their backs. She watched as their erections rubbed against each other restlessly, heard Orantes’ low moan. She crouched slowly, caressing the skin of their buttocks and thighs, until her face was level with their hips. Kneeling, she took first Kye’s thick cock in one hand and Orantes’ longer, curved cock in the other. Was it Orantes or Kye who moaned when she licked first Kye’s hard length, and then Orantes’? She didn’t know, but the effect she had on them thrilled her. She stroked them both from base to tip, licking first the tip of one cock and then the other, drawing in the drops of pre-cum slickness. When their hips jerked, she took first Kye’s cock into her mouth, sucking at the round head, tongue swirling, and then moving to suck on Orantes’. She pressed the heads of their cocks together, rubbing their heated flesh, as her tongue laved at them. Gently, she slipped the thick bulbs of both heads into her mouth, stretching her lips wide to accommodate them. Orantes and Kye grew silent, and she saw their mouths locked together, feeding from each other hungrily. Stroking both shafts with smooth, fluid moves, she sucked at them until Orantes’ jerked against her. He gave a low cry at the hot rush of his orgasm. A split second later, Kye gave a low moan and his semen shot into her mouth. Cally swallowed their mingled cum, licking the last drops from the sensitive slits of their languid cocks. They withdrew themselves when she rose to her feet, wiping the milky liquid from her lips. All three of them gazed at each other, breathing raggedly. Tangible lust sparked through the cave.

*** Time seemed to have lost meaning -- all that mattered in the world were these two men and satisfying the burning heat the three seemed to be generating together. Kye spread out the blankets on the floor and all three of them lay entangled, stroking and caressing each other. At their queries on the female anatomy, Cally spread her legs and described how the female genitals worked, her fingers tracing the slick

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folds, indicating the points of most pleasure. Both Kye and Orantes took to the teaching with eagerness, and soon Orantes’ face was between her legs, laving her with enthusiasm. Cally leaned back and braced herself with her arms, watching as Kye stroked Orantes’ body. Then he stood and went to the kitchen area. He found a small bottle of oil and spilled some over his hands. He returned, lubricating his cock and fingers in a gesture that she remembered from seeing him with Hermes. Her vulva clenched involuntarily at the rush of desire. Orantes groaned beneath her. Kye put the bottle beside them, then positioned himself behind Orantes. His fingers gently worked on Orantes’ anus. The young man between her legs arched his bottom up eagerly to press against his hand. Kye spread his cheeks expertly, holding the tip of his cock steady as he probed Orantes’ entrance to loosen him. When he penetrated Orantes, Cally felt herself shaking with an unexpected orgasm. Orantes groaned, his face resting against her thigh as Kye slid inside him. She stroked his hair soothingly, watching Kye’s intent expression as he moved inside Orantes with smooth steady strokes. She enjoyed the way his strong, beautiful face turned to ecstasy when he came, his hips pistoning wildly. Exhausted, Kye dropped himself over Orantes, kissing the side of his neck, before sprawling to the ground beside him. But Cally hadn’t had anywhere near enough. As Orantes lay on his back beside Kye, she climbed on top on him, positioning his beautifully smooth cock between the folds of her sex. Orantes moaned, arching against her to rub the tip of his cock over her clit. Then she had his cock tight against the entrance to her vagina. She bit her lip as she impaled herself upon it. Orantes lay back, eyes closed, his face a study in beatific pleasure as Cally rode him. He filled her, yet it wasn’t enough. She felt voracious, and stared at Kye. He watched them with unbridled curiosity. He met her gaze and understood what she needed.

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Kye again took the small bottle of oil and lubricated his cock. Turning back to Cally and Orantes, he saw Cally’s hips moving in eager thrusts over Orantes, taking him in deep while Orantes massaged her breasts. Cally felt Kye behind her, his hot hands splayed across her bare back. She stilled as he pushed her forward over Orantes, and her heart beat faster as she realized he meant to fulfill her fantasy. Kye’s thighs brushed against the back of her legs. She looked down at Orantes, saw his dark eyes gentle and giving, and she suddenly felt a deep affection for him. He smiled and drew her head down. Their lips met, and Orantes explored her mouth with a leisurely thoroughness that warmed her. Kye stroked her back and waist in slow, soothing caresses. Orantes’ shaft was still buried inside her. She moaned as Kye stroked around the edge of her anus before gently probing inside. He push in one greased finger, and then another. Orantes moved slowly inside her, holding her face still in both hands as his mobile lips explored with light butterfly kisses. She held her breath as Kye gently angled her hips back against his. She felt the hard soft-skinned tip of his cock against her back passage, then he pushed himself slowly inside her. She cried out as pain-pleasure shuddered through her body. “Sssshhh,” Orantes whispered against her mouth. “It’s all right. Just relax.” She sighed, releasing her tensed muscles as Kye pushed himself inch by inch inside her until she was stretched, front and back, a fleshy bridge between the two men. Then the pleasure became almost too much as both men began to move, filling her, the tips of their cocks almost rubbing together through the thin membrane of flesh that separated them from each other. When she came it was in what she could only describe as a cascading waterfall of pleasure. Her muscles clenched and spasmed over Kye’s cock behind her and Orantes’ in front. She sobbed at the pleasure searing her body, juddering at the sensation shooting through every jangling nerve.

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Orantes caught her lip in his teeth, moaning as he thrust his shaft deep inside her. At the same time, Kye groaned and buried himself to the balls behind her. Suddenly she was filled with hot wet liquid from either end. When their aching bodies and jagged breathing had settled, Kye removed himself from her. She eased herself off Orantes and fell into an exhausted heap at his side. Kye lay next to her, gently drawing her to face him. She settled her head on his shoulder, feeling as though its curve had been designed to hold her. Orantes turned and spooned her from behind. She’d never felt so safe, Cally thought dreamily, or so wonderfully, totally satisfied. And with that acknowledgement, she drifted off to sleep.

*** Cally woke to the ground shaking. Her eyes flew open with the low rumble of sound echoing in the pit of her stomach. Kye stared down at her, his face shadowed in the dim flickering of the lamp. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been awake or how long he’d spent watching her, but from the still expression on his face it may have been some time. While Orantes wore his feelings like a shiny badge with every look and gesture, Kye held his close and gave nothing away. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She only knew that whenever she looked at him something deep and dark passed between them, a feeling of understanding, and an abiding sense that their destinies were inextricably linked. Orantes’ back pressed against hers. The boy had turned over away from her -from them -- in his sleep. Kye held her tightly in his embrace. She’d slept in his arms, her face pressed against his chest. The scent of spicy masculinity had filled her nostrils and filtered into her dreams. Her heart began to beat strongly as their gazes locked together. Desire quivered and tingled between her legs. “Kye,” she whispered. She touched the scar on his eyebrow before stroking the side of his cheek and sweeping down to trace the outline of his firm, luscious mouth.

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His expression, hawkish and daunting, softened. His tongue met her questing fingers, licking at the tips as they pushed partway into his mouth. His hips pressed close to hers, branding her with the heat of his thick erection. Slowly, his big hands caressed the length of her body, lingering over the small of her back, her hips, before cupping her ass. Meanwhile, his tongue made a languorous and thorough exploration of her mouth that had every nerve-end singing with pleasure. His hand slipped between them, dipping into the wetness between her legs, finding and gently caressing her tender clit. She shivered against him, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. This wasn’t play anymore, she thought. This had become something much more. He leaned over her, pushing her back against the blanket, and his muscled body covered hers. She lay back, accepting his caresses passively, her arms loose at her side. Her body trembled beneath his. “Cally,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid of me.” He held her face in his hands, the liquid pool of his dark gaze meeting hers. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t ever hurt you.” The sound of his voice broke the last barrier to her internal resistance. When his lips met hers, she gave a long shuddering sigh of surrender. He slipped his hand between her legs and it felt as though he had come home. They moved quietly together, murmuring and caressing. Cally wrapped her legs around his waist, accepting him deep inside her. They stared at each other as Kye thrust slowly, deeply into her, their gazes locked as their bodies rose to that perfect pitch of pleasure, moving in perfect rhythm until they crested and fell together over the edge of the world. She clung to him, shuddering as she came. He held her cradled tightly against him. She wasn’t sure if the earth had really shaken beneath her, or if it was simply the rumbling of the borers somewhere very, very close.

Chapter Five Kye sat on the bunk, fully dressed, waiting. He could hear the slow rumble of a handheld borer on the other side of the rubble obstructing the cave entrance. The faint echo of a rock scraping against rock told him that they would soon be freed. Cally and Orantes lay asleep on the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms. Their bodies, pale against blue, fit as if made for one another. He felt a strong sense of possessiveness as he stared down at them. They were his. His mates. What had happened between them had been more than just sex. He’d been with Hermes long enough to know when it was just sex. Never once had he felt with Hermes the burst of emotion, the feeling of trust, he’d felt with Cally and Orantes. But soon the entrance would be clear, Hermes’ guards would come in, and he’d have to assume his old position as Hermes’ lover, his soon-to-be-official consort. He’d worked too hard, denied himself too much, to give up everything. No, he could only think of this time with Cally and Orantes as a passing interlude. It couldn’t be anything else. Hermes would never permit it. A rush of small stones and a chink of light indicated the entrance would soon be unblocked. Kye smoothed out his uniform and rose to his feet. He leaned over Orantes and shook him hard. Orantes opened his eyes sleepily, rolled over to look up at him. He smiled, his body inviting, completely trusting. Kye hardened his resolve. Duty called. “On your feet, soldier!” he barked. A look of bewilderment crossed Orantes’ face, his eyes wide as he stared at Kye like a whipped dog. Kye’s lips thinned, and he prodded him hard in the hip with the tip of his boot. “Get dressed, captain. Your duties await.”

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Orantes scrambled to his feet. Cally, who’d woken at Kye’s first command, sat up and watched him warily. Kye picked up her clothes and threw them at her. She caught them with a gasp, bunching them in her arms while she stared up at him. “Dress yourself, woman,” Kye said coldly. He turned his back to them as they dressed, taking the blankets from the floor and folding them neatly. The mingled scent of their bodies, their sex, filled his nostrils. He stifled the urge to breathe deep into the rough wool and ingrain the scent in his memory forever. The rubble at the entrance moved, and a large section of rock rolled back into the tunnel. The sound of voices came clearly from the other side. Orantes and Cally dressed quickly. When they had laced up their boots, Kye took the length of rope folded at his belt and threw it at Orantes. “Tie her hands,” he commanded. Orantes stared at him, then at Cally. Cally looked straight ahead, her expression shuttered. When he turned back to Kye, he was full of contempt. Deliberately, he dropped the rope to the floor. Kye felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He stepped close to Orantes, his eyes glittering darkly. “Pick that up, soldier,” he said softly, “or I’ll have you whipped for insubordination.” Mutiny and pride warred over Orantes’ face. When he took a step in Kye’s direction, his eyes flashing in fury, Cally bent to take the rope from the floor. She thrust it into Orantes’ hands. Orantes stared at her in surprise. Her face cold, she held out her arms, wrists pinned together. Hesitantly, he tied them with a secure knot. The look that passed between them held both anger and distress. Kye’s muscle twitched a little harder in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. What was done was done. It was over. The entrance cleared with a rush of falling rubble, and a miner clambered partway inside, holding up a tungsten lamp to illuminate the cave. He saw Kye standing

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tall, hands clasped behind his back. Orantes stood beside Cally, her hands tied, holding her upper arm. “You all right?” their rescuer shouted over the sound of machinery and rockclearing crew behind him. No, Kye thought. Nothing will ever be right again.

*** Hermes sat on his chair on the raised dais in the main hall of the Keep. The stone-carved chair, covered in glossy black mink, was the closest thing to a throne on Aylora. Kye, Orantes and Cally stood before him. Their clothes were dirty and mudspattered, their faces grim and pale. “You’ve had quite the ordeal.” Hermes looked at each of them carefully. His gaze lingered over Cally curiously, resting on the long fall of flaxen hair. “Strange hair. She doesn’t seem like much, does she?” “Nor do you.” Cally’s voice was soft, but clearly heard in the large room filled with soldiers and servants. Someone snickered, muffling it into a cough. Hermes’ face tightened. “Take her to her room and clean her up,” he snapped at Orantes. “I’ll be up to see her soon. I think she and I need to have a little talk.” When Orantes had taken her away, Hermes left the hall and strode to his study, beckoning for Kye, who followed wearily. After Hermes had seated himself behind his desk, Kye threw himself into a chair and laid his head back. He closed his eyes and immediately thought of Cally and Orantes. He couldn’t seem to think of anything else. “What happened in that cave, Kye?” Hermes demanded. “You were gone for a long time.” Kye shrugged tiredly. “Nothing, my Lord.” Hermes took the carved letter-opener and fondled it in his hands. “You seem very subdued.” He looked at Kye, smiled coyly. “Did you and my captain… talk?”

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Kye opened his eyes and tried to mask his contempt at Hermes’ transparency. “No. He did his duty, nothing more. What could we possibly have in common to talk about?” Hermes cleared his throat. “Quite.” He looked Kye over. “You look filthy. Perhaps you should bathe and rest.” Kye nodded and rose to his feet. “After I see to the woman, I’ll come to your room,” Hermes said idly. “I missed you and your… ministrations.” He gave Kye a lascivious smile. Kye felt his stomach clench. How could he have ever desired this man? “Perhaps I should go with you when you see the woman.” He didn’t like the thought of Hermes alone with Cally, and not just because of what Cally might say. He had no way of knowing what Hermes might do. He seemed in a strange, suspicious mood. “There’s no need. I’m eager to inspect her.” Hermes’ gaze sharpened at Kye’s almost imperceptible flinch. His lips tightened. “Tell me, Kye. What truly happened in the cave?” “I explained what happened,” Kye said, averting his gaze. “We sought shelter from the rain in the sorrek-kahun --” Hermes waved the letter opener impatiently, and Kye fell silent. “I see you don’t wish to discuss it.” “There’s nothing to tell.” Kye shrugged. “I don’t understand what you want to know.” Hermes dropped the letter opener and watched it skid across his desk. “So you’ve decided to be difficult. Fine. We’ll talk about it after you’ve rested.” Kye didn’t know whether it was more prudent of him to argue now and try to persuade him to forget the idea, or wait until later. His bone-weariness decided for him. He nodded at Hermes and left the study. Leaving Hermes sitting deep in thought.

***

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Tired and disoriented, Orantes sat on the stone bench in the shower room in the barracks and removed his boots. Fencing the curious questions from his fellow guards on his ordeal had left him exhausted. They were curious about Cally, and their questions had been followed by the inevitable lewd remarks on what they’d have done to her if trapped. Orantes had held on to his temper by a thread. He undressed, stretching his cramped muscles, and thought about when he’d taken Cally to the room that had been prepared for her next to Hermes’ chamber. Servants had bustled about them, clucking at their dirtiness before hurrying off to prepare a bath for her. They had been left alone. Cally was stiff with fury as he began to untie her bound hands. “Don’t leave me here,” she hissed at him. “Help me escape.” He thought of Kye’s command that he do his duty. He was doing what he was supposed to do, but why did it seem just plain wrong? He liked this woman. More than liked. He felt for her what he’d felt for Kye. What he still felt for Kye, but could never have again. “I can’t,” Orantes said miserably, drawing away the rope and watching as she flexed her hands. “Hermes would have my head on a platter.” “Fuck Hermes!” Cally put her hands on his shoulders and stared at him. “Are you going to forget what happened between us? You, me and Kye?” Orantes felt the heat of her and wanted to bury his face in her throat, taste her skin again beneath his lips. He caught her by the waist, stepped closer -Servants bustled back into the room. He stepped away awkwardly and her hands fell to her side. “Bye, Cally,” he’d said softly and left her. He shook his head. He couldn’t get Cally’s last pleading look out of his mind. He felt as though he’d betrayed her. Just as Kye had betrayed them. Kye. One moment an ardent lover and the next Hermes’ cold consort-in-waiting. It hadn’t meant anything to him. And perhaps it shouldn’t mean anything. Perhaps he should just take it for what it was -- a sexual interlude, a fantasy fulfilled.

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But why did his heart ache so? Why did the world seem suddenly meaningless and drab without Kye and Cally? He removed the last of his clothing and stepped onto the stone plate to turn on the shower switch. The cold water jetted from the scored tube curving from the wall, and he stepped back to wait for the water the heat. Without warning, someone touched his shoulder, caressed the splayed muscles of his back, swept down to clasp about his waist. “Kye!” Hope leapt inside him. Joyfully, he turned. Hermes’ smile faded, replaced by a look of cold fury. His hands dropped to his sides, clenching. And then a tight smiled crossed his handsome face. “Kye? You expected Kye?” Orantes’ tried to still his horror at his mistake. “My Lord,” he stammered. “Of course not. I didn’t mean -- I mean, his name came to me -- that is, I’ve been saying his name for the last few days and it just came out --” Hermes’ familiar lascivious smile returned. “Of course,” he said soothingly. His fingers traced along Orantes’ chest, lowered over his abdomen toward his groin. “It’s only natural… since you’ve been saying his name for the last two days.” “As my commander only, my Lord,” Orantes assured him, flushing. “Only?” Hermes touched the base of his cock, teasing out the flare of dark blue hair. “Kye didn’t… try anything, did he?” “No, my Lord,” Orantes said, averting his gaze. Hermes’ took Orantes’ cock in his hand and squeezed. “And the woman?” Orantes’ cock jumped in his hand. “The woman?” “Did you have the woman, Orantes?” Hermes’ voice was dangerously soft. “Did Kye have the woman?” “N-n-n-o, my Lord,” Orantes stuttered. He felt his shaft deflate in Hermes’ grasp. “You dreamed of me, Orantes? You touched yourself thinking of me, as I commanded you do before you sleep?” Hermes insidious voice felt like worms crawling down his spine.

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“Of course, my Lord,” he lied. He clenched his teeth as Hermes stroked his cock again and again. When it remained unresponsive, Hermes crouched down and licked the tip, his tongue swirling about the head. Orantes’ cock remained flaccid. “Are you tired, my love?” Hermes asked icily, gripping the base of his cock hard. “Too tired even for your lord and master?” “No, my Lord.” Orantes closed his eyes. Hermes might be promiscuous but he was jealous as hell. And he was especially jealous of Kye. He must never suspect what had happened in the cave. Orantes had to produce an erection for Hermes to show nothing had changed. He breathed deep and thought of Kye and Cally in the cave. Kye’s lips devouring his own, Cally taking them both into her mouth, their cocks rubbing against each other in her wet warmth as she sucked and her tongue swirled and probed… “Ah,” Hermes said triumphantly. Orantes kept his eyes closed, kept the images turning in his head as he felt Hermes’ lips close over the head of his cock. And then the lips were gone. “Is that a bite mark?” Hermes asked tightly. Orantes eyes flew open. He stared down at the length of his cock in Hermes’ hand. There were three small indents in the soft skin of his shaft, just below the head. Teeth marks. Cally must have made them… or Kye… Hermes rose to his feet, his face contorted in fury. For a moment Orantes was sure he was going to slap him. Instead, he stalked to the bench and took up his trousers. Deliberately, keeping his gaze on him, Hermes brought the groin of Orantes’ trousers to his nose and sniffed deeply, his nostrils flaring. Hermes dropped the trousers. His hands clenched, and turned on his heel and strode out. Orantes shivered with fear as the steam from hot water sprayed around his ankles. There was no doubt in his mind that Hermes would think of some way to

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express his revenge. From what he had experienced in the past, that usually meant hurting someone very badly.

Chapter Six Cally let the servant slide the nightgown over her head. The soft cotton smelled slightly musty, as though it had been stored away for a long time. It was a woman’s nightgown -- a small woman, for it came only to her knees and she was sure it was meant to be full-length. She wondered how long it had been since the last woman had worn it. And what had happened to her? What had happened to the women of Aylora? A servant pushed her over to the chair by the bed, brandishing a hairbrush. She sat down, wincing as he began to roughly detangle her towel-dried hair. When the last knot had been cleared, the servant -- a drab sexless man wearing brown, his grey hair tied back over a soft neck -- began to stroke the brush through her hair until it sizzled with static. Suddenly the door to her room was flung open and Hermes stood in the doorway. The servant immediately bowed and glided back into the shadows. Cally’s eyes narrowed as she inspected Hermes. She hadn’t thought much of the man when she’d seen him in the great hall. Objectively, she acknowledged that he was handsome. His light blue hair fell to his shoulders, and he wore suede trousers and boots and a flowing silk shirt that should have made him look like a romantic hero from the olden days. But his eyes were small and close, his chin weak, and there was a petulant curl to his lip. She guessed she would be dealing with a spoiled, mean little boy. “My dear,” Hermes said, his fake smile lighting up the room. He flicked his finger impatiently at the servant, who drifted out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Forgive me for not greeting you before you… er… left us. It’s been a dismal introduction to my little planet.”

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My little planet? He owned it, did he? Her eyes narrowed. He was nothing more than a presumptuous little dictator. When she said nothing, Hermes’ smile grew brighter. She’d seen people bow and scrape around him, but she refused to budge from the chair. He walked over to her, circled around her, carefully keeping his distance. “You have no idea how I’ve longed to see you. I’m afraid I lost my temper before,” he said, still smiling, “and I apologize. I was so worried for all of you.” She didn’t believe a word of it. She stared at the door, ignoring him. He stood behind her. She felt him touch her hair, lifting a section. Felt him rubbing the bright strands between his fingers. “So beautiful. Kye has good taste. I asked him to bring me the best woman he could find and I believe he was successful.” “You asked him to bring me here?” Cally asked sharply. Hermes walked around to stand in front of her. He smiled. “Kye did his duty. I needed a woman. He brought me you.” Cally’s gaze swept over him with undisguised contempt. “You need a woman?” This was no Kye or Orantes. She was sure this fop would consider a woman his rival. Hermes paused. His teeth looked sharp as his smile thinned. “For breeding purposes, my dear.” He bent over and whispered in her ear. “You’ll be mother of my heir one day.” Cally stared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She burst into laughter. The smile vanished from his face, leaving it cold and hard. “Not at all. I choose my consort tomorrow, and you will be our breeder.” She glared at him. “I’d rather kill myself than have you touch me!” “My dear, when you have served your purpose you can do whatever you like to yourself,” he said distastefully. “I perform a duty. There will be no pleasure involved.” Duty. There was altogether too much duty on Aylora. “However,” he continued smoothly. “I will need to assure myself that the child is mine.”

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She stiffened, wondering what he was leading up to. She’d had unprotected sex with both Kye and Orantes. If she’d fallen pregnant, either one of them could be the father. He stood behind her again. She felt his fingers on her shoulder, pushing aside the wide-necked nightdress. She flinched and jumped away from him. And found her hair caught firmly in his grasp. She gasped at the pain shooting through her scalp as he jerked her back onto the chair. His free hand yanked the edge of the gown over her left shoulder, then grasped her throat. “These marks here,” he said softly into her ear as his fingers dug into her collar bone, “who gave them to you?” She’d seen the marks in the mirror in the bathroom. A faint, spreading bruising over the side of her neck. Love bites. “Bite me,” she snarled. She swung around, her clenched fist aimed at his chin. He was one step ahead of her and, using her momentum, swung her around by the hair. The chair skittered across the floor, overturning as she lost her balance and fell to her knees. Hermes wrapped her hair around her throat and pulled tight, choking her. Gasping for air, she grabbed his balls, but her grasp slid over the soft suede of his trousers. She saw his fist raised, felt it connecting with the side of her head, and darkness rushed up to meet her.

*** Kye lay stretched out on his bed and had almost fallen asleep when he heard Hermes enter his room. He opened his eyes and saw Hermes standing by his bed, eyes glittering. There was a feverish look to him that made Kye uneasy. “Come with me,” Hermes said lightly. He held out his hand. “I’ve been speaking to the woman, but she’s shown nothing but insolence. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her.” Kye frowned. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and padded barefoot after Hermes. He wore his bedclothes -- lightweight trousers and a large open shirt -and the chill in the corridor matched the rising chill inside him.

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Two guards were posted outside the room where Cally was being held. He went inside, and Hermes closed the door firmly behind them. Cally swung, unconscious, from the middle of the room. Her hands were tied by a long length of rope that had been looped over a lamp hook in the ceiling. Her arms had been pulled up high above her head so only the balls of her feet rested on the floor. Her nightdress had been torn from her back, split in two as only a few days ago he had ripped Hermes’ shirt from his back. “What have you done?” he demanded. He ran to her side and lifted her head. Her eyes were closed, and there was a large lump on the side of her head. Bruises the shape of Hermes’ long fingers had formed along her collarbone. “I thought we might play,” Hermes purred. “I know this is your favorite game. We need to test the merchandise. I want to be sure it’s to our liking.” Kye glowered at him. “She’s hurt. It isn’t a game if she’s hurt.” “Pain is the name of the game,” Hermes said. “And you play it so well.” He turned to the small table beside him and picked up the leather whip lying there. “Why are you doing this?” Kye demanded. “There’s no need to use her like this -” “Your concern is touching,” Hermes snarled. He unraveled the leather strap of the whip and flicked it with a twist of his wrist, the sound of its crack filling the room. Kye cradled Cally’s head against his shoulder, patting her cheek lightly to wake her, as Hermes paced around them with a vicious smile of amusement. Cally stirred, groaning. Kye felt relief as she opened her bruised eyes and squinted up at him. “Kye,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Kye.” She swallowed. “I asked Orantes what happened in the cave,” Hermes said, prodding Cally’s bare buttocks with the staff of the whip. When Kye looked at him sharply, Hermes grinned. “He denied everything. His cock told me another story, as did the smell of his trousers. He’s a very bad liar. I’ll have to punish him later.” Kye’s jaw clenched, but he continued smoothing back Cally’s hair. She stared at him and then at Hermes, fear shadowing her eyes.

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“Leave her,” Hermes said sharply. “She’ll live.” Kye stepped back, turning away from Hermes to regain his composure. Hermes was right. This was no time to show his emotions, which would be an unforgivable weakness in Hermes’ eyes. He needed to play on Hermes’ desires, turn the viciousness to his advantage, so he was master of the game. Kye forcing a smile to his mouth. “You’re right, she’ll live.” Hermes smiled. “Good. Ready to play?” Kye nodded. He reached for the whip, but Hermes danced away lightly, stopping behind Cally. “No, not yet. I’ll go first.” Kye stifled an urge to slap him. Instead, he forced his lips to twist into a smile and nodded. Hermes stepped back and angled the whip, flicking the long ends. He looked at Kye, smiled, then brought the whip down on Cally’s back. Cally cried out, her body jerking, her eyes wide with shock. Hermes whipped her three more times. Kye felt sweat beading his forehead. Cally’s look of horror and pain cut to his very soul. Forcing a nonchalant smile, he strolled beside Hermes, controlling the urge to rip the whip from his hands. His face paled as he saw the raised red welts marking her smooth back. When Hermes raised the whip again, Kye’s hand shot out and grasped his wrist. At Hermes’ blazing look of triumph, Kye smiled. “Let me finish it. You’re not experienced on how not to leave a mark.” Hermes stared at him as if considering it. Then he smiled and handed over the whip. Kye wanted to wrap it around Hermes’ neck, but he knew the guards at the door would be inside the room before he had a chance. More than anything, he wanted to spare Cally pain. He raised the whip and flicked it lightly across her buttocks. She jerked at the sting, but he left no mark and knew it hadn’t hurt her. He brought the leather strap lightly across her buttocks again, and again. She moaned in pain, moving restlessly. She tried to stand on her toes, then slumped weakly.

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Kye glanced at Hermes and saw his face sweating with excitement, his breathing shallow. His erection bulged hard against the fly of his trousers. It was the moment he’d been waiting for. “You wish it was you tied up, don’t you, Hermes?” he asked softly, his tone just the right measure of sensual command. “Just you and me. You want that, don’t you?” Hermes stared at him. He swallowed and said harshly, “You had her? Tell me the truth.” So Hermes’ curiosity was finally getting the better of him. He bared his teeth in a grin and nodded. “I had her. Orantes too. We had her together.” “I knew it.” Hermes fairly quivered. He swallowed. “What was it like? What was she like?” He paused and whispered, “Where did you put it?” Kye smiled. He folded the length of the whip in his hand and walked to Cally, standing before her. She stared at him, pleading. He stared back, hoping she understood, silently asking for forgiveness for what he was about to do. He tore the nightgown from her body, leaving her naked. Hermes followed him around and gaped at her breasts. Kye ran the folded whip lightly down her body, stroking it leisurely between her breasts, over her flat tummy, over her pubic hair to the crease dividing her mons. “Here,” he said. He slipped the leather between her legs, parting the folds. Cally gasped. Her eyes glazed, and he realized she was sexually aroused. The tip of the leather came away glistening with her juice. He felt his cock stiffen in response, his heart beating fast. “Show me what you did to her,” Hermes whispered. Cally licked her lips as Kye slid the whip handle between her folds again, forcing pressure over her clit. Her legs clenched around it, body jerking. She was still afraid, despite her body’s response. He came close to her, caressed her breast, a thumb scraping over her soft nipples. They stiffened immediately beneath his touch. He leaned forward and laved each of her nipples with his tongue, swirling around them until they

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stood hard and erect. At the same time, he moved the whip handle gently between her legs. She arched her back, moaning, her legs falling open at the continued pressure. From the corner of his eye he saw Hermes watching them. He’d undone his fly and exposed his cock. He fondled it as he watched avidly. The sight sickened Kye. Bile rose in his throat. He didn’t want to degrade Cally this way, forcing her to respond to him against her will. This game, should they ever be free to have it, would be for their eyes only -- and Orantes’. “We need to let her down,” Kye said as he stroked Cally’s breast possessively, his gaze on Hermes. “I can’t fuck her while she’s hanging.” Hermes gave a brief nod, completely engrossed in watching Kye as he went to the bedpost and undid the knot holding the rope taut through the loop in the ceiling. He lowered the rope until Cally found steady footing on the floor, releasing more rope until she was able to lower her arms. She swayed, trying to catch her balance. Kye let go of the rope and held her close, guiding her to the bed. She sat on the edge while he removed the loop of rope used to hang her to the ceiling. Kye felt Hermes move up behind him. He stared at Cally. Her eyes pleaded with him, warring between rage, impotence and fear. Kye stood still as Hermes touched his back, then slipped beneath his trousers to cup his buttocks. He had done this hundreds of times before, but this time it felt invasive. Rage boiled over. With a growl, he swung around and punched Hermes in the jaw. Hermes crumpled and fell back on the floor. He stared up at Kye in horror. Blood dripped from the edge of his mouth. “You sorry excuse for a prince,” Kye said in disgust as he advanced on him. “Guards!” Hermes shouted, scrambling away from him over the floor. “Guards!” Kye had his hands fisted in Hermes’ shirt, half lifting him off the floor, when the guards came storming in. They pulled him away from Hermes and threw him back. He hit his head hard against the wooden edge of the bed.

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Dazed, Kye heard Cally screaming, heard Hermes shouting. The room spun, and he was dragged up between the two guards and taken away.

Chapter Seven Cally spent the night locked in her room. The servant had returned and spread an unguent over her back, clucked over her and put her to bed. Rage burned inside her at Hermes, mingled with fear at what he might do to Kye and Orantes. That fear had been tempered by relief -- Kye had defended her, had cared enough to turn against Hermes in her defense. He’d been willing to brave Hermes’ vengeance for her. God only knew what Hermes would do to him -- or Orantes. Fretting, she’d fallen into a deep sleep of exhaustion. The servant woke her bright and early the next morning. He carried an armful of gowns -- light, silky dresses which he draped across the foot of the bed. “What are they for?” she asked, sitting up in bed. “The Games, my lady,” the servant said. “My Lord Hermes wishes you to be ready in an hour. You will be attending him at the Games.” The Games. Cally recalled that Kye and Orantes were to have fought for Hermes’ hand. She was surprised the games were going ahead, considering all that had happened. She slid out of bed to look at the dresses. They were almost new. “Where did you get them?” she asked the servant. “I thought there were no women here.” “They belonged to my Lord Hermes’ mother,” the servant said, fussing around her with the hairbrush again. Cally turned to the servant, raising her hand to stop him as he frowned and brandished the hairbrush. “What is your name?” she asked. “Ulores,” he said, looking surprised that anyone had bothered to ask. “Ulores, tell me what happened to Hermes’ mother. Where are the women?”

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Ulores’ wrinkled faced turned sad. “The plague took them all away. A long time ago now, just after my Lord Hermes was born.” “Why the women and not the men?” Ulores shrugged. “It took men too, but there were not as many women and the numbers favored the men.” He bustled around her and chose a shimmering red gown, holding it up. “I thought this would suit you, my lady. It is very fine.” Cally ignored it. “Why weren’t more women brought here?” Ulores hesitated, draping the dress over his arm. “My Lord Hermes said they weren’t necessary. He said it was too hard for the women in Aylora. He said we had gotten along without them just fine and they were unnecessary.” Cally frowned. “What about the other men? Don’t they miss them?” Ulores hesitated. His gaze went furtively to the door. When he was satisfied they couldn’t be overheard, he leaned in closer. “Yes, my Lady,” he whispered almost guiltily. “There were many men entered in the Games. I heard many of them say it was not Hermes they wanted, but the woman he would bring.” He gave a wry grin. “You, my lady.” Cally couldn’t contain her surprise. “They’re fighting for me?” Ulores nodded. “They made sure my Lord Hermes enforced the law that said he needed an heir to inherit his title. It was the only way they could make him bring a woman to Aylora.” A footstep sounded at the door, and Ulores’ face shuttered. A guard brought in a tray of food. When he’d left, Ulores refused to answer any more questions and fussed around her with the hairbrush. Cally’s mind raced. So the men of Aylora had forced Hermes’ hand in bringing a woman here. Obviously, the idea had been against Hermes’ desire, but he’d complied to keep his position intact. But they fought to bed her, not Hermes. She prayed Kye and Orantes were still taking part in the Games.

***

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Kye woke to a bucket of cold water thrown over him. He gasped, shaking his wet hair from his face. A prison guard stood in the doorway to his cell. They’d thrown him here last night, and the prison guards had given him a thorough beating at Hermes’ instructions. His ribs ached where they’d kicked him. His head throbbed as though a thousand borers had turned on at once. One eye had swelled up so much he could barely see. “Get up!” the prison guard snarled. “Today you play in the Games.” Kye stumbled to his feet, hindered by the shackles on his wrists and ankles. “I’m to fight in the Games?” he asked, his voice barely a croak. The prison guard sneered. “You and Orantes,” he spat. Why would Hermes still want me to fight? Kye wondered as he was led outside. Hermes couldn’t still want Kye to fight for his hand after what had happened the night before. The bright light of day hurt his eyes as he emerged into the Keep’s courtyard. Two small armored cars waited, one behind the other. He was forced into the backseat of the first one, and laid back against the rough leather while the driver gunned the engine. He stared out of the barred window. The men who had served under him lined the walls of the courtyard, watching soberly. The door to the prison opened, and another shackled figure stood blinking in the light. Orantes. New bruises had formed over the old, revealing he’d received a similar treatment as Kye. Kye caught Orantes’ eye as he was led to the second car. Orantes started in surprise and moved toward him. The prison guard swiped at his head, knocking him sideways, and he stumbled away. Fury rose within him. What game was Hermes going to play with them?

*** As a Shri-La champion Cally had grown accustomed to a lot of attention, but even she was unnerved by the silence that greeted her as she took her seat in the box overlooking the arena. Thousands of men sat row upon row, their eyes fixed on her. She

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had a feeling they were all holding their breath. It would have been different if she’d been wearing her combat clothes, but she felt vulnerable and exposed in the low-cut red silk gown. She’d been forced into a corset, and her breasts had risen unnaturally close to her neck, giving her an exaggerated cleavage that almost made her breasts pop out of the dress. Taking a breath to steady her nerves, Cally forced herself to check out the arena. It was small compared to Terran standards, the hard-packed ground covered in the blue-powder dust so common to Aylora. The combat matting would not be used here, she gathered. She wasn’t sure if they were even playing by Shri-La rules. Cheers suddenly broke out from the spectators. There was a whirl of motion behind her and Hermes appeared, pausing dramatically at the entrance to the box before taking the large, fur-covered seat beside her. Resplendent in an ornately embroidered black jacket, Hermes’ carefully coifed light blue curls fell over his shoulders, framing his haughty beauty. He’d be a beautiful man, Cally thought critically, if it wasn’t for the coldness of his eyes and the weakness of his mouth. He completely ignored her. As the cheers lessened, Hermes rose to his feet. “Today I bring you a new twist to an old game,” he shouted, his voice booming out over the arena. “Something we have not had in Aylora in two hundred years.” Hermes grinned at the spattering of applause. “Two traitors were discovered yesterday, and as we know treason comes with a death sentence. Tonight, my friends…” He paused, grinning. “Tonight, I bring you a fight to the death.” There was a moment of silence, and then cheers erupted in the arena. Hermes smiled, pleased with the reception to his news. He turned to Cally and stared at her coldly. “One of your lovers will die today,” he said softly. “I wonder who it will be.” Cally couldn’t keep the horror from her expression. Even more so as the door on either end of the arena swung open and two men were marched out into the middle by a number of guards. Kye and Orantes.

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Both were bare-chested and wore only their trousers and boots. Kye’s face was bloodied, one eye almost closed shut, with bruises along the side of his strong torso. Orantes face looked a little less battered, but the bruising was more severe along his ribs. The crowd cheered, stamping their feet as the guards handed each of the men a long, thin stiletto and retreated, leaving them facing each other in the middle of the arena. Cally clenched her hands and glared at Hermes. “They won’t fight.” Hermes smiled. “Won’t they?” He stood again, raising his hand to still the cheering. As the crowd quieted, his voice rang out again, “The terms are the following: this will be a fight to the death. The winner will become consort of Aylora.” He paused. “If they refuse to fight, the woman will be forfeit and will lose her life in their stead.” The crowd gasped. Transfixed by shock, Cally stared at him. Hermes smiled. “I think they’ll fight now.”

Kye turned to Orantes in the arena. Oblivious to the crowd, he stared at his onetime lover with sadness. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head once. Orantes nodded. “I love her,” he said, “as I love you.” Kye looked up at him quickly. “You love me?” “It was always you, Kye.” His eyes filled with sorrow. “Always. I’m happy we had our time together, and that we shared it with Cally.” Kye looked at Cally high above them in the box next to Hermes. Her face was pale with fear. It disgusted him to have Hermes so near to her. He couldn’t die and leave her to him. He’d brought her to Aylora. It was his responsibility to make it right. Somewhere a gong sounded, indicating the start of the game. He took a deep breath and crouched down in combat mode. Orantes stepped away, following his lead, knees bent.

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Kye launched himself at Orantes, stiletto raised. Orantes parried the downwards thrust, spun around him and kicked Kye in the thigh. Kye grunted at the unexpected blow, turning in time to defend himself from an attack from behind. He was surprised at Orantes’ strength, and proud that Orantes would give no quarter. As they stood close, the steel of their stilettos grating against each other, their shoulders trying to push the other back, Kye whispered hoarsely, “If I lose, take care of her.” Orantes pushed him away, struggling to gain his breath. His thrust his chin out in determination. “We won’t lose.” We? Kye frowned, wondering what he meant. They continued to parry and thrust, Orantes dancing back lightly when Kye came close with his blade. Kye felt himself at a disadvantage with his blurred eyesight and aching ribs. When Orantes pressed at him with a series of blows, Kye stumbled and half-fell to his knees to the crowd’s cheers. Orantes leaned over him, the stiletto aimed at his throat, and Kye knew he was done for. Then they heard a decidedly feminine shout. The crowd’s attention was swept away to Hermes’ box. Kye and Orantes turned to see Cally striking Hermes hard, before running to the edge of the box. She had a leg over the side before her dress was caught by the guards. They dragged her back into the box as she screamed, managing to land a few punches before they stilled her limbs and pinned her down onto her seat. She squirmed as their heavy hands rested on her bare shoulders. Hermes, his face a livid mask of rage, reached over and struck her. The crowd gasped. Hermes turned to the arena and shouted furiously, “Continue the fight or the woman will die!” Fury rising in waves of hate, Kye rose slowly to his feet, helped by Orantes. He stared at the boy, whose bright eyes urged at him to grasp his power. It was suddenly clear to Kye what he had to do. He pivoted and used the momentum of the swift, smooth movement to launch his stiletto across the arena. He watched as it spun over and over in the air. He held his breath, his blood raging in his eardrums, his heart thundering, and prayed.

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It landed home with a thunk. Hermes stared at him, mouth wide with horror. He touched the place where the stiletto protruded from the center of his chest. And then, slowly, he tipped and fell over the edge of the box into the arena as if following Cally’s failed attempt. There was a terrible gasp as Hermes hit the ground. His body lay sprawled and twisted. A circle of blood pooled around him. Kye looked up at Hermes’ box. The guards had raced to the edge of the box and Cally had joined them. Their eyes met. Hers were filled with a terrible relief. Stunned by the turn of events, the crowd remained silent. Then Hermes’ personal bodyguards began to pour into the arena. Orantes raised his dagger in the air. “Hermes is dead!” he shouted. “Long live Kye!” The bodyguards stopped in their tracks. The crowd whispered together, moved restlessly, undecided what to do. Corionus detached himself from the group of Hermes’ bodyguards. He looked long and hard at Kye and Orantes. Orantes’ hand tightened on his stiletto, and Kye wondered if he would use it on his friend. Instead, Corionus turned to the crowd and lifted his sword high above his head. “Long live Kye!” The sound of his shout rang across the arena. Kye stiffened in shock, a shock reflected in the uneasy movement of the bodyguards and the crowd. Orantes stepped forward and raised his stiletto. “Long live Kye!” Hermes bodyguards looked at each other, and almost as one raised their fists and shouted, “Long live Kye!” “Long live Kye!” someone in the crowd shouted back, and suddenly the crowd rose as one, stamping their feet as they chanted it over and over, until the sound thundered around them. Kye, his eyes full of tears, felt Orantes’ hand on his shoulder. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground in relief.

Chapter Eight Night fell and Cally sat alone in her room. It had been an incredible day. Kye had been made the new Lord of Ayloran and Orantes declared his official consort. News had spread fast, and she had been thoroughly inspected by half the officials in Aylora who had come to pay their respects to Kye and Orantes. Some of them had traveled huge distances at great speed to make sure they confirmed their allegiance before the day was out. Politics ruled the rest of the day. Under Corionus’ command, Hermes’ body had been borne away from the arena by his bodyguards. Kye and Orantes had climbed over the wall into her box as the crowds cheered them. Kye held her close in his arms, joined by Orantes. Tears had sprung into her eyes as they embraced her, murmuring soothingly. Finally, they had drawn away. “If it is your wish, you may return to Terra,” Kye had said. His face darkened with true regret. “I’m sorry for all I’ve forced you to endure. If I could take any of it back, I would.” She hadn’t had time to respond before the crowds descended upon them. Kye and Orantes had been swept away, raised high on the shoulders of the crowd, and thereafter captured by the fever of celebration that seemed to have overtaken everyone in Aylora. Now, in the quiet of the evening, Cally had time to contemplate her future. Kye had offered a free ticket back to Terra. She could leave Aylora and pick up her old life. It could be as though nothing had changed. Yet everything had changed. She was not the same Cally who’d arrived in Aylora barely a week before. Her time with Kye and Orantes meant more to her than just a lustful fling. She had no idea how they would change as they assumed new

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responsibilities and adapted to their new roles. If she were honest, she didn’t know them well enough to recognize the ways in which they would change. She only knew that she hated the idea of leaving. Aylora could do with someone like her. All day she’d heard the wistful tone in the men’s voices as their gazes lingered over her with curiosity and yearning. There needed to be women brought to Aylora, women who would be happy to forge a new destiny side by side with these hardy and lonely men who’d only had each other for comfort. Women who could help them forge families, or not -- as they desired. Who am I kidding? It wouldn’t be Aylora she was staying for. It would be for Kye and Orantes. What they had shared in the cave, in the arena, had linked them in an inextricable bond, tighter even than the ropes Hermes had used for her torture. Even freed, she could feel them chafing at her, reminding her that she no longer belonged to herself. Part of her belonged to Kye and Orantes. She sighed as she restlessly paced the room, the full skirt of her red gown swinging around her ankles. Neither Kye nor Orantes had asked her to stay. Stopping before the dresser, Cally carefully removed the hairpins holding up her hair and let the bright, thick locks cascade down her back. As she reached for her shoulder to unfasten the clasp of her gown, she heard the door open behind her. Probably the servant returning to help her undress. “Cally.” The sound of the familiar husky voice sent a surge of fire thrilling through her body. She swung around. Kye stood a few feet inside the room while Orantes closed the door behind him. They’d bathed and changed into clean clothes -- soft trousers and loose knit shirts. Their wounds had been tended, though their bruised and battered faces still showed the marks of their maltreatment. Victory had marked them with its aura of triumph. They looked beautiful. Tall, masculine, and assured of their power. They stood silently observing her, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Perhaps they had come to say goodbye.

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“I don’t know what to say,” she said awkwardly. “I suppose I should thank you for saving me from Hermes.” Her gaze swept over them before she turned aside to hide the prickle of tears at her eyes. “And for allowing me to return to Terra.” Kye took a hesitant step toward her. “Cally, can you forgive me for what I did?” Cally stared at him. His swarthy good looks entranced her. She dampened the urge to press her mouth against his finely molded lips, to taste him one more time. She forced herself to smile. “It’s forgiven.” She shrugged lightly. “At least I’ll have a good story to tell my grandchildren.” “Our grandchildren,” Orantes said firmly. His youthful face broke out in a sudden grin. Cally stared at him in shock. “Our grandchildren?” Orantes nodded. He glanced at Kye and expelled an impatient sigh. “He’s too hard-headed to ask you, so I will. We want you to stay with us.” Cally’s face tingled as she flushed. She glanced at Kye, who stared at the floor as though embarrassed. “Is that what you want, Kye?” she asked him. Kye looked up at her, his face flushed. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.” Orantes shrugged and adopted a nonchalant pose. “He feels like a shit for what he did to you,” he drawled, his eyes glinting mischievously. “He doesn’t think you’ll agree to stay. I spent the last hour convincing him to ask you.” He grinned at her. “I told him you’d say yes.” The unbearable weight of regret lifted from her heart, replaced by palpable relief. She stilled the urge to pounce on both of them then and there. Instead, she mirrored Orantes’ nonchalance. “You did, did you?” She gave him a mock frown. “Aren’t you just a little too arrogant for your own good?” “I know what I want.” Orantes thrust out his chin belligerently. “And I want you and Kye.” A smiled twitched at her lips. The boy had turned into a man.

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She turned back to Kye as he shifted on his feet, still unwilling to believe that she would accept him. “What do you want, Kye?” she asked him softly. Her heart thundered in her chest with breathless eagerness to hear the words from him. For a moment she thought he would stay stubbornly silent. Then he took in a deep breath. His eyes darkened as he gazed across the room at her. “I want you, Cally,” he said roughly. “You and Orantes. Here, with me.” He paused. “For as long as you both want to stay.” “Well.” She looked at them both. “If we’re going to have grandchildren together, I guess that’s going to be a long time.” She smiled. Orantes gave a great whoop of joy and sprang at her, catching Cally by the waist and swinging her round and round the room. She laughed, looking for Kye over his shoulder. Kye’s hard, handsome face had broken into a smile of relief. Orantes dropped her on the bed, his lithe body covering hers. His lips trailed over her neck, stopping to breathe in the scent of her hair. She savored the attention, sighing as she clasped him close. The bed bowed under Kye’s weight as he arranged his long, lean length beside her. His strong hands spanned her narrow waist. Kye’s face hovered over hers, his lips tantalizingly close. Kye trailed a finger down the side of her soft cheek almost wonderingly. Cally thought she would drown in the pleasure of his possessive gaze. She wanted his hands on her. Her nerve endings jangling with desire, she caught Kye around the neck and drew him down to her. Their lips met, warm and potent. She sighed as he explored the seam of her lips with his tongue, gently along the full curve of her mouth as he savored the plump fullness of her lips. Her mouth parted beneath his, welcoming him. He explored it lavishly, his tongue probing every hidden corner. Orantes unclasped the fastening on her shoulders. Her gown gaped and fell over the curves of her body, exposing her warm flesh. She felt Orantes’ lips skimming over her shoulder before landing on her puckered nipples, pausing to suckle in luxurious abandon. She moaned beneath his laving tongue.

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Kye caressed her other breast, his fingers drawing a trail of heat as he circled its swollen curve, drawing a tingling response as his thumb brushed sensuously over her nipple. His head dipped and he took her nipple into his mouth. Cally gasped, arching delicately as both Kye and Orantes worked on each of her breasts. She draped an arm about their shoulders, stroking their hair, nudging them closer together. Their weight shifted on the bed, their mouths trailing ever nearer to the dip between her breasts and finally met. Kye took charge, kissing Orantes deeply. Orantes responded with avid desire. Their tongues tangled, ravaging each other with a ferocity that sent a rush of wet heat between her legs. She reached between them and rubbed her hands along the hard ridge of their erections, feeling them jump to life under her touch. Kye and Orantes parted, stared at each other and at her, panting. Almost as one, they all jumped off the bed and disrobed, scattering clothes about the room in their eagerness to be naked. They crawled back onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, seeking mouths, probing tongues, sighs and long caresses. Cally found herself sandwiched between the two men, her mouth clinging to Kye’s broad chest, licking at his smooth skin, her tongue finding his dark nipples. She bit them playfully and he moaned, the head of his cock pressing hard against her dripping mons between her straddling legs. Orantes spooned her body from behind, his mouth devoured by Kye’s kisses. His long, supple fingers tweaked her nipples, and then ran down the length of her body to stroke Kye’s cock before dipping inside her. She arched back against him as Orantes’ thumb played with her clit while his fingers rubbed at Kye’s cock. Slowly he guided Kye inside her, his fingers stretching her pussy wide. Kye’s cock filled her with his incredible hardness. She rocked herself against Kye, arching back to give Orantes’ flickering fingers at her clit room to move. With a low groan, Kye thrust up inside her, the movement trapping Orantes’ hand between them. She cried out, pushing her hips to meet Kye’s powerful thrusts which almost lifted her into the air with their ferocity. His harsh breathing filled the room.

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Orantes moved to Kye’s side, planting a kiss on his mouth, pushing Kye gently down until he lay flat on the bed. Cally arched her back, riding Kye hard. Orantes knelt by Kye’s head. His cock lay hard against his belly, his balls tight against his body. Taking the shaft of his cock firmly in hand, he eased the tip against Kye’s lips. Kye opened his mouth and took it eagerly, swallowing first the head and then the shaft. His finely molded lips clenched over the ridged skin, pumping Orantes’ shaft with a rhythmic movement that echoed his thrusts inside Cally. Orantes’ firm abs hardened, his thighs growing taut with the pressure of holding himself angled down to keep his penis in Kye’s mouth. His beautiful expression had turned to ecstasy, his riotous blue hair falling over his face as he concentrated intently on keeping himself from coming too quickly. Cally gushed wetly over Kye’s thrusting cock, the sight of the two men together sending an electrical bolt of pure lust through her aching breasts. As if sensing how close she was to release, Kye reached out and clasped her breasts, his thumbs stroking both aching, throbbing nipples. Her orgasm rolled over her in a slow motion wave of pleasure, unfolding from the muscles spasming over Kye’s cock to the sensitive nipple that she was pushing wildly against the palm of his open hand. Orantes suddenly shuddered, withdrawing from Kye’s mouth until only the head of his cock was clenched firmly between Kye’s lips. His hips moved convulsively, trying to push deep into Kye’s mouth. But Kye held the bulb of his head firmly in place with clamped lips, sucking and stroking with his tongue until he had taken every last drop of his cum and swallowed it whole. Groaning, Orantes waited until his cock softened before removing the sensitive organ from Kye’s mouth. Only then did Kye surrender to his own pleasure. He clasped Orantes’ hips tight for support and thrust deep into Cally a final time. His back arched, muscles straining, moaning low as he achieved his climax, pouring himself into Cally with hot, delicious force. As Kye lay breathing heavily on the bed, Orantes stretched out to one side of him, gently stroking his chest. Cally eased herself off him and lay on his other side.

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She stroked Kye’s cheek. “I love you,” she said softly. Her eyes met Orantes’ over Kye’s chest. They leaned forward together, their lips meeting halfway, breaths mingling tenderly. “I love you,” she whispered. Kye’s hand caressed both their backs. He looked first at Orantes and then at Cally. He smiled and said, “Ditto.” But his gaze held a promise of delights to come. Cally sighed with pleasurable anticipation. It was going to be a long night.

Cassandra Kane Cassandra Kane grew up in Australia and now resides in the UK. A voracious reader, she’s been devouring science fiction and romances simultaneously since she was a teenager. She was never happier than when she discovered she could marry the two genres and get away with placing her characters in all sorts of wild and erotic situations. Despite reveling in her God-like qualities on the page, in real life she cunningly manages to appear perfectly normal. To get in touch you can email her at [email protected] or visit her website at www.cassandrakane.com for news on her latest books.