The Slave Palace: Wulf and Locke (Kingdom of Slaves Book 1) Page 19

  Locke shoved it under his backside, raising his hips up and giving Wulf access to his pucker. Wulf probed, liking the way the muscle stretched around his finger, amazed at the heat there, the tightness, and though he’d known about this sort of contact, and seen it in the training room and videos, he grew concerned that an erect cock—especially one of his size—would not fit.

  But what he really wanted right now was to continue to look and touch.

  He glanced up and saw Locke was back to his half-lidded, hypnotized demeanor.

  Locke raised an eyebrow at him and said one word. “Deeper.”

  Wulf pushed his finger past the tight muscle to slippery softness. Locke moaned and seemed to like it, so he slid it in further, then in and out stroking gently.

  “Tilt your finger up. There’s a bump. It’s a gland and it gives such pleasure.”

  Wulf obeyed, finding the spot, and Locke drew in a fast breath. “Yes!” His cock twitched.

  Locke’s body gave off a deep bronze sheen as it glowed. Everything became slick and warm and smooth between them.

  When Wulf removed his finger, Locke let out a moan that was almost disappointment, but not for long as Wulf bent forward to kiss him again. Locke’s hands stroked Wulf’s chest, fingertips running over hard muscle and peaked nipples.

  He wanted to feel all of Locke against him and couldn’t stop the movement of his hips against Locke’s and more surges of heat as their cocks pressed together against taut abdomens.

  Locke pushed Wulf to his side until they were facing each other.

  Wulf said, “Don’t make me stop.”

  “I won’t.” Locke ran a hand alongside his head. “But I want to touch you and pet you, too. Taste you.”

  A tremble ran through Wulf, hot and liquid.

  “You’re so eager and young, so hard. I want to make you come. It won’t be like earlier today. It won’t be an accident. It will be because we want this. You can relax and let go. Just feel. Once that happens, then we can continue, take our time.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Lie back.”

  Pillows cushioned Wulf’s shoulders and head. He wanted this more than he had ever allowed himself to acknowledge. His ejaculation from the massage had happened too quickly and shame had overcome the pleasure, though he could still recall the sensation well enough to know he wanted to repeat it, do it right.

  When Locke ran his hands over Wulf’s chest again, he could not keep from arching his back. Wulf’s cock pointed heavy and hard to his bellybutton. It rose and fell with his jerking motion, clear liquid beading at the tip, which protruded round and pink from his foreskin.

  Locke kissed him again on the lips, but this time it was quick. Wulf missed that mouth when it left his, that pressure, that wonderful salt-sweet taste.

  But soon he forgot the loss as Locke’s lips and tongue kissed and licked his throat, then trailed over his chest. Hands ran down his sides as lips found Wulf’s left nipple and gave a pull.

  Wulf cried out in pleasure. It was so much, almost too much. His body couldn’t stay still though he tried to relax.

  When that nipple was thoroughly explored, Locke found the other, doing the same to it. Wulf’s whole body felt ready to explode.

  Slowly, Locke worked his way down Wulf’s torso, licking, kissing. He crawled between his legs and his hands ran down Wulf’s inner thighs, leaving trails of fire. Wulf’s balls tensed. He was going to come.

  “Not yet,” Locke said, as if he could read and feel Wulf’s responses through body language. Their connection was growing stronger. Wulf didn’t need to ask for anything.

  Locke put his palm against Wulf’s groin, forefinger and thumb circling the base of his cock, which perked even more, standing straight up now. The pressure eased the immediate feeling of impending orgasm, and Wulf could take a deeper breath—only to expel it all as he felt Locke’s mouth encase the head of his cock.

  He could not help but kick out with one leg. His hands fisted the bedspread. He let out a strange sound, like a sob and an exclamation of astonished dismay at the same time.

  When Locke began to suck, Wulf thrust up with his hips without meaning to. He wanted to relax, but those lips, that mouth—and now it was sinking down on him in such exquisite glory that even his deepest most forbidden desires had never imagined it could be this good.

  Such burning. Such a roaring within. Surely he was moving too high too fast. He was going to come apart. He was going to fly up into a million pieces that would become forever lost in infinity.

  He wanted this to last. His body struggled with itself to hold onto this pleasure and not let go too soon. He started to mumble words that made no sense as the mouth moved over his shaft up and down.

  As it came up, the tongue tickled the head of his cock in such a way that he could feel the warm liquid begin to bubble through him, though he was still holding on, still gripping the spread and curling his toes trying to prolong some semblance of control.

  This was amazing. But Locke had said to relax into it, that they would continue on through the night. This wasn’t an ending, but a beginning.

  Wulf thought he would like to do this all night, if possible.

  The mouth did amazing things to him, sometimes rising all the way off and dipping to lick at his balls, other times taking him all the way down until he could feel the tip of his cock jut against the roof of Locke’s mouth, then slide into the softness of the throat.

  The sucking got him so wet and then there was thrusting again. He couldn’t stop, back and forth, the mouth taking him in, the pull and the wiggle of the tongue driving him into a white frenzy.

  His words, which seemed incoherent, became coherent again only because he was begging for it. Clutching the bedspread as if it might ground him.

  “Please. Yes. I can’t hold back. I’m going to—I’m going to—“

  Locke sucked harder and the peak of brightness went golden. He was coming fast and hard, so hard his teeth knocked together and his throat closed. All breath froze in his lungs. His body went rigid. Everything he could never have now felt like it was pouring over him, all the pleasure of the world and beyond, for all time.

  Somewhere in the room a man was moaning over and over, loud enough to be heard amidst the drowning howling of his body in ecstasy.

  His cock spasmed and jerked again and again as Locke sucked all he had to give.

  Slowly, gently he wafted on his euphoria. Even as his cock left that hot, wonderful mouth, he still floated. Arms went around him, pulled him against a hard chest.

  Words. Buoyant and yet grounding. Patient and caring. Loving. “Yes. That’s it. My love, you are beautiful, beautiful.”

  He was panting against a slick chest, smooth as satin, hard muscles rippling beneath soft skin. His cheek pressed and then he was rubbing his whole face there, breathing in, and pressing into Locke’s neck inhaling rich scents of passion: spice, musk, the smokiness of hot skin.

  Hands smooth his hair back from his face, cupped his cheeks, kissed him hard. Wulf tasted himself, tart and earthy, cloying. He opened his mouth wide and allowed Locke to plunder it.

  His hands automatically ran down Locke’s belly, over a hip, encountering a hard cock. He wrapped his fingers around it just to feel and it jerked and pulsed. He pulled back, looking down.

  Locke was coming and white streams jetted from the tip of his handsome shaft.

  Wulf squeezed and pulled up. More white spray shot, then eased, still fountaining out and over the pink head.

  “Look what you did to me,” Locke said quietly.

  “I—“ Wulf glanced up to see Locke smiling, not disappointed. Anything but.

  “I usually need more stimulation,” Locke said. “But I guess with you that’s all out the window.”

  Wulf tilted his head. “Really?”

  Locke let out a short laugh.

  Wulf continued to pet Locke’s still half-hard cock, wanting to savor the texture, remembering how it tasted when he
’d licked it, wanting to taste it again... soon.

  They tumbled on the bed together, Locke laughing, Wulf just trying to catch his breath. This was all so new and wonderful. He wanted more. He couldn’t quite relax yet, but he would find his way.

  Hands went everywhere. Mouths met. Bodies undulated against each other, sliding on sweat and semen and oil. The bed and pillows encased them. The room grew steamy.

  Tongues licked hard nipples and burgeoning cocks. Fingers probed, oiled and smooth.

  Wulf was hard in no time, yet it felt less urgent but still impossibly good.

  When Locke was fully erect again, he pushed himself between Wulf’s widespread legs, rubbing against his balls and the crack of his ass. He leaned down and sucked on the tip of Wulf’s cock, then backed up on his knees and pushed against the backs of Wulf’s thighs.

  He’d been playing with him, opening him up for what seemed like hours. Now Wulf was ready. He wanted this. He wanted to feel filled to brim until he could not breathe again, flying so high he’d never come all the way back to Earth, a part of him left to wander the stars.

  “Yes,” Wulf said.

  Locke leaned into him, chest to chest, holding his cock in position but not moving. He kissed Wulf’s lips lightly, then said, “A consent form is one thing. But this means more. Tell me yes one more time and it will be so.”

  “Yes. Please. I want you. I want you.”

  Locke reached between them and rubbed his cock against Wulf’s hole. His dark eyes gazed into Wulf’s as he slid forward, so smooth, the path well-oiled and ready. His muscles were relaxed and gave easily after the first wince and burn.

  Locke slid in the rest of the way easily and now they were truly connected, merged.

  Wulf tossed his head back on the pillow and moaned. He was so full. Brimming and flying, just as he’d wished for.

  Slowly, Locke began to move. Everything seemed glistening and wet—the lights against the windows, the very air of the room itself.

  He reached up and gripped Locke’s shoulders, hanging on for dear life.

  This was too good. This was not what he thought would happen to him when he was first caught and imprisoned and then labeled a One-Night Thrall.

  “Locke,” he said between breaths. “Locke, don’t let go. Please don’t let go of me. I want—I want—“

  And he was soaring. The rhythm increased and inside and out he was trembling, on fire, his cock rising, so hard, so hard. Locke reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Wulf’s shaft and that was all he needed, just that touch and he was spurting.

  All thought wiped out of his mind. He could still feel the cock inside him pushing into him, pressing a special place that sent volcanic eruptions throughout his body, but no thoughts. Just feeling. And more feeling. His breath locked up again, his throat and chest tight.

  Locke groaned and said, “I’ve never felt this way before. It’s as if you own me and not me who owns you.”

  Wulf thrilled at the words.

  Locke continued to murmur, seemed unable to stop. “Oh, you are gripping me so tight. I’m coming. Oh, yes, you are so sweet, so sweet—“

  Locke fell on top of Wulf, still hard, still inside him even as the pulsings slowed, then stopped.

  Their arms locked around each other.

  “I won’t let you go,” Locke said. “Ever.”

  Wulf looked up at him. Into the dark infinity of his master’s gaze. “I believe you now.”

  Their lips met again. And again, they were lost.

  Epilogue - Locke

  Locke helped Wulf to step up and onto the marble pedestal. Gleaming and golden, his slave nearly eclipsed the sun.

  Wulf held his head high. His broad shoulders jutted back, showing off the remarkable pecs, every inch of his naked form painted in shades of ochre, fawn, amber, gold.

  Wulf’s erect cock stood straight out and proud. He had no trouble maintaining it, young as he was, as long as Locke was around to admire him. Wulf responded to that admiration more and more every day.

  Locke gazed at him. The most splendid man, the most generously needy and beautiful soul he’d ever met. When Wulf wasn’t in Locke’s arms, they ached. Locke could not get enough of him. He licked his lips, letting his gaze wander up and down that gorgeous body.

  Wulf’s cock jerked in response. Just that—Locke’s unconditional admiration and love—made his slave hard. He barely had to touch him to make him come sometimes.

  “I will be here walking the grounds, not far off. Think of me watching you from vantages where you cannot see me. I’ll bring you down for a brief break in an hour. Then you can go back up if you want. We can do this all afternoon.”

  “I’d like that so much,” Wulf replied. His voice was so different now, much more confident than when Locke had first met him. There were no tremors, no hidden angers, no subtle hints of rage, disgust, fear or denial anymore.

  Locke had gotten lucky with this one. He’d opened him up with the right key at the right moment and the man—the pure art and essence of what he was—had become his.

  He hoped it would stay that way forever.

  The End

  Dear Reader:

  Thank you for reading my fantasy romance The Slave Palace.

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  I have more upcoming standalone books in my Kingdom of Slaves series.

  The Slave Harem.

  The Secret Slave.

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  About Wendy Rathbone

  I love to write.

  The reason I write romance these days is because the overwhelming power of falling in love (which has been proven to heal even cancer) is a game-changer. It makes sad people instantly happy. It makes bleak reality look sun-warmed and friendly again.

  I have written in all genres: scifi, fantasy, horror, paranormal, contemporary, erotica, romance. But I keep coming back to romance. Gay romance. Male/male romance. The idea of two men falling in love in a society that has winced at that sort of thing for far too long is alluring. Many of my themes involve abduction, pleasure slavery, indentured servitude, and imprisonment. It’s like, with my writing, I’m constantly breaking out of some self-imposed cage and letting my wings unfurl until I can finally fly. I also love mismatched couples.

  This is why I write. This is what makes me burn.

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  Love to you all!

  Wendy Rathbone

  LORD VAMPYRE

  Wendy Rathbone

  When Lord Neverelle becomes a guest at Cliffside Keep, Vanni watches helplessly as Damion, the young man he’s grown up with and secretly loves, falls for the alluring and seductive stranger. Lord Neverelle is danger incarnate, and soon take
s control of the household.

  Not satisfied with Damion alone, Never uses a vampire trick called “the tempt” to compel Vanni, who is swept into a love triangle that includes fiery passion and nightly threesomes.

  Now Vanni must ask himself, is any of this consensual? And what about Damion—does he really want to be with Vanni, or is it all a sensual play controlled by vampire compulsion?

  M/M and M/M/M romance.

  Also available in paperback, on Amazon,

  or order from your favorite bookseller.

  THE IMPOSTER KING (Book 2 of The Imposter Series)

  Wendy Rathbone

  Their love made them close. Their secret kept them closer.

  Dare and Prince Malory are happily married and in love, but the secret of Dare’s true identity as a mere servant threatens their romantic bliss.

  Messages to the king of Brookfall go unanswered, and rumors of war unsettle both kingdoms. Until one day heralds arrive with bags of gold to ransom Dare and demand his return to Brookfall.

  King Millard, Prince Malory’s father, orders Dare to make the journey to see his father. But Dare is not the true heir, and if they meet, the secret he and Mal have been guarding will be revealed. Also, impersonating a royal means a death penalty offense. Worse, it could mean all-out war between their countries.

  Panic. Despair. Lovers torn asunder. Personal sacrifice. More dark secrets revealed. An ending that will leave you breathless.