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by Kim Dare
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Principles don't pay tuition fees. When Ryland's math scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices. He can borrow money from fellow student Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts. Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions. One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice will give him enough money to finish his PhD. It seems like a good deal-right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions.
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: March 2010
207 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [171 KB]
Reading time: 116-162 min.
He wasn't completely naked. Ryland Gilford silently repeated the fact over and over inside his head. Even though it was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
By his careful estimations, sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away. Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
The car lurched to a sudden stop. The seat belt tightened across Ryland's chest as he was flung forward. His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
Dragging a deep lungful of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra--one that didn't remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
Textbooks cost money? That was more promising. Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he'd agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he'd somehow manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
Textbooks cost money. Tuition fees have to be paid. Rent money has to be found. Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during the next academic year would be nice, too.
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn't enough. Ryland still felt sick to his stomach. The car turned a sharp corner. He swayed in his seat before finally managing to right himself. The chauffeur's driving really wasn't helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
Still it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows' drivers...
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Yes, that was what he really needed to remember. Sacrificing his principles this way might make his skin crawl, but it was still better than putting himself into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial math student whose scholarship had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
He'd heard all about the way Jason Burrows called in his debts. The rumors made him out to be very inventive in certain areas. Anything had to be better than that--even this.
The car jerked to a stop once more. Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine. Ryland's breath caught in his throat as he realized this wasn't just another set of traffic lights.
From the darkness behind his blindfold, he heard the driver get out of the car. The door next to him was thrown open. Cold air rushed into the claustrophobic little space. Clothes brushed against his bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt. The driver's breath caressed his neck.
Ryland tried to press himself further back against the seat. The buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the back. A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of his arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car. He stumbled as he tried to get his balance. The chauffeur took no notice.
Gravel crunched under the other man's shoes and bit into Ryland's bare feet as he was marched forward. They stopped as suddenly as they started. A yank on Ryland's arm kept him upright when he'd have stumbled. It damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket too.
A doorbell rang in the distance. The driver let go of his arm. Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact someone had set his shoulder on fire was the only thing he needed to be worried about right then.
Footsteps stomped over the gravel once more, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
"Where are you going?" Ryland silently cursed himself. He really hadn't intended to sound that way, but the words already hung in the cool evening air. It was too late to wish they'd been braver.
A car started up. Ryland turned toward it. "What the--" He opened and closed his mouth a few times. No other words materialized.
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel. Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked before he launched himself into this stupid mess. If he'd believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he was sure he'd have asked every single one of the right questions.
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he wasn't that kind of man. If he'd let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade, he wouldn't have entered into it calm and well informed. He'd have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
And what would he have done then? Borrow the money from Jason Burrows? Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they'd said he'd never get through his degrees without crawling back to them and begging for their help.
A cool breeze danced over Ryland's skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different. A shiver raced down his spine. The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own. It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn't put his hands in front of his body, that he couldn't even see and find a bush to hide behind. Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he was alone in some nameless person's driveway.
"Please, God, let it be the right house," he whispered to himself. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it? Please, don't let it belong to some nice little old lady who's going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, you're in the right place." The words were purred just a few inches from his ear. Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his ... his attacker? One of his owners for the rest of the night?
The heat radiating from a warm body confirmed the speaker stood within inches of him. He barely had time to register that fact before a naked body brushed against him. Ryland stumbled away from it. An embarrassing little yelp escaped from the back of his throat as he discovered another, equally naked, man behind him. Surrounded by bare skin, he twisted around, searching blindly for an escape route.
"No playing in the driveway!" someone yelled from the direction of the house. "Inside, all of you--now!"
Strong hands wrapped around each of Ryland's bound arms and led him forward.
Tile flooring replaced the gravel. Wooden floorboards replaced tiles and in turn gave way to thick carpet. A door slammed behind him. The room they'd led him into was stiflingly hot after the chill of the driveway. The rapid change in temperature sent a shiver through him.
As the hands gripping his arms disappeared, silence surrounded him once more, broken only by the sound of logs crackling on a fire. For a few seconds, Ryland managed to focus on his actual surroundings rather than all the horrible possibilities that tangled themselves together his mind. The heat from the fire warmed the right side of his body.
Fire on the right. Door on the left. He knew where he was. Sort of. Even if he didn't, pretending he did made him feel a little bit better about the world. And it had to be better than thinking about the eyes he could feel roaming over his bare skin. No one laid a hand on him, but disturbed air caressed his skin. Ryland got the distinct impression someone was circling him, that he was being judged.
Against all reason, he found himself hoping whoever it was, would be pleased with what they saw. He wasn't under any illusions. Guy's weren't exactly queuing around the block in the rain for him. But he wasn't so bad. Some guys seemed to like him. Some guys liked blond hair and blue eyes on general principle. The guy who'd agreed to send him there that night had certainly seemed to like staring at him when Ryland had stripped down to 'audition' for the part he was about to play in this stupid little game.
Ryland swallowed several times as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. A slow breath in and out failed to calm his rush towards full out panic.
"No one's going to hurt you." Once again, the words came from just behind his ear, but this time they made him freeze rather than spin around. It was a different voice, deeper and richer than the one that had spoken to him outside.
"You were told we have no interest in unwilling men?"
The silence demanded an answer.
"Yes," Ryland admitted. And he'd been desperate enough to believe it. Bloody fool...
Something touched his cheek. Ryland let out a terrified little whimper before he realized it was nothing more frightening than another man's hair brushing against him. Impossibly soft lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. A rough tongue rasped against his skin.
Ryland bit back another whimper as the sensation rushed straight down his spine and lodged in his cock.
"You know what's expected of you?"
"Whatever you want." Ryland cleared his throat. "I have to do whatever you want for the rest of the night." He had to. If he didn't, he'd probably be expected to give the money back--which would be pretty difficult, considering he'd already spent every last penny of it paying the remainder of his tuition fees.
The man behind him made a vague noise, half way between agreement and disagreement. Lips trailed up Ryland's neck. The heat from a man's body standing close behind him overpowered the warmth from the fire, rendering the blaze insignificant.
"Tell me what you want me to do?" Ryland asked.
The request was ignored.
Long strands of hair brushed against his other cheek. "Have you ever taken a lion before?"
Ryland shook his head. But that didn't mean he hadn't heard all the tales that were whispered around the university. Werelions lived on campus. A man could make easy money being thrown to the lions. Oh, yes, he knew all the rumors. It was gossip like that that had landed him in this mess in the first place.
Strong. Dominant. Insatiable. Werelions. Half man, half cat. They hunt in groups and share their prizes with the rest of the pride. In that moment, Ryland really wished he hadn't heard the stories, almost as much as he wished the guy hadn't said the L word. He'd sounded so human. It would have been so easy to pretend...
The lion closed the gap between them. A hard cock brushed against Ryland's skin. Against all reason, he felt his own cock twitch in response. The shifter moved closer still. Lining his body up behind Ryland's, he ran his tongue over his shoulder once more.
Large hands settled on Ryland's flanks, holding him still, but it didn't feel like the lion was trying to stop him from escaping. His touch was strong, confident, it seemed to aim to reassure rather than restrain.
The rough tongue's caress sent a shudder through Ryland's body. He bowed his head as an image of a kneeling shifter invaded his mind. The possibilities of that tongue turning its attentions to his cock made him whimper.
Warped. Ryland mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He was so warped. Not to mention delusional. Like there was a hope in hell he'd be the one looking down at another man on his knees that night.
Even knowing that, logic proved a poor match for fantasy. His cock hardened further. Ryland tried to bring his hands in front of him to cover his embarrassment. The chain linking the leather cuffs rattled. His hands stayed where they were.
Muffled whispers reached him from some distant part of the room but he couldn't make out the words. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he realized there was no way he could hide how much he was enjoying the other man's touch.
The hands on his flanks slid down and settled over his hipbones. The lion's palms were rough against his skin. It was easy to believe they had seen a great deal of work as paws. The tiny bit of air that remained between him and the other man disappeared. Ryland felt the lion's body move against him with every breath. He was taller than Ryland, broader, obviously stronger.
And he was just as obviously hung like ... like every other lion on the planet for all Ryland knew. Strangely enough, student gossip hadn't had anything to say on that point. It was possible that huge for a human only represented normal to a lion.
All Ryland really knew was the cock nudging against his skin was hard and ready to play. Pre-cum smeared against his left buttock as the lion rocked his hips. His own cock curved enthusiastically back towards his stomach in response.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Ryland tried not to squirm within the lion's hold on him. The grip on his hips tightened anyway, as if the shifter knew exactly what was in his head. The other man's tongue traced a line across his neck.
"There are rules."
The voice sent another shudder through him. Ryland automatically leaned back against the scorching skin behind him. That earned him a pleased noise, almost like a purr--or how a purr might sound if it emanated from someone twice Ryland's size. Lips vibrated against his skin, pulling a moan from Ryland in response.
"Repeat what I just said."
"I..." was all Ryland could manage.
"Rules," the lion reminded him.
Ryland nodded. "Rules."
"The word 'spear' ends it all. Until you say that word, I will do whatever I want with you. Understand?"
"What do you need to say?"
Ryland licked his lips. "Sp--" He cut himself off. "I don't want to stop." He didn't understand just how true the words were until he'd already said them. He didn't want this to stop. Every sensible thought in his head scatted at the realization.
"Good boy." Rough palms against his abs and pulled him back tighter against the other man's skin, trapping Ryland's hands between their bodies. The lion felt entirely human, just very hot. Against all logic, Ryland found himself feeling soothed by the were's strength rather than scared by it.
The word screamed around inside his head, but it failed to freak him out the way he was sure it should. When the shifter stepped back and took his warmth away from Ryland's skin without any warning, he clutched at the empty air behind him, scrabbling to find the other man with his limited reach.
He froze as he realized someone was standing in front of him now. There was no way to tell if it was the same shifter who'd stood behind him. All he could do was stay very still and pray.
Something touched the back of his head where the buckle held the blindfold tight against his face. The strip of leather fell away.
Ryland blinked his eyes open. He'd been trapped in the darkness behind the blindfold for so long, he couldn't focus. Rumors of the way the lions looked swirled inside his head. By the time the blur before him morphed into a clear image of a man, he was half expecting to find himself face-to-face with some sort of feline cartoon character.
He blinked again when he saw the reality staring down at him. His mouth opened and closed several times. "Professor!"
The older man's lips twitched into a small smile.
Ryland stared up at the other man for what felt like a minor eternity. An honest to God lion would have been a hell of a lot easier to wrap his mind around.
"Who were you expecting?" The amusement drained out of the professor's expression. A predatory light sprang into his eyes.
Ryland had seen him look at students that way before, usually when someone was suicidal enough to try to argue about a rough grade. He'd never realized how it would feel directed at him.
His breath caught in his throat as he automatically tried to pull his brain into gear just in case a complex question about Medieval History was about to be fired off at him. His success was limited. Ryland couldn't bring himself to feel too surprised.
Professor Arslan was standing right there in front of him, hard and naked and ... and his limited historical knowledge be damned. The fact Arslan was right there among the shifters was all Ryland had room in his head for.
Part of him wasn't the least bit worried about the absence of other thoughts. Nothing could ever be as important as Professor Arslan being there. And him being naked, the bit of Ryland's brain that connected directly to his cock reminded him. The naked part of the equation was significant too.
Ryland swallowed rapidly. Very significant. As his eyes begged to be allowed to look down, Ryland forced himself to keep his gaze on the other man's face.
He'd always wondered what the professor would look like if all that long dark brown hair weren't caught back by a strip of leather at the nape of his neck. Now he knew. It looked like a lion's mane. Ryland took a shaky breath. Behind his back, his hands clenched into tight fists as he fought against a sudden spike of panic at the reminder of the L word.
"I asked you a question."
Ryland nodded. Arslan had asked him a question, and everyone who had ever attended one of his lectures knew that when the professor asked a question, you'd better bloody well know the answer.
Who had he been expecting? Quite frankly, someone who looked like they needed to pay for sex.
"I..." There was no way in hell he could say that. If he said that, then he'd end up blurting out something even worse--like the fact Professor Arslan would never have to pay for sex because damn near every student in the university who was the least interested in men would happily drop to their knees for him for free. And if he told him half the student population had a crush on him, then he'd soon be telling him which half he fell into and...
"I didn't know what to expect, sir," Ryland whispered.
The older man studied him for a long time before he finally nodded his willingness to accept his answer.
Ryland let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"He's one of your students?"
Ryland jumped at the reminder that other people existed in the world, existed in that very room. Before he had a chance to turn toward the voice or descend into panic, Arslan's hand was on the back of Ryland's head, his fingers tangling in his hair. As he held him in place, the professor somehow managed to ease Ryland's need to look over his shoulder, to see who asked the question.
"No," Arslan said, his voice brooked no argument as he looked past Ryland and glared at whoever interrupted them. "He's not one of my students."
Ryland stared up at the older man, wondering how a sentence that disclaimed all knowledge of him could also manage to sound as possessive as hell.
"You're a...?" Ryland trailed off as he realized he had no idea what to call the other man.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. "A shifter? A were? A lion? Yes."
Ryland swallowed and nodded as if that was nothing to worry about. His wrists pulled nervously at his cuffs.
Since Arslan could never need to tie someone up to ensure they did as he wished, the bondage was obviously there because he liked it. The professor wasn't just a lion. He was a kinky lion. Ryland wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
Arslan reached behind him. In a second, the cuffs were unbuckled from his wrists. The older man held the combination of leather and metal up as he studied them.
"Very dramatic," he said, apparently more to himself than to anyone else. He tossed them out of Ryland's line of sight, perhaps to another lion. Ryland didn't hear them land. He didn't try to look in the direction they disappeared to either.
Ryland's freed hands remained behind him as he waited for the other man to give him permission to move them. The professor had always been able to make him sit still through a two-hour lecture with nothing more than a glare in his general direction. No one in their right mind tapped his pen against his desk or fidgeted with his textbooks when Arslan was in charge of the room.
Ryland tried to tell himself that standing there naked with his hands behind his back was no different to minding his manners in a lecture hall. But it wasn't the same. It felt far more natural.
"I thought you didn't do students."
Arslan's fingers tightened in Ryland's hair. Nails that suddenly felt long enough to resemble claws scraped against his scalp. The professor snarled at someone outside Ryland's field of vision.
The harsh, angry little noise wasn't directed at him, but Ryland still felt his heart hesitate before taking its next beat.
The lion's snarl morphed into words without any clear line being drawn between the two. "You have something to say, Blaine?"
Professor Joseph Arslan searched the gloom that lingered outside the bright circle of firelight. As he met the younger lion's eyes, Blaine took a step back and dropped his gaze. Arslan watched the other lion's posture change as he appeared to realize he'd misjudged the situation.
Arslan wasn't inclined to be sympathetic. It was well past time the younger lion learned to show due respect to the leader of his pride. Blaine was old enough to learn how to tell when he might be allowed to play silly games and when the moment was too serious for such foolishness to be tolerated.
If the younger lions couldn't look at the man in their midst and tell that this offering from the humans was different to all those who came before, it was about time the cubs were called to heel and reminded of their respective places in his pride.
Blaine kept his eyes down. Satisfied for the moment, Arslan looked at each of the other lions who lurked around the edges of the room, daring each of them to speak.
No one said a word. No one held his gaze for longer than a second before they looked down either. Arslan turned his attention back to Ryland. The younger man quickly dropped his eyes too.
It was a far more instinctive reaction than most of the other lions had demonstrated. It screamed a natural inclination to submission rather than anything like an understanding of what it meant to be part of a pride.
Arslan gentled his grip on Ryland's hair and stroked his fingers through the ruffled strands. Putting the fear of Arslan into the other lions was one thing. There was no reason for him to scare his new pet.
Ducking his head, Arslan brushed his lips across Ryland's temple. Even that little hint of a kiss seemed to ease his anxieties. His breathing became steadier. His pulse ceased to race so quickly. Part of the younger man seemed to realize that the leader of the pride was pleased with him, that he was safe.
His improved understanding of the situation didn't wipe away everything that existed in the previous moments. Arslan could still smell the younger man's desire. That hadn't changed.
Half a step brought them together. Ryland was still hard. He let out a little mew of unexpected pleasure as the tip of his cock brushed against Arslan's hipbone, sounding for all the world like an eager cub.
Still, however enthusiastic he was about feeling their bodies rub together, he didn't reach out and try to pull Arslan closer. He seemed to appreciate that he'd given control of such decisions over to someone else.
Arslan smiled slightly. He'd been right to see the potential in him. And he'd been right to wait and watch the younger man sit in the back row of his lecture hall, he'd been right to let Ryland eavesdrop on a subject he wasn't even studying. Patience had its rewards. Ryland rocked forward ever so slightly, leaning into his master's touch.
"Do you know what it means to belong to the pride, pet?"
Ryland shook his head.
"If you don't wish to know what it means, say your word."
Ryland blinked up at him. His eyes were half closed, hooded with a depth of pleasure that seemed unfamiliar to him. Even as he stood there, he appeared to pull together the rough edges of tattered human instinct and mould it into something that might one day resemble a lion's ability to do as his nature intended.
Arslan saw his answer reflected in a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes long before the smaller man managed to frame a single syllable. He still waited for the words.
"Please, sir?" Ryland finally whispered.
And as easily as that, the silly human games were over. Ryland was his.
Arslan tugged at the short blond strands of hair, tilting Ryland's head back. Their mouths met. Arslan ran his tongue over the seam between Ryland's lips. They immediately parted, welcoming him. The younger man moaned into the kiss. The hands he'd kept behind his back for so long, finally broke their invisible bonds. He clutched at Arslan's shoulders, pulling himself onto his tiptoes as he tried to match their heights.
His new pet was apparently far too used to dealing with young men his own age. He didn't seem to know what to do with a fully-grown man, let alone a lion. Arslan wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him closer. Claws crept out as he ran his hands over Ryland's back, scratching his skin and leaving their mark to show any other lion who might catch sight of his new pet that Ryland had already been claimed.
As they traced their way down the younger man's skin, Arslan's hands stretched out to their full span, ensuring that any man who saw the scratches would also know just how large a shifter had claimed him.
Ryland bucked against him as the gentle scratches seemed to set off a cascade of adrenaline under his skin. He pressed against Arslan, rubbing their cocks together as he once more tried to climb up his lover's body and make them the same height, to make their bodies fit together the way he wanted them to.
Arslan broke the kiss and spun Ryland around. Without a pair of bound hands in the way, he was able to line himself up against the younger man's back properly. Ryland instantly murmured his approval. Pushing his buttocks back against him in encouragement, the smaller man dropped his head back to lean against Arslan's shoulder.
His eyes were closed as if to better savor each sensation his master offered him. Arslan ran his tongue over the younger man's neck. His new pet might not have been able to see the other lions watching them, but Arslan knew how closely they were being observed.
As Arslan looked up, he found Blaine and Luther staring back at him, just as he'd expected. Their own desire for Ryland was obvious. Arslan met their eyes, each man in turn. Tonight, the pair would have to make do with each other. Even as he saw the realization dawn, he noticed Luther reach out to stroke his fingertips down Blaine's spine.
Instinct demanded that he deal with his pride as well as with his new pet, Arslan met another set of watchful eyes, then another. Bowing his head over Ryland's throat, he placed a gentle nip to his neck.
Ryland couldn't have truly understood the significance of it, but he seemed to thrive on the tender touch of teeth regardless. His hand shot up to bury itself in Arslan's hair, trying to pull him back to his neck apparently desperate to feel the scrape of canines across his skin again.
Arslan let the sound of his pleasure vibrate against Ryland's throat instead. The younger man was quick to whimper his enjoyment of that too.
Placing his hand on the other man's shoulder, Arslan pressed gently down. Eyes still closed, Ryland frowned, as if he didn't understand. His expression cleared as he seemed to realize what his master wanted him to do and why. He dropped to his knees on the rug before the fireplace without any further hesitation. Reaching out, he settled his hands on the floor in front him.
As Arslan lowered himself to his knees behind the smaller man, he reached out and stroked his hand down his spine. Ryland arched into his touch like an enthusiastic cub. He shifted his knees further apart on the rug without needing to be prompted, offering himself to his lover through pure instinct.
No lion in his right mind could be expected to resist such a beautiful invitation. Arslan snatched up the tube of lubricant from beside the fireplace and smeared it on his fingers. It was warm from the blaze, and Ryland murmured his appreciation as his new master circled his hole with the tips of his fingers.
"Do you like that, pet?" Arslan whispered to him, his voice rough with his own desire, even as he fought to speak softly to the younger man. It needed every bit of his human side to remind the lion within him, that words were important when dealing with those who hadn't been raised to understand their instincts, to follow their intuition like a lion.
If he let Ryland get too lost in his newfound instincts, he'd be scared when he looked back over their time together and tried to understand what had happened. That wasn't acceptable. Lions looked after their human pets--they didn't let them get scared.
Several seconds passed before Ryland seemed able to process his master's question. He nodded rapidly. At the same time, he pushed back against Arslan's fingers, impatiently trying to squirm his way onto the digits. Arslan slid one finger inside him, quick to reward him for providing his master with such an honest answer. The younger man's breath caught in his throat, but he didn't stop trying to push back around the finger.
He might not have taken a lion before, but he obviously had some degree of experience with human men. Arslan forced a surge of jealousy aside and worked another finger alongside the first. Ryland jerked and groaned his pleasure as Arslan rubbed the tips of the digits against his prostate.
Then, as Arslan watched, his pet seemed to muster his self-control. He fell still, giving every decision, every movement over to his master. Arslan stared down at him, mesmerized by the pure beauty of the other man's submission. No lion who saw him could fail to realize exactly who Ryland belonged to right then.
Crooking his fingers, Arslan coaxed a purring little noise out of his lover. Ryland remained very still as the fingers continued to work inside him. Arslan stroked his other hand across his back, soothing him down, praising him for digging up instincts humans always seemed to bury too deeply.
Ryland seemed to like that gentle kind of caress. He murmured his pleasure, but he stayed very still, as if scared that even the tiniest movement might break some sort of spell surrounding them. Arslan thrust his fingers further inside him, encouraging him to relax, until his pleased little noises formed a constant stream of audible delight.
Ryland's head dropped forward. "Please," he whispered. "Please." It was the only word he seemed to be able to remember. Then he found another one. "Please, sir."
The two words formed a plea that couldn't be refused. Taking his fingers away, Arslan quickly slicked his shaft with extra lube. When he glanced up, Ryland was looking over his shoulder, naked craving burning in his gaze.
All thoughts of human words and traditions faded from the shifter's mind. All he could do was let the lion inside speak. The look in Ryland's eyes, every line of his body, his scent, everything about the younger man screamed his submission and his need for his master.
He offered the tip of his cock to Ryland's hole. As he pushed forward, very slowly sheathing himself inside the younger man, Ryland gasped. Arslan ran a palm down his lover's back once more, before stroking around the younger man's torso to wrap his hand around his lover's cock.
Gently squeezing the hard shaft in his hand, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the tip. Ryland clenched around his master's shaft. His head dropped forward as if the combined sensations were too much for him. Arslan continued to push forward as the pleasure Ryland took from his master's touch slowly relaxed him. Finally, he was sheathed inside him to the hilt.
For a long time, the only thing that moved was Arslan's hand underneath Ryland's body as he continued to stroke his cock, slow and simple. He took his pet to the edge and held him there as he waited for Ryland's body not just to relax around him, but to truly welcome the feel of a hard shaft stretching him open, filling him completely.
Another minute passed. Ryland began to shift within his master's grasp, not so much pushing himself forward into Arslan's hand, as pushing himself back onto his cock, silently begging his lover to move.
Arslan stopped his teasing. He removed his fingers from where they played. Steadying his lover with one hand on either side of Ryland's body, he began to rock his hips back, ready to thrust forward again. At first, the movement was tiny, a test of what his new pet was able to take.
The younger man gasped. His head was bowed so low his forehead almost touched the carpet, but it didn't seem to be an expression of submission as much as he appeared to be completely overwhelmed by his own pleasure.
Arslan pulled back further, until almost his entire shaft was cocooned in nothing but air. Ryland held his breath, as if he thought his master might leave him entirely. At the last moment, he pushed back into him. Ryland sighed his relief.
Again, and again, one slow, controlled thrust, then another, until Ryland's breaths took up the same rhythm his master's movements, and Arslan was half-sure he'd hyperventilate before he could take his pleasure from their mating. Leaning forward, he let the younger man feel his master's chest pressed close against his back as he offered him another, safer rhythm to follow.
"That's right, pet. Follow your master."
He wasn't sure if Ryland consciously understood the words, but his burgeoning instincts seemed to know what was being offered to him. The younger man's breaths fell in time with his. Arslan ran his tongue over the smaller man's shoulder as he felt Ryland arch his back, looking for more contact, more everything.
Slow measured thrusts could only last for so long. Arslan wasn't sure which of them was more of an inexperienced cub right then--the man who had never been touched by a lion, or the lion himself. His responses to Ryland were so far beyond his control, it was impossible to believe that anything he'd done with another human had in any way prepared him for this particular man.
He reached under Ryland's body and took him in hand once more. A few quick strokes and the younger man bucked underneath him. It took all of Arslan's control to ride out the waves of the other man's bliss as Ryland clenched around him and yelled his pleasure into the room.
As he stilled, Ryland's muscles seemed to give out on him. He collapsed forward on to the rug. Arslan went with him, keeping their bodies joined snugly together. The younger man rested his temple against one of his forearms as he struggled to catch his breath. His face was turned to the side. For the first time since he looked over his shoulder, Arslan saw his expression.
Such peace, such perfection. Arslan froze, still buried deep inside the younger man's body.
"Don't stop, sir," Ryland whispered. "Please, don't stop..."
Arslan rocked his hips, very slowly.
Supporting most of his frame, he let just enough of his weight rest on Ryland to ensure the younger man would be able to feel every movement--not just feel his master's shaft inside him, but feel skin moving against skin and the heat of his master's body covering his too.
Ryland continued to murmur his pleasure, but they were slow sleepy sounds now, as if his connection with his master provided quiet contentment now, rather than the waves of ecstasy that shot through him as he came.
Arslan didn't want to stop either, but as slow and careful as all his movements were, each one still pushed him closer to the edge. Even a lion couldn't last forever.
He thrust deeper inside the other man's hole and barely held back a roar as his orgasm tore through him and he spilled inside Ryland's body. The younger man gasped. His eyes fluttered open before falling closed again as the professor fell still.
Arslan let a little more of his weight rest against the younger man's body, as he offered a lick to his shoulder. He forced himself to pull away far enough to separate their bodies, but couldn't convince himself to move any further than that from his lover's side. They remained in contact, allowing him to feel every breath Ryland took as they lay there, sensing every little change in his mood while his body half covered the other man's smaller frame.
"Hush," Arslan whispered to him. "That's right, rest now."
He couldn't ever remember feeling so protective of any human who had come to them, or of anyone at all--not even the lions in his own pride. He laid one more gentle lick on Ryland's neck. His human pet made a sleepy sated noise and curled slightly on one side, arching his back as he invited Arslan to spoon behind him more comfortably.
The shifter smiled against his lover's skin. He'd been right to keep an eye on Ryland. He stroked his hand over the younger man's body. Even stretched out in front of the fire, he had that very slightly cold feeling humans always seemed to possess. Arslan molded their bodies more closely together, automatically seeking to keep his pet warm and content.
A sudden bang on the other side of the room made Ryland jerk and gasp. Arslan reached over him and set his palm on the rug the other side of his lover protecting him with his body as he turned and snarled at the disturbance.