Tarth, Tarth City, Di Lusso District
Nizamrak Building Penthouse, “The Loft”
Sofftem 21, 4664 Tradestandard date

Atop the Nizamrak Building, over two hundred stories aboveground, Luc Saint-Cyr stepped out of his long black hoversine into the cool breeze of an autumn night. He drew in a deep breath of crisp, clean air, blew it all out, and rolled his shoulders. Up here, the hustle and hubbub of the city faded. The quiet whoosh of traffic faded into the background.

While his android driver docked the hoversine with the rest of the fleet, Luc took three steps to the railing. The cool, damp breeze, heavy with the scent of rain, blew up the sheer sides of the building and buffeted his skin. Tarth City lay below in all its splendor, lights ablaze in every direction all the way to the horizon. Their glow cast a white sheen against flat clouds so close he could almost reach them. He closed his eyes, listening to the muffled roar of a sleepliner docking far off at the starport to the west. To the east, a rumble of thunder began and rolled overhead, threatening storms.

Luc gripped the handrail and braced himself against it, arms stiff, head down. No matter how late he worked, when he returned, the empty penthouse taunted him with memories. Some nights, it was all he could do to get out of the car. It had only been three weeks.

You’d think Wulf died. His heart ached as if he had. He shook his head, taking another sighing breath. Luc shoved himself away from the railing and trudged toward the Loft. You were lovers for five years. Give yourself time, old man. You’ll get over him. Maybe you’ll fall in love again someday. You’re immortal. Wulf isn’t. It would have happened eventually. You’ll get over him. After all, you have plenty of time.

Outside the entrance, he stopped, fingertips against his brow. He lifted his head, straightened his shoulders, and opened the door.

“Good evening, sir,” McDoth greeted him. The android butler bowed politely, his black-and-white uniform immaculate. “Welcome home. How was your day?”

“The usual, McDoth.” He shrugged out of his coat. “Busy, but accomplished nothing.”

The android took his coat and draped it across one arm. “Shall I see to your dinner, sir? Or did you eat at your club?”

“Not hungry, but thank you.” He headed for the bar and picked up a fresh bottle of Kelthian whiskey. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Very well, sir.” McDoth, the referee serving Luc as a butler in this lifetime, offered him a glass, but didn’t release it until Luc met his steady gaze. “I miss him as well.”

Luc swallowed, tongue jammed hard against the back of his teeth. When he could trust his voice, he cleared his throat. “Don’t worry over him. He’s made his choice. He has a new life.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.”

Luc grunted. “Well, stop it. I’m fine. I’m over him.”

“I’ve served you too many lifetimes not to know when you’re lying. And I will worry over you if I wish. Please” -- McDoth released it -- “use the glass.”

Luc turned away, smiling despite himself. But in his room, he set the glass on the dresser and carried the bottle to his canopied bed. He sat on the end of it, refusing to face the man in the mirror across from him.

He opened the whiskey, tilted it up and drank half, wiped his chin, and grimaced. No alcohol affected him; he drank it for the memories of the people he’d loved and the times they’d shared. Luc wiped the top of the bottle with the heel of his hand and finished off the rest in two big gulps. Might as well have been tea. Nothing.

Drawing back the bottle in one hand, he paused and then hurled it at the mirror above his dresser. Glass shattered.

Small portals at the bottom of the walls immediately opened and cleaner-bots rolled out. Luc crunched the glass underfoot as he walked over and picked up a framed flatpic of Wulf and himself.

Five years! Luc blew bits of glass off the frame. Where did it go wrong? How did I let this happen? He shook himself, tucked the picture into the top drawer. You’ve got to stop brooding, old man. Channel it into work. That’s what you need to do. Keep focused. You can’t lose control like this. Stay focused. Stay -- His eyes stung, and he shut them and pressed his thumb and fingers against the lids.

He turned toward the bed, cast off his clothing, and kicked it into a pile. Gone was the Luc Saint-Cyr who folded everything neatly and set it aside. Wulf’s constant chaos had worn off on him, and he’d taken to shedding his clothes in quick order to meet Wulf in the center of the bed.

Oh God. He clenched both fists, aching at his loss. Why didn’t I see how unhappy he was? How did I ruin everything?

Luc grabbed one of the pillows from Wulf’s side and tugged it beneath his chest, pulled another close to his face. Remember how he felt in your arms. Never let yourself forget, no matter how many centuries you live. His hot mouth linked with yours. His cock, hard within your fist. His body open and willing. Begging for you. Remember how he trusted you.

Luc reached down and gripped his own hard cock the way Wulf had. Emotionally exhausted, his mind drifted off to another haunting dream of Wulf at his side.

His lover knelt, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and pulled, a hand beneath Luc’s balls, fondling them as they tightened.

“Wulf!” Luc threw his head back, air hissing over clenched teeth. “Yes.” He bucked his hips, thrusting deeper into his lover’s throat. “Gonna come. So close. So close -- oh, God!” Thighs spread, body shaking, fists clenched, Luc growled as Wulf continued to suck, pulling back to tease his slit, dipping his tongue into it, pulling out to lick around the rim, and then swallowing him whole again, driving him to the edge.

Wulf gripped Luc’s hips and pulled him closer, filling his own throat with cock. He swallowed, squeezed with his throat, tonguing the vein on the underside.

Luc bowed his back. “Oh, yes! Take it, Wulf. Take it now.”

Wulf released the head with a wet pop. “No.” He pushed himself to his feet.

On the verge of coming, a bone-rattling shudder cost Luc his balance. He’d have fallen if not for Wulf’s strength keeping him upright. Confusion and frustration rolled over Luc in equal waves, his body so close to the peak he shook, hands fisted. Anger swept over him.

Wulf stepped back.

Luc grabbed Wulf by both arms, yanked him closer. “No t-time to tease!” He fisted a hand in Wulf’s dark hair and took his mouth, tasting his own precum.

Wulf set both hands against his chest and shoved Luc back. “I said no!” He danced backward. “You only want me ‘cause I suck cock the way you like it. ‘Best I’ve ever had,’ you told me. But any mouth will do.” Wulf pointed at him. “You’re immortal. Once you get it up it doesn’t go down until you’ve ravished me -- and anyone else you can ram your prick into.”

Balls tight, full, aching, his cock rigid, Luc clamped his jaws shut. He stumbled forward and wrapped both hands around Wulf’s face. “N-not true. Love you.” Full sentences were beyond him, his body betraying his usual control. “Fuck. Now.”

“No.” Wulf pulled away and turned his back, arms folded across his chest. “I was never enough for you. Never. You were never faithful to me.”

“No!” Luc turned Wulf to face him. “Only you. Make you happy. You. No one else. No one.”

“But I’m not enough, am I?” The poignancy in his tone tore at Luc’s heart. “You need more than I can give. I want to be everything to you, but I can’t. I’m mortal. I can never give as much as an immortal needs to take. The moment you come you’re hard again, wanting it.” He flattened both hands against his own chest. “I can’t keep up, Luc. I can’t keep trying.”

“Wulf…” He ran his hands down Wulf’s arms, held his hands. “I was selfish. I can be satisfied with less. I know I can. Forgive me. Let me try again.”

“No, damn it!” Wulf jerked his hands free and backstepped. “I don’t want to be the ‘less’ you satisfy yourself with! Don’t you get it? I want to be your all.” Wulf’s dark gaze lowered. “You let other lovers do things you never let me.”

“You were never less. It was me. I was selfish. Demanding.” The dream shifted, and the two were in Luc’s huge canopied bed, Wulf beneath him with the velvet friction of their cocks against one another. It felt so right, so perfect. They fit together, two halves of one whole. “See how good this feels? I can make it good for you again. I can love you, Wulf. Fulfill you. Come back to me.”

“No.” With both hands, Wulf pushed against Luc’s chest again. “It isn’t the sex! Don’t you get it? You took more and more of my heart, but it was never enough.” He tossed his head. “Let me up. I want to go.”

“Wulf, let me try one more time. I can make you happy.” Luc leaned down to kiss him.

Wulf pushed Luc off him, sat up, and stared down at him, brows crinkled, brown-eyed gaze full of pain. “Did your other lovers fuck you?”

Luc tried to turn away, hide his face.

Wulf was having none of it. “Look at me, damn it!” He leaned closer, his gaze searching Luc’s. “I have a right to know. Did they fuck you?”

Luc released a groan of pain. “Yes.”

“Did you like it? Want it?”

Luc closed his eyes.

“Open your eyes, damn it!” Wulf gripped Luc’s face with one hand, his brown eyes narrowed, hard as flint. “Answer me. Did you enjoy it? Was it what you wanted? To be fucked?”

“Yes, damn it. I enjoyed it. How’s it affect us?”

“You never let me fuck you.”

“You…you were such a natural sub. I never thought… When I needed that, I went to others.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” He let go of Luc’s face and sat back. “What made you think I wouldn’t want to fuck you? I’d have used any kind of toy you wanted. I’d have learned to whip you like you did me, if that’s what you wanted. I’d have given you anything, Luc. Anything. I loved you!”

Luc laid a hand against Wulf’s smooth chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wulf shook his head, covering his face in both hands. When he met Luc’s gaze, only anger showed. “What I wanted didn’t matter! Every time I tried to talk about sex, you shut me up with kisses. We never talked about anything. Once you got a hard-on, there was no reasoning with you. Did you ever think I might get tired of always submitting to what you wanted? Never having a choice about what we’d do?”
Wulf scooted off the bed and faded into the darkness.

“No!” Luc followed. Bleak shadows swallowed him. As blind as if he’d been stripped of his contact lenses, he reached out with both hands, turning in a slow circle. “Wulf! Come back. Things will be different. I swear. I didn’t know how you felt. Let’s talk.”

No answer.

“Wulf!” His voice echoed in the darkness. Luc choked as if a black velvet fist smothered him, and he fell to his knees, naked, lost, alone. “Wulf? Wulf!” Luc dragged his fingers through his hair. “Please. Please come back! Give me another chance to love you. I can submit to you. I will submit. I swear it.”

Fair skin glowed in the darkness as Wulf came toward him. “I don’t want to be the master. Learn to listen to me. Give me a turn now and then. I want to be all you need. If you share your needs with me, give me a chance to fulfill you, I know I can do it.” Wulf knelt, took Luc’s hands in his. “Please. Let me try. I can make you happy. I know I can.”

“God, yes! Come back. Give me one more chance. Let me prove it. Come back to bed right now and fuck me.”

In a flash, they were on the bed, Wulf straddling him.

Heat roared through Luc, straight up his shaft, into his body.

Wulf gripped Luc’s wrists and lifted his arms over his head, pinning him to the bed. “When I’m finished you’re gonna realize what you missed.” Wulf bent and slanted his mouth across Luc’s, tongue sweeping inside.

Luc accepted the warmth of his kiss, chests together, the rapid thud-thud-thud of Wulf’s heart beating against him. The kiss deepened.

Wulf lavished attention on his mouth, licking every corner, circling his tongue, and licking Luc’s lips. He moved between Luc’s thighs. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”
Luc allowed Wulf to help him, so lost in bliss Luc could not think past the ecstasy of having him back in his bed.

“You’re not ready for me.” He nudged his cock at Luc’s hole. “You’re resisting. I don’t want to hurt you.” Wulf’s image faded around the edges, ghostlike.

“No!” Luc grabbed him by the waist. “Stay with me. Don’t go! I don’t care if it hurts.” Luc shoved against him, wiggling his ass. “Let me show you how sorry I am I ever hurt you.”

“Your pain can’t make up for mine.”

“I wish it could! I’d beg you to hurt me, make me suffer. Take me, Wulf. Any way you want. Use me.”

Wulf rocked against him again.

Luc bit back a groan of pleasure-pain. The sight of his own dark hands on Wulf’s light-skinned thighs sent him higher. Everyone stared at them wherever they went. Darkness and light. The beast walking proudly with his beauty. “Wulf! I…oh…I love you. Love you.”

Wulf spit in his hand, slicked it over his cock, and shoved in an inch. Out, back in, increasing penetration with each rock of his hips. “Feel my cock? Feel me inside you? Is this what you want? I can give you this whenever you want it.” Wulf breached him fully on the fifth thrust.

“Fuck me harder. Make me feel alive. I was your lover. I was supposed to know what you needed. I swear, baby. I swear this time it’ll be different. Stay with me.” He hooked one leg around Wulf’s waist, rolled the other thigh outward, tightening his channel.

Wulf slammed into him, hard, and wrapped both hands around Luc’s cock, slicking the precum over his skin, stroking, hands wet. “I love you, Luc. I never wanted anyone but you.”

Luc’s own climax rose so fast, so hard, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg to slow down. Waves of pleasure rolled over him, drowning him with heat as Wulf drove into him and squeezed and milked his cock. Arcs of hot semen covered Luc’s chest and belly. Waves of sensation reached down to his toes, out to his fingers. He arched his neck.

“Oh, God, Wulf. Yes. Yes. Yes…”

Opening his eyes, Luc lay motionless for a moment, so drained by his climax he couldn’t speak. He rolled over and sat up, smeared and sticky with semen.

Alone. Again. Still.

Wulf had never been there. Every night, every dream, Wulf gave him a different excuse for leaving him. They’d had no closure, no final good-byes, no reasons given. All he had to go on were guesses and fears. They hadn’t spoken about their breakup at all, moving through their lives as if nothing had occurred other than living arrangements. Luc covered his face. Did I fail at everything? Did I do nothing right?

He rolled out of bed, entered the bathroom, and stood, hands braced on the black marble counter, refusing to lift his head. Smears of semen coated his chest and belly. When he finally faced himself in the mirror, he stared long and hard into the solid black obsidian eyes. The sheen of sweat covered his dark skin. He curled his wide mouth in a sneer.

“You stupid, stupid bastard. You threw him away. You shoved him out of your life!” He slammed his fist into the face in the mirror; glass cracked and shattered into the marble sinks.

“Sir, here, here.” McDoth appeared at his side. “Let me get you cleaned up.” The android pulled him away and walked him into the glass-enclosed shower. “You’re covered in a dust of glass and blood.”

Luc stood in the center of the shower, letting the various nozzles cascade hot water over him. There’s not enough water in the empire to wash away this pain. I can’t shed enough blood to make it right.

“Your fist and feet are bleeding, sir. There’s glass everywhere.” McDoth pulled up a handheld nozzle and took Luc’s right hand. “Let’s get this glass out of your knuckles and then I’ll work on your feet. We’ll get some triefan on them and get you healed up in no time.”

“No.” Luc shook his head. Droplets of water flew in every direction. “Don’t heal me. I want it to hurt. I need it.”

A short pause. “Very well, sir. Let’s get rid of the glass so it doesn’t endanger anyone. The droids weren’t through picking up the pieces from the dresser mirror, apparently.”

Dressed in his butler’s uniform, McDoth knelt and lifted each of Luc’s feet in turn, tending him as if he were a wounded animal.

“McDoth.”

The butler moved out of the direct spray and shielded his eyes from the water as he looked up. “Sir?”

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t do this again. I --” Luc shook his head. “I’m so lost without him.”

“I know.” The butler stood, supported him as he got out of the shower. After toweling him dry, McDoth wrapped Luc in a thick white robe and escorted him back to the bedroom. One of the house-droids had already remade the bed. McDoth held his robe for him as Luc crawled into the clean bed.

Luc grabbed the android’s hand. “I won’t do this again, McDoth. I promise. I mean it this time. I will never do this again.”

McDoth patted his hand, his smile reassuring.

Drawing back his hand, Luc compared it to the other; it was already healed as if never damaged. A Sempervian’s pain never lasted -- except in his heart.

The android covered him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I put your robe at the end of the bed, should you need it. The droid crew will replace the mirrors in the morning. Bit of a routine thing for them lately. Don’t give it another thought.” McDoth went to the door and paused, turned back. “Try to sleep, sir. It’s hours before you have to rise.” He shut off the lights as he left.

Luc lay on his back, one arm folded over his eyes. Why did Wulf leave me? What did I do? He rolled onto his side, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. Faint light shone at the bottom of the door, two small dark areas showing McDoth’s feet where he stood guard.

One-handed, Luc removed his black lenses and cast them aside. The dark of full blindness suffocated, as real as the pain in his heart.

*

Di Consueto District
Renyoj Building

His room in the Renyoj Building sounded cavernous. Lucsondis Entertainment put them up in posh places wherever Kumwhatmay toured, always top-of-the-line. Izzorah Ceeow flung himself onto his bed and spread arms and legs wide. “This bed’s huge!” He ducked as his cousin landed next to him.

“Sure is.” Fletch threw himself across Izzorah and scraped knuckles against his head.

Laughing, Izzorah shoved him and rolled off the bed to bounce away. Fletch immediately gave chase and Izzorah went down in a flying tackle. He heard the lamp pitch off the table and stretched his body, flung out both hands and caught it before it hit the floor.

“Good catch!” Fletch crawled over to him, breathing heavily with exertion.

“You almost broke it!” Izzorah sat up, knelt, and lifted the lamp back to the table.

“Did not.” Fletch gave him a playful shove.

“Did.” He shoved back.

The door opened. The scent of Kory’s cologne filled the room. “Knock it off, you two!” The lead singer for Kumwhatmay, Kory Askkot shepherded the group. “The rest of us are tryin’ to sleep. Go to bed!”

“Sorry, Kory.” Izzorah stood, brushed off his clothes. “We were goofing around.”

Fletch climbed to his feet. “Sorry we woke you up.”

Kory made a sniffing sound. “Man, somebody’s deodorant stopped working.”

Fletch sat on the end of the other bed. “Can’t be mine. I don’t wear human crap.”

The door clicked shut, and grumbling followed as Kory scuffed his slippers across the tile floor, heading back to bed.

Izzorah grabbed a pillow and flung it at Fletch.

His cousin yelped, jumped up, and whirled toward him. “Hey!”

“I told you to wear deodorant, Fletch. You gotta fit in.”

“Aw, geez. I’ll smell like a human. I’ll stink.”

“You stink now. Use mine. Our cousin Chynk picks it up for me. Some kind of crystal you wet and rub under your arms. No smell.” Izzorah flicked one ear toward the door. No sound from the other room.

“Kory’s a skik, huh?” Fletch brushed himself off.

“He is not!” He shrugged. “Humans don’t play much. But he’s right. We need to go to sleep.”

“Nervous about tomorrow?”

“Can’t help it.” Izzorah dragged the claws of both hands back through his hair. “This time, our contract signing will be with Luc Saint-Cyr himself.”

“The Man, huh?” Fletch sat down, facing him from the other bed. “He has android eyes.”

Izzorah yawned. “Nah. He wears solid black contacts covering his whole eye.”

“You met him?”

“Only heard. But I met Wulf Gabriel last year, when we signed our first contract.”

“Who’s he?”

“He runs Lucsondis for Mr. Saint-Cyr.” Izzorah peeled down the covers and crawled underneath. He punched the pillow and pulled it under his chest. “They were lovers until a few weeks ago. Everybody’s talking about it. It’s all over the news. I feel sorry for both of ‘em. They get no privacy.”

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

Izzorah covered a yawn and listened to the water running. It finally shut off, and the door opened, then shut. Footsteps crossed the floor and Fletch climbed into the other bed. The light dimmed.

Fletch’s voice came out of the dark. “Kumwhatmay know you like guys yet?”

“No. I don’t get involved with fans. We don’t really talk about sex.”

“How about the other thing?”

“Which one?”

Fletch rustled the covers as he turned over. “Your eyes.”

“No clue.” Izzorah lifted his head and angled his face toward his cousin’s voice. “Which is why you’re here. They can’t find out, Fletch. Not after all I’ve been through.”

“You’ve hidden it two years. Maybe ya oughta tell ‘em.”

“No. There are nights when all I think about are the ways I could screw up. I go over every detail of the set, every part of the stage. I break into a cold sweat, worrying. But meeting new people in a new place, that’s got me so wound up I can hardly breathe.”

“Hey, I got your back.” Fletch knelt between the beds. “No way I’m gonna let anything happen to you tomorrow.”

Izzorah let out a long breath. “Thanks, keet-sah.”

“You haven’t called me keet-sah since you learned the Etymis word was cousin.”

“Sorry, popped out.”

“Felis is your cradle language. You’re Kin. Not like you could hide pointy ears, claws, and fangs. Why hide your language?”

“Not tryin’ to be human. I wanna blend in. Hate being stared at.” Izzorah punched the pillow as he snuggled into the bed. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Is Tark bringing his family?”

A pang of sadness made Izzorah sigh. “Nah. His divorce went through while we were on the last leg of the tour.”

“Oh, man. Suuuuucks!”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head. “Nobody else has anybody. You’re the only family who’ll be there.”

Fletch made a sound from across the room, and Izzorah snapped his head toward him. He hadn’t heard Fletch move. Water splashed into a glass, gulping and a belch followed, then the clink of glass. Footsteps padded back to bed.

“G’nite, keet-sah.” Fletch lay down. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a great day.”

Izzorah turned onto his side. How much longer can I keep this up before the group figures out I’m almost blind? I can’t even keep track of one person that I know, let alone a roomful of strangers!

He braced an arm across his churning stomach. Have to sleep. Gotta be my best tomorrow. He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched. Sleep, Izzy! Sleep!

After a few minutes, Fletch mumbled in his sleep and started snoring.

Sighing, Izzorah sat up and hung his head in his hands. What’s the use? I’m way too wound up. He headed for the shower.

Izzorah slicked himself down with his cousin’s soap and shampoo. On the road, there was never time to pick up anything. At least Kin soap didn’t have smells in it. All the flowery, generic hotel stuff stank, but it was all he had, unless one of his cousins sent him a care package.

He turned up the heat and turned his back, head tilted down so the hot water could soothe the tension in his neck and shoulders. He lathered shampoo into his pelt, a thick band of fur covering the upper part of his chest above his nipples and up to the collarbone.

Human girls loved to play with it, but other than enjoying cuddles and kisses, he went no further with fans. Let the others take on as many females as they wanted; no way Izzorah was letting on to Kumwhatmay he preferred guys. On his homeworld, the simple admission would get him killed. Maybe it was no big deal on Tarth, but if it got out to his Kin fans… He groaned and shook his head.

I’m no freer here than I was back home. Maybe if I let myself be seen with another guy in public… Yeah, right. Half the followers of Kumwhatmay are Kin. Kory would kill me if I screwed up the group, and then where’d I be? A drummer with no band, that’s where. He lifted his face to the water and let it wash away the sting forming in his eyes.

He rinsed his hair and skin, and smoothed his hands down his body. He wrapped one hand around his sahm. Cock, he corrected himself, forcing the Etymis word into his mind.

They were back on Kelthia after the last concert, and while the rest of Kumwhatmay partied with women, Izzorah hid out in his dressing room, claiming jump lag. He leaned against the door and slid down it to the floor.

Alone. Again. Still.

What I really want, I’ll never have. No human is ever going to want a submissive Kin lover. The images he’d seen on sex vids, of being taken -- not in cruelty, but with power, with concern -- yet taken, used, and toyed with like a precious, valued pet, made Izzorah groan, aching for such a fantasy to come true, if only for a night…

Out of nowhere, a human male gripped both Izzorah’s arms and pulled him to his feet in one move, pinioning him to the wall like a trophy, hands at shoulder level, one massive thigh between Izzorah’s.

Snarling, Izzorah released claws and bared fangs, but the man stayed out of reach. It was dark, and none of his features showed. Against this kind of strength and at such an angle, Izzorah had no defense. He forced his claws fully from their sheaths but could not reach skin. Grunting with effort, he growled like a warrior.

“I won’t hurt you.” A whiff of mint revealed the human’s amusement at his efforts, but there was no scent of enjoyment. Whoever he was, the man meant him no harm. “Not unless you want it.”

With abrupt resignation, Izzorah ceased fighting and rested his head against the wall. He gulped air, sheathing his claws.

“Very, very good. Obey, and you have nothing to fear from me.”

A hint of bread baked with cinnamon wafted into the air. Contentment? Why? ‘Cause I stopped resisting? I obeyed?

Naked, helpless in the man’s hands, Izzorah shivered despite the heat roaring through his body. He heard himself panting, felt the stretch of his cock thickening, balls heavy. He lowered his ears in submission, his gaze down in respect. One did not meet a warrior’s gaze without permission, and what was this man if not a warrior on his world?

“Hands above your head.” The deep timbre of the man’s voice sounded the way velvet felt on the fingertips.

The man gripped his wrists while Izzorah slid his hands upward. It opened his chest, spread him flat against the wall, and arched him toward the human. Like most Kin, Izzorah’s furskin was golden-hued, and the thick, almost-manelike swath of the pelt on his chest matched. His chest rose and fell, a cross between fear and desire making him pant.

The man held both Izzorah’s wrists with one hand and hovered the other over his chest. At last, he petted Izzorah’s thick pelt. “Kitten soft.” The man’s scent deepened to paper so hot it smoldered; his lust bordered on pain. “Seeyoo, te ahsgah tsoh. Teehh ke tu kahta vahss.”

Hearing his own language spoken, Izzorah jerked up his head.

Good, my male beauty, the man had said, using a formal term no rapist would use, and then, give me your eyes here. Does he mean “look at me”?

Izzorah did as told, but darkness hid the man’s eyes completely, as if they were solid black against black skin.

The man linked their fingers and leaned into Izzorah’s body. Black gloves covered the hands holding him captive. The fabric of the man’s coat and pants felt smooth yet rough at the same time. Big, big man. Tall as a Kin and muscled enough to prove he had the strength of one.

“Show me your fangs.”

Flashing fangs at a Kin was an insult; humans didn’t know any better.

Izzorah bared them, licked the sharp points, which usually scared bullies off.

Not this man. “Seeyoo, good. You have perfect fangs. You could bite and make me feel it.”

Izzorah opened his mouth wider and hissed a warning, but the man’s scent of lust deepened, and he merely flexed his fingers.

“Seeyoo. Seeyoo, te tsoh dhoksi.” Good. Good, my beautiful lover.

Wrinkling his nose, Izzorah drew in this man’s scent. Clean, sweet truth. He really thinks I’m beautiful? He wants me for his lover?

“Now your claws, dhoksi. I want to feel them against my hands. Pierce the gloves.”

Even a human should know better. In battle, a Kin’s claws could penetrate bone. He let them out of their sheaths and did as asked. Gently.

The man hissed with pleasure; desire emanated from every pore.

It brought Izzorah’s cock to full readiness, drew up his balls, and sent a flush of heat throughout his body. He made no attempt to free himself. He was safe with this man. But why? How can I be safe when I’ve been assaulted, held captive, imprisoned between the wall and my attacker?

Because the man’s scent held passion, joy, and no menace or threat.

“Stand on tiptoe and give me your mouth.” The deep voice caressed, soothed. “I’m going to taste you.”

Izzorah tilted back his head and rose on tiptoes to obey. He pulled back his tongue at the smoothness of the human’s, not barbed and scratchy like a Kin’s.

The man released his hands, cupped both of his around Izzorah’s face, and bent forward, angling his head to slant his mouth over Izzorah’s. A kiss of power. Relentless energy. Savage in need, but not in the way he kissed. The softest mouth, bold, taking, claiming every part of him, yet tender, as if he feared Izzorah would break if he kissed too hard.

Gripping the man’s jacket with both hands, Izzorah dug in claws to pull him closer, used one hand to open the coat and bring their chests together. Silk against furskin. At the feel of ripped muscle beneath the shirt, Izzorah pulled the cloth up and out of the pants, ran both hands over smooth, human skin, the ridged abs hard and defined. No velvet covering like a Kin -- only a crisp tangle of short curls in the middle of his naked chest, trailing downward to pants and a belt.

The man wrapped both arms around Izzorah and cupped his hands beneath thighs, lifting and pulling him close. “Wrap your legs around my waist. I want your cock against mine.”

Izzorah gave a moaning whimper, unable to resist whatever this man wanted, whatever he demanded, whatever he wished.

The powerful human braced both knees between Izzorah’s thighs and kept on kissing as he ground their cocks against one another through his clothes. The merging of their mouths and sliding cocks filled every thought, every sense, every aspect of Izzorah’s being, sheltering him in a warm cocoon of pleasure.

Izzorah nibbled the man’s mouth, tasting blood drawn by fangs, sweet and buttery tasting with desire, his passion a honeyed cream. Izzorah couldn’t catch his breath. He’d always dreamed it would be like this.

The man stepped back and let him down. Curling one knuckle beneath Izzorah’s chin, he bent to kiss him. “I’ll see you soon.” He added another small kiss and turned to go.

“No!” Izzorah gripped his hand. “Don’t leave me. Who are you? How can I find you?”

A glimmer of even, white human teeth flashed in the darkness. “I’m your destiny. Your warrior. I’ll find you.” He stepped back, disappearing into the darkness.

“No!” Izzorah pushed open the shower door. The brightly lit room showed the locked bathroom door. “But…but it was so dark…” Had he been asleep in the shower? Three quick raps made him jump. “Who is it?”

“Who do you think? It’s Fletch.” His cousin knocked again. “Come on, keet-sah. Kory’s bitching about it’s time to leave, and I need to pee.”

“Leave?” Izzorah ran both hands through his hair. “Hang on a minute.” He turned the water off, flipped the door switch, and grabbed a towel.

“‘Bout time. I was dancing out there. You been in here forever. What you doin’, keet-sah? Ohnahmeeyana?” The toilet flushed.

“No, I’m not whacking off.” His cock felt as limp as if he’d already come. Could a fantasy make me come without me…?

“You get any sleep at all?”

“I was practicing,” Izzorah lied. He dried his face and ruffled a towel through his hair. “I got in the shower a few minutes ago.”

“One of these days, you’ll pull an all-nighter and fall asleep at the wrong time.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. Never missed a concert yet.”

“Whatever.” Fletch double-checked his smooth chin in the mirror. “I’m going to the lobby. Get dressed and meet us down there. Turn right when you come out of the room, and the elevator’s ten steps on the right. I’ll watch for you.”

“Wah doh.” Thank you.