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now that they knew about it. Pandreas had been searching the archives for weeks, his bright presence missed by everyone, but he was sure the answers they needed were to be found there. Sint believed that the evil had chosen to invade through Hokonnen for a reason, and it was for he and his novitiate to figure out how to fight it together, head on. Other Curates had other theories. Sint prayed that one of them would be the right one. And so he watched over Hokonnen. It was a task he took on eagerly, his fascination and love for Hokonnen growing each day. He had one hand on Hokonnen's chest, the other over his own heart as he sank deeper into meditation, spreading the net of his love over his novitiate. Hokonnen was dreaming of dancing, head thrown back, throat working, hips undulating to a music Sint couldn't hear. It was beautiful and sensual, almost intoxicating. He found himself drawn in, mesmerized. In Hokonnen's dream, Hokonnen looked at Sint. Those bright eyes met his, lighting up. "Master. Can you hear the music?" He shook his head; he did not. "What does it sound like?" "Singing. Birds. Thousands of wild birds calling my name." "Birds? Why are they calling you?" Something seemed a little off. So many birds, all wild, all wanting Hokonnen. "They want to fly." Those bright eyes looked away, the rangy body dancing away from him. He reached for Hokonnen. "Come to me and let them fly, Hokonnen. We can watch them take to the air together." Hokonnen stepped away, the steps jerky, unnatural, as if Hokonnen's body was fighting itself. "Hokonnen!" He tried to follow his novitiate, but his feet were bogged down. It took him a moment to remember they were in a dream, which meant everything was illusion. With a gasp he pulled himself out of it, his eyes opening wide, his hand still pressed to Hokonnen's chest. Hokonnen whimpered, jerking and calling out for him. Carved from Gold - 36 "Wake, love. It's time to let the birds go and come back to me. Hokonnen. Hokonnen." He shook Hokonnen's shoulders. A whisper slid down his spine. "Ours. He is ours." "No!" He shook his head. "No," he repeated more calmly. "He is of the Gold Shard. He is ours. Mine." "We will take him, feed from him and destroy his mind." The voice was so cold. It reached down to his soul. Terrifying. Horrifying. "You will not!" He shook Hokonnen a second time, pressed his lips to Hokonnen's mouth. "Wake up. You must wake up now." Hokonnen's eyes blinked open, lips parting under his, one hand curling around his neck. Staring into Hokonnen's eyes, he searched them for his novitiate's spirit as his tongue slid into Hokonnen's mouth. His lover smiled, eyes awake and bright, staring right back into his. His own Hokonnen. With a moan of relief, he deepened the kiss, taking the flavor and breath of his novitiate into himself. Hokonnen groaned, pressed closer to him, the deep cry ringing out, pushing into his lips. "Mine." He spoke the word into Hokonnen's mouth and into his novitiate's heart. The voices could not have him, the storms could not have him. The evil could not have him. "Yes, Master. Your own." "I will have your submission today, Hokonnen." He felt an urgency to it, to moving forward in Hokonnen's training. Hokonnen frowned, but nodded. "What should I do?" "Accept me into your body." He placed a kiss on Hokonnen's lips. "Accept me into your heart." His next kiss was over Hokonnen's heart. "Accept me into your soul." He pressed his lips to the tip of Hokonnen's cock and blew into the little slit. Hokonnen jerked, stilled. "Master!" He danced the tip of his tongue across the slit and then pressed it in. "Accept my will, Hokonnen." Hokonnen whimpered, muscles tight as his lover fought the urge to pull away. Carved from Gold - 37 He alternated between blowing air Hokonnen's slit and pushing the tip of his tongue into it. All the while he willed Hokonnen to relax, to submit, lending his novitiate strength. "I... I have never. No one has touched there except to decorate me." "Until now. Trust in me, Hokonnen. Take me in." He ran his tongue around the head of Hokonnen's cock, and then played with the sensitive slit once more. He would tease a drop of pleasure out of it like this. He would. His initiate leaned back, panting, thighs twitching with sensation. He had a series of smooth rods - one tiny, one the size of a stylus, the last only slightly smaller than his pinky finger. He would teach Hokonnen this pleasure. "That's it, my own. You can trust me to push you no further than you can take, and to teach you to fly." He played a moment more, crying out with joy as a single drop beaded at the tip of Hokonnen's slit. "Yes. Yes, my own." "Master..." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |