Chapter 11 #2
“No.” Kylix smacked his ass and Mirel jolted. “You won’t escape from me. Let me taste you down there too.” Spreading Mirel’s thighs, he nestled himself between. His hands landed on Mirel’s ass cheeks. And then Mirel felt Kylix’s mouth probing in his crease.
“What are y-you d-d-doing?”
Kylix replied with another smack on his ass. “Silent now, and let me enjoy you.”
Mirel felt his tongue sliding across his entrance, slow at first, coaxing. But then he went inside and Mirel’s hips bucked, panic slamming through him like a sledgehammer.
Kylix moaned against his ass, causing a reverberation that made Mirel calm down. His cheek fell back against the sheets as Kylix’s hands grabbed his and kept them on both sides. He kept on licking him with fast flicks of his tongue.
“G-good Light,” Mirel mewled. His hips rocked involuntarily.
Kylix chuckled against his flesh. “Feel good, little one? You like it when I lick you down here?”
Mirel nodded into the sheet. His lips had parted and rapid puffs of air left his mouth.
Kylix’s licks had turned slower, deeper, and when Mirel felt a flash of grazing teeth, his head spun with desire.
He was going to come like this, if Kylix didn’t stop.
A hand brushed the inside of his thigh in circles that should feel reassuring but did nothing of the sort, and Kylix’s stubble teased the sensitive skin of his scrotum.
Mirel’s sound broke free, low and raw. More frost feathered the headboard, cracked, melted again. He felt both hot and cold, and yet neither prevented him from being close, so close, to his climax.
Then Kylix withdrew, lips wet, smirk sharp.
He came up, bit Mirel’s hipbone once, hard enough to mark.
“I’m going to make you come like you’ve never come before.
” Reaching out to his bedside table, he grabbed a small vial.
He tipped it over his fingers, coating them.
The scent of oil and spice filled the air.
When his slick fingers touched Mirel’s hole, the contrast made him jolt. “That’s it, little one.”
Kylix circled the entrance, patient, coaxing the muscles to yield before pressing in. The first push made Mirel arch, hiss, curse, hands twisting in the sheets.
“Wh-what are you d-doing?”
“Giving you what you need,” Kylix said.
He slid his finger deeper, slow enough that the tremor under his palm turned steady.
Mirel balked at the intrusion, but there was no escaping Kylix.
It didn’t hurt, not really. It just felt strange, tight, and a little uncomfortable.
And yet, as Kylix resumed his thrusting fingers, Mirel eased into it, and his hips started to roll on the rhythm the Imperial Prince had set.
Kylix groaned, voice torn. “You’re so tight,” he said at Mirel’s throat. “Like you were waiting for me. Were you waiting for me?”
“I-I d-don’t know.”
Kylix grinned. “Say my name.”
Mirel gasped it at last, unwilling and true. “Kylix.”
"That's right." The sound drove him faster. Their rhythm filled the room. “Good boy, opening up for me. I won’t fuck you tonight. Not yet. But I’ll make you see the stars.” He pressed a second finger in, scissoring until Mirel’s curses turned to gasps.
When Mirel’s breath came fast, Kylix poured another line of oil between them, letting it track down to where heat waited.
His fingers moved with clean precision, stretching him open until his body loosened and the anger broke on pleasure.
Mirel’s eyes burned bright, furious at himself, furious at the heat he could not refuse.
“Look at you, being so beautiful for me,” Kylix said, lowering over him. “You’re mine to satisfy. Mine to listen to.”
He crooked his fingers and Mirel cried out, back bowing. His chest flared.
Thump. Thump.
Their hearts hammered in time. He had never felt anything like it. His body felt raw and alive. Every nerve begged for more even as it shook from the shock of it.
“I-I’m close,” Mirel blurted. His toes curled from the admittance. From the pleasure raging through his insides like a snowstorm.
Kylix’s tongue dragged down Mirel’s chest, across his stomach, and then he took his cock into his mouth in one hungry motion.
“G-good… Oh, fuck.”
Kylix’s free hand stroked his thigh while his finger kept moving inside him, coaxing and claiming at once.
Mirel’s breath shattered. His mind went white under the rush of heat and wet and the obscene sounds of pleasure.
He could not stop the tremor or the helpless noise that tore out as Kylix worked him with mouth and hand, unrelenting.
When he came, it broke him open. Mirel’s howl split the air.
Kylix swallowed and moaned into it, then lifted his head and grinned. “You look sweet when you come.”
He knelt between Mirel’s thighs, his own cock slick and hard. Mirel’s eyes caught on it, held, his breath still unsteady.
“Can I touch?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Kylix smirked. “By all means, finish what you started.”
Mirel’s hand found him, unsure at first, then certain.
Kylix’s body arched into the touch, strong and beautiful.
His moans grew rough. His hips drove into the rhythm.
The sight held Mirel fixed. Heat lived behind Kylix’s eyes.
His jeweled incisor caught light as his release came hot over Mirel’s hand.
The storm ebbed. Kylix leaned into him, breath harsh, mouth finding Mirel’s in a wet, slow kiss that burned more than it soothed.
“Here. For your hand.” A damp cloth pressed into Mirel’s palm. Kylix shifted to lie beside him. “Now we sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
The room settled. The lamp hummed. The frost on the wall melted to thin streaks that ran down the paint. The bed dipped where Kylix had been. His skin still burned where Kylix had touched him. His hands trembled once, then stopped.
In the corner, the brass puffer released a thin breath of opium-scented vapor, its steady exhale perfuming the room like a quiet sentinel.
The click of a lighter broke the quiet. Kylix lit one of the red-cinder cigarettes and drew once.
The ember glowed against the dark. Smoke rose in a thin line, straight and clean.
He left it burning on the table beside the bed.
Mirel lay on his side and watched the light on the ceiling. The air smelled of oil and sweat. The warmth faded slow. The cold returned and he let it.
Outside, the city’s hum thickened. Somewhere far below, sirens rose, faint through glass and distance.
Mirel couldn’t tell if it was a patrol, a breach, or only the mechanical song of Helion shifting in its sleep.
The sound threaded through the warmth, reminding him that the night beyond this room still hunted.
Kylix would wake to it soon enough. For now, the noise faded to a rhythm, counting down the hours until morning.
He could hear Kylix breathing beside him, slow and even, the kind of calm that came after control.
Mirel turned his face toward the wall. The sheet was damp against his skin, still warm where their bodies had been.
He pulled it higher but didn’t move again.
The lamp hummed. The city outside was quiet.
His eyes stayed open, waiting for sleep that never came, until finally, he drifted off.
Sleep came in fragments. The hum of the lamp blurred with the sound of Kylix’s slow breathing.
In the corner, the puffer sighed another plume of smoke, turning the air syrup-sweet.
Mirel’s thoughts drifted, over the chain still on the floor, the faint imprint of Kylix’s fingers on his skin.
When he closed his eyes, he saw frost veins spreading under the skin of the city, thin and endless, reaching toward something he could almost name.
A light burned at the edge of it, gold and patient.
He didn’t know if it belonged to Kylix, or to what waited beyond him.
He only knew he would follow it when morning came.
The frost in his dream spread faster. Beneath it he felt the pulse of the city, mechanical, bright, wrong. When he reached for it, the light flickered once, red instead of gold. A heartbeat later, the frost shattered, and he woke to silence.