Chapter 19 #3
“Yes,” says Perl. He doesn’t want to say this.
He is unsure how he came to be explaining all of this.
More of his mistakes. In Attar, devotees of Zai confess their sins to a walled up woman in a cell below the Sarelik Temple.
And receive in return advice and forgiveness.
Perl met her once. Perl speaks now as if he is kneeling at the metal grill to tell the Immurite of the terrible things he has done.
Heavily, he says, “A source of magical power. A way to gain power in the mortal realm where the natural magic is gone. She took a young man from Klish. Klishians, in particular, are able to store magic power in their bodies if the correct rituals are performed…” Perl’s voice falters.
He cannot bear this. The shame of it. “She wanted magic. She wanted more power. She wanted to be able to see the future. I needed a prophet. There was so much I didn’t know.
And she did terrible things to that Klishian youth. I believe it broke both of them.”
“What happened to him? This Klishian?”
Perl smiles thinly. “The Aeons had her send him to your brother Damon. Part of a binding spell to draw Damon to her. I do not know the exact working of it but I know that Klishian is now Damon’s lover.
Although the binding still holds. Damon will go to her and I think she intends for him to bring her the others. ”
Perl realises he is weeping now, tears on his face from the shame of it. The litany of his regrets.
Kerik leans over, one of his hands emerges from under the fur and he lifts it to Perl’s cheek.
It’s warm and Perl feels a great sense of rightness to feel Kerik’s flesh warmed once again.
Kerik leans closer and kisses Perl on one cheek and then the other, kisses away tears, then brings his mouth to Perl’s and kisses him there, slow and sweet.
Perl whimpers at the feeling of Kerik’s mouth on his, searingly hot.
Kerik’s tongue glides into Perl’s mouth and Perl cannot stop himself from making another sound, another whimper, even more desperate.
He kisses back, but lets Kerik have control, enjoys it.
Kerik kneels up, furs falling away from his naked body as he pushes down on Perl’s mouth, controlling the kiss as it grows deeper.
Perl is gasping under Kerik when the kiss breaks. Kerik pulls away and gazes down at him. But Perl’s voice catches. He thinks he may start sobbing again. “I am sorry. I do not think he can ever forgive me.”
Kerik shakes his head and kisses Perl again.
It’s another sweet kiss, at least, at first. But as Kerik’s lips meet his, Perl can’t help groaning.
He wants Kerik so much. He aches. It has been so long.
Kerik licks at the closed seam of Perl’s lips and Perl can only take a moment of that feeling, of Kerik’s insistent tongue, licking there, demanding entry to Perl’s mouth, before he parts his lips, another groan, as Kerik’s tongue slips into Perl’s mouth and claims him.
Perl lets Kerik push him back on the bed as they kiss. Perl on his back, still covered completely in his black leather outfit, while Kerik presses his naked body on top of him.
Kerik grinds his roused cock against Perl’s. Perl is equally roused, although held tight in his breeches. The feeling is delicious.
It shouldn’t be so. Perl dressed and Kerik naked.
But Kerik’s nudity only makes him seem more powerful, free and wild, while Perl’s body is constrained in his tight clothing.
He is helpless under Kerik, wanting nothing more than the sweet solace of his body.
An escape from all he’s done and all he is.
As they kiss, Kerik grows a little savage, making Perl gasp by nipping his tongue and then sucking Perl’s lower lip into his mouth and biting it hard. Perl moans as the pain sparkles through him, glittering sweet.
Perl is panting hard, so undone, when Kerik pulls back, moving to kiss Perl’s cheek, the sharp stubble on his skin dragging deliciously over Perl’s flesh as Kerik makes his way to Perl’s ear.
Perl is panting for it, hips jolting up to rub himself against Kerik, feeling Kerik’s teeth again, nipping and biting.
But then, suddenly, it’s too much. Perl is blinking tears from his eyes.
He shakes his head, pulling away, moaning, “No. I cannot. I am chaste. I will remain chaste until we defeat the demon. You must understand, my desires have brought me nothing but ruin. I cannot succumb to them again. Not now and certainly not here.”
Kerik looks down at Perl, a panting mess beneath him. “You don’t want this?”
Perl can barely speak. He wants to say that he doesn’t. Tell Kerik again that he can’t. That he is chaste. But he cannot. He cannot lie. “I..” he begins, swallowing before saying. “I do not deserve this. I made a vow.”
“And what does your vow of chastity involve, my sweet faerie? Surely it does not break a vow to simply get on your knees?”
Perl swallows. He wants to, more than anything. The sweet peace of submission. To quieten that voice in his head that has been screaming at him for a hundred years. “Please, I cannot.”
Kerik raises an eyebrow. “You would deny your Master?”
“Kerik you are not—”
Kerik grabs Perl by the throat. Perl gasps.
The feel of a hand about his throat rouses him like nothing else, stops him thinking like nothing else.
“But consider,” Kerik says, “surely I deserve to get my revenge on the cruel fae who has captured me and forced me to complete such vicious tests before the fae court?”
Perl shudders, says nothing.
“Get on your fucking knees, faerie,” Kerik says, moving off Perl.
Perl cannot think. Doesn’t want to. He slides off the bed, trying to be elegant as a thrall when he is nothing but a mess of need. He gets onto the chamber floor, on his knees before Kerik.
Kerik sits over him on the bed, still so gloriously, shamelessly naked, legs spread wide and roused cock jutting up between them. Wet at the tip and making Perl’s head spin with want.
Perl thinks he would do anything for this mortal. Anything he commanded now.
But Perl is surprised when Kerik says, voice raspy, “Touch yourself. Give yourself pleasure.”
“Kerik…” Perl begs again, voice a whine. But his cock is burning hard in his breeches.
“Take out your cock and touch it. I will not touch you, in respect of your vow, but I will see you spend on your knees, faerie.”
Perl shakes his head. He can feel tears prickling his eyes.
“You already have me kneeling before you.” Kneeling for a mortal thrall, Perl thinks.
There is no transgression greater. But the thought of what he is doing makes his cock leak in his breeches.
He wants to spend so desperately. He wants to spend before Kerik. Before his Master.
Kerik leans down and, taking Perl’s face in a strong possessive grip, kisses him. A deep claiming kiss, but short enough to leave Perl a gasping mess.
“Then tell me you don’t want this.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t tell me? You cannot tell me a lie?”
“Please.” Perl shakes his head.
“Then touch yourself, thrall. Spend for your Master.”
Perl knows he ought to refuse, ought to end this. To stroke his cock in front of another person. To be so close, so intimate, so submissive. It feels dangerous. So fucking sweet.
He’s too desperate, too eager to obey Kerik, to show him how grateful he is, how much Kerik’s sacrifices mean to him.
He’d do anything. Anything. And the truth of that burns through him, too powerful for him to think about anything else.
His mission. His shame. The danger of this.
His fingers are already opening his breeches and freeing his roused cock.
He moans with need as he touches himself and he is rewarded by a soft answering sound of desire from Kerik.
Pleasure, blood hot, cascades through him.
“You look so beautiful,” Kerik says, “on your knees before me, undone.”
Perl moves his hand slowly up the length of his blood-stiff cock, gliding right up to the top, twisting around the thick crown. It feels so sweet.
Kerik reaches forward and uses his thumb to open Perl’s mouth. He slips the tip between Perl’s lips. Perl groans and sucks, eyes on Kerik, thinking how good it would feel to have Kerik offer his cock instead.
Perl wants that. He cannot pretend he does not. He wants that and more. He wants Kerik to take his mouth hard, fuck his face, use him for pleasure while he kneels obediently and simply takes what Kerik chooses to give him. Thank him for it.
Sudden and sharp Perl spends in his fist, sucking down on Kerik’s thumb as wave after wave of pleasure takes him, and his seed, warm and soft, splashes onto the chamber floor between his spread thighs.
Kerik pulls his thumb back, before leaning down and taking a single brief kiss from Perl’s gasping mouth.
“You look so beautiful when you spend,” Kerik says, pulling back and touching the scar that encircles Perl’s throat. His fingertips are warm.
Perl gasps, beyond speech. It’s been so long since he let anyone else see this, anyone else so close to this achingly tender part of him.
Kerik leans close and kisses Perl’s cheek, then brings his lips to Perl’s ear, “When this is done, Perlash-zeren-ai, when you have completed your mission and wish to break your vow, I promise you, I will take you as you deserve to be taken. Tied down and screaming for me.”
Perl groans. Despite his recent spend, his cock twitches. But his mind is torn. When this is done? When he has completed his mission?
What will Kerik have to become for all of this to be done? The Magician. A mortal with the power of a fae. His mortal strength powering fae magic. And will it break his mind like it broke hers?
The chamber is scented with sex, with the smell of Perl’s spend, of his shame.
He can feel how easy it would be to be distracted by something like this, something he wants so much.
He gets to his feet on wobbly legs, “I’m sorry, I…
I should not have done that.” He tucks his cock back into his breeches and stands, looking at Kerik, mind racing with doubts and trouble.
“Stop it,” Kerik says.
“Stop what?”
“Stop telling me you're terrible and shameful and you’ll get distracted from your mission. Just be quiet. Be quiet and come to bed.” Perl blinks and does as he is bid.