Chapter 22
KERIK
As soon as the convoluted dinner is over, Perl takes his leave quickly and they both rush back to Perl’s chambers. When the door is warded closed they fall upon the bed, entangled together, kissing and laughing in triumph. Another test passed.
Kerik pulls back from the kiss and says, “I should have sucked your cock in front of her sooner. I’ve never seen your Queen so happy with us.”
Perl looks up at Kerik. His face is sweetly flushed. “I don’t know why that worked so well. I was afeared she would never grant my boon even if you passed all her tests, but I have truly never seen her so delighted.”
“She enjoyed seeing you spend,” Kerik says with a sly twitch of one eyebrow. “I told you, she desires you.”
Perl shakes his head against the bed’s silken cushions. For a moment all Kerik can think of is kissing him again. So he does and it's a few long moments of his tongue in Perl’s cool mouth and Perl’s sweet moans of want, before Perl pulls his head away and says, “Why would you think so?”
Kerik sits back on his heels, straddling Perl, looking down at him. “Look at what she’s done for you.” He counts off on his fingers. “Started a war with her sister over you. Hid you away. And she keeps demanding you fuck me in front of her.”
“A lot of fae enjoy watching thralls being mastered.”
Kerik snaps out an arm and grasps Perl by the jaw.
He feels Perl’s chest move as he gasps. “Don’t lie to me,” he says in a seductive snarl that he knows will ruin Perl.
Perl shakes his head in Kerik’s grip, “That is hardly fair. And you know I cannot lie to you.”
Kerik smiles. It’s really quite delightful to see Perl so conflicted. He can tell Perl wants to give in and lose himself in the bliss of obeying Kerik’s every command, but he loves keeping his secrets even now. Kerik waits, watching Perl wrestling with himself.
Eventually he says, “She has feelings for me only because of who I remind her of. My mother was her lover, Irmeena. That is the reason she has done so much to protect me. I believe she loves me, in a way. I am all she has left of Irmeena after Sefi executed her. She has done much for me. I owe her everything.” Perl’s voice drops low. “But I will betray her. I must.”
Perl’s confession is more heartfelt than Kerik expected.
He struggles to rectify Perl’s statement about Exeinil and all he knows of how much she did to protect Perl, even taking Vane as her hostage, bound to Vylenor, with the sadistic, mercurial creature he has encountered.
He supposes she could only mean to protect Perl, the tainted son of her dead lover.
“But she has done such terrible things. She lowered you with iron. She condemned your father to the vile cage.”
“When I was her ward and she claimed the rumours about my parentage were the work of Sefi and the Timeless Court to undermine Ulla, she outlawed all talk of it. But I ruined all that when I was caught with Seridil. Which confirmed for many that the rumours were true. She punished me so harshly, I suspect in part, because of how I had upset her plans to redeem me.”
“I see,” says Kerik.
Perl is looking at him with glassy eyes and he thinks he ought to do something to make him feel sweet instead of weighted down with thoughts of his shame and the debts he owes to the faeries who protected him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Kerik says.
“What wasn’t?” says Perl in a tone that suggests that he considers everything he has spoken of to be his fault.
“It wasn't your fault who your father was. Or the circumstances of your birth. You didn’t cause the schism between Oria and Ulla, or the reasons Exeinil took Vane hostage to protect you. It’s not your fault your parents sired you, no matter how everyone involved wishes you to bear the shame of it.”
Perl looks at Kerik for a long time. His eyes are strange. There’s a softness in them Kerik doesn’t think he has ever seen before. Eventually, quietly, Perl says, “Thank you.”
Kerik leans down and kisses Perl sweetly on the lips. He desperately wants Perl, but he keeps this kiss chaste and slow.
When he pulls back he says, voice husky with want even from the restrained kiss, “Did you enjoy it? When I sucked you?”
“I suppose so,” Perl says. “In a way.”
“But there is something you would prefer to do?”
“Right now?”
“Are you questioning me, thrall?”
Perl bites his lip. Kerik knows Perl is conflicted and considering that he should not allow this.
He should tell Kerik again that he made a vow.
But Kerik can see that is all unravelling.
Perl is powerless to resist this. Even Zai himself could not stop what is bound to happen as surely as if it was fate.
“Take your clothes off,” Kerik says, surprised at how dark and husky his voice sounds. “Show me the body I get to use as your Master.”
Perl obeys. He gets up from the bed, stands before Kerik as he lies, reclining like an emperor, watching Perl reveal every part of his delicate pale skin for Kerik’s delight.
When Perl is naked, Kerik says, low and dark, “Come here thrall. Offer yourself to me.”
He waits for Perl to refuse. To say no or mention his vow, but he does not. He looks like he cannot. He looks like he is compelled, too addled with lust to do anything but obey Kerik. Too desperate for the deep relief of indulging his forbidden desires.
As soon as Perl steps close enough to the bed that he is within Kerik’s reach, Kerik pulls him down, hands on his shoulders, twisting his body as he draws him in, throwing him down on his back.
It's a matter of moments for Kerik to shed his hip cloth and then they are kissing, both naked, mouth to mouth and skin to skin. Kerik presses his body down on Perl’s beneath him, revelling in the cool smooth feeling of Perl’s body, like living marble.
Kerik takes his sweet time undoing Perl.
Ruining him very precisely. He kisses his mouth and then his chin.
His neck where the skin is rough and red.
His chest and belly. He drops a single kiss on the wet head of Perl’s hard cock, which is elegant and slender, almost refined compared to Kerik’s own.
Which is also hard, insistent between Kerik’s thighs and Kerik knows just where that cock is going to thrust and spend before this night is over.
‘Turn over, thrall,” Kerik hisses in Perl’s ear. “Turn over for your Master’s pleasure.”
Kerik moves back a little to allow Perl to obey, but not so much that he doesn’t feel it as Perl moves under him, shivering with desire, skin slipping over skin as his breathing grows ragged.
Perl is so smooth and pale, where Kerik is darker and the skin of his limbs and chest is dense with hair.
The small amount of hair Perl has on his body is pale as moonlight, shimmering in the centre of his chest and at the join of his thighs.
When Perl is on his belly, displayed, Kerik leans away to take him in. The curve of his spine, the dark lines of the places where his wings lie, the sensuous rounding of his ass.
Kerik cannot stop himself. He uses a hand to spread Perl open, exposing his hole, small and pale pink, a delicate rose like his bathing pool.
As Kerik reveals him, Perl buries his head in the pillows with a soft sound, a mixture of mortification and need.
Without a word, Kerik lowers his head and runs his tongue over Perl’s hole.
He doesn’t always do this when he fucks a man, but he does when he is overcome with desire. And now his desire is so great it is like a fever.
Perl tastes like salt and earth, no different from any man. Kerik licks along the seam of him, pausing to tease at his hole, moaning deeply against it and enjoying the sounds Perl makes, gasps that become moans, moans that grow deeper, darker, needier and louder.
Kerik groans against Perl’s flesh, his hole growing warmer and he wonders how his tongue must feel to Perl. Savagely hot.
“Please,” Perl gasps out, lifting his head a little from the pillows so he can be heard.
“Please Master, fuck me. Use me for pleasure…” His words fade into breaths for a moment, before, “use my body. Any way you want to. Make me your, uh, your whore.” And then he moans, as if aroused to hear himself begging so.
Kerik moans too, feeling a great rush of desire to hear his ice faerie speak so wantonly. “Fuck you, faerie?” he says, leaning forward, letting his chest brush Perl’s body. His ass and then his back. He kisses Perl’s neck. “Is that what you want?”
“Uh,” Perl replies. Just a whiny sound, desperate. Then a gasp, “please.’
“What about your vow? Aren’t you” — Kerik pauses and moves down, kissing Perl on his spine, right in the centre of his back — “chaste?”
“No. Not now. Not since I met you,” Perl says back, words stuttering with his need.
Kerik feels a warmth inside him at that. His cock hard, blood-heavy and ready, but this is a different feeling. The deep thrill of being desired so, being so desirable that this chaste elegant faerie is reduced to such a beautiful panting mess for want of him. A desperate wet hole.
Kerik sucks his first finger briefly into his mouth, before pressing it into Perl. Perl is tight, cooler than a mortal in a way that is distinctive and arousing.
Perl moans to feel Kerik’s finger inside him, pressing back, wanting more, so greedy that Kerik slaps him on the thigh. “Patience, faerie," he says, voice a blend of arousal and amusement.
Perl looks back over his shoulder. “You’re so cruel, Master,” he says, so lilting and breathy it’s all Kerik can do not to force Perl’s face back into the silken pillows and take him fast and rough with no preparation.
But this is too important for that. Kerik has waited and wanted too long.
Instead he slides a second finger into Perl, keeping his free hand tight on Perl’s thigh as a warning to let Kerik have control. “How long?” he says, voice sounding rough, as if his cock is already inside Perl’s sweet hole. “How long since anyone fucked you?”
“You know how long,” Perl gasps back, an edge of petulance in his desperate gasping.
Kerik pulls his fingers free and slaps Perl’s ass. Hard. “How fucking long, faerie. How long has this perfect hole of yours been chaste?”
“A hundred years,” Perl sobs back. “A hundred years, Master.”
Kerik licks his fingers again and slides them back into Perl. “Nothing has been inside you for a century? You must ache.”
“Yes. Correct. Please, make me wait no longer.”
Perl presses his head deeper into the pillows and moans louder, longer and deeper, louder still when Kerik uses his fingers to stretch Perl’s spit-wet hole open further, turning his wrist, moving his fingers in a way he knows will make a man drip desire.
Kerik’s heart is beating hard. His need to take Perl growing with each little moan and needy shaking sound he makes. “You have oil, faerie?”
Perl makes a soft sighing noise and says, “In the bathing room,” then, “you don’t have to move.”
It takes Kerik a moment to realise what Perl is saying. When he does, he thinks Perl might have lost his mind to lust because Kerik thinks it quite unlikely that he can do magic now. That he can focus his will when he is so desperate to slide his cock into Perl’s hole.
And then he notices the bottle of oil is already in his hand.
He isn’t sure which of them did the magic to bring it.
But he wastes no time. Not to marvel over the usefulness of the magic, or to ask Perl how it happened.
He opens the bottle, soaks his hand in the rose-scented oil and slicks his cock.
A hundred years.
A hundred years and then him.
He moves between Perl’s thighs and mounts him.
Sliding in a single perfect glide into the strange cool tightness of Perl’s hole.
It is like no act of fucking Kerik has ever felt before.
As he presses in, right to the root of his cock, and hears Perl sob, he feels whole and right, deep inside himself.
“Not so chaste now,” he growls.
Perl shakes his head, face down against the pillows.
“Tell me.”
“Kerik Darekul…” Perl stammers, breathy.
Kerik pulls back out, almost fully, just the tip of his cock still inside. “Tell. Me. Faerie.”
“I’m not chaste,” Perl says. “Not anymore.”
Kerik slides his cock back in, slowly, to another groan of pleasure from Perl.
“Because of me.”
“Yes,” Perl arches back and something in him, all his resolve, seems to break.
“Yes, because of you, Master. Fuck me, Master. Hard, please. Break my vow.” Perl moves more frantically, pushing himself up as Kerik pulls back — chasing more.
“Break everything. Take me so hard you would break me into pieces.”
In response Kerik growls, drawing back and thrusting into Perl harder.
As hard as he can, all his strength behind it, making Perl cry out in shock as the force shifts his body up the bed.
Kerik does it again. Again and again. Both of them moaning and gasping, two sets of breath becoming more and more ragged with arousal.
It’s all animal. Kerik is fully the beast Vane claims him to be.
Kerik’s senses are full of Perl, the cries in his ears, the sight of Perl’s pale, perfect skin and the braid that snakes down his back, the scent of Perl’s sweat, like cold air at night, the feel of him, the taste of him, still in Kerik’s mouth.
Kerik feels like his whole body has come alive for the first time.
He takes hold of Perl’s braid, white hair shimmering against Kerik’s darker skin.
He pulls. He forces Perl’s head back, exposing his scarred throat to Kerik’s mouth.
Kerik kisses him there, biting hard on that reddened flesh, moaning against Perl’s body, “Faerie. My beautiful faerie, begging so sweetly to be taken roughly.”
Perl sobs. “Please, Master.”
“What do you want, faerie?” Kerik says, voice hard around gritted teeth with the effort of fucking.
“Master, may I… Please. May I spend from your cock, Master?”
Kerik’s mind floods with white pleasure. The sound of Perl’s broken voice as he begs to be allowed to spend from only the feel of Kerik inside him. “Filthy,” Kerik growls.
“Yes, Master,” Perl breathes back. “Yes, I am. I am yours, Yours to use. My pleasure is yours. May I spend for you, Master?”
Kerik thrusts forward, taking Perl a couple more times, moving deep and enjoying his whines of frustration.
“Please,” Perl sobs again.
And Kerik answers him with a snarl of, “Spend for me thrall. Spend for your Master.”
Kerik feels the jolt of Perl’s pleasure beneath him, the shuddering of his body around Kerik’s cock.
Only a moment later, Kerik spends himself, deep in Perl’s body, harder than he ever has before.