“Moondrake?” Kayluth held the fabric rope aloft. “Where did you find thiss?”
“In the back of your sock drawer. I’m surprised it took you till now to realize. I’ve been wearing it all day.”
“You were dresssed and gone early while I wass distracted with Reykoss and Raissa. Then the party and Orm’ss newss. When sshould I have noticed thiss?”
“Right now is the perfect time, my sobroke. With it, we will tie our Sundrake up so that we may do with his body as we want, as he wants.”
“Please,” Sundrake whimpered, gazing up at them and wetting his lips. “Please.”
“See how eager our boy is?” Moondrake said with his nose tucked under Kayluth’s jaw, his warm breath ghosting across the skin of Kayluth’s throat.
“Very,” Kayluth agreed. He held the rope he’d once bound Moondrake with out to Sundrake. “Around your neck.”
Sundrake passed the braided cord through his hands before flipping the middle over his head, the tails hanging down, bisecting his pecs to brush the floor in front of his knees. He loosely gripped each end as he bent forward into a deep bow. “Masters of my heart, I am yours. Your husband, mate, sobroke, guard. Order me and I will do my best to fulfill your wishes.”
The straight curve of Sundrake’s spine, his smooth skin and wide shoulders, his blond hair and paler features were the opposite of Moondrake: light to dark, sun to moon. They complemented each other with their differences, not only in looks but also demeanor. Had Sundrake’s heart hardened in response to his short imprisonment, to his treatment therein, there would never have been an “us,” a triad of kings, a Drakken Triumvirate. Moondrake would not be who he was without the man he loved, and Kayluth counted himself blessed that they both opened their hearts to accept him.
“Kay?” Moodrake caressed his cheek then tugged on a braid.
Kayluth pulled Moondrake’s tunic off his shoulders and pressed a noisy kiss to the exposed skin, just beneath his sobroke’s torque. “Hm?”
“Go tie his hands to the bed.”
Kayluth laid a new row of kisses down before responding, “Your wish is my command.” He picked up Sundrake’s curled form, showcasing his strength in a way he usually contained. His sobroke grunted, whether in surprise or discontent he didn’t know nor did it matter. Kayluth flipped Sundrake into a princess carry then laid him out on the bed, smoothing his legs to straighten them, then lifting his arms over his head. Sundrake, still holding the ends of the rope, opened his fists so the cord lay across his palms like an offering.
Kayluth looped the cord around each wrist three times.One for each of us, he mused as he had Sundrake retake the rope while he gathered the two ends and threaded them through the headboard before tying them off. Trailing his fingertips along the silky skin of his mate’s inner arms, Kayluth admired the play of muscles rippling and flexing as Sundrake tested how much he could move and made himself comfortable in the nest of pillows he rested on.
“I ssusspect, my love, that our ssobroke may not go eassy on you thiss evening. Are you prepared?”
Sudrake froze and blinked up at Kayluth. “Yeh, whatever he wants, I want to give him.” He bit on his lower lip as he studied Kayluth’s face, his gaze lingering on Kayluth’s mouth. “Besides, I get to fuck you, so it’s a win-win for me. Presents all around.”
Kayluth laughed along with Sundrake, splayed his hands on the sides of Sundrake’s head, and set his thumbs at the corners of his mate’s jaw. Gently, he entered Sundrake’s mouth, pushing up and down to separate those delicious lips from which filthy words escaped. Those kinds of phrases boiled Kayluth’s blood. He had no clue why dirty words turned him on, but all three of them had their quirks. With lust heating him from the inside out, Kayluth said, “Stick out your tongue.”
Sundrake complied, and Kayluth gave up any pretense of waiting. He scrambled to undress, dropping his tunic to the floor, his pants to his knees, unwilling to take the time to unlace his mid-calf boots. He wished he’d thought ahead, but he wished for his cock inside Sundrake’s mouth more. Kayluth knelt on the bed and fed Sundrake his erection. His shaft filled his sobroke’s mouth, stretching Sundrake’s lips wide as his mate sucked on the head. Moist heat surrounding his stiff flesh dragged a low moan from deep in his chest.
As Sundrake tongued his shaft, shots of pleasure zipped through his body but seeing how he stuffed his mate’s mouth kept him from fully enjoying the feeling in that tarran. Sundrake had previously stated he wanted Kayluth to fuck him, but Kayluth worried he was just too big. They needed time to not rush, to prepare, to use fingers and toys, but he agreed whole-heartedly with fulfilling that particular want.
Moondrake scratched along the length of Kayluth’s spine. “And you teased me for starting without you?”
As Sundrake paid homage to his cock, Kayluth snagged a gloriously naked Moondrake around the waist and set him on the bed beside him. Moondrake again grabbed fistfuls of Kayluth’s braids, dragging him into a zealous kiss of teeth clacking and tongues dueling. Kayluth reeled from the heady scent of sweet vanilla that always accompanied his sobroke. It filled his nose from Moondrake; delighted his taste buds from Sundrake. He’d never grow weary of the delicious flavor and aroma that belonged to his sobroke.
Manning
Sundrake’s pitiful whine pulled Manning and Kay apart. They stared at their mate who squirmed under their heated gazes. “Please… Please…”
Manning smirked. “Needy boy.” He grabbed the oil from the nightstand, climbed past Kayluth, and straddled Brandt’s thighs. Kayluth stood to watch, lightly fisting his cock and giving it a few loose strokes as Manning tapped a rapid beat on Brandt’s shaft. Manning played with his toy while ordering Kayluth to fuck their boy’s mouth then ignoring Brandt’s muffled-by-cock pleas.
He skillfully directed Kayluth’s body to where he wanted it, straddling Brandt. Manning eased Brandt’s legs apart and knelt between them. With oil-slicked fingers, he prepared both of his mates at the same time.
Their undulations, their plaintive moans rising in volume sank into Manning’s psyche. Each twist, each moan, sewed another stitch of love onto his soul. Manning had crushed on Brandt as a young boy, then had fallen in love with him aboard Moondrake when they’d spent arns upon arns working side by side as Captain and Head of Security. They’d come together in a haze of desire, but once that cloudy vision had cleared, he realized how deep his love for his bodyguard had become. He didn’t care that Brandt was almost ten sun-cycles older. Kayluth was even older, so he said, but maybe Drakken counted their cycles differently. He seemed no older than Brandt and Manning sometimes. Other times, though, he spoke with an aura of authority that Manning couldn’t match.
What did age matter when they matched so perfectly in bed and in life. They’d struggled at first to find their footing, their placement in their triad. Eventually, they slotted into place, equals out of bed, equals in desire in bed. Brandt’s desire to submit thrilled Manning and Kayluth; there was nothing more beautiful than their strong and muscular mate on his knees. Sometimes, Kayluth dominated both of them, and sometimes, it was Manning in charge. As the birthday celebrant, they both offered themselves up to him. A gift without rival.
Manning lined his cock up with Kayluth’s entrance as he pushed Kay flat upon Brandt. He knew Kayluth would keep the majority of his heavier weight off their sobroke. Kay would give Brandt just enough pressure; he’d increase Brandt’s pleasure by having their shafts align. Meanwhile, Manning slowly and steadily entered his Drakken mate. He gently punched forward, inch by inch until he could go no further. Waiting a tarran for Kayluth to relax, he slid his palms up Kay’s back, along his spine while basking in the feeling of having his cock surrounded in tight heat.
How lucky he was to have this amazing Drakken as his husband! Yes, they’d had a rocky start, but it ended in his joining with two gorgeous males and having two wonderful children. His “family” had multiplied exponentially, and he’d gained the title “king” when he’d least expected it. Him, Vidar? A Drakken king?
“The crown.”
