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The Master's Lover, Page 3

Brenna Lyons


  Anzel leaned toward him, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck. It took only a moment for Galon to piece together that the master wasn't planning him immediate harm as Zelter had. Though the lips crushed to his aggravated the split in his lip, the master's hungry moan was proof enough that Anzel didn't mean to cause him pain.

  Galon parted his lips, meeting the master in a true lover's kiss. At the enthusiastic response, he chanced laying his hands on Anzel's chest. The increased vigor of their joining urged Galon on.

  He unbuttoned the master's trousers, freeing the cock within, one that was undeniably as ready as his own. Trembling in restraint, Galon took Anzel's measure, handling him into the release of early fluids.

  Anzel's mouth left his, returning to stroke gently over the swelling on his lip. “You call this a curse?"

  "Not this.” What comes later, though ... Galon pushed away that thought as a concern for later. For now, he wanted to believe ... to feel ... and nothing more than that.

  Master Anzel aided in that by returning the favor of unbuttoning Galon's trousers. His hunger transformed his face into a fierce mask that said sex would be incendiary. “Once here.” He breathed his cryptic comment into Galon's chest.

  "And then?” Galon dared to ask. Would it be another Master Eldor? Lashes and unkind words once the master had his climax, though it was clear that Anzel shared at least a smattering of his taste for male flesh?

  A thought for later.

  Unless he speaks it true now. Then what will I do?

  At least I will know where I stand. Lashes have been expected since the moment he stood over me, and Farmer Zelter would have done worse.

  "We will travel to my home. On horseback ... and using back trails, we can reach it before moonset, if we press."

  Galon's question of why the master would demand such a thing was lost in another searing kiss. The future was suddenly unimportant. He'd lived from moment to moment for a year, and this moment was one worth living, no matter what came next.

  The rest was a blur of discovery, hands and mouths testing and teasing, clothing being cast away to the corners of the tent. A mage's magic sizzled along their skin as they touched, taunting Galon with memories of mage on mage sex. It was something he'd thought he'd never experience again.

  In moments, they were spooned together, Anzel pressed to Galon's back, his fingers testing the stretch of the passage, lubricating it with the fluids Galon had raised. The moment of consummation passed smoothly and without question, as if they'd been lovers for years instead of that very hour.

  Galon half-stifled a moan at the retreat of Anzel's fingers. The crown of the master's cock spread him, working past the ring of muscle in a delicious little shimmy. Anzel's abdominal muscles tightened against Galon's lower back, and the master's hips shifted, forcing his cock further.

  "Yes.” The plea was out before Galon could censor himself.

  Anzel thrust deeper. His hand settled on Galon's shoulder, pulling him closer and pushing him down onto the pillar of that glorious cock in a single motion.

  Galon wriggled further, seeking all the master had to give. As if in answer, Anzel's hips jerked up, and his cock pulsed against the walls of Galon's ass.

  It was too much. Galon gave in and moaned in pleasure. As if that was the master's breaking point, he started thrusting hard, gasps and shudders escaping him.

  Anzel outlasted him but only by moments. In the aftermath, they lay together, Anzel's arms holding Galon close at the shoulders, their breathing harsh in his ears, their cocks slowly lessening.

  The master moved, leaving Galon's body and rolling him to his back. He met Anzel's eyes steadily, the thud of his heart marking the time until bliss would turn to agony in body and soul.

  Anzel lowered his head, laying a lick on the cum-coated head of Galon's cock, a gift that few had ever granted Galon in his life. The sensation was too much, and he hardened again, biting back a scream of pleasure.

  "At my home, you need not hide your sounds,” Anzel offered.

  Galon forced his jaw to unclench, going boneless in relaxation.

  Anzel was suddenly towering over him, pulling a fresh pair of trousers from his pack. “Dress, Galon. The moon is rising, and I intend to have you on my sheets at next moonrise.” He paused, a devastating smile lighting his face.

  Galon's heart stuttered at that.

  "And perhaps in my tub shortly after that."

  At Galon's hesitation, Anzel stared at him. The master knelt at his side and laid a soft kiss on his mouth.

  "Come.” The kiss might have been soft, but his voice was rough, though Galon suspected it was rough in arousal and not in an edge of violence.

  He nodded, reaching for his pack, and Anzel's smile widened. Galon had no idea why, but he knew without question that he would travel the circumference of Terra Set to see Anzel smile.

  * * * *

  Mey 21st, 3055

  "I have only one test left of you to prove that you are a mason,” Anzel informed him.

  Galon nodded, holding himself rigid in a sure sign that he was frightened half to death by the concept that he was about to be elevated.

  It was something he'd never dared consider pursuing for himself, Anzel knew. Seeking out a master to train him to elevate would bring attention down on him and risk exposing his inclinations to one with the power to punish him for it. Worse, if the master was acquainted with Master Eldor, who knew what punishment might lay in store for him.

  "Remove your tunic, Midman Galon."

  He hesitated, looking around at the deserted field as if fearing an audience.

  "They are my fields. No one would dare. Remove your tunic."

  Galon ducked his chin toward his chest, pulling off the fine cotton tunic and folding it over the fence beside him. He started to cover his chest, then lowered his arms, peeking up at Anzel as if afraid he'd be counseled again for trying to hide himself from his master and lover.

  "Better. To elevate to mason, you must be schooled in the art of how touch increases the output of a shared channeling."

  "I cannot.” The pain in his voice was heartbreaking.

  "You can,” Anzel assured him. He pulled off his own tunic and tossed it negligently over Galon's, striding toward him.

  "I cannot,” he insisted. “You know how I would react. Though any mage would be likely to harden under the circumstances, I am too expressive to touch and want and hide it from others."

  The moon was strong, strong enough to make the power surge in Anzel's body, bringing him half-erect in the rush of energy alone. It would take very little of Galon's body to do the rest.

  "Touch me,” he invited. “You can touch me.” Anzel dipped his head, pressing his lips to Galon's throat just above the scars that maimed him.

  "Are you mad?” he whispered, his breathing going ragged.

  "Touch me, Galon. Feed me your power and earn your brown mason's robes."

  His hand pressed flat to Anzel's chest, stroking down the line of his ribs to the soft expanse of his belly. “You are mad.” But it was said without censure ... and without conviction.

  "Mad for you,” he countered. He was. The combination of Galon's body and the power rising between them had Anzel hard and aching. He pressed at Galon's arse, bringing the erect length behind his trousers into close contact with the one behind Galon's.

  Galon moaned, then bit his lip to hold back his sounds.

  "Don't. We will touch. We will share our bodies—"

  "Here?” He gasped.

  Convincing him wouldn't be difficult; Galon lost all sense of propriety when properly motivated. “Yes. Now, must I order you to touch me, or will you do so willingly?"

  "I still say you are mad.” His stroking hands made it clear that Galon no longer cared how mad it was.

  The power between them spiked along with their arousal. It was always thus, the interconnected sensations of channeling and sexual need. One would always spur the other.

  At the edges of
control, Anzel drew Galon's mouth up for a kiss not unlike their first.

  The young mage had a mouth that would prompt Anzel to beg for more, if Galon asked for such a thing. The first time Galon took his length into his mouth, Anzel had felt faint in pleasure. The second had been even better; they had taken each other in unison that night, then slept in each other's arms.

  Galon didn't ask what he wanted. It amazed Anzel how quickly his lover had learned his tastes and started anticipating his mind.

  The midman's hand worked at freeing Anzel's cock, and he left the kiss, trailing his mouth down Anzel's body with a groan of pleasure. Anzel used the fence for support, his knees going weak at the promise of the liquid heat of Galon's sweet mouth.

  Then he was there, his tongue circling the head in teasing, his fingers stroking the sheath covering it back to bare the most sensitive tip to his wicked attentions. It was all Anzel could do to stay on his feet, floored nearly as much by Galon's power as he was by the mage's sexual prowess.

  The power was drugging, and his skin burned in the very visible sparks of their consummation at the sharing. Anzel moaned at the idea of soulbinding with Galon. How much power would they generate in that joining? In that moment of passion and commitment to their union?

  "Do not tease, Galon,” he pleaded, giving up the pretense of order. “Take me in. Mother, I cannot last much longer."

  Neither the rising power between them nor the rising arousal would allow that. Though Anzel could well channel the power slowly into the crops around them, he had something special planned, something that would take a great deal of power, and so he wasn't willing to squander it.

  Galon pulled him in deep, stroking with a purpose to making Anzel spend in long, hard spasms that would leave him weak as a babe. And he succeeded admirably, drinking down Anzel's seed like a man stumbling from a desert would drink down water.

  Anzel fisted his hand in Galon's hair, forcing his working mind to focus on his goal. He released the power in a rush, with almost as little conscious control as he had over his escaping seed.

  The weeds that had overtaken the fence line in his absence transformed into a line of azca berry bushes, then matured and bore fruit in a matter of moments. The scents of new leaves, pungent flowers and sweet fruit teased at his already overloaded senses.

  Galon released him, turning to the bushes with wild eyes. Anzel caught at his shoulder, using the grip to ease himself to his knees beside his lover.

  "I do not understand,” Galon admitted.

  Anzel shook his head, searching for the words to express it. “With the right partner, touch can work wonders, Galon."

  "Yes, but—"

  "You told me that you favor azca berries. Consider them a gift on your elevation to mason."

  Anzel couldn't be certain whether Galon's shock was caused by the fact that he'd been elevated or by the fact that Anzel had given him a gift so personal. Either way, his silence made Anzel nervous. “There is one condition."

  Galon looked to him, guarded. “Which would be what?"

  "Ripe azca berries are known to drip juice down the body of he who eats them. The juice that drips is mine to taste, my love."

  His lover's agreement came in the form of grasping a berry and crushing it to his chest.

  * * * *

  Juno 15th, 3055

  "It is madness—You are mad!"

  Anzel smiled, then wider as Galon hardened. Mother, all it took was a smile to make him respond.

  "It is not madness. It is right,” he explained patiently. “All your reasons are no more. My home is yours ... unless you mean to leave me."

  His heart ached that Galon might choose to do it. It would be the ultimate horror, to have his lover leave him when he'd finally found one he would soulbind with, if Galon proved willing.

  Galon paled, shaking his head in a seeming horror that matched Anzel's. That was a good sign, though it had taken more than a week after reaching his home to convince Galon they had no need to hide their relationship.

  "N—never,” the young mason stammered out. “You know I...” He swallowed hard, dropping his gaze in a sign of his uncertainty.

  Anzel urged his chin up, reminding his lover that it annoyed him silently. “Say it when you are ready."

  In the three weeks since their shared channeling in his fields, Galon had stopped himself short of professing his love at every turn. Anzel knew it bothered Galon that Anzel could profess his feelings openly, and his young lover could not, but years of mistrust were not easily overcome.

  Anzel had no doubts that Galon loved him. It showed in every tender kiss and touch, every kind look and blush. The words would come when they did.

  Galon nodded, his throat bobbing and his face darkening, as if he longed to let the words burst free.

  "Along the while, though...” Anzel caressed Galon's lips with his thumb, stroking the white line of knitting tissue, the only sign left of the farmer's brutal attack. “Know that I do love you."

  "It is still madness.” His voice was strong and sure on that point.

  "Why? Have my servants shown disrespect for you? For us? Have the townspeople? The shopkeeps who measured you for your new robes and clothes?"

  Galon shook his head slowly, his eyes wary. Anzel had seen this defensive posture before. Like his inability to express the words of love, it was something that would take time to overcome.

  But Galon was a Star Mage. The power was his, and he would learn to grasp it in time.

  Anzel continued, needing to drive home the point that eluded Galon at every turn of the world. “King's law supports what we are, Galon. You know that."

  "What of Mages’ law?” he asked nervously. “Would you risk it to love me openly? Why would you do such a thing?"

  "They only dared touch you when you were of no family. Estranged from my house or not, you now have the protection of House An, because you are my love."

  "But—"

  "Mage's law only says we must reproduce if we are able. We have a daughter, Galon ... if you would allow me to claim Orana as such. We have only to collect her."

  He took a calming breath, no doubt trying to reason a more effective argument.

  It was time to shake Galon's world view a bit. The next logical argument he'd make would likely be that House An would never accept Orana as Anzel's child. “Of course, once Orana is with us, we could try for a younger brother or sister for her,” he half-teased, his heart hammering at Galon's possible response to that.

  Galon's eyes narrowed. “How do you intend to do that?” He leaned back, distancing himself on the bed.

  Anzel forced himself not to wince. For Galon, either possibility would seem torture. His father's brutal quest for an heir would make the idea of Galon taking a woman unpalatable. After Master Eldor's betrayal, the thought of Anzel taking a woman, as impossible as it was, would wound him even more.

  He smiled, stroking his fingertips over Galon's still-hard cock. “Be honest, my love. When I mount you, you lose yourself."

  His expression was abruptly hungry. “You know I do."

  "I know women who would share a bed with us and carry our children."

  Galon blanched. “Whose children, Anzel?"

  "Ours. It is true that I cannot complete in a woman, but with you to suckle me to climax and a woman's body there to catch the seed—"

  "And?” He was a perceptive man. It served him well, as always.

  "Would it be so terrible for me to love you, to arouse you so that she could take you in? She would be only a vessel to catch your seed, Galon.” He hurried on, hoping to put Galon at ease with the idea ... to at least cause him to consider the possibility. “With both of us depositing to her, no one could say for certain whose child slept in the womb. It would be both of ours, undeniably."

  Galon didn't reply, leaving Anzel to wonder at his silence. Mayhap he'd pushed to hard and too fast.

  "If you cannot face it, we will spoil Orana alone,” Anzel conceded. “She will be the
child of my heart. You have my vow on that."

  "The mages would have to admit we were doing our duty to reproduce,” Galon whispered, lost in thought.

  Anzel's heart skipped a beat in excitement. “Indeed, they would."

  "And House An would have to acknowledge the children as your own or risk embarrassment."

  "They would.” His grandfather and father would not be pleased, but they'd never been pleased where Anzel was concerned.

  "I suppose any sons born of the union would have to be given House An names."

  "To force them to acknowledge them as my heirs, they would ... but you could choose the names,” he offered.

  Galon met Anzel's eyes. “I will consider it. I can offer no more than that."

  "It is blessing enough."

  His young lover chuckled, a sound Anzel thought he might never hear. “You might have to convince me,” he warned.

  "You know I enjoy the challenge of it."

  * * * *

  Juno 20th, 3055

  Galon slid from his saddle, taking a calming breath. Anzel stepped to his side, offering comfort and strength silently. Talden stood at his opposite shoulder, ordered there by Anzel for Galon's protection. Finally, two House An royal bodyguards took their places at their backs. Galon was grateful for them, though he knew they were cousins of Anzel's, only there because Anzel called them in and traded this service in settlement of some debt they owed him.

  The cool night wind whipped Galon's brown mason's robes and pressed the silk tunic beneath to his scarred flesh. He'd come in his finest, hoping it would make a believer of himself more than his father.

  As if reading his thoughts, Anzel spoke. “You are not the boy who ran any longer."

  The choice not to touch Galon in comfort had been mutually agreed upon. If his parents saw such a move and guessed their relationship, it would be all the harder to free Orana. This way, they were master and student, and his father need know no more than that.

  Galon nodded and strode to the door, his guards and Anzel taking his lead.

  The door opened as he reached it. His mother looked from face to face, seemingly struck mute by the group of individuals she faced. Galon noted that she couldn't meet his eyes in grim satisfaction.