Page 84 of Veiled Flames
A hand falls onto my shoulder.
I straighten, turning away from whoever approached, so I can properly affix a grin before facing them.
“Are you quite well?” a voice asks.
It’s Rosshall.
I spin, turning my faux grin toward the boy. The runt’s eyes flash with so much compassion and understanding that my pasted-on expression crumbles under an explosion of reignited anger.
“Quite well? Am Iquite well?” Pushing his shoulder, I shove Rosshall back a step. “I ambeyondwell, runt. In fact, I amexcellent. I amalwaysexcellent.”
Rosshall nods. His gaze lifts toward mine, and lights flicker in the kid’s pale purple eyes. Thrix, why does this runt of a boy affect me?
And I can’t help but resent his bravery and belief in himself. Objectively, he should have none of either. He’s so small. So inferior to me. So weak. But there’s something in his eyes…
Anger and resentment have hardened my cock. There’s no other explanation for why that has happened.
“About the record,” Rosshall says. “I wouldn’t have evensurvivedthe gauntlet, if I hadn’t carefully studied your demonstration.”
“Serves me right for going slowly.” I shrug. “I held back so you newbies could see.” It’s not true. I went all out, but perhaps if Irepeat this lie, I can make it true. “I’ll regain my record the next time.”
Rosshall nods. “I’m sure that you will.” The boy’s eyes are full of pity.
This runt dares to pity me? I can’t have that. The red haze returns. Time to show him who’s boss.
Grabbing him, I pin his body face first against the column. Before he has time to react, I kick his legs apart and use my superior weight to crush his much smaller body against the granite.
“See,” I growl, using a tone well learned from childhood. “You willneverbest me.”
Rosshall’s ribs push back as he fights to breathe. I knocked the wind from his chest. Good.
“Get off me.” His voice is little more than a squeak.
Rosshall’s scent is sweeter than any boy’s I’ve known—like strawberries under a hot sun—and I lean toward his slender neck and inhale, growing intoxicated as inexplicable yet undeniable feelings rise inside me.
Lust. I feellustfor this boy. And that makes me even more angry.
“Let me go,” he says more firmly.
“Give me one reason I should doanythingyou ask?” In spite of my words, I adjust my position, taking some pressure off his back and letting him breathe more easily.
But my movement transfers my weight, and now my hardened cock is pressing against his backside. Not helping.
“Get. Off. Me.” He struggles.
His movements double, triple,quadruplemy lust. The friction between us further stiffens my cock and solidifies a new plan.
Shifting, I press my forearm across the top of his back, easily pinning him against the column with one arm. I’ve never seen a grown boy with such narrow shoulders.
“It’s time I teach you a lesson,” I growl into his ear. “Time to prove that you’llneverbe able to mount a dragon.”
Under Saxon’s guidance, I’ve learned a modicum of control over my cruelest impulses. Impulses drilled into me from birth. But tearing open this boy’s asshole will be an act of kindness, not cruelty. He’ll feel intense pain. He’llhateme tonight—perhaps forever—but his pain and blood will convince him he’s too small to ride dragons.
I rub my stiffened cock against his breeches. His ass muscles tighten, catching the ridge of my rod between them. I stifle a moan, grateful he can’t see my face. He can’t know how much I want to do this. He can’t guess that I might get even an ounce of pleasure from the lesson I plan to teach him tonight.
The corners of this ballroom are dark by design, oft used by candidates and riders to wet their wicks in the juicy clefts of the courtesans and servants—and sometimes in each other’s bum holes. Here in the shadows, while his fellow recruits dance and drink, I plan to give Rosshall a lesson he’ll never forget. He doesn’t need to know how desperate I am to do it, or that my own pleasure is bound to be great.
Rosshall’s will be my first ass. I’ve never had difficulty finding a willing wench to dive into, and so I never saw the appeal in taking a man. But right now, my cock throbs at the thoughtof how small and tight his asshole will be. Far tighter than a wench’s cleft, I expect. Especially the well-used ones here at camp.
