Page 73 of Burning Ice
Kylix’s hand moved to Mirel’s thigh again. The air between them thickened as the distance vanished. Mirel bit his lip. His body already reacted to Kylix’s bare touch, desperate as he had been to be close to the Imperial Prince. And Kylix knew, judging by his triumphant smirk and the way he spread his fingers as he slid further up and to the growing bulge in his pants.
“I heard you went to Archer’s this morning.” His fingers unbuckled Mirel’s belt. The sound of the sliding zipper charged the air. Mirel took in a deep breath, arousal flooding immediate and dizzying his head.
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm. What did you think of his tiganos? Should I get them from his place from now on, start a war with Aviel? That would be kind of fun.” His fingers slid over Mirel’s clothed erection, making him hiss and buckle his hips. He felt like grabbing Kylix’s hand and biting it, anything to prevent himself from screaming as Kylix’s hand dipped under the waistband and grabbed his cock.
“Already leaking for me, little ghost.” Kylix sounded pleased.
Mirel’s head flopped back when Kylix started stroking him. Slow and cruel, making him feel so good he had to contain himself from coming right away.
“Remember when I told you about my first Aureate? Well, this is his. He’s very excited. And so are you, aren’t you?” Kylix squeezed his slit, preventing him from climaxing. Mirel bucked, a silent protest, a desperate grunt that made Kylix chuckle.
“I have a private booth in the arena. That’s where we’ll go. You can come like this, in your uniform. You won’t need clothesinside the booth anyway, my little darae. I will take good care of you.”
He smoothed Mirel’s collar like a man fixing a blade to its sheath. “You’ll come where I tell you,” he said, softer. “How I tell you. And you’ll thank me for making you wait.” The crowd roared again, as if the city agreed.
His fingers traced the lines of Mirel’s erection, brushing his slit. Then he removed his hand, looked at the precum he’d gathered and licked it up. Mirel could only stare.
“Are you not going to?—”
Kylix turned his way, leaning back, placing his hands behind his head. He spread his thighs, showing off the obvious lines of his erection. “Make you come? Nah. Not yet. Tonight’s ours. The game of the Dariux. Can’t have Daven have all the fun.”
Mirel fisted his hands in shame and frustration. Frost mingled with blood.
Kylix laughed. “Pack yourself up, Mirel, no one else gets to see what’s mine.”
The hovercar parked in front of the arena, engine idling before cutting off. The air inside was heavy with heat and the muffled roar of the crowd beyond the walls. Kylix turned to Mirel, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched him try to steady his breath.
Mirel’s hands shook as he reached for the door. Kylix laughed, low and sharp.
“Come on, little ghost,” he said, stepping out and circling to open Mirel’s door. “Let’s go for some entertainment.”
He offered his hand, mockingly polite, and the city’s noise swelled around them as they stepped into the glow of the approaching night.
20
Heat still clung to his skin, the ghost of Kylix’s touch refusing to fade. The hum of engines below the arena matched the uneven rhythm of his breath.
Kylix leaned close as they stepped through the entrance. “You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured, fingers brushing Mirel’s wrist. “Still thinking about earlier?” His mouth drifted near Mirel’s ear, voice low and teasing. “You were shaking for me. I could make you beg again right here. Want me to tell you what I’d do if we weren’t walking into a crowd?”
Mirel’s throat tightened. “N-no.”
Kylix chuckled. “Liar.” His breath warmed the edge of Mirel’s jaw. “Soon you’ll get exactly what you want.” His hand lingered a moment longer before the sharpness of command settled back over him.
Inside, the lounge of the arena was wide and bright, divided by glass cabins. Kylix gave a clipped nod to the others and guided Mirel toward the bar.
“I’ll have the usual. Plus two glasses.”
The woman behind the counter nodded and reached for the bottle. Her eyes flicked to Mirel, a quick assessment that made him draw his shoulders in. He looked toward the viewing panes,the noise and lights pressing against the glass. How many times had he hidden under those same bleachers before, stealing crusts, watching the Aureates through cracks in the seats? Never had he imagined standing here, marked by the man who led the Luminary and shared his bed, the one who had claimed him.
“Are you coming?” Kylix’s tone pulled him back.
“Y-yes.”
A group of Imperials entered, their capes catching the light, blood-red with black lining for the highborn, gold piping for those sworn to service, striped edges for the students.
“Family,” Kylix said. “Some go to the academy. Two serve under me.”
