Creation's Control

“You didn’t complain about the coya fruit last night.” Drekk’s bland tone contrasted with the wicked look in his eyes.

“Asshole,” Ryen muttered as he attacked the plate Drekk set before him. Much as Drekk annoyed him, the jerk also amused him.

“Damn, is that a smile I see?” Drekk stared in mock astonishment.

“Cut it out.” Ryen’s grin grew wider.

“I think I may pass out from the shock.”

“Good. Then I’ll get my hands on that controller and fly out of here.”

“Have fun searching for it.”Drekk rubbed his chest. “I hid it on my body today.”

Ryen wanted to look for it, right now. Shaking free of such thoughts, he tried to focus on his food. But as he ate, he couldn’t stop glancing at Drekk’s sculpted chest through the v-neck of the vest he wore. Nor could he avoid the large arms Drekk flashed as he gesticulated while he ate. The taciturn man he’d once thought Drekk to be never seemed to shut up.

Oddly, Synster’s warnings of perversions and unnatural longings seemed less significant each day Ryen spent in Drekk’s company. What could it hurt to indulge in some human curiosity? Drekk was a hardy male. Ryen wouldn’t break him, as Drekk had said. Which made Ryen wonder what it would be like to lose control during sex, to let it all out…

“Okay. Today we work on your control.” Drekk stood and put his dishes into the wash receptacle. “If you finish that mound on your plate, we’ll get started.”

Ryen finished his meal in record time, eager to see what Drekk had in mind—to hasten his exit out of this place, he reminded himself. “We going to lose the cuffs today?”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re going to need them later.”

Ryen immediately went on alert. “Why?”

“See? That’s why. I’m just screwing with you, and you’re ready to take my head off. I’m trying to teach you a new way to live, Ryen. I can’t be on my guard one hundred percent. Once you ‘hit the wall’, like I know you will, we’ll both be glad for the cuffs.”

“You keep threatening it. Just do it. Push me as hard as you can. Watch me handle it.”

Ryen could taste his excitement. “I’ve been good the past three days, haven’t I?”

Drekk shook his head. “You’re not ready yet. Get over here and assume Petal One hand position.” When Ryen hesitated, Drekk turned mean. “Now.”

The need to obey hit him hard. Off balance, Ryen grumbled as he sat down and crossed his legs, but he had no thought to refuse. He tuned out of his surroundings and followed Drekk’s instruction. Soon basking in the harmony within himself, Ryen came to a sudden realisation, one that both shocked and unnerved him. He wanted to submit to Drekk, to a male who had saved his life, but who hadn’t bested him in combat. Emotionally stable and even-tempered, superior when it came to control, Drekk had yet to prove himself in an all-out fight.

Why do I want to submit now that I’m free? How screwed up am I? Uncomfortable with the truth, Ryen pulled himself from his meditative state.

Drekk sat across from him, his legs crossed and his arms assuming Petal One position above his head, his hands entwined. Drekk’s sluggish pulse and stillness told Ryen he’d entered a similar state of calm.

The strong column of Drekk’s throat rippled when he swallowed. The scent of honeyed citrus lingered on his skin, from the blan juice he’d consumed. Muscles tanned by the harsh sun strained as he held his pose, and Ryen wanted to feel that skin under his palms. To cause the male’s rosy nipples to pebble, to feel the delineated form of Drekk’s abdomen as Ryen worked his way lower.

The temptation Drekk had planted, to see if sex with a male would equal what he imagined, taunted Ryen to take what he wanted. The advantage was his for the moment. With Drekk inwardly focused, Ryen could take him down. Not to harm him, but to test his friend’s—the man’s—reflexes. Now, when Drekk was vulnerable, Ryen could take what he needed, a warrior’s right. It wouldn’t be rape, he knew. Drekk had openly admitted he wanted Ryen. What better way, then, to see if Ryen returned the attraction wholeheartedly? But under Ryen’s direction, not Drekk’s. Ryen pounced.

He pinned Drekk underneath him in two seconds, one hand over the male’s entwined hands, holding him to the ground, the other around Drekk’s neck.

“One word from you and I’ll disable your tongue.” The angle of his fingers under Drekk’s jaw meant business. “Nod if you understand.”

Drekk glared and nodded.

“Good.” Ryen couldn’t help his arousal, nor could he miss Drekk’s. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he mimicked. “I just need to confirm something.”

Drekk remained still, curiosity warring with the anger in his gaze. Ryen didn’t care. He’d danced to Drekk’s tune, now it was his turn.

Ryen studied Drekk’s face, lingering on his lips. Wanting more, he slowly lowered his mouth. Drekk started to speak and Ryen tightened his hand.

“I know you feel my hand around your neck. I’m not playing, Drekk. Shut up and let me…do this. I need to know.”

With a sigh, Drekk surrendered. The power crushing through Ryen swamped him. Heady that he’d regained control, he kissed Drekk full on the mouth. Unlike a female’s soft lips, Drekk’s felt firmer. Ryen plundered his mouth with a seeking tongue, tasting the sexual essence of Drekk as his excitement grew.

He ground into Drekk’s belly while he deepened the kiss. Groaning, he loosened his hold on Drekk’s throat and devoured the male. He tasted so damned good, so familiar yet foreign at the same time. Lust built into an all-consuming blaze as Ryen took and took. Drekk moaned under his assault, and it was all Ryen could do to give him some air.