Gabriel stared. He’d come to get answers for Iliana’s sake, yet somehow, they were discussing the possibility of a permanent arrangement for him. With Clan Baknu. The room continued to rock.

  Unaware of the seismic upset he’d set off, Baknu continued to muse in his understated manner. “You’re twenty-nine years old. I’m the youngest of my clan, which would be…hmm…around eighty of your Earth years, I believe.”

  “Wait. I swear I heard you say you’re eighty. You look my age.”

  “Kalquorians age slower and live longer than Earthers.” Still offhand. Still casual, as if he wasn’t setting off shock after shock. “If nothing terrible happened, I’d likely outlive you. Which means, if we have a relationship and it all works out, you’d want for nothing for the rest of your life. Only an unforeseen catastrophe would leave you on your own, without access to the clan’s estate. Still…”

  “What about your clanmates? Shouldn’t you ask them first?” Gabriel burst out, as much as to stop Baknu from talking as to find out if Kisk and Takat were on the same page as their clan leader.

  Only a slow blink betrayed Baknu’s surprise. “I thought their interest in you was obvious.”

  “I’ve never known any men who were attracted to me.”

  “No wonder you look at me as if I’ve grown a second head.”

  “I’ve never been in a relationship before. Well, family relationships, yeah, obviously, but what you’re talking about…with others…”

  Baknu smiled, but his expression held a hint of sadness as Gabriel stumbled over verbalizing what was taboo. “A loving, intimate commitment with three other men. Living as your married couples do on Earth.”

  “Yeah. That. What if we don’t do well together? Then what happens to me?”

  “We already mentioned Iliana making your continued support on Kalquor a condition of her clanning. You could also explore relationships with other clans.” A frown turned Baknu’s demeanor surprisingly dark. His brows drew together.

  The tense expression disappeared. “You have plenty of options should our attempt at a bond fail to work out, none of which involves you returning to Earth. No matter what happens, I won’t leave you unprotected.”

  “That’s generous of you.” Gabriel’s thoughts whirled. Clan Baknu wanted to court him. They wanted to explore the possibility of an actual, committed relationship.

  The Dramok, who loomed over him, leaned closer. “I doubt I’d have to prove such a scenario. I believe you’d enjoy being with my clan. Shall I begin to make my case for it?”

  As he spoke, his hand settled on Gabriel’s knee. It moved upward, rubbing his thigh. The fingers spread halfway up, paused to squeeze.

  Gabriel sat frozen, surrounded by that sweet-spicy scent he’d detected on the Kalquorians back at the shop. He couldn’t move as Baknu drew closer. Closer. The Dramok’s breath warmed his lips.

  Chapter Five

  Baknu kissed him.

  Really kissed him. His tongue stroked Gabriel’s, tasting. Exploring. His hand slid up Gabriel’s thigh, closing in on where the young man’s pulse pounded hardest, where each beat brought secret flesh awake, alert, eager. The clandestine touch neared his swelling crotch, and Gabriel’s need reached for that warmth, pleading for another’s caress as Baknu kissed him without a pause.

  That strong but careful grip slid over his cock, the heat of Baknu’s palm sinking into his flesh. Baknu found him rigid, straining against his trousers. He rubbed him with gentle insistence, urging him to grow harder. Gabriel cried out, shoving against that knowing touch as he clutched the stretchy fabric covering Baknu’s muscled chest.

  He pitched into a world of sensation, where nothing existed but the lips moving against his, where a deliciously scratchy tongue abraded the tender flesh of his mouth, where a palm applied perfect friction to his avid cock. Gabriel was lost in the tumult of another man’s attentions, his only anchor fistfuls of Baknu’s uniform.

  Then those wondrous touches were gone. He was lifted from his chair. The world twisted about him, a dizzying blur, except for the purple eyes staring into his. Baknu sat him on the edge of the desk.

  Gabriel began putting the pieces of his existence together again. He still clung to the Dramok’s chest. Baknu was leaning over him, sweeping devices aside as he pressed him back, forcing him to lie on the work surface. Intention burned behind Baknu’s otherwise calm expression. Something was about to happen, but for the life of him, Gabriel couldn’t quite figure out what. Something to do with sex, but he drew a blank when he tried to remember the acts committed in forbidden vids he’d found on a secret cyberspace site.

  “Baknu? I, uh, I…”

  He had no idea what he was trying to say. It didn’t matter, because Baknu kissed him again, short-circuiting Gabriel’s brain.

  Baknu untucked his shirt to rub his torso. The Dramok pulled at the resealable seam, opening the shirt, baring Gabriel’s chest. The kiss moved down, leaving a wet trail to the Earther’s nipple. A delicate lick was followed by forceful sucking. Excitement flashed straight to his already engorged cock.

  Gabriel writhed beneath the incredible assault, overwhelmed and confused as to what he should be doing in return. His fingers pattered over Baknu’s head, across his shoulders, along his upper back, then flailed in the air as jolts of electricity coursed through him.

  Baknu solved the problem when he captured and pinned Gabriel’s wrists to the desk with one huge hand. At the same instant, he fondled the Earther’s tented crotch.

  Gabriel cried out as raw lust surged with the force of a lightning strike. Baknu answered his yell with a growl. An actual growl, his placid demeanor replaced by a dangerous grin that showed the sharp tips of fangs behind his normal teeth.

  Gabriel froze under the bigger man’s stare. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as Baknu pulled the Earther’s trousers open and tugged his undershorts down, allowing Gabriel’s eager shaft to spring free.

  He gasped as Baknu’s grip closed on his naked, avid flesh. He was touching him, really touching him, another man was holding him.

  Not just holding him. The warm, strong grasp pulled and squeezed, filling his cock with roiling lava. Gabriel arched as a spasm seized his entire body, his whole being coalescing where Baknu clasped him, masturbating him. His hips rose and fell in instinctive rhythm as the Dramok worked him into a maelstrom of ecstasy.

  Baknu kissed him, a gentle counterpoint to the powerful strokes on his cock. Gabriel had no idea he wept until the Kalquorian licked the tears from his cheeks.

  “Sweet boy. Precious, beautiful Gabriel. It’s okay. Let it happen. Let me be the first man to bring you to climax. Let me give you the pleasure you’ve waited too long for.”

  The next kiss was more demanding, a determined invasion as forceful as the hand pulling on him, drawing on him, making him insane with irresistible yearning. It was too much, and Gabriel tried to beg him to stop just a moment, to let him gather his wits. His pleas were inarticulate moanings, interrupted by the commanding kisses of his adamant lover.

  “Come for me, Gabriel. Come.”

  The young man’s balls drew tight. Scorching heat pushed into the base of his cock, gathering for release. Baknu’s firm hold pumped relentlessly, demanding Gabriel’s surrender.

  “Come.”

  The dam broke. White-hot elation poured through his cock, unfurling as ribbons of cum poured from him in ecstatic jets. Gabriel shouted and jerked with each pulse, pleasure crashing through him in waves. He was aware of Baknu holding him down, watching him succumb, milking his shaft even after he finished spending his seed. The Dramok massaged him until the last pulse of bliss was done and Gabriel lay limp and gasping on his desk.

  Baknu left him. Gabriel stayed put, staring at the glowing ceiling, feeling wetness sliding in fat drops across his abdomen, running down the sides of his waist. Still feeling Baknu’s grip, as if it had been imprinted on his sex. As if his cock now belonged to the alien.

  The Dramok reappeared, smiling his gentle smile at Gabriel as he used a warm, damp cloth to clean him. Gabriel let him, unable to stir as Baknu put his clothing to rights.

  “Most of your cum ended up on you. Only a drop here and there on your shirt and pants. I doubt anyone will notice before you can swap outfits.”

  Baknu lifted him, sat him in the chair. Gabriel noted the dark patch of spreading wetness on the other man’s crotch. Baknu turned away, going to the wall and tapping it. A panel slid out, revealing several one-piece uniforms, with blue, red, and green trim. His back to Gabriel, Baknu stripped and selected a clean outfit.

  “I keep a change of formsuits in here, for me and my clan. You wouldn’t believe the amount of sexual activity that goes on in my office. My clanmates prefer to deliver their work reports in person, and Takat’s pretty much a walking erection when food’s absent…well, we’re all damned lusty, to be honest. Since it’s not a combat ship, we keep things informal here.”

  Gabriel stared at Baknu’s muscular ass, at the fascinating manner it flexed as the Dramok bent and lifted his feet to pull the uniform on. He whimpered when the formsuit hid it from sight.

  Baknu returned. One of the handhelds beeped, and he checked it. His sigh sounded disappointed. “Damaged bin reported, and its intended recipient wants me to check the contents personally. Takat’s probably been throwing the cargo across the bay again instead of using hover controls. Guess I should run off and act like a captain now, huh?”

  He leaned over Gabriel. Settled a delicate kiss on his lips. “You’re exquisite when you climax. Loveliest sight ever.” He fondled Gabriel between the legs. Though sated, the Earther didn’t resist the attention. He had the sense of the Kalquorian declaring ownership, and some unknown part of him agreed with it. He even spread his thighs further apart, submitting to the unspoken claim.

  “I—I’m sorry I didn’t do more—”

  “I didn’t expect you to. I just wanted to see what you looked like during orgasm. I hope I’ll get the chance to watch you do so again. Soon.” Caressing him intimately as he spoke. Asserting his right to do so, though he appeared so casual.

  Gabriel nodded, his brain still foggy. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, except that it meant enjoying more of that wondrous ecstasy of the other man’s touch.

  * * * *

  Mit-noc stood in the luxurious passenger cabin of Nal’s borrowed shuttle, inspecting his nodes in the mirror. Two of the dozen on his bruised face were in danger of detaching after Kisk’s slapping spree.

  An Aksukt’s beauty marks were unappreciated away from his home planet, but he’d been proud to have grown so many at his age. He’d have fetched much admiring attention at the galas his mother threw.

  All he could do was hope they remained and regrew connecting fibers to anchor them more firmly. Dejected, he sat on the bed with its opulent coverings and fat pillows.

  Being beaten wasn’t the worst of his troubles. Clan Baknu was apparently making a claim on Gabriel, as he’d feared they might. They had plenty to offer a mere shop owner too. He’d learned a thing or two about the three Kalquorians after the altercation he’d suffered at Kisk’s hands before.

  Why did people of such means work as delivery boys for the government fleet? Aliens were so odd.

  He glanced around the cabin, which Nal had outfitted to appeal to the Earther. In addition to the luxurious bed, a cooler with bottles of the most expensive leshella awaited Gabriel. Fine colognes. Jewelry. Fancy clothing. Nal had spared no expense to lure his latest preoccupation.

  Nonetheless, such trinkets were nothing compared to what men of Clan Baknu’s standing could give him. Particularly since they’d no doubt explained to Gabriel how Nal’s playthings spent their last days.

  That meant extreme measures to collect the young man had to be employed. Mit-noc opened a drawer on the wall nearest to the bed and took out a pair of heavy shackles.

  They were relics of a bygone era, brutal instruments of bondage before the advent of slender hover cuffs, pain collars, and stasis fields. The clunky manacles and weighty chains attached to them, with the slight marring of rust, were far lovelier in Mit-noc’s opinion.

  A slave knew his place when he wore such fetters. The heft dragging on his frame, the chains clinking with every movement, and the flesh worn raw where the cuffs rubbed—all reminders of the property’s station. The slaves of Mit-noc’s mother wore theirs day and night, from birth to death.

  “As is proper. A slave must realize the privilege to live is one that can be ended at any moment,” Mit-noc murmured. An early lesson from his mother. He caressed the shackles with reminiscent affection. Only a very few of his mother’s slaves had rebelled, and their deaths had served to quell foolishness from the rest for long periods of time.

  How he missed that sound of the un-class moving about, their chains jingling musically as they hurried to perform their duties. He’d had his own personal attendant in his mother’s house, a bent old thing, who’d nevertheless rushed to oil Mit-noc’s skin in hopes of spurring node growth several times a day, who’d cleaned and kept his clothes in perfect order, who’d rushed to fulfill Mit-noc’s every command. When he’d been less than perfect, he huddled at his master’s feet, taking the beatings he’d deserved with pained cries—but never with pleas for mercy, for he knew his place.

  Grief swelled huge in Mit-noc’s chest. He’d been cut off from that perfect world of privilege and ease because he’d chosen the wrong political allies, angered the wrong people, people not even his powerful mother could defend him against. She’d be aghast to see what he’d been reduced to. He consoled himself with the knowledge she’d probably imagined he’d killed himself rather than shamefully scraping by these past few years. If she knew he’d become a frequent inhabitant of the yuphor dens, losing himself in mist-induced hallucinations of the world he’d lost, she’d no doubt have him killed.

  So much shame. Yet he continued on, hoping for a big score that would pay off his debts and let him buy a few weeks of drug-induced illusions of happiness.

  Mit-noc studied the cabin. Nal wouldn’t mind him making adjustments to it if it meant capturing Gabriel. Mit-noc rubbed the manacles with a lover’s touch, imagining the Earther bound helpless. Imagining his soft skin rubbed bleeding by them. And that lovely, lovely music of the clinking chains. Proper accessories for such a low creature, born to serve those better until he no longer could.

  Mit-noc rose to gather his tools and make the cabin ready for its intended inmate.

  * * * *

  Gabriel fought to pay attention to his handheld. He should have been lost in the joy of tapping through interior design ideas. He adored decorating a space. He’d re-done his and Iliana’s apartment at least once a year since they’d moved in.

  Instead of furniture arrangements, color palettes, and design elements, he saw Baknu standing over him. Staring at him. Felt him touching him…

  Gabriel shook himself out of the reverie as a jolt of heat filled his cock. He glanced at Iliana to see if she’d noticed anything off about him. How could she not? A seismic change had walloped the universe as far as he was concerned.

  He could still smell Baknu’s cinnamon-y scent on himself. Still feel his hand on his shaft. Still taste his kiss. It dizzied him.

  Iliana remained oblivious. She was intent on her latest sewing project, embellishing a plain blouse to turn it into a one-of-a-kind fashion statement. All her work was created to her own liking, and if she failed to sell a piece before a new one was made, it went into her closet. She’d keep all her projects for herself if she could. Fortunately for their closet capacity, her scarves, dresses, and blouses tended to sell out when an Earther ship docked. Fleet crewmen had mothers, wives, girlfriends, and daughters to buy souvenirs for, to make up for the months they were away from home.

  Iliana was talented. She deserved better than living on a remote station and hiding from the males who were as apt to threaten her life with sexual propositions as buy her creatively constructed clothing for loved ones.

  Would Kalquor give her that better life?

  Gabriel was selfish to wonder such a thing. The taste of the happy future Baknu had offered him that day had him hungering for more. If only…

  He stifled a sigh, staring at the wall, seeing a handsome bearded face. Come for me, Gabriel. Come.

  “I enjoy the room the way it is. Let me keep it this way for another month?” Iliana had caught his wistful mood, though she attributed it to the wrong reason.

  He chuckled, relieved. “How about your room?”

  “You know better.” Iliana had allowed him a single decorating binge in her private space. She loved its dramatic blue and brown hues and refused to let him change it again.

  “What about bright yellow walls instead of this soft blue in here? It’ll be like sunshine.”

  “Blue is calming. Restful. It’s been less than a year since the latest change. One more month, Gabe. Please?”

  “Okay.” He gave up readily, because decorating was the last thing on his mind.

  He looked at his handheld again, though he didn’t see it. Instead, Baknu leaned over him, gripping his wrists. The Kalquorian had huge hands, and he’d been able to pin Gabriel’s arms with just one. Holding him down, making him helpless as he pulled the Earther’s pants open…

  Gabriel licked his lips as he glanced at his wrists. The large metal cuff he wore, covered with intricately etched designs, had left vague imprints on his skin where Baknu had grasped it tight. How would he have reacted had he known there was a secret to that seemingly innocuous piece of jewelry, a length of flex metal that could be pulled out to stab an attacker?

  Not that the idea of defending himself had occurred for a single second during the incredible seduction in Baknu’s office. Gabriel had wanted what was happening. The Kalquorian’s gentle demands for surrender hadn’t needed to be uttered, though they’d intensified an already overwhelming desire. Everything about Baknu had been an astonishing delight: his tender yet firm insistence, his every touch an unspoken order that left Gabriel with no choice but to obey.