Hidden Depths (5 page)

“Don’t,” Ty pleaded. “Hit me some more.”

Anso let him feel the edge of his teeth. “You’re not my master, Ty.”

“I want you to master me.”

Did he? Sometimes Anso wondered if Ty knew his own desires. Not what they were, but why he felt them. As promiscuous as he was, he had to be searching for something he hadn’t found. Had it been in Anso’s power, he would have given whatever it was to him. Ty’s happiness mattered more to Anso than Ty might have been comfortable knowing. Now and then, Anso wasn’t comfortable with it himself. One day, he’d give his heart to a woman - or at least he’d try to. When that day came, he didn’t want his friend to be hurt.

“I brought you a present,” he said aloud.

Ty tossed a raised-brow look over his shoulder. Male lovers didn’t give gifts to each other, not romantic ones at least.

“Don’t worry,” Anso chuckled. “It isn’t a bunch of flowers.” It was a rubber coated wooden paddle, easy to wield and more effective than Anso’s palm. Ty’s breath came faster when he saw it.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s a nice present.”

“On your back again,” Anso instructed. “Pull your knees to your shoulders. I want you to watch me smacking you.”

The position was more intimate than their usual, but Ty only hesitated for a few heartbeats.

“Wrap your arms around your thighs to hold them. I don’t want you touching yourself. Tonight, no one’s getting you off but me.” Ty complied with this as well. Once he had, his eyes were wider, his handsome features more deeply flushed. Not only were his buttocks bared by his position, but so was his asshole. For once, he actually looked docile.

Anso wasted no time taking advantage. The paddle made a lovely resonant crack on his ass muscles. It felt good in Anso’s hand, each impact running warmly up his arm. Ty was already pink, so Anso couldn’t hit him long. He stopped when Ty let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a whimper.

Now
he was panting the way Anso liked to hear. Dropping the paddle, he spread one palm over Ty’s hot ass cheeks. Ty’s eyes had been tightly closed for the paddling, but at the caress they flew open.

Their sessions, when they indulged, generally finished with Ty taking charge and fucking him mightily. Right then, he didn’t seem capable, and not because he wasn’t plenty hard. His cock was huge, its slit trickling steadily. No, Ty seemed incapable because his expression was so stunned.

“Put your feet on the bed,” Anso growled.

His voice was rough, as if he too were shaken. Ty dropped his feet, his arms releasing the hold they’d taken behind his knees. His hands fell to the sheets as if they’d lost their ability to move without orders. He didn’t budge as Anso swung over his torso, one knee to either side of him. Because Anso hadn’t let him touch his cock, his skin was oiled and ready. If Anso wished, he could take him without delay.

Ty’s eyes glittered up at Anso as he shifted over it.

In all their years together, they hadn’t fucked face to face. Other things they’d done that way, but not penetration. Anso saw Ty was aware of this.

“I won’t last,” Ty rasped. “I am so fucking ready to go.” Anso swallowed, feeling ready to go himself. “Put your hands on my hips.” Ty wrapped his fingers around him there, warm and sweaty and tight. Praying he’d last long enough to get Ty inside, Anso placed the head of Ty’s cock against his asshole. He was so aroused he barely had to push before it went in.

As it did, his head fell back and a groan of ecstasy tore from him. Ty felt so good gliding into him, so hot and smooth and alive. His flare pressed Anso perfectly as it squeezed past his prostate.

“Oh Lord,” Ty moaned, his grip pincering his hipbones. “Do you think it feels this good to fuck a woman?”

The question wasn’t conducive to self-control. Abruptly desperate to come himself, Anso started humping him up and down. Ty cursed and joined the motions as well as he could with his back arching off the bed. Wanting more stimulation and afraid Ty was about to shoot his load, Anso slapped a hand around his own cock.

“Unh-uh,” Ty said and slapped his hand there too.

He rubbed Anso’s prick faster than he did.

The double-speed double handjob was more than his nerves could take.

Sensation crested and crashed outward. Anso cried out hoarsely, ejaculating with such volume that his seed immediately turned both their grips slippery. The rubbing felt even better then, intensifying the orgasm. Maybe Ty knew. A second later, he made a snarling noise and filled Anso’s ass with warmth. He came in successive waves, each punctuated with strangled groans.

The evidence of Ty’s pleasure sent aftershocks through Anso. Ty always came with abandon after he’d been dominated. This time, though, he outdid himself.

His nails dug into Anso’s hips so forcefully they stung. Finally, he relaxed.

“God,” he sighed. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard since the first time you sucked me off.” His chest went up and down while Anso eased off him.

“Considering I was eighteen and insanely horny, that says something.” Anso couldn’t speak yet, he was panting too hard. He collapsed beside his friend and patted his chest soothingly.

“I’m okay,” Ty assured him. “My ass is a little sore from the paddling, but strictly in a good way.”

Anso rolled his eyes. “You might not be eighteen any longer, but you’re still insanely horny, from what I can tell.”

“And you’re not?”

He was where Ty was concerned. At his quiet exhalation, Ty squirmed onto his side to face him. His hand trailed down Anso’s center line to his groin. With a gentleness he didn’t let many see, he stroked the knuckle of one bent finger along his cock. “You’re still a little hard. I would have thought that would finish you.” The truth of his words made Anso uneasy. What they’d just done should have left him completely limp. He’d noticed nothing did lately. The forces that drove his sexuality were rattling their cage. Every day they shoved the bars a little harder, until even his sleep was broken by torrid dreams. Knowing this and facing it, however, were separate things.

“Spring’s coming,” he mumbled, eyes closing drowsily. “You know what that does to everyone’s hormones.”

Ty seemed to accept this explanation. His gentle knuckle continued to tickle him up and down, ironically increasing his sleepiness. “You’re the only one I play these games with, you know.”

“Good,” Anso slurred. “You need to be careful who you trust yourself with.” Ty’s hand shifted to his hip. “Anso?”

“Mm?”

“Are you going to mate Ellice when your father dies?” Anso dragged his eyelids up for that. “Lord, no. What makes you think I would?”

“She talks like you will. I mean, she doesn’t say it exactly, but other people understand what she means. The Vituls do have a tradition of marrying cousins.”

“Which is why my father is dying before his time!”

“I think people figure your mother being human brought enough new blood into your line.”

Anso stared at him. Ty was too sharp to be mistaken about prevailing opinion.

Could Ellice believe they were going to marry? Surely she’d noticed him pulling back from their old closeness. Unless she explained it away as him not wanting to risk temptation. Maybe everyone, Ty included, thought that was why he treated her distantly.

He sat up to look down at his friend and lover. For once, Ty’s gaze wasn’t meeting his. Anso found he didn’t like that at all. “I’m not attracted to Ellice, or not more than any normal male could help. She’s a sweet female, but in your worst mood your company appeals to me more than hers.” Ty plucked at the rumpled bedcovers. “She’d be a good political choice.” He almost sounded jealous, which wasn’t possible. Ty was the bull all the wereseals wanted, male and female alike. Hell, if they’d known what he liked to do in secret, spanking probably would become the next big fad.

“I’m not marrying her,” he said, the words emphatic. “I want a queen who makes me happy.”

He’d never said that aloud before. It sounded childish. Kings didn’t marry for happiness. Ty pressed his lips together against a smile, but at least he didn’t laugh.

“Good,” he said. “Because
I’d
be happy if you picked a queen who liked me.” Anso didn’t mention that his father thought he was going to spawn, which would render picking of any sort irrelevant. Preferring to put dealing with that off, he wriggled back down and nudged Ty’s shoulder. “Angling to be my third?” Ty shook his head and smiled faintly. Wereseal kings often ruled in triads: a queen, a king, and a trusted male intimate. Anso certainly would have offered Ty the position if he weren’t so easy with his favors. Politically speaking, with so many partners, Ty’s loyalties would always appear suspect. Fair or not, appearances mattered. The kindest thing was not to ask him to change his ways.

Indeed, the idea of Ty restricting himself in bed made Anso snort softly.

“I know I’m not
your
third,” he said, his eyes drifting shut once more. “What is my spot on your dance card? Two of twelve? Five of thirteen?”

“One of six,” Ty answered, which Anso suspected was no more than the truth.

Ty drew up his knees to bump Anso’s companionably. “I’m slowing down as I get older.”

Anso laughed. “As long as I’m number one.”

“Always,” Ty swore, the ring of honesty in it.

Anso let that vow nudge him into slumber.

* * *

Anso sat up abruptly, the blanket Ty must have covered him with dropping to his waist. It had happened then. His father was dead. From newborn pup to grayfur, Anso was responsible for Oceana now.

He scrambled out of bed and nearly fell over. Had he been screwing Ty when his father passed? Did Lord Noth guess that was why Ty was there? Ducking into the bathroom, he scrubbed a wet washcloth up and down his chest, removing the remains of his own semen. He still smelled of sex when he pulled on and tied his robe.

Well, too bad
, he thought. He’d taken comfort with a friend at a trying time.

Lord Noth was married, but presumably he’d done as much himself when he was younger.

Anso squared his shoulders and drew a long calming breath. If he truly needed his people to think him perfect, he was in trouble.

Despite knowing he was king now, the sight of dignified Lord Noth dropping to one knee took him aback.

“Your Majesty,” the noble said, his head bowed respectfully. “Please allow me to offer my sincere condolences on your loss.” The words weren’t empty. Lord Noth and his father had been known to butt heads, but he’d been a staunch ally.

“Thank you,” Anso said. “I’m sure your guidance shall be as valuable to me as it was to my father.”

Even with his head inclined, Anso saw Lord Noth’s involuntary smile.

“I know,” Anso acknowledged. “I expect you and I will disagree sometimes too. Do rise. I’m not used to talking to the top of your head.” Lord Noth rose with a shorter bow. With a start, Anso realized he was waiting for orders.

“Have the Council gather in an hour,” he said, the decision coming more easily than he expected. “My father kept me apprised, but the ministers can brief me on outstanding matters. It’s important they know I’m listening to them. We can also go over what needs to be arranged for the funeral. My father deserves full honors.”

“Very good, sire.” The Council head betrayed no sign he’d noticed Anso’s voice had gone throaty. “I’ll advise everyone to be ... succinct.” Because some of the ministers were long-winded, Anso appreciated that. Lord Noth left in the same unobtrusive fashion that he’d arrived.

“Well,” Ty said, sounding as dazed as Anso felt. “Long live the king.” Anso’s eyes spilled over. When Ty’s yellow irises met his, they shone with sympathy. “Shall I bow as well, Your Majesty?”

Anso shook his head, unable to speak right then. In bed, mastering his friend was fine. In real life, he preferred them to be equals. To his relief, Ty came to him and held him. His embrace was gentle, his shoulder warm.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, giving him a slightly awkward pat. “More than fine.

I have no doubt of it.”

Anso hugged him once, then pushed back from him.

“Thank you,” was all he managed to say.

CHAPTER THREE

ANSO’S
first month as king brought many changes into his life. Shortly following his father’s elaborate funeral at sea, he’d been moved into the royal apartments and assigned a retinue of servants. Despite being waited on hand and foot, he’d never had so little time for himself.

He’d barely had a chance to mourn.

There were meetings to attend and dinners and endless stacks of reports. Lord Noth assured him his duties would lighten as he gained experience - if only because he’d decide which tasks he truly needed to perform personally. Anso tried to take his word on this. In the last thirty days, he and Ty had been together precisely twice.

He’d had other offers - more than he knew how to handle. He simply couldn’t trust the males’ motives for wanting to sleep with him.

Bedding Anso Vitul had become a political act.

Alone for the moment, Anso stroked the courtyard porthole in the blue salon and let his lungs empty. Apart from refurnishing the bedroom with his own things, he’d left the royal suite as it was. This room included settees and tables his great-great grandmother had chosen, creating the odd sensation that he was adrift in time.

Outside the window, night had fallen. The royal coral garden bloomed beneath the soft phosphor lights, the flowerlike polyps opening to filter drifting food. Anso watched a tiny crab fend off a bright blue fish who was trying to nibble the branches that formed the crustacean’s home. Again and again the fish darted forward, only to be driven back by the crab’s sharp claws. Neither combatant seemed to tire of the battle. Anso wished he could claim as much.

Ty had promised to come by this evening, but because he’d taken over running the guards from Anso, that promise might not be kept. Anso wasn’t certain how he’d react if his lover cancelled. Along with the rest of his life, his body was exerting new and disconcerting pressures, pressures he found difficult to ignore.