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Thrown to the Lions - The Complete SeriesMoney. Excitement. Duty. Lust.
Four men have agreed to be thrown to the local pride of werelions. Each man might have had a different motive when he first applied for the position of willing human sacrifice, but one thing is guaranteed—once a man is delivered, bound and naked, to the lions' doorstep, he’s destined to receive far more than he ever bargained for. And, as for the lions who accept those sacrifices—from the leader of the pride, all the way down to the gentlest cub, they're about to find out just how much trouble humans can be. This volume contains all four stories from the Thrown to the Lions Series: Ryland’s Sacrifice, Marrick’s Promise, Ellery’s Duty and Cameron’s Pride. Ryland’s Sacrifice Principles don’t pay tuition fees. When Ryland’s doctoral maths scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices. He can borrow money from fellow student, Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts. Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions. One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice to the local pride will give him enough money to finish his PhD. It seems like a good deal—right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions. Marrick’s Promise Marrick thinks that being thrown to the lions will be the ultimate adrenaline rush, and he’s not disappointed. But his plan is to try everything life has to offer once. He has no intention of visiting the lions again. Blaine and Luther don’t expect to give any of the human sacrifices they share another thought once they leave the den. But this man is different. They have no intention of letting this one go. Ellery’s Duty As a well established dom, Ellery has been watching subs from the local leather scene disappear into the lions’ den for years, but he’s not convinced that everything is as fine as they all claim it is. He’s determined to find out what is really going on. And, if the only way he can do that is to volunteer to be thrown to the lions himself, so be it. Kefir’s never worked out what the other lions find so interesting about the human sacrifices who visit their den, but this new man is unlike any other human he’s ever met, and Kefir’s captivated. Can the smallest lion in the pride claim a man like Ellery as his pet—and is that even the way Kefir wants to think of his human mate? Cameron’s Pride Franklin knows the way the game is played. It’s the man with the money who calls the shots, and Franklin has plenty of money. When he sees a beautiful lion shifter called Caramel dancing on the stage at his favourite club, he doesn’t hesitate to reach for his wallet. And, when Caramel disappears before he can even open negotiations, he’s quick to pay a fortune in order to be thrown to the only pride of gay werelions in the area so he can find him. Cameron’s been living without a pride for years, doing whatever it takes to survive. Dancing in clubs, and doing whatever the guys who throw money at him want him to do in the alleyways behind those clubs, hasn’t given him the best opinion of humans. All he knows for sure is that the rich ones are the worst. The pride is determined to track down the lone lion that’s living in their territory and bring him safely under their care. But is it too late for Cameron to find a sense of pride—and even if he does, will he ever feel safe enough there to let a wealthy man like Franklin into his life? Facts and Figures:
Series: Thrown to the Lions - The Complete Series Length: 170k (Just over 40k per book) Genre: Erotic Romance, Paranormal, Werelions, Shifters. Pairings: Male/Male, Male/Male/Male. Published: Original four books published 2010. Collection published October 2020. |
Excerpt...
Ryland's Sacrifice - Chapter One
He wasn’t completely naked. Ryland Gilford silently repeated that fact over and over inside his head. He wasn’t completely naked. But, even though that was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
According to his careful calculations, approximately sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away. Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
Suddenly, the car he was in lurched to a stop. The seat belt tightened across his chest as he was flung forward. His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
Dragging deep lungfuls of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra—one that wouldn’t remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
A good education cost money? That was more promising. Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he’d agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he could manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
A good education cost money. University fees have to be paid. Rent has to be found. Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during each academic year would be nice, too.
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. He still felt sick to his stomach. The car turned a sharp corner, making him sway in his seat before he finally managing to right himself. The chauffeur’s driving really wasn’t helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
Still, it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows’s drivers…
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Yes, that was what he really needed to remember. Throwing himself into this stupidity might be putting him on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but that was still better than anything that put him into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial mathematics student whose funding had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
Ryland had heard far too much about the way Jason Burrows liked to call in his debts. The rumours made him out to be very inventive in certain areas. Anything had to be better than that—even this.
The car jerked to a stop once more. Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat as he realised this wasn’t just another set of traffic lights.
Unable to see anything past his blindfold, he listened as the driver got out of the car. Suddenly, the door next to him was pulled open. Cold air rushed into the back of the car. Clothes brushed against Ryland’s bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt. The driver’s breath caressed his neck.
Ryland tried to press himself tight back against the seat and the buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the spine. A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of Ryland’s arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car. He stumbled as he tried to get his balance. The chauffeur took no notice.
The gravel that crunched under the driver’s shoes bit into Ryland’s bare feet as he was marched forward. They stopped as abruptly as they’d started. A yank on Ryland’s arm kept him upright when he’d have stumbled again. It also damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket.
A doorbell rang.
The driver let go of his arm, and Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact that it felt like someone had set his shoulder on fire was actually the main thing he needed to be worried about.
Footsteps stomped over the gravel again, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
“Where are you going?” Ryland silently cursed himself. He really hadn’t intended to sound so nervous, but the words already hung in the cool evening air and it was too late to wish they’d been braver.
A car started up. Ryland turned toward it. “What the—” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no other words materialised.
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel. Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked out before he’d launched himself into this stupid mess. And, maybe if Ryland believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he would have asked every single one of the right questions.
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he really wasn’t that kind of man. If he’d let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade he’d volunteered to take part in, he wouldn’t have entered into it calm and well-informed. He’d have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
And what would he have done then? Borrow the money from Jason Burrows? Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they’d said he’d never complete his education without crawling back to them and begging for their help, as if there was any chance they’d actually help a son that they had effectively disowned years ago.
A cool breeze danced over Ryland’s skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different. He was in this now; he had no choice but to see it through. A shiver raced down his spine. The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own. It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn’t put his hands in front of his body to cover himself, that he couldn’t even see to find a bush to hide behind.
Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he had been left all alone in some nameless person’s driveway.
“Please, God, let it be the right house,” he whispered to himself. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Please, don’t let it belong to some nice little old lady who’s going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re definitely in the right place.” The words were purred just a few inches from his ear. Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his…his attacker? Or perhaps one of his owners for the rest of the night? Which would be worse?
The heat radiating from a warm body confirmed the speaker was standing within inches of him. Ryland barely had time to register that fact before bare skin brushed against him.
Ryland wasn’t the only man in the driveway who was naked. He instinctively stepped back.
What the--
An embarrassing little yelp escaped from the back of Ryland’s throat as he discovered another, equally naked, man behind him. Suddenly surrounded, he twisted around, searching blindly for an escape route.
“No playing in the driveway!” someone yelled from what Ryland guessed was the direction of the house. “Inside, all of you—now!”
A strong hand grabbed each of Ryland’s bound arms and hurried him forward.
Tile flooring replaced the gravel under his feet. Wooden floorboards replaced tiles and, in turn, gave way to thick carpet. A door slammed behind him. The room they’d reached was stiflingly hot after the chill of the driveway. The rapid change in temperature sent a shiver through him.
Without warning, the hands that had been gripping his arms disappeared. Silence surrounded him once more, broken only by the sound of logs crackling on a fire. For a few seconds, Ryland managed to focus on his actual surroundings rather than all the horrible possibilities that were tangling themselves together his mind.
The heat from the fire was warming the right side of his body. Fire on the right. Door on the left. He knew where he was. Sort of. Well, even if he didn’t, pretending he did made him feel a little bit better about the world. And it had to be better than thinking about the eyes he could feel roaming over his naked body.
Disturbed air caressed his skin. No one laid a hand on him, but he got the distinct impression he was no longer alone in the middle of the room. Someone else was there, circling him, judging him.
Against all reason, Ryland found himself hoping that whoever it was, that they would be pleased with what they saw. He wasn’t under any illusions. Guys weren’t exactly queuing around the block in the rain for him. But he wasn’t so bad. Some guys seemed to like him.
The guy who’d agreed to send him there that night had certainly seemed to like what he’d seen when Ryland had stripped down to “audition” for the part he was about to play in this stupid little game.
Ryland swallowed several times as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. A slow breath in and out failed to calm his rush towards full out panic.
“No one’s going to hurt you.” Once again, the words came from just behind his ear, but this time, they made him freeze rather than try to spin around. It was a different voice, deeper and richer than the one that had purred at him outside.
“You were told we have no interest in unwilling men, correct?”
The silence demanded an answer.
“Yes,” Ryland admitted. And he’d been desperate enough to believe it. Bloody fool…
Something touched his cheek. Ryland let out a terrified little whimper before he realised it was nothing more frightening than someone’s hair brushing against him. Impossibly soft lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder; a rough tongue rasped against his skin.
Ryland bit back another whimper as the sensation rushed straight down his spine and headed for his cock.
“Do you know what’s expected of you?”
“Whatever you want.” Ryland cleared his throat. “I have to do whatever you want for the rest of the night.” He had to. If he didn’t, he’d probably be expected to give the money back—which would be pretty bloody difficult, considering he’d already spent every last penny of it paying the remainder of his university fees.
The man standing behind Ryland made a vague noise, halfway between agreement and disagreement as he trailed his lips up Ryland’s neck. The heat from his body standing close behind Ryland overpowered the warmth from the fire, rendering the blaze insignificant, making Ryland desperate to lean back against him.
“Will you tell me what you want me to do?” Ryland asked.
The request was ignored.
Long strands of hair brushed against Ryland’s other cheek as the man moved behind him. “Have you ever taken a lion before?”
Ryland shook his head. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard all the tales that were whispered around the university. Werelions lived on campus. A man could make easy money being thrown to the lions. Oh, yes, Ryland knew all the rumours. It was gossip like that that had landed him in this mess in the first place.
Strong. Dominant. Insatiable. Werelions. Half man, half cat. They hunted in groups and shared their captured prey with the rest of the pride. In that moment, Ryland really wished he hadn’t heard the stories, almost as much as he wished the guy hadn’t said the L word. He’d sounded human. It would have been so easy to pretend that he was human.
The man—the lion—leaned forward and closed the gap between them. A hard cock brushed against Ryland’s skin. Against all reason, he felt his own cock twitch in response. The lion moved closer still, lining his body up behind Ryland’s.
Large hands settled on Ryland’s flanks, holding him still, but it didn’t feel like the lion was trying to stop him from escaping. His touch was strong, confident—it seemed to aim to reassure rather than restrain.
Ryland felt a rough tongue flick against his shoulder as the lion kissed the skin there again, and Ryland’s whole body trembled. He bowed his head as an image of a kneeling shifter invaded his mind. The possibilities of that tongue turning its attentions to his cock made him gasp.
Warped. Ryland mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He was so warped. Not to mention delusional. Like there was a hope in hell he’d be the one looking down at another man on his knees that night.
Even knowing that, logic proved a poor match for fantasy. His cock hardened further. Ryland automatically tried to bring his hands in front of his body to cover his embarrassment. The chain linking his leather cuffs rattled. His hands stayed where they were.
Muffled whispers reached him from some distant part of the room, but he couldn’t make out the words. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he realised there really was no way he could hide how much he was enjoying the lion’s touch.
The hands on his flanks slid down and settled over his hipbones. The lion’s palms were rough against his skin. It was easy to believe they had seen a great deal of work as paws. The tiny bit of air that had remained between them disappeared, and Ryland felt the lion’s body move against him with every breath. The lion was taller than him, broader, obviously stronger.
And he was just as obviously hung like…like every other lion on the planet for all Ryland knew. Strangely enough, student gossip hadn’t had anything to say on that point. It was possible that what would impress a human only represented something average to a lion.
All Ryland really knew was the cock nudging against his arse was hard and ready to play. Pre-cum smeared against his left buttock as the lion rocked his hips. Ryland’s own cock curved enthusiastically up towards his stomach in response.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he tried not to squirm within the lion’s hold. The grip on his hips tightened anyway, as if the guy knew exactly what was in his head.
“There are rules.”
The voice, deep and rich, just like the one in all his best fantasies sent another shudder through Ryland. He automatically leaned back against the scorching skin behind him. That earned him a pleased noise, almost like a purr—or how a purr might sound if it emanated from someone twice Ryland’s size. The lion’s lips vibrated against the skin on Ryland’s neck, pulling a moan from Ryland in response.
“Repeat what I just said.”
“I…” was all Ryland could manage.
“Rules,” the lion reminded him.
Ryland nodded. “Yes. Rules.”
“The word ‘spear’ ends it all. Until you say that word, I have the right to do whatever I want with you. Do you understand?”
Ryland nodded.
“What do you need to say?”
Ryland licked his lips. “Sp—” He cut himself off. “I don’t want to stop.” He didn’t realise just how true the words were until he’d already said them. He didn’t want this to stop. Every attempt at sensible thought scatted at the realisation.
“Good boy.” Rough palms slid against Ryland’s abs and pulled him back tighter against the lion’s skin, trapping Ryland’s hands between their bodies. The shifter felt entirely human, just very hot. Against all logic, Ryland found himself soothed by the guy’s strength rather than scared by it.
Lions!
The word screamed around inside his head, but it failed to freak him out the way he was sure it should. When the guy stepped back without any warning, Ryland clutched at the empty air behind him, scrabbling to find the lion with his limited reach.
He froze as he realised someone was standing in front of him now. There was no way to tell if it was the same lion who’d stood behind him. All he could do was stay very still and pray.
Something touched the back of his head where a buckle held the blindfold tight against his face. The strip of leather fell away.
Ryland blinked his eyes open. He’d been trapped behind the blindfold for so long, he couldn’t make his eyes focus. Rumours of the way the lions looked swirled inside his head. By the time the blur before him morphed into a clear image of a man, Ryland was half-expecting to find himself face-to-face with some sort of feline cartoon character.
When he saw the reality staring down at him, he blinked again. His mouth opened and closed several times. “Professor Arslan!”
The professor’s lips twitched into a small smile.
Ryland stared up at him for what felt like a minor eternity. An honest-to-God lion would have been a hell of a lot easier to wrap his mind around.
“Who were you expecting?” The amusement drained out of Professor Arslan’s expression. A predatory light sprang into his eyes.
Ryland had seen the professor look at students that way before, usually when someone was suicidal enough to try to argue about a rough grade. But he’d never realised how it would feel to have that look directed at him.
His breath caught in his throat as he automatically tried to pull his brain into gear, just in case a complex question about Medieval History was about to be fired off at him. His success was severely limited. Ryland couldn’t bring himself to feel too surprised about that. Professor Arslan was standing right there in front of him, hard and naked and…and Ryland’s limited historical knowledge be damned. The fact that Arslan was right there in a house full of shifters was all Ryland had room in his head for.
Part of him wasn’t the least bit worried about the absence of other thoughts. Nothing could ever be as important as Professor Arslan being there. And him being naked, the bit of Ryland’s brain that connected directly to his cock reminded him. The naked part of the equation was significant, too.
Ryland swallowed rapidly. Really significant. His eyes begged to be allowed to look down, but Ryland forced himself to keep his gaze on the professor’s face.
He’d always wondered what Arslan would look like if all that long dark brown hair wasn’t caught back by a strip of leather at the nape of his neck. Now he knew. It looked like a lion’s mane. Ryland took a shaky breath. Behind his back, his hands clenched into tight fists as he fought against a sudden spike of panic at the reminder of the L word.
“I asked you a question.”
Ryland nodded. Yes. Arslan had asked him a question, and everyone who had ever attended one of his lectures knew that when the Professor Arslan asked a question, you’d better bloody well know the answer.
Who had he been expecting? Quite frankly, someone who looked like they needed to pay for sex.
“I…” There was no way in hell he could say that. If he said that, then he’d end up blurting out something even more embarrassing—like the fact Professor Arslan would never have to pay for sex because damn near every student in the university who was the least bit interested in men would happily drop to their knees for him for free. And, if he told him that half the student population had a crush on him, then he’d soon be telling him which half he fell into and…
“I didn’t know what to expect, sir,” Ryland whispered.
Arslan studied him for a long time before he finally nodded his willingness to accept his answer.
Ryland let out a relieved little sigh.
“He’s one of your students?”
Ryland jumped at the reminder that other people existed in the world—existed in that very room. Before he had a chance to turn toward the voice or descend into panic, Arslan’s hand was on the back of Ryland’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. As the professor held him in place, he somehow managed to ease Ryland’s need to look over his shoulder to see who’d asked the question.
“No,” Arslan said. His tone left no room for argument as he looked past Ryland and glared at whoever had interrupted them. “He’s not one of my students.”
Ryland stared up at Arslan, wondering how a sentence that disclaimed all knowledge of him could also manage to sound as possessive as hell.
“You’re a…?” Ryland trailed off as he realised he had no idea what to call him.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. “A shifter? A were? A lion? Yes.”
Ryland swallowed and nodded as if that was nothing to worry about. His wrists pulled nervously at his cuffs.
Since Arslan could never need to tie someone up to ensure they did as he wished, the bondage was obviously there because he liked it. The professor wasn’t just a lion. He was a kinky lion. Ryland wasn’t sure if that was objectively better or worse, although his cock certainly wasn’t complaining about the possibility.
Suddenly, Arslan reached behind Ryland. In a second, the cuffs were unbuckled from his wrists. He tossed them out of Ryland’s line of sight, perhaps to another lion. Ryland didn’t hear them land. He didn’t try to look in the direction where they disappeared either.
His shoulders ached, but he still kept his freed hands behind him and waited for Arslan to give him permission to move them.
The professor had always been able to make him sit still through a two-hour lecture with nothing more than a glare in his general direction. No one in their right mind tapped his pen against his desk or fidgeted with his phone when Arslan was in charge of the room. Ryland tried to tell himself that standing there naked with his hands behind his back was no different to minding his manners in a lecture hall. But it wasn’t the same; it felt far more natural.
“I thought you didn’t do students.”
Arslan’s fingers tightened in Ryland’s hair. Nails that suddenly felt long enough to resemble a lion’s claws scraped against his scalp. The professor snarled at someone outside Ryland’s field of vision.
The harsh, angry little noise wasn’t directed at him, but Ryland still felt his heart hesitate before taking its next beat.
The professor’s snarl morphed into words without any clear line being drawn between the two. “Do you have something to say, Blaine?”
*
Professor Joseph Arslan quickly searched the gloom that lingered outside the bright circle of firelight. As he met Blaine’s eyes, the younger lion took a step back and dropped his gaze. Arslan watched Blaine’s posture change further as he apparently realised just how badly he’d misjudged the situation.
Arslan wasn’t inclined to be sympathetic. It was well past time the boy learned to show due respect to the leader of his pride. Blaine was more than old enough to recognise the situations when he might be allowed to play silly games and when the moment was too serious for such foolishness to be tolerated.
If the younger lions couldn’t look at the man currently standing in their midst and tell that he was different to all the sacrifices who had come before him, then Arslan had no problem with calling them to heel and reminding them of their respective places in his pride.
Blaine kept his eyes down. Satisfied for the moment, Arslan looked, in turn, at each of the other lions who lurked around the edges of the room, daring any of them to speak.
No one said a word. No one held his gaze for longer than a second before they looked down either. Arslan turned his attention back to Ryland. He quickly dropped his gaze, too.
It was a far more instinctive reaction than most of the lions had demonstrated. It was a natural inclination to a human form of submission rather than anything like an understanding of what it meant to be part of a pride, but it was still beautiful.
Arslan gentled his grip on Ryland’s hair and stroked his fingers through the ruffled blond strands. Putting the fear of Arslan into other lions was one thing, but there was no reason for him to scare his new pet.
Dipping his head, Arslan brushed his lips against Ryland’s temple. Even that little hint of a kiss seemed to ease his anxieties. His breathing became steadier. His pulse ceased to race quite so quickly. Part of Ryland seemed to realise that the leader of the pride was pleased with him, and that meant he was safe.
If his improved understanding of the situation had eased most of his fear, it hadn’t dented his desire at all. The scent of Ryland’s arousal hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Half a step brought their bodies together. Ryland let out a little mew of unexpected pleasure as the tip of his erection brushed against Arslan’s hip, sounding for all the world like an eager cub.
But, however enthusiastic he was about feeling their bodies rub together, he still didn’t reach out and try to pull Arslan closer. He seemed to appreciate that he’d given control of such decisions to someone else.
Arslan smiled slightly. He’d certainly been right to see the potential in him. And he’d been right to wait and watch the younger man sitting in the back row of his lecture hall, too. He’d been very right to let Ryland eavesdrop on a subject he wasn’t even studying. Patience had its rewards.
Ryland rocked forward ever so slightly, leaning into Arslan’s touch.
“Do you know what it means to be with a lion, to be his pet?”
Ryland shook his head.
“If you don’t wish to know what it means, you should say your word.”
Ryland blinked up at him. His eyes were half closed, hooded with a depth of pleasure that seemed unfamiliar to him. But, even as he stood there, he appeared to pull together the rough edges of tattered human instinct and mould it into something that might one day resemble a lion’s innate ability to do as his nature intended.
Arslan saw Ryland’s answer reflected in the deep blue of his eyes long before the boy managed to frame a single syllable, but he forced himself to wait for the words, too.
“Please, sir?” Ryland finally whispered.
And, as easily as that, Ryland was his. He was his pet now, and the world was a wonderful place.
Arslan tugged at the short blond strands of Ryland’s hair, tilting his head back. Their mouths met. Arslan ran his tongue over the seam between Ryland’s lips, and they immediately parted, welcoming him. Ryland moaned into the kiss. Hands he’d kept behind his back for so long, finally broke their invisible bonds. He clutched at Arslan’s shoulders, pulling himself onto his tiptoes as he tried to match their heights.
He was apparently far too used to dealing with young men his own age. He didn’t seem to know what to do with a fully-grown man, let alone with a lion. Arslan slid his arms around Ryland, pulling him closer as he steadied him. His claws crept out as he ran his hands over Ryland’s back, lightly scratching his skin, leaving clear marks to show any other lion who might catch sight of his new pet that Ryland had already been claimed.
As he traced his way down Ryland’s skin, Arslan stretched his hands out to their full span, ensuring that anyone who saw the scratches would also know the size of the shifter that had claimed him. Not the most civilised statement, perhaps, but it never hurt to be clear about such things.
Ryland bucked against him in apparent approval as he felt the gentle scratches break his skin. He pressed himself tightly into Arslan’s body, rubbing their cocks together as he damn near tried to climb up Arslan’s taller frame to make their bodies fit together the way he wanted them to.
But there was more than one way to arrange two men’s bodies. Arslan broke the kiss and spun Ryland around. Without his bound hands in the way, Arslan was able to line himself up against Ryland’s back properly.
Ryland instantly murmured his approval. Pushing his arse back against him in encouragement, he dropped his head back to rest it against Arslan’s shoulder.
His eyes were closed as if to better savour each sensation his new master offered. Arslan lapped at a tempting patch of skin on Ryland’s neck, gently tasting him. Ryland might not have been able to see the other lions watching them, but Arslan knew how closely they were being observed.
He looked up. Blaine and Luther were staring back at him, just as he’d expected. Their own desire for Ryland was obvious, but neither brat was going to get their way that night.
Tonight, the pair would have to make do with each other. Even as he saw that realisation dawn in their expressions, Arslan noticed Luther reach out to stroke his fingertips down Blaine’s spine.
Instinct demanded that Arslan deal with his pride as well as with his new pet. He met another set of watchful eyes, then another. Bowing his head over Ryland’s throat, he placed a gentle nip to his neck.
Ryland couldn’t have truly understood the significance of it, but he still seemed to thrive on that type of touch. His hand shot up to bury itself in Arslan’s hair, trying to pull him back to his neck, apparently desperate to feel the scrape of teeth across his skin again.
Arslan murmured praise and let the sound of his pleasure vibrate against Ryland’s throat instead. Ryland was quick to whimper his enjoyment of that, too.
Placing his hand on the Ryland’s shoulder, Arslan pressed lightly down. Eyes still closed, Ryland frowned, as if he didn’t understand, but his expression cleared as he seemed to realise what Arslan wanted him to do and why. He dropped to his knees on the rug before the fireplace without any extra hesitation. Reaching out, he settled his hands on the floor in front him without needing to be prompted further.
As Arslan lowered himself to his knees behind Ryland, he reached out and stroked his hand down his spine. Ryland arched into his touch as he shuffled his knees further apart on the rug, offering himself through pure instinct.
No lion in his right mind could have been expected to resist such a beautiful invitation. Arslan snatched up the tube of lube from beside the fireplace and smeared it on his fingers. It was warm from the blaze, and Ryland murmured his appreciation as Arslan circled his hole with the tips of his fingers.
“Do you like that, pet?” Arslan whispered to him, his voice rough with his own desire, even as he fought to speak softly. It took every bit of his human side to remind the lion part of his psyche that words were important when dealing with those who hadn’t been raised to understand their own nature, raised to follow their intuition like a lion.
If he let Ryland get too lost in his newfound instincts, he’d be running the risk that the boy would be afraid when he looked back over their time together and tried to understand what had happened. That wasn’t acceptable.
Lions had to look after their human pets—they didn’t let them get scared.
Several seconds passed before Ryland seemed able to process Arslan’s question. He nodded rapidly. At the same time, he pushed back against Arslan’s fingers, impatiently trying to squirm his way onto the digits.
Arslan slid one finger inside him, quick to reward an honest answer. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t stop trying to push back around the finger.
He might not have taken a lion before, but he obviously had some degree of experience with human men. Arslan pushed aside a surge of jealousy and worked another finger in alongside the first. Ryland moaned his pleasure as Arslan rubbed the tips of the digits against his prostate.
Then, as Arslan watched, Ryland seemed to muster his self-control. He fell still, giving every decision, every movement over to his new master. Arslan stared down at him, mesmerised by the pure beauty of the boy’s submission. No lion who saw him could fail to realise exactly who Ryland belonged to right then.
Crooking his fingers, Arslan coaxed a purring little noise out of Ryland, but the boy didn’t move. He remained perfectly still as Arslan continued to work his fingers inside him. So good. Arslan stroked his free hand across Ryland’s back, soothing him down, praising him for digging up instincts humans always seemed to bury too deeply.
Ryland seemed to like that gentle kind of caress. He murmured his pleasure, but he still stayed very still, as if worried that even the tiniest movement might break some sort of spell surrounding them. Arslan thrust his fingers deeper inside him, encouraging him to relax, until his pleased little noises formed a constant stream of audible delight.
Ryland’s head dropped forward. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.” It was the only word he seemed to be able to remember. Then, he found another one. “Please, sir.”
The two words combined into a plea that couldn’t be refused. Taking his fingers away, Arslan quickly slicked his cock with extra lube. When he glanced up, Ryland was looking over his shoulder, desperation filling his gaze.
All thoughts of human words and traditions faded from Arslan’s mind. All he could do was let the lion side of him speak. The look in Ryland’s eyes, every line of his body, his scent, everything about him screamed his submission and his need.
Arslan offered the tip of his cock up to Ryland’s hole. As he pushed forward very slowly, Ryland gasped. Arslan ran a palm down Ryland’s back once more, before stroking around his torso to wrap his hand around his cock.
Gently squeezing Ryland’s dick, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the head. Ryland clenched around Arslan’s cock in response. His head dropped forward as if the combined sensations were too much for him. Arslan continued to push deeper as the pleasure Ryland took from his touch slowly relaxed him. Finally, Arslan was buried inside him to the hilt.
For a long time, the only thing that moved was Arslan’s hand underneath Ryland’s body as he continued to lightly stroke his dick, slow and simple. Arslan took Ryland to the edge and held him there as he waited for Ryland’s body to not just relax around him, but to truly welcome the feel of a hard cock stretching him open, filling him completely.
Another minute passed. Ryland began to rock within Arslan’s grasp, not so much pushing himself forward into Arslan’s hand, as much as pushing himself back onto his cock, silently begging Arslan to move.
Arslan stopped teasing then. He removed his fingers from where they’d played along Ryland’s erection. Steadying Ryland with hands on either side of his body, Arslan began to rock his hips. At first, the movement was tiny, just a test of what his new pet was able to take.
Ryland gasped. His head was bowed so low, his forehead was almost touching the carpet, but it didn’t seem to be an expression of submission as much as he appeared to be completely overwhelmed by his own pleasure and barely able to support himself.
Arslan pulled back further, until only the tip of his dick remained inside him. Ryland held his breath, as if he thought Arslan might leave him entirely. He sighed his relief when Arslan pushed back into him, bringing them as close together as was humanly possible.
Again, and again, one slow, controlled thrust, then another, until Ryland’s breaths took up the same rhythm as their movements, and Arslan was half-sure the boy would hyperventilate before he had any chance of coming.
Leaning forward, Arslan let his new pet feel his master’s chest pressed close against his back and offered him another, safer, rhythm to follow.
“That’s right, pet. Follow your master.”
He wasn’t sure if Ryland consciously understood the words, but his burgeoning instincts seemed to realise what was being offered to him. His breaths fell in time with Arslan’s.
“Perfect, pet.” Arslan pressed a kiss against Ryland’s shoulder as he felt Ryland arch his back, looking for more contact, more everything.
Slow, measured thrusts could only take them so far. Arslan wasn’t sure which of them was acting like more of an inexperienced cub right then—the man who had never been touched by a lion, or the lion himself. His responses to Ryland felt so far beyond his control, it seemed impossible to believe that anything he’d done with another human had, in any way, prepared him for this particular man.
He reached under Ryland’s body and took him in hand once more. A few more quick strokes and Ryland couldn’t hold back. He bucked underneath Arslan, and it took all of his control to ride it out as Ryland clenched around him and yelled his pleasure into the room.
Ryland’s muscles seemed to give out on him as soon as he’d come. He collapsed forward on to the rug. Arslan went with him, releasing his grip on Ryland’s dick, but still keeping their bodies joined snugly together. Ryland rested his temple against one of his forearms as he struggled to catch his breath. His face was turned to the side. For the first time since he’d looked over his shoulder, Arslan could see his expression.
Such peace, such perfection. Arslan froze, still buried deep inside Ryland’s body.
“Don’t stop, sir,” Ryland whispered. “Please, don’t stop…”
Arslan rocked his hips, very slowly.
Supporting most of his frame, he let just enough of his weight rest on Ryland to ensure his pet would be able to feel every movement—not just feel his master’s cock inside him, but feel skin moving against skin and the heat of his master’s body enveloping him.
Ryland continued to murmur his pleasure, but they were slow sleepy sounds now, as if his connection with his master now provided quiet contentment, rather than the waves of ecstasy that had shot through him as he’d come.
Arslan didn’t want to stop either, but as slow and careful as all his movements were, each one still pushed him closer to the edge. Even a lion couldn’t last forever.
He thrust deeper inside Ryland and barely held back a roar as his orgasm tore through him, and he spilled inside Ryland’s body for the first time.
Ryland gasped. His eyes fluttered open before dropping closed again as Arslan fell still.
Arslan let a little more of his weight rest against Ryland’s body as he offered a soft lick to his shoulder. He forced himself to pull away far enough to separate their bodies but couldn’t convince himself to move any further than that from his new pet’s side. They remained in contact, allowing him to feel every breath Ryland took as they lay there, sensing every little change in his mood while his body half-covered Ryland’s smaller frame.
“Hush,” Arslan whispered to him. “That’s right; rest now.”
He couldn’t ever remember feeling so protective of any human who had come to them, or of anyone at all—not even the lions in his own pride. He laid one more gentle lick on Ryland’s neck. The boy made a sleepy sated noise and curled slightly on one side, arching his back as he invited Arslan to spoon behind him more comfortably.
Arslan smiled against Ryland’s shoulder. He’d been so right to keep an eye on him. He stroked his hand over Ryland’s skin again. Even stretched out in front of the fire, he had that very slightly cold feeling humans always seemed to possess. Arslan moulded their bodies more closely together, automatically seeking to keep his pet warm and content.
A sudden bang on the other side of the room made Ryland jerk and gasp. Arslan reached over him and set his palm on the far side of the rug, instinctively protecting the boy with his own body as he turned and snarled at the disturbance.
Ryland's Sacrifice - Chapter One
He wasn’t completely naked. Ryland Gilford silently repeated that fact over and over inside his head. He wasn’t completely naked. But, even though that was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
According to his careful calculations, approximately sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away. Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
Suddenly, the car he was in lurched to a stop. The seat belt tightened across his chest as he was flung forward. His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
Dragging deep lungfuls of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra—one that wouldn’t remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
A good education cost money? That was more promising. Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he’d agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he could manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
A good education cost money. University fees have to be paid. Rent has to be found. Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during each academic year would be nice, too.
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. He still felt sick to his stomach. The car turned a sharp corner, making him sway in his seat before he finally managing to right himself. The chauffeur’s driving really wasn’t helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
Still, it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows’s drivers…
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Yes, that was what he really needed to remember. Throwing himself into this stupidity might be putting him on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but that was still better than anything that put him into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial mathematics student whose funding had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
Ryland had heard far too much about the way Jason Burrows liked to call in his debts. The rumours made him out to be very inventive in certain areas. Anything had to be better than that—even this.
The car jerked to a stop once more. Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat as he realised this wasn’t just another set of traffic lights.
Unable to see anything past his blindfold, he listened as the driver got out of the car. Suddenly, the door next to him was pulled open. Cold air rushed into the back of the car. Clothes brushed against Ryland’s bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt. The driver’s breath caressed his neck.
Ryland tried to press himself tight back against the seat and the buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the spine. A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of Ryland’s arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car. He stumbled as he tried to get his balance. The chauffeur took no notice.
The gravel that crunched under the driver’s shoes bit into Ryland’s bare feet as he was marched forward. They stopped as abruptly as they’d started. A yank on Ryland’s arm kept him upright when he’d have stumbled again. It also damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket.
A doorbell rang.
The driver let go of his arm, and Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact that it felt like someone had set his shoulder on fire was actually the main thing he needed to be worried about.
Footsteps stomped over the gravel again, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
“Where are you going?” Ryland silently cursed himself. He really hadn’t intended to sound so nervous, but the words already hung in the cool evening air and it was too late to wish they’d been braver.
A car started up. Ryland turned toward it. “What the—” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no other words materialised.
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel. Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked out before he’d launched himself into this stupid mess. And, maybe if Ryland believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he would have asked every single one of the right questions.
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he really wasn’t that kind of man. If he’d let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade he’d volunteered to take part in, he wouldn’t have entered into it calm and well-informed. He’d have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
And what would he have done then? Borrow the money from Jason Burrows? Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they’d said he’d never complete his education without crawling back to them and begging for their help, as if there was any chance they’d actually help a son that they had effectively disowned years ago.
A cool breeze danced over Ryland’s skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different. He was in this now; he had no choice but to see it through. A shiver raced down his spine. The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own. It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn’t put his hands in front of his body to cover himself, that he couldn’t even see to find a bush to hide behind.
Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he had been left all alone in some nameless person’s driveway.
“Please, God, let it be the right house,” he whispered to himself. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Please, don’t let it belong to some nice little old lady who’s going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re definitely in the right place.” The words were purred just a few inches from his ear. Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his…his attacker? Or perhaps one of his owners for the rest of the night? Which would be worse?
The heat radiating from a warm body confirmed the speaker was standing within inches of him. Ryland barely had time to register that fact before bare skin brushed against him.
Ryland wasn’t the only man in the driveway who was naked. He instinctively stepped back.
What the--
An embarrassing little yelp escaped from the back of Ryland’s throat as he discovered another, equally naked, man behind him. Suddenly surrounded, he twisted around, searching blindly for an escape route.
“No playing in the driveway!” someone yelled from what Ryland guessed was the direction of the house. “Inside, all of you—now!”
A strong hand grabbed each of Ryland’s bound arms and hurried him forward.
Tile flooring replaced the gravel under his feet. Wooden floorboards replaced tiles and, in turn, gave way to thick carpet. A door slammed behind him. The room they’d reached was stiflingly hot after the chill of the driveway. The rapid change in temperature sent a shiver through him.
Without warning, the hands that had been gripping his arms disappeared. Silence surrounded him once more, broken only by the sound of logs crackling on a fire. For a few seconds, Ryland managed to focus on his actual surroundings rather than all the horrible possibilities that were tangling themselves together his mind.
The heat from the fire was warming the right side of his body. Fire on the right. Door on the left. He knew where he was. Sort of. Well, even if he didn’t, pretending he did made him feel a little bit better about the world. And it had to be better than thinking about the eyes he could feel roaming over his naked body.
Disturbed air caressed his skin. No one laid a hand on him, but he got the distinct impression he was no longer alone in the middle of the room. Someone else was there, circling him, judging him.
Against all reason, Ryland found himself hoping that whoever it was, that they would be pleased with what they saw. He wasn’t under any illusions. Guys weren’t exactly queuing around the block in the rain for him. But he wasn’t so bad. Some guys seemed to like him.
The guy who’d agreed to send him there that night had certainly seemed to like what he’d seen when Ryland had stripped down to “audition” for the part he was about to play in this stupid little game.
Ryland swallowed several times as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. A slow breath in and out failed to calm his rush towards full out panic.
“No one’s going to hurt you.” Once again, the words came from just behind his ear, but this time, they made him freeze rather than try to spin around. It was a different voice, deeper and richer than the one that had purred at him outside.
“You were told we have no interest in unwilling men, correct?”
The silence demanded an answer.
“Yes,” Ryland admitted. And he’d been desperate enough to believe it. Bloody fool…
Something touched his cheek. Ryland let out a terrified little whimper before he realised it was nothing more frightening than someone’s hair brushing against him. Impossibly soft lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder; a rough tongue rasped against his skin.
Ryland bit back another whimper as the sensation rushed straight down his spine and headed for his cock.
“Do you know what’s expected of you?”
“Whatever you want.” Ryland cleared his throat. “I have to do whatever you want for the rest of the night.” He had to. If he didn’t, he’d probably be expected to give the money back—which would be pretty bloody difficult, considering he’d already spent every last penny of it paying the remainder of his university fees.
The man standing behind Ryland made a vague noise, halfway between agreement and disagreement as he trailed his lips up Ryland’s neck. The heat from his body standing close behind Ryland overpowered the warmth from the fire, rendering the blaze insignificant, making Ryland desperate to lean back against him.
“Will you tell me what you want me to do?” Ryland asked.
The request was ignored.
Long strands of hair brushed against Ryland’s other cheek as the man moved behind him. “Have you ever taken a lion before?”
Ryland shook his head. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard all the tales that were whispered around the university. Werelions lived on campus. A man could make easy money being thrown to the lions. Oh, yes, Ryland knew all the rumours. It was gossip like that that had landed him in this mess in the first place.
Strong. Dominant. Insatiable. Werelions. Half man, half cat. They hunted in groups and shared their captured prey with the rest of the pride. In that moment, Ryland really wished he hadn’t heard the stories, almost as much as he wished the guy hadn’t said the L word. He’d sounded human. It would have been so easy to pretend that he was human.
The man—the lion—leaned forward and closed the gap between them. A hard cock brushed against Ryland’s skin. Against all reason, he felt his own cock twitch in response. The lion moved closer still, lining his body up behind Ryland’s.
Large hands settled on Ryland’s flanks, holding him still, but it didn’t feel like the lion was trying to stop him from escaping. His touch was strong, confident—it seemed to aim to reassure rather than restrain.
Ryland felt a rough tongue flick against his shoulder as the lion kissed the skin there again, and Ryland’s whole body trembled. He bowed his head as an image of a kneeling shifter invaded his mind. The possibilities of that tongue turning its attentions to his cock made him gasp.
Warped. Ryland mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He was so warped. Not to mention delusional. Like there was a hope in hell he’d be the one looking down at another man on his knees that night.
Even knowing that, logic proved a poor match for fantasy. His cock hardened further. Ryland automatically tried to bring his hands in front of his body to cover his embarrassment. The chain linking his leather cuffs rattled. His hands stayed where they were.
Muffled whispers reached him from some distant part of the room, but he couldn’t make out the words. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he realised there really was no way he could hide how much he was enjoying the lion’s touch.
The hands on his flanks slid down and settled over his hipbones. The lion’s palms were rough against his skin. It was easy to believe they had seen a great deal of work as paws. The tiny bit of air that had remained between them disappeared, and Ryland felt the lion’s body move against him with every breath. The lion was taller than him, broader, obviously stronger.
And he was just as obviously hung like…like every other lion on the planet for all Ryland knew. Strangely enough, student gossip hadn’t had anything to say on that point. It was possible that what would impress a human only represented something average to a lion.
All Ryland really knew was the cock nudging against his arse was hard and ready to play. Pre-cum smeared against his left buttock as the lion rocked his hips. Ryland’s own cock curved enthusiastically up towards his stomach in response.
Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he tried not to squirm within the lion’s hold. The grip on his hips tightened anyway, as if the guy knew exactly what was in his head.
“There are rules.”
The voice, deep and rich, just like the one in all his best fantasies sent another shudder through Ryland. He automatically leaned back against the scorching skin behind him. That earned him a pleased noise, almost like a purr—or how a purr might sound if it emanated from someone twice Ryland’s size. The lion’s lips vibrated against the skin on Ryland’s neck, pulling a moan from Ryland in response.
“Repeat what I just said.”
“I…” was all Ryland could manage.
“Rules,” the lion reminded him.
Ryland nodded. “Yes. Rules.”
“The word ‘spear’ ends it all. Until you say that word, I have the right to do whatever I want with you. Do you understand?”
Ryland nodded.
“What do you need to say?”
Ryland licked his lips. “Sp—” He cut himself off. “I don’t want to stop.” He didn’t realise just how true the words were until he’d already said them. He didn’t want this to stop. Every attempt at sensible thought scatted at the realisation.
“Good boy.” Rough palms slid against Ryland’s abs and pulled him back tighter against the lion’s skin, trapping Ryland’s hands between their bodies. The shifter felt entirely human, just very hot. Against all logic, Ryland found himself soothed by the guy’s strength rather than scared by it.
Lions!
The word screamed around inside his head, but it failed to freak him out the way he was sure it should. When the guy stepped back without any warning, Ryland clutched at the empty air behind him, scrabbling to find the lion with his limited reach.
He froze as he realised someone was standing in front of him now. There was no way to tell if it was the same lion who’d stood behind him. All he could do was stay very still and pray.
Something touched the back of his head where a buckle held the blindfold tight against his face. The strip of leather fell away.
Ryland blinked his eyes open. He’d been trapped behind the blindfold for so long, he couldn’t make his eyes focus. Rumours of the way the lions looked swirled inside his head. By the time the blur before him morphed into a clear image of a man, Ryland was half-expecting to find himself face-to-face with some sort of feline cartoon character.
When he saw the reality staring down at him, he blinked again. His mouth opened and closed several times. “Professor Arslan!”
The professor’s lips twitched into a small smile.
Ryland stared up at him for what felt like a minor eternity. An honest-to-God lion would have been a hell of a lot easier to wrap his mind around.
“Who were you expecting?” The amusement drained out of Professor Arslan’s expression. A predatory light sprang into his eyes.
Ryland had seen the professor look at students that way before, usually when someone was suicidal enough to try to argue about a rough grade. But he’d never realised how it would feel to have that look directed at him.
His breath caught in his throat as he automatically tried to pull his brain into gear, just in case a complex question about Medieval History was about to be fired off at him. His success was severely limited. Ryland couldn’t bring himself to feel too surprised about that. Professor Arslan was standing right there in front of him, hard and naked and…and Ryland’s limited historical knowledge be damned. The fact that Arslan was right there in a house full of shifters was all Ryland had room in his head for.
Part of him wasn’t the least bit worried about the absence of other thoughts. Nothing could ever be as important as Professor Arslan being there. And him being naked, the bit of Ryland’s brain that connected directly to his cock reminded him. The naked part of the equation was significant, too.
Ryland swallowed rapidly. Really significant. His eyes begged to be allowed to look down, but Ryland forced himself to keep his gaze on the professor’s face.
He’d always wondered what Arslan would look like if all that long dark brown hair wasn’t caught back by a strip of leather at the nape of his neck. Now he knew. It looked like a lion’s mane. Ryland took a shaky breath. Behind his back, his hands clenched into tight fists as he fought against a sudden spike of panic at the reminder of the L word.
“I asked you a question.”
Ryland nodded. Yes. Arslan had asked him a question, and everyone who had ever attended one of his lectures knew that when the Professor Arslan asked a question, you’d better bloody well know the answer.
Who had he been expecting? Quite frankly, someone who looked like they needed to pay for sex.
“I…” There was no way in hell he could say that. If he said that, then he’d end up blurting out something even more embarrassing—like the fact Professor Arslan would never have to pay for sex because damn near every student in the university who was the least bit interested in men would happily drop to their knees for him for free. And, if he told him that half the student population had a crush on him, then he’d soon be telling him which half he fell into and…
“I didn’t know what to expect, sir,” Ryland whispered.
Arslan studied him for a long time before he finally nodded his willingness to accept his answer.
Ryland let out a relieved little sigh.
“He’s one of your students?”
Ryland jumped at the reminder that other people existed in the world—existed in that very room. Before he had a chance to turn toward the voice or descend into panic, Arslan’s hand was on the back of Ryland’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. As the professor held him in place, he somehow managed to ease Ryland’s need to look over his shoulder to see who’d asked the question.
“No,” Arslan said. His tone left no room for argument as he looked past Ryland and glared at whoever had interrupted them. “He’s not one of my students.”
Ryland stared up at Arslan, wondering how a sentence that disclaimed all knowledge of him could also manage to sound as possessive as hell.
“You’re a…?” Ryland trailed off as he realised he had no idea what to call him.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. “A shifter? A were? A lion? Yes.”
Ryland swallowed and nodded as if that was nothing to worry about. His wrists pulled nervously at his cuffs.
Since Arslan could never need to tie someone up to ensure they did as he wished, the bondage was obviously there because he liked it. The professor wasn’t just a lion. He was a kinky lion. Ryland wasn’t sure if that was objectively better or worse, although his cock certainly wasn’t complaining about the possibility.
Suddenly, Arslan reached behind Ryland. In a second, the cuffs were unbuckled from his wrists. He tossed them out of Ryland’s line of sight, perhaps to another lion. Ryland didn’t hear them land. He didn’t try to look in the direction where they disappeared either.
His shoulders ached, but he still kept his freed hands behind him and waited for Arslan to give him permission to move them.
The professor had always been able to make him sit still through a two-hour lecture with nothing more than a glare in his general direction. No one in their right mind tapped his pen against his desk or fidgeted with his phone when Arslan was in charge of the room. Ryland tried to tell himself that standing there naked with his hands behind his back was no different to minding his manners in a lecture hall. But it wasn’t the same; it felt far more natural.
“I thought you didn’t do students.”
Arslan’s fingers tightened in Ryland’s hair. Nails that suddenly felt long enough to resemble a lion’s claws scraped against his scalp. The professor snarled at someone outside Ryland’s field of vision.
The harsh, angry little noise wasn’t directed at him, but Ryland still felt his heart hesitate before taking its next beat.
The professor’s snarl morphed into words without any clear line being drawn between the two. “Do you have something to say, Blaine?”
*
Professor Joseph Arslan quickly searched the gloom that lingered outside the bright circle of firelight. As he met Blaine’s eyes, the younger lion took a step back and dropped his gaze. Arslan watched Blaine’s posture change further as he apparently realised just how badly he’d misjudged the situation.
Arslan wasn’t inclined to be sympathetic. It was well past time the boy learned to show due respect to the leader of his pride. Blaine was more than old enough to recognise the situations when he might be allowed to play silly games and when the moment was too serious for such foolishness to be tolerated.
If the younger lions couldn’t look at the man currently standing in their midst and tell that he was different to all the sacrifices who had come before him, then Arslan had no problem with calling them to heel and reminding them of their respective places in his pride.
Blaine kept his eyes down. Satisfied for the moment, Arslan looked, in turn, at each of the other lions who lurked around the edges of the room, daring any of them to speak.
No one said a word. No one held his gaze for longer than a second before they looked down either. Arslan turned his attention back to Ryland. He quickly dropped his gaze, too.
It was a far more instinctive reaction than most of the lions had demonstrated. It was a natural inclination to a human form of submission rather than anything like an understanding of what it meant to be part of a pride, but it was still beautiful.
Arslan gentled his grip on Ryland’s hair and stroked his fingers through the ruffled blond strands. Putting the fear of Arslan into other lions was one thing, but there was no reason for him to scare his new pet.
Dipping his head, Arslan brushed his lips against Ryland’s temple. Even that little hint of a kiss seemed to ease his anxieties. His breathing became steadier. His pulse ceased to race quite so quickly. Part of Ryland seemed to realise that the leader of the pride was pleased with him, and that meant he was safe.
If his improved understanding of the situation had eased most of his fear, it hadn’t dented his desire at all. The scent of Ryland’s arousal hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Half a step brought their bodies together. Ryland let out a little mew of unexpected pleasure as the tip of his erection brushed against Arslan’s hip, sounding for all the world like an eager cub.
But, however enthusiastic he was about feeling their bodies rub together, he still didn’t reach out and try to pull Arslan closer. He seemed to appreciate that he’d given control of such decisions to someone else.
Arslan smiled slightly. He’d certainly been right to see the potential in him. And he’d been right to wait and watch the younger man sitting in the back row of his lecture hall, too. He’d been very right to let Ryland eavesdrop on a subject he wasn’t even studying. Patience had its rewards.
Ryland rocked forward ever so slightly, leaning into Arslan’s touch.
“Do you know what it means to be with a lion, to be his pet?”
Ryland shook his head.
“If you don’t wish to know what it means, you should say your word.”
Ryland blinked up at him. His eyes were half closed, hooded with a depth of pleasure that seemed unfamiliar to him. But, even as he stood there, he appeared to pull together the rough edges of tattered human instinct and mould it into something that might one day resemble a lion’s innate ability to do as his nature intended.
Arslan saw Ryland’s answer reflected in the deep blue of his eyes long before the boy managed to frame a single syllable, but he forced himself to wait for the words, too.
“Please, sir?” Ryland finally whispered.
And, as easily as that, Ryland was his. He was his pet now, and the world was a wonderful place.
Arslan tugged at the short blond strands of Ryland’s hair, tilting his head back. Their mouths met. Arslan ran his tongue over the seam between Ryland’s lips, and they immediately parted, welcoming him. Ryland moaned into the kiss. Hands he’d kept behind his back for so long, finally broke their invisible bonds. He clutched at Arslan’s shoulders, pulling himself onto his tiptoes as he tried to match their heights.
He was apparently far too used to dealing with young men his own age. He didn’t seem to know what to do with a fully-grown man, let alone with a lion. Arslan slid his arms around Ryland, pulling him closer as he steadied him. His claws crept out as he ran his hands over Ryland’s back, lightly scratching his skin, leaving clear marks to show any other lion who might catch sight of his new pet that Ryland had already been claimed.
As he traced his way down Ryland’s skin, Arslan stretched his hands out to their full span, ensuring that anyone who saw the scratches would also know the size of the shifter that had claimed him. Not the most civilised statement, perhaps, but it never hurt to be clear about such things.
Ryland bucked against him in apparent approval as he felt the gentle scratches break his skin. He pressed himself tightly into Arslan’s body, rubbing their cocks together as he damn near tried to climb up Arslan’s taller frame to make their bodies fit together the way he wanted them to.
But there was more than one way to arrange two men’s bodies. Arslan broke the kiss and spun Ryland around. Without his bound hands in the way, Arslan was able to line himself up against Ryland’s back properly.
Ryland instantly murmured his approval. Pushing his arse back against him in encouragement, he dropped his head back to rest it against Arslan’s shoulder.
His eyes were closed as if to better savour each sensation his new master offered. Arslan lapped at a tempting patch of skin on Ryland’s neck, gently tasting him. Ryland might not have been able to see the other lions watching them, but Arslan knew how closely they were being observed.
He looked up. Blaine and Luther were staring back at him, just as he’d expected. Their own desire for Ryland was obvious, but neither brat was going to get their way that night.
Tonight, the pair would have to make do with each other. Even as he saw that realisation dawn in their expressions, Arslan noticed Luther reach out to stroke his fingertips down Blaine’s spine.
Instinct demanded that Arslan deal with his pride as well as with his new pet. He met another set of watchful eyes, then another. Bowing his head over Ryland’s throat, he placed a gentle nip to his neck.
Ryland couldn’t have truly understood the significance of it, but he still seemed to thrive on that type of touch. His hand shot up to bury itself in Arslan’s hair, trying to pull him back to his neck, apparently desperate to feel the scrape of teeth across his skin again.
Arslan murmured praise and let the sound of his pleasure vibrate against Ryland’s throat instead. Ryland was quick to whimper his enjoyment of that, too.
Placing his hand on the Ryland’s shoulder, Arslan pressed lightly down. Eyes still closed, Ryland frowned, as if he didn’t understand, but his expression cleared as he seemed to realise what Arslan wanted him to do and why. He dropped to his knees on the rug before the fireplace without any extra hesitation. Reaching out, he settled his hands on the floor in front him without needing to be prompted further.
As Arslan lowered himself to his knees behind Ryland, he reached out and stroked his hand down his spine. Ryland arched into his touch as he shuffled his knees further apart on the rug, offering himself through pure instinct.
No lion in his right mind could have been expected to resist such a beautiful invitation. Arslan snatched up the tube of lube from beside the fireplace and smeared it on his fingers. It was warm from the blaze, and Ryland murmured his appreciation as Arslan circled his hole with the tips of his fingers.
“Do you like that, pet?” Arslan whispered to him, his voice rough with his own desire, even as he fought to speak softly. It took every bit of his human side to remind the lion part of his psyche that words were important when dealing with those who hadn’t been raised to understand their own nature, raised to follow their intuition like a lion.
If he let Ryland get too lost in his newfound instincts, he’d be running the risk that the boy would be afraid when he looked back over their time together and tried to understand what had happened. That wasn’t acceptable.
Lions had to look after their human pets—they didn’t let them get scared.
Several seconds passed before Ryland seemed able to process Arslan’s question. He nodded rapidly. At the same time, he pushed back against Arslan’s fingers, impatiently trying to squirm his way onto the digits.
Arslan slid one finger inside him, quick to reward an honest answer. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t stop trying to push back around the finger.
He might not have taken a lion before, but he obviously had some degree of experience with human men. Arslan pushed aside a surge of jealousy and worked another finger in alongside the first. Ryland moaned his pleasure as Arslan rubbed the tips of the digits against his prostate.
Then, as Arslan watched, Ryland seemed to muster his self-control. He fell still, giving every decision, every movement over to his new master. Arslan stared down at him, mesmerised by the pure beauty of the boy’s submission. No lion who saw him could fail to realise exactly who Ryland belonged to right then.
Crooking his fingers, Arslan coaxed a purring little noise out of Ryland, but the boy didn’t move. He remained perfectly still as Arslan continued to work his fingers inside him. So good. Arslan stroked his free hand across Ryland’s back, soothing him down, praising him for digging up instincts humans always seemed to bury too deeply.
Ryland seemed to like that gentle kind of caress. He murmured his pleasure, but he still stayed very still, as if worried that even the tiniest movement might break some sort of spell surrounding them. Arslan thrust his fingers deeper inside him, encouraging him to relax, until his pleased little noises formed a constant stream of audible delight.
Ryland’s head dropped forward. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.” It was the only word he seemed to be able to remember. Then, he found another one. “Please, sir.”
The two words combined into a plea that couldn’t be refused. Taking his fingers away, Arslan quickly slicked his cock with extra lube. When he glanced up, Ryland was looking over his shoulder, desperation filling his gaze.
All thoughts of human words and traditions faded from Arslan’s mind. All he could do was let the lion side of him speak. The look in Ryland’s eyes, every line of his body, his scent, everything about him screamed his submission and his need.
Arslan offered the tip of his cock up to Ryland’s hole. As he pushed forward very slowly, Ryland gasped. Arslan ran a palm down Ryland’s back once more, before stroking around his torso to wrap his hand around his cock.
Gently squeezing Ryland’s dick, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the head. Ryland clenched around Arslan’s cock in response. His head dropped forward as if the combined sensations were too much for him. Arslan continued to push deeper as the pleasure Ryland took from his touch slowly relaxed him. Finally, Arslan was buried inside him to the hilt.
For a long time, the only thing that moved was Arslan’s hand underneath Ryland’s body as he continued to lightly stroke his dick, slow and simple. Arslan took Ryland to the edge and held him there as he waited for Ryland’s body to not just relax around him, but to truly welcome the feel of a hard cock stretching him open, filling him completely.
Another minute passed. Ryland began to rock within Arslan’s grasp, not so much pushing himself forward into Arslan’s hand, as much as pushing himself back onto his cock, silently begging Arslan to move.
Arslan stopped teasing then. He removed his fingers from where they’d played along Ryland’s erection. Steadying Ryland with hands on either side of his body, Arslan began to rock his hips. At first, the movement was tiny, just a test of what his new pet was able to take.
Ryland gasped. His head was bowed so low, his forehead was almost touching the carpet, but it didn’t seem to be an expression of submission as much as he appeared to be completely overwhelmed by his own pleasure and barely able to support himself.
Arslan pulled back further, until only the tip of his dick remained inside him. Ryland held his breath, as if he thought Arslan might leave him entirely. He sighed his relief when Arslan pushed back into him, bringing them as close together as was humanly possible.
Again, and again, one slow, controlled thrust, then another, until Ryland’s breaths took up the same rhythm as their movements, and Arslan was half-sure the boy would hyperventilate before he had any chance of coming.
Leaning forward, Arslan let his new pet feel his master’s chest pressed close against his back and offered him another, safer, rhythm to follow.
“That’s right, pet. Follow your master.”
He wasn’t sure if Ryland consciously understood the words, but his burgeoning instincts seemed to realise what was being offered to him. His breaths fell in time with Arslan’s.
“Perfect, pet.” Arslan pressed a kiss against Ryland’s shoulder as he felt Ryland arch his back, looking for more contact, more everything.
Slow, measured thrusts could only take them so far. Arslan wasn’t sure which of them was acting like more of an inexperienced cub right then—the man who had never been touched by a lion, or the lion himself. His responses to Ryland felt so far beyond his control, it seemed impossible to believe that anything he’d done with another human had, in any way, prepared him for this particular man.
He reached under Ryland’s body and took him in hand once more. A few more quick strokes and Ryland couldn’t hold back. He bucked underneath Arslan, and it took all of his control to ride it out as Ryland clenched around him and yelled his pleasure into the room.
Ryland’s muscles seemed to give out on him as soon as he’d come. He collapsed forward on to the rug. Arslan went with him, releasing his grip on Ryland’s dick, but still keeping their bodies joined snugly together. Ryland rested his temple against one of his forearms as he struggled to catch his breath. His face was turned to the side. For the first time since he’d looked over his shoulder, Arslan could see his expression.
Such peace, such perfection. Arslan froze, still buried deep inside Ryland’s body.
“Don’t stop, sir,” Ryland whispered. “Please, don’t stop…”
Arslan rocked his hips, very slowly.
Supporting most of his frame, he let just enough of his weight rest on Ryland to ensure his pet would be able to feel every movement—not just feel his master’s cock inside him, but feel skin moving against skin and the heat of his master’s body enveloping him.
Ryland continued to murmur his pleasure, but they were slow sleepy sounds now, as if his connection with his master now provided quiet contentment, rather than the waves of ecstasy that had shot through him as he’d come.
Arslan didn’t want to stop either, but as slow and careful as all his movements were, each one still pushed him closer to the edge. Even a lion couldn’t last forever.
He thrust deeper inside Ryland and barely held back a roar as his orgasm tore through him, and he spilled inside Ryland’s body for the first time.
Ryland gasped. His eyes fluttered open before dropping closed again as Arslan fell still.
Arslan let a little more of his weight rest against Ryland’s body as he offered a soft lick to his shoulder. He forced himself to pull away far enough to separate their bodies but couldn’t convince himself to move any further than that from his new pet’s side. They remained in contact, allowing him to feel every breath Ryland took as they lay there, sensing every little change in his mood while his body half-covered Ryland’s smaller frame.
“Hush,” Arslan whispered to him. “That’s right; rest now.”
He couldn’t ever remember feeling so protective of any human who had come to them, or of anyone at all—not even the lions in his own pride. He laid one more gentle lick on Ryland’s neck. The boy made a sleepy sated noise and curled slightly on one side, arching his back as he invited Arslan to spoon behind him more comfortably.
Arslan smiled against Ryland’s shoulder. He’d been so right to keep an eye on him. He stroked his hand over Ryland’s skin again. Even stretched out in front of the fire, he had that very slightly cold feeling humans always seemed to possess. Arslan moulded their bodies more closely together, automatically seeking to keep his pet warm and content.
A sudden bang on the other side of the room made Ryland jerk and gasp. Arslan reached over him and set his palm on the far side of the rug, instinctively protecting the boy with his own body as he turned and snarled at the disturbance.