Ilyan stood by the bed, already bare to the waist.
He moved slowly, deliberately, rolling the sleeves of his robe down his arms. The light in the chamber was low—gold against stone, evening pressing in through sheer drapes.
Kael stood behind him, silent.
Watching.
The silence wasn’t tension anymore.
It was weight.
“I want you to tie me,” Ilyan said.
Kael didn’t blink.
“I want you to tease me,” Ilyan continued. “Everywhere. Except where I need it.”
Kael stepped forward.
Took the robe from Ilyan’s shoulders with a gentleness that should’ve been impossible for hands that once snapped necks in the pit. He set it aside. Then reached for the silk cords resting on the bed.
“On your back,” Kael said.
Ilyan obeyed.
No hesitation.
His cock was already half-hard, resting against his lower stomach. His arms stretched above his head, wrists crossed. Kael tied them together with the first length of silk, then anchored them to the headboard.
Not tight.
But unmovable.
Kael stepped back to look at him.
Ilyan’s chest rose and fell with anticipation. His eyes were half-lidded. His legs already parted.
“I’ll beg,” he said.
Kael gave him a single nod.
“Good.”
He started slow.
Fingers first.
Tracing the hollow of Ilyan’s throat. The dip of his collarbone. Down his ribs. Over the scar on his left side. Kael kissed it, then dragged his mouth lower—lips against skin, breath hot, not touching his cock.
Ilyan arched slightly.
Kael bit his hip.
Not cruel.
Just enough.
Ilyan moaned.
“Not yet,” Kael whispered, mouth moving lower. “You don’t beg with your voice yet.”
He licked along the inside of Ilyan’s thigh, just brushing the base of his cock with his cheek. Ilyan twitched.
Kael didn’t take him.
He licked up his thigh again, then sucked a bruise into the skin just beneath his hipbone.
Ilyan groaned. “Please—”
Kael looked up.
“Not enough.”
He used his hands next—stroking Ilyan’s stomach, dragging his fingertips lightly over his nipples, kissing down the curve of his waist.
Then he blew softly on Ilyan’s cock—now fully hard, flushed, twitching with every denied stroke.
“Fuck,” Ilyan hissed, hands tightening against the binds. “Kael—”
Kael leaned close.
His lips ghosted just over the tip.
“You don’t want to be spared,” he whispered.
“No.”
“You want to be used.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to ruin you.”
Ilyan nodded, frantic now.
“Then beg.”
Ilyan’s voice cracked. “Please—please, Kael, I want you to take it—I want to come—I want to come from you, only you, please—”
Kael wrapped his lips around him.
Sucked him down in one motion.
Ilyan screamed—back arching, hips jerking, cock twitching hard in Kael’s mouth as he came, fast and violent, spilling down Kael’s throat.
Kael didn’t pull back.
He swallowed every drop.
And when Ilyan collapsed, still tied, still gasping, Kael climbed up beside him, resting a hand over his chest.
“You’re safe,” he whispered.
Ilyan turned his head.
Eyes glassy. Breath wrecked.
And said, “Only with you.”