“The breeches did feel tight,” joked Ix.
Eric wanted to touch it. Hesitated. Reached out anyway, running his fingers across the fur. Soft, silky. Ix didn’t look uncomfortable at all. He leaned in next to him and Eric turned to admire his eyes, reaching up to brush the sweat-damp hair out of his face. “You’re really all back?”
Ix snorted, his breath a warm puff against Eric’s cheek. “You mean including my cock?”
“No!” Eric flushed. It wasn’t what he’d meant, not until Ix had reminded him, anyway. The whole part where he was tearing his breeches off made more sense now too. That had looked like it hurt; he winced in sympathy.
Ix hooked a finger into the waistband of his underwear and glanced down; Eric did too, out of reflex. He wasn’t sure what noise escaped him but it was immediate and deeply embarrassing. He looked away. Looked back. Looked away, only to accidentally lock eyes with a very amused Ix, who was watching his whole debacle.
Eric was suddenly very aware of how close Ix was, practically leaning over him, the heat of his body radiating off him. He could see the gold ring around the outside of Ix’s eyes; he could see the bead of sweat that had formed on his temple glide down the side of his face and across the length of his neck.
“I had you all figured wrong,” said Ix, watching him the whole time Eric’s eyes darted around, frantically looking for some safe place to settle. There was none: Ix filled his whole view.
“What do you mean?” Eric’s voice came out far more strained than a short dash should have warranted.
Instead of replying, Ix gripped Eric’s chin, his long extended fingers digging into his skin. It scratched some itch inside ofhim. Eric couldn’t name it, he just knew that the way that Ix could crush him so easily and yet held back his strength made his heart race. The hint of danger and pain was always there and yet Eric trusted him not to go too far. He tilted his head up, letting the sharpened points of Ix’s fingernails graze lightly against the sensitive skin of his neck. His breath came out shuddering.
“It affects you so,” murmured Ix, his keen eyes watching Eric.
Ix leaned in close, until Eric could smell the faded woody scent of his perfume still lingering against his skin. Eric swayed towards him. He turned his hand until Eric’s neck nestled in the palm of his hand, slowly tightening his grasp. Not so much that Eric couldn’t breathe, but enough that when Eric swallowed, he felt his throat strain against Ix’s hand, felt each heartbeat pulse against the side of his neck. His breaths got shallower until he was panting and yet he held himself still.
Waiting, he realized suddenly. He was waiting. For Ix to command him. Even though Eric had always served Ix as a prince, he had never been obedient, exactly. But here, it was different. He trusted Ix to take care of him and he could finally let his mind empty, no thoughts of debts or paperwork or leases or trade agreements, nothing but the man – the demon – in front of him.
“You’re so good for me. You’ll do whatever I tell you to, won’t you?” Ix said.
“Yes, always,” murmured Eric.
“First, I’ll have you bare for me.” Ix made a gesture with his free hand and Eric gasped as he flew into the air. His clothes came undone, the cravat unraveling, the laces of his boots loosening, as if he was being undressed by pairs of invisible hands. Complex telekinesis, which had always been Ceron’s forte and not Ix’s.
“How–?” asked Eric as he dangled in mid-air.
“Part of me spent three months in the demon realms. It seems I picked up a few things,” said Ix, his eyes gleaming. Oh, he was eager to show off what else he could do now. Eric shivered in anticipation as his shirt came undone and his breeches slid off his legs. He sailed backwards completely naked until his back hit the door with a thump.
“My latest decoration for the room, isn’t it lovely?” Ix observed him, chin tilted as if Eric were a new painting on his walls to be admired. Eric squirmed under the heat of his gaze; he’d forgotten how striking Ix’s eyes were and he’d not had the full force of them focused on him yet.
“No, a different arrangement, I think.” Ix made another gesture and suddenly Eric’s wrists snapped together over his head and his legs were drawn up and apart, as if those invisible hands had hiked his legs up under the thigh, revealing him to the room.
Heat flooded Eric’s body, humiliation and desperation both. He could feel his cock stiffening already, obvious for both of them to see.
“I could leave you like this,” mused Ixthan. “Keep you ready and waiting for me for whenever I so wish to have you. No one would notice. The servants could even open the door and not see you on the other side. You would have to keep quiet, of course, that would be the hardest thing for you, wouldn’t it?”
He scraped the hard edge of his demonic nails down the soft, sensitive skin of Eric’s inner thigh, stopping just at the groin. Eric’s cock twitched, begging for attention.
“You’re a monster,” said Eric shakily.
“Not yet, I’m not.” Ix kissed him, just a gentle press of his lips against Eric’s own, the cruelest thing he could have done because all Eric wanted was more, he wanted the sharp press of Ix’s teeth and the slide of his tongue, the firm press of his mouthand he got none of that. Ixthan stepped back and Eric wanted to cry. He pulled against the magic holding him in place but it moved not even an inch.
“Be good,” Ix warned him, and Eric subsided. Gods, the anticipation was killing him, the last thing he wanted to do was goad Ix into depriving him more just to watch him lose control.
“Better.” Ix started shedding the tattered remains of his own clothes. ‘Better’ was not ‘good boy’, a phrase Eric had not even known he had craved to hear again since the last time. Not yet. He’d earn it.
This was the first time Eric felt allowed to watch Ix undress to reveal his true self; he did not miss a moment of it. His eyes feasted on the ripple of Ix’s back muscles as he got rid of the waistcoat, noticed for the first time that Ix’s chest hair was actually downy brown fur, admired the way his tail emerged from the dip in his back right above where his ass swelled. And then Ix turned around and the sound that came out of Eric’s mouth was involuntary, wanton and incoherent.
Ix’s cock. Half hard and bouncing against his thigh muscle. At least an inch longer than Eric already knew it to be with a flared head and ridges that ran in rings up the length. Eric’s ass clenched in anticipation and he knew Ix saw it, exposed as he was.
“You’re drooling,” said Ix, the remnants of worrying that Eric would find him distasteful disappearing from the shadows of his eyes.
Eric hadn’t noticed. He couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about how evident his desire was. Ix knew, surely he already knew, how much Eric desired him, he didn’t have to hide it.
