Owned 3

Bound by Temptation

Temptation stripped away their masks…

Supreme ruler of his planet, Zigog Claelyan, was kept so

frantically busy he had no time to be tempted, until an admirer

gives him a rare and expensive earthling. When the arrogant

creature seems to have no interest in him, Zigog is furious and

reluctantly intrigued.

There is nothing Dalton Boyd hates more than feeling powerless.

When he’s caged and given as a gift to an alien who clearly has

everything, he’s willing to do anything to torment him—even

ignore him. When his strategy works a little too well, Dalton

discovers he’s just as captivated as his new master.

As their masks fall away and they succumb to temptation, can

Zigog and Dalton face one another with honesty? Or will they

allow dark secrets and deep-seated fears to ruin their chance at

the mystical soul resonance?

Note: Each book in the Owned series is stand-alone and can be

read in any order.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), BDSM, Science Fiction
Length: 36,696 words

BOUND BY TEMPTATION

Owned 3

Anitra Lynn McLeod

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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BOUND BY TEMPTATION
Copyright © 2013 by Anitra Lynn McLeod
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-216-3

First E-book Publication: June 2013

Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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Lynn McLeod from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank
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BOUND BY TEMPTATION

Owned 3

ANITRA LYNN MCLEOD

Copyright © 2013

Chapter 1

Dalton Boyd had never been afraid of an envelope until he found

one clipped to his dorm room door. For a moment, he thought it was a
summons for his roommate, but as soon as he closed the distance, he
saw his name, his address, and his social security number. All the
information was neatly typed and centered on the front of the
envelope. How could something so innocuous cause so much terror?

Unwilling to give in to the fear, Dalton yanked the envelope out

of the clip then ripped it open. All it said was 8:00 p.m. Again, the
text was perfectly centered on the page. He didn’t need a ruler to
know that the trifold was also perfectly proportioned. Everything the
Eoeans did was exceptionally fastidious. Even their hideous lottery
had a certain kind of symmetry to it.

Dalton’s first instinct was to call his best friend, Hunter Wilkes.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Hunter calling him at the exact same
moment. Neither of their phones rang. They were just suddenly
connected. The wonderful weirdness of the moment was utterly
destroyed when Hunter said an envelope had been delivered to his
house.

Hunter was convinced they’d been selected because of what

they’d been doing together, but Dalton didn’t think that had anything

8

Anitra Lynn McLeod

to do with the situation at all. How could anyone know? They’d only
confessed their secret desires to one another and had gotten together
to act things out five times. Five fucking glorious times, but they were
always so careful. There simply wasn’t any way for anyone to know,
even the Eoeans. Not unless they had cameras all over Colorado
Springs. They’d hooked up in the basement of Dalton’s parents’
house while his folks were out fighting, fucking, or some sick
combination of both. No one knew that Dalton liked to dominate and
Hunter was a natural submissive. Sex wasn’t a part of what they did.
It was a scene in the strictest sense.

But Dalton had to admit the odds of two men from their group of

friends being summoned at the same time were astronomical. Just last
night he and his pals had gathered for pizza, and their topic was what
Dalton referred to as The Loser Lottery. Dalton called it that because
being the recipient of such a letter sure as hell didn’t mean the poor
bastard was a winner. “It’s not like they’re taking guys to put a crown
on their heads and toss worshipers at their feet!” Dalton had been a
little drunk. He’d been drinking a lot less once he had Hunter to help
relieve his stress, but that didn’t mean he didn’t raid his parents’
liquor cabinet whenever he got the chance.

It seemed to Dalton that the closer men got to the age when they

were eligible for The Loser Lottery, the more they talked about what
might happen to the young men selected. Once men passed the age,
they generally ceased talking about it. They probably only started
really thinking about it again when they had sons of their own.
Hunter’s grandfather had said there used to be something called
selective service—the draft. Every able-bodied man had to sign up at
the post office the day he turned eighteen. If there was a war, he
might be drafted into service. The Eoeans put an end to war, just like
they had the virus. All they asked for in exchange was a few young
men. Each state had their own way of doing the lottery, but the results
were the same. A handful of men from each district were taken every
year, and they were never seen or heard from again.

Bound by Temptation

9

“I just never really thought it would happen to me.” Dalton had

figured with his shitty home life he’d get a pass. The Eoeans would
think he’d had enough bad luck and they would spare him. But no.
His bad luck had held true. Hunter had thought he was immune, too,
since he’d been so sick as a kid. Hunter figured the Eoeans wanted
only perfectly healthy specimens, but apparently that didn’t enter into
the selection process at all.

Dalton found it funny that he’d always wondered what happened

to the men selected, but he never considered how they were selected
until he’d been summoned. Was it truly a lottery where the Eoeans
put all the eligible names into a bin and then randomly drew them
out? Or was there some other way they selected the sacrifices? And
why no women?

“I guess we’re going to find out what happens to the guys who

go,” Dalton said into the phone.

“Yeah.” Hunter’s voice was oddly calm. But then Dalton realized

he was trying not to cry.

There were a million things Dalton wanted to tell Hunter. But

even as time was so short, he found himself too afraid. He had loved
being with Hunter. When they were boys, they spent their time
camping out, catching creatures, and playing sports. Dalton was a
natural athlete where Hunter took more time to catch on. But what
made Hunter shine was that he never gave up. There was something
so open about Hunter. That was why Dalton had felt safe telling him
about his fantasies. When Hunter confessed he’d had many of the
same thoughts, there had been a moment of perfect synchronicity.
And then Dalton had suggested they learn and practice together.
Hunter agreed. And again, just like with sports, Dalton was a natural
and Hunter took a little time to catch on. But once he did…damn. He
was simply the most perfect submissive.

Dalton’s only regret was that he’d never had the courage to be

honest about himself with anyone other than Hunter. It was just easier
to let everyone think he was the stud with the big pud who was

10

Anitra Lynn McLeod

banging every chick in town. The only thing Dalton could do was
confess to Hunter why he hadn’t had the courage to come out. Dalton
feared any true relationship he had would end up like his parents’.
They seemed to love to hate one another. Dalton couldn’t stomach
something like that happening with someone he genuinely cared
about. He’d rather never try than lose a true love to something like
that. Had he known he was going to be sent away, Dalton would have
lived his life very differently. But now it was too late.

Pretty much from the day he hit puberty Dalton knew he liked

guys. He also realized that he preferred men who were smaller,
smarter, and oh so willing to surrender to his mastery. But Dalton
couldn’t take the final step and actually engage with someone like
that in all dimensions. He’d kept up a strong wall, a perfect mask. Not
to protect himself but to spare any companion he might choose.
Dalton was afraid if he gave in to his desires, he’d fall in love, and
they’d end up hating each other. Given that the closest relationship
example Dalton had was his constantly bickering parents, he didn’t
put a lot of stock in love. Or even in the idea of there being a true
loving relationship. Once, he’d considered hooking up with Hunter,
but he was simply too good of a friend to let sex mess up what they
had. But the scenes. Fuck. They were so perfectly matched that just
thinking about the power exchange turned Dalton on. Each time they
got together both of them reached climax, but it was by their own
hands without penetration of any kind. Dalton felt safe with that
restriction. But when the envelope came, he regretted never having
the courage to at least try with someone other than his best friend.
How could he call himself a fearless Dom when love scared the hell
out of him?

Dalton and Hunter commiserated over the phone, but then rather

than hang up and spend their last few hours alone, they had stayed on
the line with one another. Sometimes talking but mostly just taking
comfort in knowing that the other was there. A truly great friend was
like that, able to do so much with so little. Hunter and his family had

Bound by Temptation

11

been nothing but good to Dalton. He hoped he’d been good to them in
return.

Dalton and Hunter had tried to get off over the phone one last

time, but their unknown fate had ruined the mood. Perhaps it was for
the best that Dalton faced his destiny without a last time with his best
friend. Somehow, being tethered to him over the phone as Hunter sat
in his living room with his parents made perfect sense to Dalton. It
was like he was there. He’d always spent more time at Hunter’s house
than his own. Dalton was so attached to the Wilkes family he didn’t
even bother to call his parents to let them know he’d been chosen. He
figured they’d find out the next time they came looking for him to use
in their never-ending war with each other.

Undoubtedly, they would use his disappearance against one

another. They could probably milk a good five years out of tossing
the blame on each other. But Dalton knew neither one of them would
really care. Hardcore narcissists didn’t have deep emotional
attachments to anyone but themselves. Once they had run that
particular drama into the ground, they’d find something else. Dalton
could easily picture his parents still fighting right on up into their
eighties. There would be a little less vigor, but the burning hatred
would still be bright in their eyes.

Not that it mattered. Dalton couldn’t really say he was sad about

missing out on that crap fest. If nothing else, the Eoeans had spared
him from anymore contact with his toxic folks. He laughed to himself.
Just as Hunter accused, Dalton had a real knack for trying to see the
positive in everything. It wasn’t intentional. Not really. It was
something that his mind seemed to automatically do to try to make his
view of the world marginally better.

When eight o’clock came, a pale blue doorway appeared inside

Dalton’s dorm room. Right in the middle of mounds of laundry, the
door just popped into existence. He wondered how they managed to
make that happen. Most Earthlings were in awe of the Eoeans’
technology, and Dalton was among them. He speculated that it might

12

Anitra Lynn McLeod

be from the letter itself, or maybe it was keyed to his DNA. For some
reason, Dalton believed that even if he ran for all he was worth, that
doorway would have shown up precisely at eight no matter where he
happened to be standing. If he tried to run, it would no doubt follow
him and swallow him up.

“I say we go through the doorways at the same time.” Dalton

stood, and a moment later heard Hunter stand.

“Okay.”
“On three?” If Dalton was going to say something to his friend,

this was his very last chance. They would never see one another
again. But there was so much that he wanted to share. So very much
that he just needed to make sure Hunter understood.

“I just—I love you, Mom and Dad.”
Dalton heard the phone being jostled against Hunter’s face as his

parents hugged him. A pang of envy washed through Dalton. He
would have liked to have hugged Hunter’s parents good-bye, too.
Not Hunter, though. Dalton knew if he got his arms around him at this
point, he’d never let go.

And then he heard Hunter whisper, “I love you, Dalton.”
“I love you, too.” Dalton stepped through the door as he spoke.

He didn’t know if Hunter had heard him. He hoped so. Whatever they
were going to face would be easier somehow if they knew that they
had finally told each other the truth to something that both of them
probably suspected long ago. It wasn’t romantic love between them
but the kind of love that only the very best of friends could share.

Dalton wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he walked into the

doorway, but when he literally went from his dorm room into a cage,
he panicked. By the time he turned around, the doorway was gone and
he was stuck. He and the guys had imagined all kinds of twisted fates
for those who were chosen. Slaves, pets, even food. But nothing could
prepare him for what he saw once he got his bearings.

He found himself in a large cage suspended at least one hundred

feet up in the air. Below him was a massive room filled with people

Bound by Temptation

13

dressed in colorful outfits. They seemed human from what he could
see, given how far away he was, but there was something different
about them, too. It took a moment for Dalton to realize they weren’t
just wearing a rainbow of fabrics, but their skin tones ranged from
sharp white to perfect black and even glittering metallic. All of them
were so strange and beautiful he felt drab by comparison.

There was furniture scattered around and some kind of potted

plants that seemed to be swaying in time to the music. It wasn’t
discordant, but the tune was extremely complicated. Dalton struggled
to find a way to process the sounds but couldn’t. He thought it
sounded a lot like freeform jazz. He’d never liked that particular style
of music. He found it messy. He loved hard rock with a fuckable bass
beat. That was the best. But this stuff was so strange he couldn’t
really say if he liked it or not because for some reason his brain was
having a terrible time understanding it.

Turning his attention from the sounds, he took a deep breath and

smelled food. He noticed something oddly reminiscent of barbequed
beef and the malty essence of beer. There was a sharp tang, too, that
might be wine or cheese. Possibly both. There was also the scent of
hot bodies. It was so close to human it was strangely terrifying. His
senses seemed to be struggling to hang labels on things but simply
couldn’t. It was almost but not quite like any smell he was familiar
with.

The way the room was decorated was just as overwhelming as the

sounds and scents. There was a pattern that was complicated but also
beautifully symmetrical. Each time his gaze seemed to trace out the
structure, he blinked and then had to start all over again. It was a
visual, auditory, and olfactory assault.

Suddenly dizzy, Dalton clasped the bars in his hands to keep

himself upright. The metal was cold and perfectly smooth. When he
really looked at his cage, he realized it was strong but also decorative.
He thought of exotic birds in fancy cages, forced to sing for some
spoiled individual who didn’t understand that locking up the bird

14

Anitra Lynn McLeod

eventually killed its spirit. Very quickly the sweet song turned sour,
and the bird trilled no more.

“But what do they expect me to do?” Dalton doubted they wanted

him to sing. If they did, they were in for a huge disappointment.
Singing wasn’t something he was good at. Running yards or dunking
a ball, those things he could do. But anything to do with the arts and
he’d bomb out something spectacular.

He looked again at the people far below. Compared to them, he

was utterly blah. When he considered himself, he realized he was
wearing only a pair of jeans and shoes. Somewhere during the phone
call with Hunter he’d taken off his shirt to put on another but then
forgot. To his chagrin, he realized he didn’t even have on underwear
or socks. All he had in the world was his favorite pair of faded jeans,
his super cushy athletic shoes, his wallet, keys, and phone. He should
have followed Hunter’s example and filled his backpack with stuff,
but he figured it would only be taken away.

When he realized he was still clutching the phone, he lifted it to

his ear. For a moment, he thought Hunter might still be there, but it
was only his imagination. With a sigh of regret, he slipped the phone
into his pocket. Had Hunter heard him say that he loved him back?
God, he hoped so. For once in his life, he’d like to think he was
emotionally brave enough to put himself out there. Physically, he
lived for danger, but emotionally? He was a chicken shit. However,
rather than admit that, he would cover up his true feelings with
catcalls and macho male posturing. He’d done a bunch of that during
the call with Hunter. Instead of protecting himself, all he’d really
accomplished was keeping himself from experiencing the depth of the
human experience.

“And now it’s way too late.”
The people below might look human. For all he knew they might

actually be human. But if they put him in a cage, there was no way in
hell they were welcoming him into their world. And they certainly
weren’t going to put a crown on his head and toss worshipers at his

Bound by Temptation

15

feet. Dalton figured he would be one of two things. They obviously
put him under lock and key because they didn’t want him to escape,
which meant he was probably considered valuable. But did they think
of him as a pretty pet or as a dangerous beast?

Maybe Smitty had been right. Perhaps the Eoeans were selling off

humans as exotic food. Or was it Hunter who’d speculated that might
be their ultimate fate? Dalton honestly couldn’t remember. They’d
talked about The Loser Lottery so many times he couldn’t pin the
suppositions on one person. He did remember telling Hunter that they
might end up as pets to some überpowerful alien. Dalton had laughed
as he said they’d be groomed and fed but as soon as they got boners
and started humping the furniture they’d get fixed.

Dalton looked down at the bulge in his jeans. What if they didn’t

like his junk and cut it off? The thought alone caused him to wince.
He’d just have to convince them not to. Or he could refrain from
rubbing one off on the furniture.

“Or I could be a very good boy and do whatever they tell me to

do.”

The thought alone rankled. He wasn’t anyone’s good little boy.

He was a fucking Dom who liked to take charge. Just being confined
to a cage was pushing at his alpha buttons like crazy. He was the one
who put his partner into a tidy little box or at least restraints and then
filled his submissive head with all kinds of rough, dirty scenarios.

A shiver of lust made Dalton close his eyes and grip the bars more

firmly. So far, Hunter had been the only man he’d played rough with,
but Hunter had given him so much. Dalton felt another shiver, this
one of concern. What if he never found another playmate? What if he
was here to be beaten, eaten, used, and or abused? He’d just barely
gotten a handle on himself. It seemed so unfair to have it all be over,
especially through no fault of his own.

“Why can’t I have one goddamned stroke of good luck?” What

made things worse was that only Hunter knew him, and even then,
Dalton had kept so much of his true feelings hidden. Hunter and the

16

Anitra Lynn McLeod

other guys in their group were in awe of him for his ability to get any
chick he wanted. From grade school to high school, Dalton always
had dates to the dances and women were practically fighting in the
parking lot to ask him to the girls’ choice events. Guys all over the
school wanted to be him. What they didn’t know was that the only
reason all those women wanted him so damn bad was because he was
a great catch. That was what Dalton figured out in junior high.
Females looked at men and judged them not just on their looks. That
was the mistake most men made. They erroneously assumed
everything came down to appearance, but it didn’t. Women would
forgive a lot if the guy came across as honest, trustworthy, respectful,
and kind. Dalton was all those things. He liked women. He honestly
enjoyed going out and doing things with them. But he wasn’t
interested in fucking them. That, his disinterest, made women a little
crazy. They wanted him to want them so they could say no. Women
liked to put the brakes on a too-amorous male. But Dalton didn’t push
for sex. He went out of his way to make sure he and his date were
never alone, in the dark, or even a private corner. He never even tried
to get them to make out.

Dalton wasn’t playing a game. Not at all. The truth was he simply

wasn’t interested in that. Not with a girl, at any rate. As much as he
liked them as friends, he simply wasn’t attracted to them physically.
Boobs didn’t interest him. Balls did. Since he played a lot of sports,
he got to see a lot of balls in the locker room. Since he was so overtly
hetero in public, no one really noticed that he took his time in the
shower. The guys also didn’t seem to notice how his gaze lingered on
guys smaller than him. Not tiny, effeminate guys. But men who were
shy and relatively submissive. Dalton didn’t realize what he really
wanted until the night when he’d put everything together while
talking with Hunter.

In that moment, his whole sexual orientation clarified. He liked

smaller, submissive men because he liked being bigger and more
powerful. That nugget of truth he’d always suspected, but that wasn’t

Bound by Temptation

17

the astonishing revelation. What had happened that night was Dalton
had finally realized there wasn’t anything wrong with his desires. As
long as he chose someone who was willing, there wasn’t a damn thing
wrong with what he wanted at all. But Dalton didn’t tell Hunter the
truth. Not all of it. For some reason, he thought he would be better off
letting his best friend think he liked to fuck chicks and only wanted to
spank men.

Dalton supposed he couldn’t be honest with someone else, even

his best friend of almost fifteen years, if he couldn’t admit the truth to
himself. He didn’t want to just play rough with guys. He wanted to be
with another man. Whether it be power plays or full-on fucking or
even cuddling up and kissing, he wanted to do that with a man. That
revelation had actually scared him. Somehow, the idea of being
plucked for the Eoean lottery wasn’t nearly as terrifying as everyone
in their small community finding out the stud with the big pud was
gay.

Dalton laughed. What was really funny was that he could have

stood in the middle of the street and screamed out his confession and
no one would have believed him. There was just too much “proof”
about what a manly man he was.

Only Hunter seemed to suspect the truth. But even Hunter had

believed what he’d seen. He’d never asked. And Dalton sure as shit
wasn’t going to bring it up first. And now it was too late. Now he was
a man in a cage, dangling above some kind of fancy party. For a man
who loved control, he just couldn’t imagine anything worse than this.

A blare of music yanked his attention to the floor below. There

was an excited burble of conversation as all the brightly colored
people moved out of the middle of the room and lined the sides. From
his position, Dalton couldn’t see what they were all looking at, so he
moved over to the opposite side of his cage. He had to give some
props to whoever built and hung the thing. It didn’t wobble or even
list as he shifted his weight around it. No matter what he did, the cage
stayed still.

18

Anitra Lynn McLeod

“Well, at least I won’t fall and go screaming to my death.”
Massive double doors opened, and a group of guards entered.

Given their weapon-riddled bodies and the bulging muscles they were
packing, those dudes simply had to be coming in to protect whoever
was behind them. To Dalton’s shock, over one hundred of the steroid
freaks entered the room and formed a barrier between the center of
the room and the people lining the sides. Once they had the area
secured, there was a small troupe of musicians.

As they moved down the center of the secured space, they played

a curious kind of music that was different from the other tunes but
just as impossible for Dalton to follow. There didn’t seem to be a
repeating refrain or any kind of harmony. It annoyed him as much as
the other music had. But then, he forgot all about the tunes when he
got a good look at the guy who all the fanfare was for.

“Fuck.”
From his great distance, it was impossible for Dalton to judge how

tall the man was, especially since he was alone in the center of the
floor space. But that didn’t really matter so much since Dalton was
riveted to his golden beauty. Head to toe, the guy was literally
gleaming. A quick scan of the other people present revealed that this
guy, whoever he was, was the only person out of the hundreds present
who was gold.

As beautiful as Dalton found the color, he was far more riveted by

the man’s proud way of stalking forward. He moved with the grace of
a jungle cat and the head-held-high pride of a man who knew he was
better than everyone present. He didn’t just think he was better, he
fucking knew it. For a fact. And he wanted to shove that knowledge
in their faces and up their noses. Arrogance oozed from his pores.
Furthermore, he wore hardly anything. His body was perfectly
proportioned. In his college art appreciation class, Dalton had been
fascinated with da Vinci’s Proportions of Man. He found the idea of
those mathematical divisions of the human body interesting. This guy,
human or not, encompassed those proportions. He wasn’t scrawny or

Bound by Temptation

19

buff, but the perfect middle ground. His hair was a glorious flowing
mane feathered back from his noble features.

Dalton gripped the bars and strained forward, desperate to see

more of this curious, enigmatic, utterly self-assured, and ruthlessly
arrogant man. As he continued down the cleared center swath, Dalton
visually drank him in. He was almost entirely bare but for a pair of
what looked like underwear. On this world, the pair of tiny pants was
probably called something else, but Dalton didn’t really care.
Whatever they were, they cupped his cock with a nasty kind of
perfection, displaying him in a way that made Dalton’s mouth water.

When the guy passed the center point and Dalton got a look at his

ass, he had to reach down and rearrange his junk. Golden Guy had a
high, tight, and totally spankable butt. Each blow of Dalton’s hand
would make his buttocks quiver like very firm gelatin. Dalton took
another swipe at his crotch. Slowly, with strides that spoke volumes
without saying a word, the guy kept on walking until he got to the far
end of the room.

There, up against that wall, was an elaborate seat. From the garish

decorations, Dalton figured it had to be a throne. It made sense.
Golden Guy had to be royalty. With that attitude and that glittering
appearance, he sure as shit wasn’t the fucking janitor.

With great pomp and circumstance, the man ascended the throne

then settled himself. Dead silence made the room seem even bigger
somehow. And then, Golden Guy lifted both his arms at the same
time. Dalton almost snickered because referees used the exact same
gesture to indicate a touchdown.

“Score indeed, you hot hunk of fuckable man meat.” If Dalton did

nothing else while he was here, he was going to have that man. One
way or another, he’d find his way into that guy’s bed. After spanking
his ass to a cherry glow, or this planet’s equivalent, he was going to
sink his cock into him until those hot buttocks pressed against his
hips. “And then I’m gonna ride you hard and put you away wet.”

When a chorus of claps and screams erupted, clearly conveying

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Anitra Lynn McLeod

how much his people loved him, all Dalton heard was the masses
cheering his idea on. They wanted him to pleasure their king. Dalton
grinned and nodded. Yes, he would do that for them. Not like it was
going to be a sacrifice on his part.

After a leisurely bath in their adulation, Golden Guy lowered his

arms, and the masses settled down. There was a long stretch of silence
while he seemed to be considering everyone gathered there. What was
the occasion?

Dalton held his breath as he waited to hear his voice. What would

he sound like? Would his voice be high and fussy or low and sexy?

“Bring me my birthday gifts.”
Dalton’s jaw dropped. Golden Guy’s voice was liquid sex. Where

Dalton’s brain had struggled to make sense of the music, it had no
problem at all processing this man’s words, attitude, or vibe. Despite
his overtly privileged air, there was a curious undercurrent. He was
lust in a wicked golden package. He was desire in visual song. And
buried under the confident tone of that voice was a die-hard
submissive. Of that, there wasn’t one doubt in Dalton’s mind, body,
or soul. Golden Guy might rule the entire world he strode upon, but
he longed to be bent over a strong man’s knee and spanked into
babbling pleas of surrender.

And there was only one man on the planet who would dare to

view him for exactly what he was. Stripped out of his pomp and
circumstance, Golden Guy needed Dalton. However, the more he
watched, the more his self-assured grin faded. This was a party in
excess to celebrate Golden Guy’s birthday. Gift after gift was placed
at his feet, each more elaborate than the last. It was clear the colorful
people present were trying to outdo one another with their presents.
At first, Golden Guy seemed utterly enchanted, but it was obvious
after an hour he was getting bored. Dalton didn’t even know what half
the items presented were, but they clearly didn’t impress the man who
had everything.

When Dalton felt his cage being lowered, he suddenly realized

Bound by Temptation

21

that he was a gift. To his shock, he was truly terrified. So far, no one
had given Golden Guy anything that was alive. What if he took one
look at Dalton, laughed, and then ordered his gargantuan guards to
exterminate him?

Fear danced prickles over Dalton’s form. This was why he so

loved being a Dom. Feeling powerless was so terribly frustrating. All
his life, Dalton had lived at the whims of his defective parents.
Nothing was the same day to day. The rules changed depending on
whether Mom or Dad was looking at him and what had happened the
night before. Dalton had no solid ground but for when he was playing
rough. As a Dom, he was in charge. Indisputably, he called the shots
and made his playmate submit. But here he was, once again a terrified
little boy. Despite the insight he’d had about Golden Guy, no one was
going to listen to him, least of all the man who clearly needed to
surrender control.

“I’m a fucking pet. How the hell was I so right yet so horribly

wrong?” Dalton wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Each
inch he was lowered shot his heartbeat up. By the time he reached the
bottom, he figured his heart would just be going so fast it would
simply explode. But he wasn’t going to escape his fate so easily. His
heart just kept right on going despite his increasing terror.

But then, Dalton felt a surge of confidence. He had fooled all of

his classmates. Even his very best friend had no idea what his true
feelings were until the very end. If nothing else, Dalton was a master
of the indifferent pose. Like a true prestidigitator, he could misdirect
people with ease. He would get them to keenly observe his left hand
while his right was busy doing all the work.

And then he remembered something he’d told Hunter when

Hunter had been concerned about embracing his need to be
submissive. Dalton had assured him that surrendering his power
during a scene didn’t mean he was willing to do so in the rest of his
life. Being submissive didn’t make him a doormat.

“The only way you become a doormat is if you allow other people

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to wipe their feet on you.” Dalton took his own words to heart. He
wasn’t anyone’s doormat, but more than that, he had no need to wipe
his feet on other people to display his dominance. Unlike Golden
Guy, Dalton didn’t have to put on a glittering parade. He was
confident without the need for over-the-top arrogance. Whatever
happened, he would always be Dalton Boyd. No one could take that
away from him unless he let them.

With that in mind, Dalton stood taller. By the time his cage

touched the floor, he was leaning casually against the bars. He made a
point of looking around at the people with curiosity but not fear.
Projecting an air of interest but not intimidation, he hooked his
thumbs into the belt loops right above his button fly. This was a
stance he’d taken many times. It drew the gaze down his body to his
bulge. And he had a damn big package.

Even though he was almost dying to know what Golden Guy

thought of his stance, Dalton made a point of not looking at him. He
didn’t want him to know just how curious he was about him. It would
be so much better to have Golden Guy think he was unobtainable or
at least utterly disinterested in him.

“Your Grace, I give you the most valuable creature in all of the

known galaxy.”

“What is he?”
Again, Golden Guy’s voice was like liquid sex being poured into

Dalton’s ear until it was full, and then the excess slowly spilled down
to his cock. Ah, fuck. He was getting hard. Normally, he’d be
horrified to be so aroused when he was the center of attention, but
Dalton realized he had only one chance to make a first impression. He
wanted them to think he was a living embodiment of lust. If he had to
pick one of the seven deadly sins, that was the one he most
resembled. Dalton wanted to project such a confident air the people
around him would steer clear of him because he was nothing but
trouble. Tempting trouble, of course, but still a dangerous creature to
mess with.

Bound by Temptation

23

“He is an Earthling.”
There were so many gasps they practically made a new kind of

music.

Dalton grinned. He had no clue how the hell he could understand

their language because he knew for a fact they weren’t speaking
English. Something in his head was altering what he heard into words
he could understand. Not that it mattered. All that concerned him at
the moment was that he needed to keep projecting the macho
disinterested sex god image he’d chosen. Dalton stood a little taller,
puffed out his chest a little more, and tried to make danger ooze out
his pores.

“Is he sentient?”
Dalton almost winced. Golden Guy was asking if he was

intelligent and that fucking embarrassed the hell out of him. Did he
look stupid? Dalton had been assured by literally hundreds of
people—male and female—that he was attractive. Unfortunately, no
one ever said anything about the fact he had brains to go with his
brawn. It was as if Golden Guy had found Dalton’s greatest weakness
and kicked it. Hard. But then Dalton realized why Golden Guy had
asked. He was pissed that Dalton hadn’t once bothered to look at him.

Aha. It’s like that, is it?
Apparently, little Mr. Ego didn’t like not being the center of

attention. The more Dalton ignored him, the more furious he became.
Dalton considered the wisdom of pissing the guy off, but then realized
that he might be on the right track to getting what he wanted, which
was in the man’s bed. Golden Guy wasn’t bored anymore. He’d been
slumping down into his throne with his head cradled in his hand, but
now he was straining forward. He was pissed and curious in fairly
equal amounts.

“He is sentient, Your Grace.”
Dalton didn’t bother to look at the guy who was gifting him or the

man he was being given to. He settled his gaze on the nearest woman.
She was very short and pleasantly chubby. Her face was pretty, her

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eyes were gleaming, and when she realized Dalton was looking at her,
she smiled. Her white teeth were bright against her sage-green skin.
She, like the rest of the people present, was wearing very little, but
her skin was completely covered with shiny sage-green paint.

“Why doesn’t he speak?”
“I do not know.”
When the two men seemed to realize that Dalton was staring at

someone, he turned his attention to another guest. He didn’t want to
inadvertently get some innocent lady in trouble. The next person he
looked at was male. It didn’t take long for Dalton to realize that
despite the height, the guy was really a kid. He had that lean kind of
geekiness that most men mercifully left behind once they abandoned
their teenage years. Dalton grinned again. It was nice to know that the
trials of adolescence were universal.

The next man Dalton considered was older, possibly twice as old

as the gangly youth. He was dressed head to toe in royal purple.
Whoever he was, he looked deeply concerned about the turn of
events. Purple Man was darting his gaze from Dalton to the other two
men with a kind of hinting head twitching almost as if he was
desperately trying to tell Dalton to look at Golden Guy. From his
behavior and the excessive finery on him, Dalton had a gut feeling he
was either the coordinator of the evening’s events or he had some
high-level position on Golden Guy’s staff.

As Dalton stood there, looking at everyone except the two who

most wanted his attention, he kept them in his peripheral vision.
When the guy giving him away had apparently had enough, he
stomped over to the cage and grasped the bars.

“You there!”
Dalton deliberately took the time to smile and give a little nod to

another one of the revelers then turned his attention to the rude fuck at
the side of his cage. After looking him up and down and making a
face that he hoped conveyed his utter disregard, Dalton asked,
“What?”

Bound by Temptation

25

The man frowned and took his hands off the bars. “What is your

name?”

“What’s yours?”
Clearly not accustomed to having anyone challenge him in any

way, the guy just stood there shooting daggers at Dalton with his
gaze. He was all blue and wore a tiny pair of underwear similar to the
king’s. His body wasn’t nearly as nice as Golden Guy’s, but it wasn’t
hideous, either. What was very strange to Dalton was to see so many
people barely dressed yet covered in bright paint.

Dalton stopped looking at Blue Balls and went back to assessing

the crowd. If not for the line of guards, he would have had a much
better view of the revelers, but it wasn’t like they were going to move
out of his way. Just at the very brink of his peripheral vision he
noticed that Golden Guy was now quite literally on the edge of his
garish throne. He was tapping his fingers in a fast and furious beat.

Knowing that he had Golden Guy’s undivided attention, Dalton

finally turned his gaze toward him. Golden Guy was so startled he
moved back as if pushed. Dalton allowed a slow, wicked smile to lift
the edges of his lips. He didn’t bare his teeth. That was too often seen
as a show of aggression. What he did was project to his new owner
that he wasn’t a cowering creature who would submit to his every
demand.

After his initial shock wore off, Golden Guy moved forward

again. Now his gaze traveled over Dalton’s form. His once-tapping
fingers now traced over the armrest of the throne almost as if he were
imagining touching Dalton’s body.

Dalton deliberately turned himself more fully toward Golden Guy.

He then made a point of tightening his fingers so that his bulge was
even more displayed. Golden Guy dipped his gaze that direction. To
Dalton’s utter surprise and delight, once Golden Guy checked out his
cock, he didn’t look away. His gaze, his very lusty and uniquely
purple gaze, was so riveted it was almost as if the distance between
them compressed and time slowed down. And then, as if his luck

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simply couldn’t get any better, Golden Guy licked his lips.

Oh, yeah. You want to suck my cock so bad you can practically

taste it.

Bound by Temptation

27

Chapter 2

Zigog Claelyan had never encountered a more insufferable

creature. Just like all the members of his court, Zigog was aware of
the rumors surrounding Earthlings. Having never seen one, he studied
this one with keen interest. He was very much made in the image of
Zigog himself, only taller, wider, and more muscular. What Zigog
wasn’t prepared for was a shock of longing so intense his entire body
tried to surge toward the curious creature.

Caged like a beast, the Earthling didn’t seem to be concerned. If

anything, he enjoyed being the center of attention. Much to his
chagrin, Zigog realized it was their first point of commonality. The
entire affair this evening was in celebration of his birthday.
Customary to his station, he entered late to his own event and made a
huge show while he did. All on planet Vegoth reveled on the day of
his birth. Gifts were tossed at his feet in such droves that he quickly
became bored. But then the cage was lowered. Within was the most
visually stunning creature Zigog had ever encountered. What
surprised him was that he was riveted because the man in the cage
made no overt effort to draw attention to himself. But he didn’t need
to. The human stood out because of the fact he was plain in a room of
decadence. It was so perverse that Zigog was as riveted as the rest of
his guests.

Even his advisor, Ramir, dressed all in lush purple, couldn’t seem

to take his attention away from the Earthling.

No intense dyes altered his lightly bronzed skin. He didn’t color

his light-brown hair or wear garish clothing. In fact, he wore very
little. What he had on was almost entirely bare of buttons. The

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trousers were simple of design and clearly fashioned of a fabric that
had been worn down to a very light blue. When they were new, Zigog
imagined they had been very dark blue, but after so many washings
and so much time covering his amazing form, they had turned pale.
Soon, they would be white and only clinging to him with strings like
the edges down near his feet.

Zigog swallowed hard. He would love to have a time lapse of that

occurring. Watching those trousers slowly melt off this creature
would be something that would arouse his amoram to a point he
would have to have release. So far, in all his many turns of existence,
he’d never found the need to take a lover. Before the liaison could
even occur he was disinterested. Male or female, Vegoth or exotic
slave, Zigog couldn’t maintain his interest in anything for long.
Probably because he simply worked too much. Still, Zigog was aware
that he was lusted after by many in his court. He expected no less
from this Earthling.

But the creature turned out to be utterly disinterested in him.

Initially insulted, Zigog turned furious. He was the only one drenched
in gold. All gazes should be on him. Yet this creature ignored him.
Completely. To bolster his flagging ego, Zigog wondered if he was
intellectually inferior. The Earthling didn’t look stupid, but perhaps
he was. It was said that Earthlings were from a very technologically
inferior world that the Eoeans ruled with their rather flaccid fist.

Zigog laughed. Eoeans were renowned for a passive stance in

terms of war. They tended to retreat and go elsewhere rather than
engage in conflict. Or at least that was the rumor. Since Vegoths lived
to wage war, Zigog couldn’t understand those who didn’t. His kind
looked to the galaxy for what they could gain, not what they could
trade. Once they conquered a planet, they then turned to commerce,
but they were first in line for the best of what that world had to offer.
The other inhabitants received the leftovers.

Yet if that were true, that Earthlings were from a backward world,

then why was this one not overly impressed with him? Perhaps on

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29

Earth, gold wasn’t as rare as it was in the rest of the universe. There
were other far more precious metals, but none were as stunning as
gold. Since he was the ultimate ruler of all Vegoth, Zigog was the
only one allowed to wear the rich and distinctive color. However, this
creature, this arrogant and oddly compelling creature, wasn’t even
remotely interested in him.

Furious, Zigog wanted to bellow at him to look, but that would

reveal his keen interest. Moreover, it would show just how unsettled
this creature had made him. Controlling himself was almost
impossible, but Zigog managed when he told himself that soon
enough, he would be alone with his vast horde of gifts, including this
arrogant Earthling. Once they were somewhere private, Zigog would
punish him. He would find ways to make this creature get down on
his knees and beg to kiss his feet. Or worse. So much worse. Zigog
would put his immense intellectual powers to the task of finding the
most horrific punishment he could.

Just when Zigog was ready to surge to his feet, the Earthling

turned his attention toward him, shocking him so much Zigog moved
away, pressing his back into the throne. The Earthling’s eyes were
blue. Not vibrant or unusual blue. Not striped or swirling or anything
other than unadorned blue. That made them more riveting than all the
intensified colors in the room. The Earthling’s eyes were
unembellished, yet they were enthralling. But it wasn’t the color that
held Zigog in thrall. It was the intensity in them. What enchanted him
was the authority this alien creature exuded. He was in a cage, yet he
was the most powerful person in the entire room. Beyond that, he was
the most riveting being in the entire palace.

Belatedly, Zigog realized he’d retreated. It was a small shift

backward that no one had noticed because they were too intent on the
caged creature, but Zigog knew and so did the Earthling. Moving
forward, Zigog deliberately ran his gaze over the human. His body
was raw with sexuality. His smile was predatory. However, since he
didn’t show his teeth, Zigog couldn’t claim he was issuing some kind

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of challenge. Not in the classical sense. It was a look of knowing.

But how could this alien know anything about me?
Determined not to show his surprise, Zigog returned to a more

relaxed, forward-sitting posture. Deliberately, he considered his new
slave with a discerning eye. He was magnificent. His chest was
muscular and wide, his nipples dark against his unadorned skin. But
then he looked to the prodigious bulge caused by his constrained
cock. Zigog slid his fingers over the polished arm of his chair and
licked his lips. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until he
noticed the Earthling was watching his motions. To his horror, Zigog
realized he was stroking the gold-encrusted wood as if he was
touching the human. And he was working his tongue over his mouth
as if he could taste him. Worse, the astutely aware Earthling knew.

A rush of shock and shame made Zigog stiffen his spine. He

wanted to end the evening even though the celebration had just begun.
If he did call his party to a halt, the human would certainly know why.
And he would think that he’d won in some way. Zigog simply
couldn’t allow even the semblance of a victory over him. So he
deliberately yanked his gaze from the most enigmatic creature he’d
ever met, clapped his hands, and demanded more gifts.

Tanjin looked crushed that his present didn’t receive more praise

or really any at all, so Zigog assured him, “Your gift has been the
most unique, my dear friend. I doubt any on the planet will beat you
in the contest.”

Clearly pleased, Tanjin, dressed all in blue, lowered his face and

then backed away as the next worshiper came forward to place his
offering at Zigog’s feet. No matter how much he wanted to look at the
Earthling and see what he was doing, Zigog refused. He made a point
of staying interested in all his gifts because he didn’t want the
insufferable human to know just how fascinated he had been with
him. Or rather still was. Even though he didn’t give him direct
attention, Zigog couldn’t help but keep an awareness of him.

The Earthling stayed in his casual posture with his hands cupping

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31

around his cock. Zigog would give all of his gifts to see what an
Earthling looked like bare. And then he smiled. Just because he didn’t
tell him to strip down now didn’t mean he couldn’t do so later. Yes.
That was the way to find out all he wanted to know. He would make
the arrogant Earthling do what he said. If he wanted to be fed and
have a proper place to keep his hygiene up, he would dance in the
cage if Zigog so demanded.

Assured that he would eventually have what he wanted from his

present, Zigog was able to relax and enjoy the rest of his gifts. Rising
to his feet, he declared the time had come for food, drink, and dancing
to have sway. Since his guards were only there to add to the spectacle
he wished to make, they now broke their line and allowed the crowd
to mingle all around the room.

Almost every one of them crowded around the Earthling’s cage,

blocking his view. Even his advisor, Ramir, hurried his purple self
over to the cage. Consoling himself with the fact that he had a lifetime
to enjoy his unusual gift, Zigog turned away from all his presents and
guests to sample from the tables of food. He found all of his favorites
and thoroughly indulged himself. Music filled the air, and while there
were a few dancing groups of three, five, and seven, there were far
more courtiers grouped around the cage.

When Tanjin approached, his expression as blue as his body dye,

Zigog said, “It seems your most unusual gift is a quite a sensation.”

“Yes. I am most pleased that he has pleased you, Your Grace.”
“Oh, he has indeed. Tell me. Is it true what they say about them?”
“About Earthlings?”
“Yes.”
“I do not know.”
“You didn’t inspect him?”
“Due to the lateness of his availably I wasn’t able to. He went

from purchase to the cage.”

Zigog remembered how high up the cage had been. He did not

know what technology was used to transport the gift, but he was glad

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their aim had been good. A little off here or there and the Earthling
would have made a horrible entrance by falling to his death. For some
reason, that Tanjin had taken such a risk with someone so valuable
irritated him. Zigog understood that having the cage slowly lowered
and revealed was to make a spectacle, but the potential for it to go
horribly wrong continued to annoy him. To stop that feeling from
spoiling his mood, he pushed the worry away. It was over now. The
Earthling was safe on the ground where no further harm could come
to him. At least not until Zigog inflicted it upon him for his arrogance.

“So none has seen him bare?” Zigog left off making a comment

on how much Tanjin had paid for the Earthling. Zigog had always
wanted one because they were so rare, but even though he had more
money than all the others combined, he had not been able to get one.
How Tanjin managed was a mystery. One Zigog might be better off
not knowing.

“No, Your Grace. None had even seen him until he was lowered

from the ceiling.”

“How very clever of you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Tanjin lowered his face and took half a

step closer. He was careful not to get too close, but he had a tendency
to be overly familiar, almost as if he were making a claim.

To put him off and make his disinterest clear, Zigog stepped back

and deliberately turned his attention toward the cage. “Do Earthlings
mate in clusters?”

“I do not know. I will endeavor to find out should it please you.”

Tanjin looked at Zigog with barely concealed lust. He had made his
desire to engage in a cluster with Zigog quite clear. Zigog had never
found anyone who fully stimulated his amoram. Not until he gazed
upon the Earthling. But when he allowed himself to think of that most
curious creature, he did not see him in his bed with another. Not at all.
Zigog saw the Earthling there alone. He would make that knowing
smile at Zigog to draw him near and then… Zigog let the thought trail
off because he wasn’t quite sure what would happen if he were alone

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33

in his bed with him.

“Find out his name, if you can. It seems so sad to simply call him

the Earthling.”

“Yes, Your Grace. I will have him fitted with a slave chip as

well.”

“Do not dare to mar the perfection of his skin.” Zigog realized

that he was practically vibrating with fear. Sometimes the chipping
went awry and slaves were injured. Zigog couldn’t take that risk with
one so very compelling. “It would be a shame to damage him, do you
not agree?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Tanjin frowned delicately but quickly

fashioned his face into one of pleasure. “I will ensure no one damages
your slave.”

Tanjin moved swiftly away, his glittering blue skin not nearly as

riveting as the Earthling’s blue eyes.

It seemed to Zigog that Tanjin put undue emphasis on the station

of the Earthling. As if that fact would keep Zigog from him if he
wanted him. It wouldn’t. But one thing Zigog knew for certain,
something that he simply couldn’t lie to himself about, was that there
wasn’t any question about whether he wanted the Earthling or not. He
did. He wanted him almost desperately. But he would cut out his own
tongue before he would let anyone know. Especially the Earthling.

Waiting for Tanjin to return was difficult, but he did his best to

chat with members of his court, and he even managed to dance with a
cluster of five. There was a hopeful gleam in all their eyes that they
might be taken into his private chambers, but Zigog left them
wanting, just as he always left all his suitors wanting. Why couldn’t
he be like his father and his father before him? They had taken on so
many lovers they had poems composed to their prowess. When they
started forming their clusters, they were so epically large they had to
have specially made beds. Even then, they couldn’t have all their
chosen partners in bed with them at the same time.

Zigog had not even taken one. However, many claimed to have

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been in his bed. Since the rumors benefited him, Zigog allowed them
to flourish. No one had ever dared to directly ask if he had or had not
been with anyone in particular, so he didn’t have to lie. But he knew.
Zigog knew he was a fraud, and that was enough for shame to grow.
Perhaps if he indulged his interest in the Earthling, he would then
discover that there were others who drew his gaze. Lust might be
something that had to be sparked to make a full fire.

That thought brought him to again consider Tanjin. He was an

exceedingly attractive man who was partial to the blue spectrum of
color. Tanjin was the product of a fine cluster and had always been
there from the moment of Zigog’s birth. It was clear they were
expected to remain close, and it seemed to Zigog there was always an
expectation from Tanjin and his birthing cluster that he would one
day form a cluster with Zigog. Oddly, the more he thought about it,
the more Zigog had felt that way, too, but couldn’t remember why.
Perhaps it was just that he was used to Tanjin. He was such a familiar
part of Zigog’s world it seemed they had to become part of the same
cluster. The only problem was when Zigog looked at Tanjin, he felt
no spark of lust. His amoram didn’t flicker or clench, and his cock
remained flaccid. Was it because they had grown up together? Zigog
looked around at the other people in the room and felt no stirring for
them either. However, one little thought about the Earthling and his
whole body quivered.

Perhaps it was only that he was so different from what Zigog was

used to. That could be all his interest was, just a fascination for the
rare and unique. Somehow, though, Zigog didn’t think that was the
case. There was something else there. A spark of danger perhaps. Or
something he was unable to name. Not that it mattered. He would
explore his curious interest in private. After all, he was ruler of all
Vegoth. If he should decide he wished to explore his interest in a
slave, then he could. The only problem was, having never felt the pull
of attraction, he didn’t quite know what to do once he had the
Earthling alone. Even his thoughts of making him bow down and kiss

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35

his feet were from poems composed to his father. Zigog had never
chastised anyone in public or private. He’d been far too busy with
day-to-day tasks.

For the first time, he wondered when his father had had time to do

all that he had supposedly done. Bedding all the members of his
cluster and an army of slaves seemed to be a rather time-demanding
task. When did he have time to work? As soon as his father died and
Zigog had taken control, he’d been too consumed by his demanding
schedule to do much of anything other than work and sleep. The only
time he left those two chores behind was to celebrate the day of his
birth. As soon as tomorrow came, he’d be back on task, his day full
and his night empty. But now that he had a unique slave that he was
attracted to, perhaps his nights could become as full as his days.

After waiting for what felt far too long, Zigog could no longer

contain himself. He wanted to know the man’s name. He wanted to
see him in the light and not just the shadows of the cage. He wanted
to make his pants fall off and then… Zigog sighed. What did one do
with a naked man? Not that he had any better idea of what to do with
a nude woman, but he wasn’t concerned about that since he was
interested in a male. Why had his tutors never bothered to instruct
him in the ways of love?

Rather than allow himself to worry over what he would do when

once he had him, Zigog turned his attention toward getting him there
in the first place. He supposed he would know when the event came
to pass. Or he would just tell the Earthling to pleasure him. Or do
what he’d noticed others doing when they were interested in
someone. They talked. There were so many things Zigog would like
to know about the place where the Earthling came from. He would
also like to know if any of the rumors about Earthlings were true.
Those burning questions could fill endless nights.

Zigog smiled. He did not think he would run out of conversation

topics anytime soon. His tutors had all commented that he was an
excessively curious student. And he had been trained in the art of

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conversation. If he was clever, he would make the Earthling come to
him. Let him think seduction was his idea. Surely, a creature like that
would know what to do behind closed doors.

Pleased with his very clever scheme, Zigog was not prepared for

Tanjin to return to his side with a rather grim expression on his face.
His bright-blue dye seemed unable to hide what looked like shame.
But over what?

“Tanjin?”
“His name is Dalton Boyd.”
Zigog played the name over in his mind, trying to catch the

rhythm of the sounds. It was short yet powerful, a name that he knew
he would never forget. Since he was so busy repeating the Earthling’s
name, it took him a moment to realize Tanjin was quite distressed.

“Tanjin?”
“Please forgive me, Your Grace. Had I known Earthlings had such

vicious dispositions, I never would have gifted one to you.”

“He is a rather arrogant being.” Something that Zigog found more

interesting than repellent.

“Hopefully, he recovers so that I might sell him and get you

something more suitable.” Tanjin turned and looked back toward the
cage.

Zigog grasped Tanjin’s arm, demanding his attention. “Recovers

from what?”

“He would not tell me his name.”
“Then how did you find out?”
“One of the guards compelled him speak.”
“How did he manage to do that?”
Tanjin dropped his gaze to the floor.
Furious, Zigog shoved him out of the way and strode over to the

cage. Given how big the room was and how far away he’d managed
to put himself, it took him quite a bit of time to get near. There were
still revelers six people deep, but they all backed away when he
approached. When Zigog finally made his way to the cage, he was

Bound by Temptation

37

horrified to see that his stunning slave was in a heap and didn’t seem
to be moving. Fearful that he was dead, Zigog ordered the cage
opened. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he strode over
to the man’s side and knelt down.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized Dalton was still

alive. Placing his hand on Dalton’s lower back, he was shocked by
how warm he was, how soft. This close he was able to smell him, but
couldn’t identify the nature of the essence. Still, his complex scent
was pleasing. And then Dalton rolled over, making Zigog’s hand
smooth over his skin until his hand finally came to rest on the
creature’s belly. Again, his amoram shivered. However, unlike last
time, this time the quivering was enough to make him think of
mating. Against his will, his hand clenched, digging his fingertips
into Dalton’s flesh. He was firm, so there wasn’t anything to really
grasp on to, a fact which further stimulated him.

Dalton’s eyes opened, and he looked up. Their gazes connected.

When Dalton flashed him that slow-spreading smile, Zigog almost
smiled back, but he realized he was alone in a cage with a creature he
had no knowledge of. Dalton could be violent. He could be crazed.
He could do something horrible. To Zigog’s shock, Dalton held his
gaze as he rose up. Once he was in a sitting position, Dalton reached
out, cupped the back of Zigog’s head, and kissed him.

Zigog had never kissed anyone. To start with an arrogant alien

was shocking in and of itself, but the fact that his amoram practically
exploded caused so much alarm in his body he catapulted himself
backward. Gasping, he clung to the bars, trying desperately to regain
his composure. Dalton’s lips had been firm, demanding, yet softly
compelling. He was dangerously tempting. Zigog knew that he could
become easily addicted to him. He thought Dalton would certainly
rise to his feet and come after him. Visions of being grasped and held
by his big hands made Zigog’s cock harden, but luckily the metal
panel of his codpiece revealed nothing. Not that he should be
ashamed of his arousal, but for some reason he simply didn’t want

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anyone, most especially the Earthling, to know the effect he had on
him.

But Dalton didn’t get up. He stayed on the floor of his cage and

kept his attention on Zigog. He was smiling again. This time it
seemed even more arrogant than it had before. Zigog was about to say
something to wipe that insufferable pride off the man’s face when
Tanjin ordered the guards to subdue Dalton.

“No!” Zigog held them back.
“But, Your Grace,” Ramir, his advisor sputtered. “Clearly he is

most dangerous.”

“I will decide what happens to him.” Despite his mixed feelings of

fear and fury, Zigog took his time to consider what would be best.

There was a moment where everyone held their breath, waiting on

his word. All but the man whose fate rested in Zigog’s hand. Dalton
slowly got to his feet. Now that he was standing, Zigog realized
Dalton was much taller than him. He was bigger in all respects,
something that aroused Zigog more than it frightened him. A quiver
of anxiety sharpened his senses, but it was obvious the human had no
intention of attacking him. Zigog thought that made sense. Why
would he kiss him only to then lash out? No. The Earthling was
attracted to Zigog as much as he was to him. They were in mutual
lust.

The thought of that pleased him because he had no wish to force

the slave to do his bidding in the bedroom. Not that he would even
know what to tell him to do. As ruler of Vegoth, he could order any
slave to perform any function he wished, but the thought of doing that
turned something in his stomach. Force used for sexual gratification
left him sickened. However, this slave was clearly interested in him.
But then doubt trickled in. Perhaps the Earthling was only pretending
to be attracted to him. Knowing so little about such things made
Zigog unsure of not only what he was feeling but what he was seeing.

And then the human did something that was even more shocking

than stealing a kiss. After rising to his feet, he brushed himself off,

Bound by Temptation

39

hooked his thumbs back into his curious trousers, and asked, “So, are
we going to fuck, or what?”

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Chapter 3

Dalton could not believe those words had just come out of his

mouth. What had pushed him to ask that question was the thrill of
stealing a kiss from the most powerful man in the room. Possibly the
most powerful man on the planet. For a first kiss, it was stunning. His
Golden Guy had been eating and drinking and making merry, but it
was obvious he’d only been delaying the inevitable. Dalton had
kissed other people, but not with the intent of bedding them. In many
ways, Zigog was going to be his first.

When the guy who’d given him to the king came over, demanding

Dalton’s name, he’d asked for his first. Tanjin was the only name he
was willing to give, so Dalton refused to share his at all. Instead,
Dalton proceeded to ask the glittering blue Tanjin more and more
embarrassing questions, which prompted Tanjin to inadvertently
reveal several things. His name, the name of Golden Guy, and the fact
that he was so smitten with his ruler he would do anything to curry
the man’s favor. That was why he’d practically spent everything he
owned to buy a rare and exceedingly expensive Earthling.
Apparently, there were all kinds of rumors about what Dalton and his
kind could do. From the way those around his cage were talking, he
was considered almost magical.

He’d also learned there was no shame on planet Vegoth with a

little guy-on-guy action. From careful observation, Dalton perceived
they didn’t couple off but formed trios or more. That was interesting
but also a little disappointing. Dalton really didn’t want to share. He
wanted Zigog for himself. Maybe not for all time but at least for a
night or two. It was difficult to say when all he had for the guy right

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41

now was a strong physical attraction. As tempting as his golden glory
was, that wasn’t enough to make some kind of a lifetime commitment.

Frustrated that he couldn’t best him, Tanjin had called over one of

the burly guards, who promptly tortured Dalton’s name out of him.
When he refused to answer any other questions, and then belittled
Tanjin for having to have another guy do his dirty work for him
because he was too much of a coward to come in the cage, the guard,
on Tanjin’s orders, had zapped Dalton so hard he’d collapsed.

Coming to with the king above him was doubly pleasurable. For

one, it showed their interest in one another was fully mutual, but it
also showed that Zigog was far more fearless than Dalton had initially
suspected. The kiss had been driven by the fact that Dalton doubted
he’d ever get another prime opportunity, so he took it. And damn if it
wasn’t a kiss that practically blew his shoes off. Just when he was
getting to the good part where they would duel tongues, Zigog had
leapt away. Dalton had wanted to follow him, press him against those
bars, and finish that kiss the way it should be done, but it was clear
he’d scared the hell out of Zigog. To the king’s credit, at least he
hadn’t run out of the cage or ordered the guards in to kick the shit out
of him. Zigog simply backed away and struggled to regroup.

When Dalton had first stood up, he’d been thinking of saying

something about the fact he’d brought the ruler to his knees but then
decided he would be better off not shaming the man. He had way
more balls than anyone present. Dalton didn’t want to take that away
from him. Only in the bedroom did he want to have this man willing
and wanton on his knees. In public, he should be arrogantly proud. So
out of his mouth had come the question of if they were going to fuck.
Frankly, Dalton thought it was more a question of when. The fact that
they would was already a foregone conclusion.

“How dare you speak to His Grace in such vulgar terms!” Once it

became obvious that Dalton was absolutely no threat to the king,
Tanjin entered the cage, ready to fight. However, before Dalton could
mock him for his cowardice, Zigog dismissed him without even

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bothering to look at him.

“Leave us, Tanjin.” Zigog never took his eyes off Dalton.
Pleased, Dalton held his ground. There was a bit of skittishness in

Zigog’s eyes, but that he refused to cower away from the unknown
impressed the hell out of Dalton. Given what the people around his
cage had been whispering, the Vegoths had heard all kinds of
fantastical rumors about Earthlings. Surely, his golden king had heard
them, too.

“But, Your Grace—”
“Do not dare displease me,” Zigog warned.
“Your Grace, I agree with Tanjin, that—”
“Enough, Ramir.” Zigog cut off the guy in purple. “All of you,

go.”

Reluctantly, Tanjin, Ramir, and the others backed away from the

cage. When the guards refused to leave, Zigog dismissed them, too.
Instead of leaving, the guards encircled the cage, offering them
privacy. They were also near enough to protect Zigog if he should cry
out.

Once they were alone, Zigog approached Dalton. His gaze was

still wary, but he seemed determined to prove that he wasn’t afraid.
Dalton’s admiration went up several notches. This was no spoiled
pretty boy. Now that he was closer, it was easy to see just how ripped
the guy was. The gold made each and every muscle he had stand out.
He was shorter than Dalton’s six and a half feet, but most guys were.
Zig was just a tad under six feet tall. The absolute perfect height for
what Dalton wanted to do with him.

“Are you injured?”
“No.” Dalton was again liking this guy because his first thought

was to make sure he hadn’t been hurt. “Are you angry?”

“With your insolence?” Zigog shook his head. “I find you an

interesting departure from the members of my court.” Zigog took
another step closer, revealing that his eyes were indeed purple. “Why
did you kiss me?”

Bound by Temptation

43

“Because I wanted to.”
“I felt there was more than that.”
Dalton felt a spark dance across his nerves. There had been more

than means and opportunity to his stolen kiss. He suddenly realized
he’d kissed the king because he didn’t want to let another man he was
attracted to slip away without him ever taking the risk of revealing his
feelings. Even though he’d only glanced at the king and didn’t really
know him, the attraction between them was palpable. Dalton was a
little afraid of what he was doing, but he decided this time around he
wasn’t going to pretend to be something or someone he wasn’t.

“Once upon a time there was a man I really wanted to kiss, but I

never did because I was afraid.” Actually, there had been several, but
Dalton didn’t want to sound like some kind of flighty slut attracted to
every guy he saw.

“You were afraid?” Zigog laughed lightly. “Why do I not believe

you?”

“Because all you’ve seen is my arrogance. My pride. But I also

wanted to make sure I didn’t make the same mistakes with you that I
made with him.” Dalton took a step toward Zigog, pleased when he
held his ground. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but he
didn’t show any other signs of concern. He also didn’t look around
for his behemoth guards. “I want to make my intentions toward you
perfectly clear.”

Zigog’s gaze wandered down to Dalton’s bulge then back up to

his face. “I think you’ve made them clear.”

“That’s just lust.”
Zigog only peered at him.
“You are gorgeous.” Dalton reached out and was pleased that

Zigog didn’t move away. Carefully, he traced his finger down his
chest then withdrew his hand, looking at the tip. “So it isn’t golden
paint?”

“Paint?” Zigog shook his head. “It’s pigmented dye.”
“Is it permanent?”

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“No.” Zigog performed the same slow stroke down Dalton’s

chest. “You are unadorned. Is that by choice?”

“Yeah. I don’t need to peacock to attract attention.”
Zigog frowned, obviously confused by the metaphor.
“On Earth, there is a bird called a peacock. The male has an

enormous tail riddled with bright plumes. He flashes his tail feathers
to attract a mate.” Dalton took another quarter of a step closer, which
caused Zigog to lean his head back in order to maintain eye contact.
“I don’t need to scream for people to look at me.” Lowering his head
to Zigog’s ear, he whispered, “I find that the right man comes to me
all on his own.”

Rather than retreat or show any concern that Dalton was looming

over him, Zigog lifted his head a small fraction. “You think I am the
right man for you?”

“Think? No.” Dalton licked Zigog’s earlobe. “I know you’re the

right man for me.”

After a shaky breath, Zigog asked, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because you got on your knees for me. Something I intend to

make you do again. Only next time I’ll be standing and I won’t have
these fucking pants on.”

That comment caused Zigog to jerk back.
“Was I too blunt?” Dalton doubted that was the case because

Zigog looked shocked but intrigued.

Once he’d regained his composure, Zigog haughtily demanded,

“Why would I get on my knees for you?”

“Well, the first time you were checking to make sure your nasty

guard hadn’t killed me, but the second time you’ll do it to take my
cock in your mouth.”

A slew of emotions darted over the king’s face.
“Let me give you a few tips.” Dalton leaned close and kissed

Zigog gently while he cupped his chin. Carefully, keeping his lusty
king turned away from anyone who might be watching, Dalton slid
his finger up to Zigog’s lips. “Just a little pressure is all it takes. You

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45

don’t have to suck hard.”

Stunned, Zigog looked to be on the verge of biting Dalton’s

finger.

“Don’t you dare do what you’re thinking of doing, because if you

do, I’ll spank you. And I’ll do it in front of all your guests.”

Clearly reconsidering, Zigog then rather defiantly sucked Dalton’s

finger. He used so much force had it actually been Dalton’s penis, he
would have injured him.

“The rougher you are with me, the rougher I shall be with you.”

Dalton eased a bit more of his finger into the king’s mouth.

“Rougher?” he asked around Dalton’s invading digit.
Realizing that he had to ease him into submission, Dalton

playfully asked, “Would you want me to suck your cock like that?”

After flashing him a rather dubious look, Zigog sucked at

Dalton’s finger with much less vigor.

“Be creative, my wanton king.”
“I’m not your king.”
Dalton’s face must have clearly conveyed his surprise.
“You do not own me. Do not say ‘my king’ as if I belong to you

alone.”

Dalton smiled, loving this man’s pride, and plunged his finger into

the king’s mouth again. “We will see.”

“We will see nothing.” Zigog practically spit his finger out. “I will

have all your fingers cut off, your cock—”

Dalton molded the king’s body to his while simultaneously

kissing him. He resisted, but when Dalton growled and slid his tongue
between his lips, Zigog sighed and relaxed into him. There was no
question in his mind that he had a perfect submissive in his arms. And
there was no way in hell he was going to let him get away.

Gasping, Zigog pulled away. “You growled at me.”
“You whimpered in return.”
“I did not.” Zigog struggled, prompting Dalton to immediately let

go. Zigog stumbled a bit but righted himself. Obviously, he hadn’t

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expected Dalton to release him without a fight.

“I’m not ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“I didn’t want to suck your finger or kiss you.”
“Yes, you did.” When Zigog opened his mouth to berate him,

Dalton cut him off before he could. “I’m also going to call you on
your lies, so be very careful what you say to me.”

Slowly, and with obvious annoyance, Zigog closed his mouth.
“You really are perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“From the way you look, to the way you feel, to your very clear

need to surrender.”

“I am a Vegoth warrior. I do not surrender.”
“Not that kind of surrender, Zig.”
“My name is Zigog Claelyan. I am ruler of all Vegoth.”
“Aw, come on, Zig. Let me call you a nickname. We’re going to

be lovers soon. It’ll be cute.”

“You will do as I say.” Zig wasn’t yelling, but he injected fury

into his tone.

“And what do you want me to do?”
It was clear his lusty king hadn’t thought that far ahead. Dalton

looked around and realized the guards had encircled the cage with
their backs to him and Zig. Since there were over a hundred of them,
they managed this from about thirty feet away. He and the king had
total privacy. However, he was pretty sure one scream from Zig
would change that in a hurry. But the only kind of screaming he
intended to get out of his golden king was one of ecstasy.

“I’m waiting.” Dalton moved back, putting about five feet of

space between their bodies. He didn’t want to give Zig the luxury of
simply touching him or distracting him with a kiss. Not this time. He
had to give him some orders, and he was going to have to do so with
words.

“You will suck my cock.” Zig placed his balled-up fists on his

hips as he widened his stance.

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47

“My mouth is literally watering at the thought.” Dalton stepped

forward and dutifully got down on his knees, earning himself a
stunned look. “Now, tell me how.”

Zig looked so baffled that Dalton knew he’d never sucked a cock

or had anyone near his. Unsure why, exactly, Dalton found the
information pleasing. Maybe it was because they were both virgins or
the fact that no one had touched his beautiful king. He realized Zig
was right about that. Dalton did think of Zig as his king. The others
could worship him, but only Dalton would be allowed to know him
intimately.

“Tell me that you’re not interested in Tanjin.”
“I’m not.” Zig startled at his confession. “How did you do that?”
“You mean get you to answer when I’m the one on my knees? I’m

telling you, you want to surrender to me.”

“You are the one on your knees now.”
“Willingly.” Dalton grinned. “The only problem is you don’t

seem to know what to do with me.”

“Tell me why you asked about Tanjin.”
“Because he’s not what you need.”
“And what is it that I need?”
“You need a man, not a quivering boy. What you need is me.”
“I should have you beaten for your insolence.”
“And how would that go down?”
“I do not understand you.”
“How would you beat me?” Dalton realized certain colloquialisms

translated into separate words that made sense, but when they were
strung together, they were incomprehensible in whatever language he
was now speaking. He settled back on his heels since it was doubtful
he was actually going to be sucking cock anytime soon. Apparently,
his golden king wanted to talk first. Not that he minded, but Dalton
would much rather mix conversation with sex.

“I would have you taken to the block.”
“What’s that?”

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“A punishment device.”
“Yeah, I got that. Describe it to me.”
As Zig described the device in detail, it became abundantly clear

that he had no desire to see Dalton in the thing at all. Zigog Claelyan,
ruler of all Vegoth, golden king of the golden era, wanted to be
strapped down and punished. It was just as clear he wanted Dalton to
do the dirty work. But there was a trust issue. That they had to work
on. There couldn’t be an honest power exchange without consent.
Dalton couldn’t remember where he’d learned the litany from, but he
believed in it and repeated it like a mantra. BDSM sex should always
be safe, sane, and consensual. He had the first two down as he’d
educated himself about what was safe and he had no interest in
anything beyond light play, but the consensual part. That was
extremely important to him. Stealing a kiss was one thing, but tying
up the king and spanking his very fine ass was a totally different
matter.

“Are you listening to me, you arrogant slave?”
“I’m riveted.”
The more Zig went on about the punishment device, the more his

arousal became evident. What had looked like very tiny underwear
from a distance was actually more like a stretchy swimsuit with a
metal plate over his cock. Even though he was fully covered, the
gleaming adornment was levitating its way out from the king’s hips.
He was hard and he was horny. Now all Dalton had to do was get his
permission.

Slowly, Dalton rose to his feet.
“I did not tell you to rise.” Zig’s breathing became choppy. He

was so turned on and so afraid that all Dalton wanted to do at that
moment was put him at ease.

“You’re really amazing.”
Zig waited for Dalton to add something to that comment, so he

didn’t. He didn’t want to be too predictable. Rather than use words,
he thought he could say a hell of a lot more with action.

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49

Tenderly, Dalton touched Zig’s gleaming hair. It was stiff from

some kind of product that held it back from his face. Without the dye
and the hair manipulation, Dalton thought he’d look sweet and
innocent, almost fragile. It became clear to Dalton that Zig wore his
affect just as he did the dye on his skin and the color in his hair.
Everything from the glitter to the entitled attitude was a mask. Letting
anyone in would be so terribly risky. The question became how would
Dalton get Zig to relax his guard and lower his protective shield?

“It must be exhausting to always be in control.” The observation

came from some intuitive part of Dalton. He knew he was right when
Zig initially flinched back but then inadvertently leaned toward
Dalton, almost as if he wanted to fall into his arms and cry because
someone finally understood. From what little Dalton managed to
glean when he’d been surrounded with partygoers, the planet of
Vegoth had been in a state of blissful harmony since Zigog’s rein.
Still, Dalton had no idea how old he was or how he’d become the
ultimate ruler of an entire planet.

“Surrendering in the bedroom doesn’t make you weak,” Dalton

assured him.

“No?” Zig’s voice was tremulous.
“No.” Dalton closed the distance between them. “It takes a strong

man to admit to his secret need.”

“What’s yours?”
Ah, the catch. Dalton couldn’t ask for trust if he wasn’t willing to

give it in exchange. “I like to be in control because I so rarely am.”

“Be more specific.”
“I like to bind my partner, spank his ass until it’s glowing, and

whisper incredibly dirty things into his virgin ears.”

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Chapter 4

Zigog swallowed so hard he almost hurt himself. Just the idea of

this man strapping him to the block and spanking him sent his
amoram into a quivering state of readiness. How could one from
another place that was so alien to his own be exactly what Zigog had
always wanted? Even more bizarre was that he hadn’t known what he
was looking for until Dalton came along. But what he offered could
be so very dangerous if it were discovered. None would want to
follow a ruler who would surrender to a slave.

Yet Zigog believed that he could trust Dalton. It was crazy to trust

one so different, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Moreover, he
wanted to believe that they could share their mutual desires in such a
way that nether one of them was hurt. Or embarrassed. Or exposed.
What Dalton wanted was to explore their needs in private.

Private.
Was that the key to all clusters? What they did in the area of their

rooms had no bearing on what they did in public? If only it could be
that easy. If only he had asked his tutors to educate him about sexual
matters. Zigog felt angry at his teachers, but then again he had never
asked. They would not assume he was interested until he started
making inquiries. He couldn’t run to them now and fill his head with
facts and information. Or could he? He was ruler of all Vegoth. He
did not have to do anything more than he’d already done. He could
end this now and return to the issue later. But Zigog didn’t want to.
He wanted to be with Dalton now. As he stood there, looking up at
this man who had somehow captured his attention so fully, Zigog
realized the Earthling could be putting some kind of a spell on him.

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51

“Zig?”
The nickname actually pleased him immensely. No one had ever

dared to shorten his name. It implied familiarity. Oddly, Zigog
realized he’d been more intimate with Dalton in the short span of an
evening than he had been with anyone else, even those he’d known
his entire life. Zigog did not believe in destiny or fate, but now he
began to wonder if such curious things were true.

“How can I trust you?” Zigog asked.
“You can’t. Just like I can’t trust you. But we can build trust.”
“How?” Zigog thought such a thing took a lifetime.
“You trusted me enough to come into my cage. You trusted me

enough to want privacy with me.”

“My guards are right there.” Zigog was glad they were near

enough to protect him but not so near they would know what was
happening.

“I know. But it still shows trust. And bravery.”
“You flatter me.” Zigog still didn’t know if he was being

persuaded so that he would be ultimately exposed to ridicule or if they
could actually share something so shockingly intense without anyone
finding out. What he’d already done wouldn’t really stun anyone, but
what he was thinking of doing could cost him dearly if he were
exposed. In order to test this Earthling, he decided to make it clear he
had just as much to hold over his head as he had over Zigog’s. “You
got on your knees. That not a sign of control.”

“No. But it’s a way for me to show you that I trust you.”
Clearly, establishing trust was important to Dalton. Zigog wanted

that, too. “You didn’t attack me when I came in here.”

“Not attacking you in this cage only shows that I’m civilized. A

willingness to make myself vulnerable says something else entirely.”

Oh, this Earthling was persuasive. He could be a poet or even a

herald. Citizens near and far would willingly gather to hear him
speak. Zigog didn’t think it would matter what topic he chose so long
as he kept talking. For a moment, Zigog allowed himself a quick

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image of the two of them bound in a cluster. He would be proud to
have Dalton on his arm. But they had to have another. Two males
didn’t make a true cluster.

“What were you on your world?” Zigog couldn’t tell by the way

he was dressed. The tales about Earthlings didn’t mention anything
about how they lived, only that they were capable of bestowing
magical powers. In Zigog’s culture, magic was highly prized because
it was so rare. In the days of yore, all the Vegoths were said to have
had some kind of power. But then the age of tools came, and the old
magic fell away. Every once in a while one was born with a skill, but
it was often stunted and ineffectual. Zigog had been able to move
small objects when he was younger, but once he matured, what little
ability he’d had was gone.

“You mean what did I do?” Dalton asked. “I was a student.”
“You do not look much like a scholar.” Frankly, he didn’t look

quite like anyone or anything Zigog had ever seen. Although, he
wasn’t one to be around many people from different walks of life. His
world was guards, slaves, and the members of his court. Only from
the windows did he ever see common folk, but he worked so much he
rarely took time to simply look out the window. Besides, he was up so
high that when he did have occasion to look, Zigog had no clear idea
of how they dressed or what their day-to-day lives were like.

“You caught me when I was relaxing.” Dalton explained about the

Eoeans’ lottery. “I found that envelope, and rather than run around in
a panic, I decided to do the opposite.”

“You had no warning?” Zigog thought that was unnecessarily

cruel.

“I had a few hours.”
“How did you spend that time?”
“Talking to my best friend, Hunter. He got selected at the same

time I did.”

It was clear from the expression on his face that Dalton loved his

friend Hunter very much. Touched, Zigog was still relieved when he

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53

didn’t sense the kind of love that clustered partners had for one
another. What Dalton had for Hunter was love but not the highly
romantic and passionate sort. Or at least Zigog didn’t think so. Now
he understood why Dalton had wanted to know about Tanjin.

“Was Hunter…what was he to you?” The last thing Zigog wanted

to do was become enmeshed with a man who would always love
another.

“We weren’t lovers, if that’s what you’re asking.” Dalton

answered promptly and seemed to be making no effort to underplay
the relationship, pleasing Zigog greatly. “We played at master and
slave, but there wasn’t sex involved. I didn’t fuck—penetrate him.
Shit. I need to think before I speak.” Dalton took a deep breath and
cupped Zigog’s chin. His touch was amazingly tender for such a large
man. “I’ve never even kissed a man until tonight.”

“Never?”
“Not the way I kissed you.”
Zigog leaned up and kissed Dalton. As soon as their lips touched,

Zigog felt that same sigh of surrender welling up in his chest. He tried
to hold on to it this time, but then decided he could release the soft
whimper. Why try to make his body lie when the man pressed against
him already knew the truth?

With great care, Dalton deepened the kiss. His tongue slid into

Zigog’s mouth with a possessive determination that thrilled him more
than it terrified him. But there was still fear between them. Zigog
couldn’t imagine what others would think of him for his sudden and
probably unique needs. Or were they? He honestly didn’t know what
was common in bed and what wasn’t. Before he could pull away,
Dalton did.

“Go on. Ask.”
“How did you know I was wondering about something?” Again,

Zigog feared the Earthling possessed some type of mind-reading
magic.

“I felt you frown as we were kissing. When you’re thinking about

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something, your brows lower, you push out your chin, and your lips
curl down.”

“You are very attentive.”
“Of you, yeah. I doubt I’d notice all of that with anyone else

here.”

“Is it like this on your world?”
“Like what?” Dalton asked, stealing another few kisses in

between their conversation.

“Does all your kind play this kind of master-and-slave bedroom

game?”

“Most have an exchange of power. They might not recognize it as

such, but that’s what a lot of sex is about. But if you mean do
Earthlings as a general rule like to tie each other up and spank one
another, no. It’s not common.” Dalton traced his finger along Zigog’s
bottom lip, making him hunger to kiss him again. “Does it matter?”

“I don’t want people to know.”
“I would never tell anyone what we do in private. I’m not into that

kind of crap.” Dalton considered him for a moment. “Please tell me
we don’t have sex in public or something like that.”

“No.” Zigog laughed. He pictured some of the clusters he knew

engaging one another in full view of the court. “Most definitely not.”

“And sex between two males isn’t forbidden?”
“Why would it be?” Zigog could not imagine such a restriction.

“Sexual congress is permissible between any and all adults. Even
once a cluster is formed, those within can still invite others to join
them.”

“As part of the mated group?”
“Not always. Sometime they just want to play. It’s only

permanent if all the parties agree.”

“What if someone wants out of the cluster?”
“Why would they want out?” Zigog couldn’t imagine such an

occurrence.

“What if they were unhappy?”

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55

“That is why they can bring someone else in. Just because one is

in a cluster doesn’t mean they are obligated to assuage all the parties
in the group. Some form for the benefit of alliances, or lust, or even to
save face. There are many reasons to make a cluster.”

“Are there any clusters that are only two?” Dalton continued to

stroke his finger over Zigog’s bottom lip in between his answers. This
subtle caress caused Zigog’s amoram to quiver with each pass, but he
wasn’t certain why. “Zig?”

“I don’t know of any two-party clusters.”
“Is such a situation expressly forbidden?”
“I do not know.” Zigog struggled to catch his breath. “Why does it

matter?”

Dalton smiled and leaned close so that their mouths were almost

but not quite touching. It was maddening. And then he whispered, “It
matters because I don’t like to share.”

Zigog couldn’t believe that he had just met this creature and

already Dalton wanted to own him. It was flattering but frightening.
The idea of being possessed by a slave, especially one that so little
was known about, was dangerous. As much as he wanted to take
Dalton to his rooms and explore whatever it was that was happening
between them, he had a function going on, a point that he was
reminded of when he heard a large cheer. He realized that their call of
pleasure was probably due to more entertainment coming into the
great room.

“I must see to my guests.”
Dalton looked around as if he had entirely forgotten where they

were. That pleased Zigog greatly because he had almost forgotten as
well. Had he more confidence in his ability to call a halt to a liaison
with Dalton, he might very well have continued their private
encounter in the cage. But he didn’t trust himself. He’d been so
distracted had the guests not called out, he would have stayed here
until morning came. Or perhaps he would have stayed until he found
out if he would do as Dalton suggested and fall to his knees to take

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Dalton’s cock into his mouth.

“It does seem rude not to attend your own party.” Dalton stepped

back and then made a point of readjusting his bulge.

Zigog was very curious about what he looked like bare, but this

was not the time to find out. Later on he would do as he pleased, but
for now he needed to play host and make merry with the members of
his court. When Dalton settled against the bars, Zigog realized he
thought he had to stay within his cage.

“I would be quite honored to have you on my arm.”
The look that came over Dalton’s face revealed his surprise. “You

would?”

“I would.”
“I would be very happy to leave this cage.”
“I trust that you will be as civilized with my guests as you have

been with me.” Zigog offered out his arm.

“I will.” Dalton grinned at him as he slipped his arm through

Zigog’s. “But I’m not going to kiss any of them.”

“That is satisfactory. I, like you, do not wish to share.”
There was a moment where he looked into Dalton’s eyes and

found on that particular issue they were in complete agreement. Zigog
felt a curious kind of pleasure. It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before.
But he simply had no time to contemplate the emotion at the moment.

Once Zigog broke through the wall of guards, those gathered were

riveted to Dalton. It was clear that he was a curiosity they all wanted
to explore, but none wanted to be so rude as to rush over and
monopolize his attention. Rather, like they always did, they managed
to keep their curiosity simmering lightly. No one gawked too terribly
much, but as Zigog took Dalton to the food table and then showed
him how to dance, members of the court managed to slip in a question
here and there without overwhelming him. There was no question that
Dalton was the hit of the party. There was a sting of jealousy that
Zigog himself wasn’t the center of attention, but what aggravated that
feeling was the way his guests looked at Dalton. It was clear Zigog

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57

wasn’t the only one instantly attracted to him. It seemed every gaze
cast his way was filled with lust and longing. Zigog realized he could
simply be seeing what he expected to see, but he didn’t think so.
Rather than cling to him with a pathetic sense of ownership, Zigog
released him so that he could witness his interactions from afar.

For the first time, Zigog realized just how powerful lust could be.

He had barely known Dalton yet felt a longing to mark him as his
property. Not as a slave, but as a part of his cluster. And much like
Dalton, Zigog did not want to share. When one of his courtiers
touched Dalton’s arm, even in a gesture of friendship, Zigog felt a
need to assert his possession. He refrained, but only just barely.

“It seems your new slave has stolen your evening,” Tanjin

commented to Zigog while keeping his attention firmly on Dalton.
Oddly, Tanjin’s expression was a mixture of feelings. He seemed
proud he had given his king such a powerful gift, but bothered, too,
that Zigog was so enamored with the gift. And the jealousy that Zigog
felt in sharp little bursts was etched deeply into Tanjin’s features. It
was obvious Tanjin thought the evening would go a completely
different way.

Unsure what to do, since he had never done anything to encourage

Tanjin’s feelings, Zigog struggled for something to say. “I do not
think I thanked you for him.”

“Do not thank me for what has clearly cost me you.” Tanjin

seemed done with his simpering need for approval. Rather than wait
for Zigog’s reply, he moved swiftly across the room and out the main
door. Zigog realized that Tanjin’s gift was going to cause him trouble
no matter what he did.

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Chapter 5

As Tanjin stalked past, shooting Dalton a dirty look, he realized

no good could come of that man. He was furious that Dalton had
captured Zigog’s attention. Not only the king’s, but all the court’s.
Dalton imagined Tanjin had bought Dalton hoping for the entire court
to be so smitten with the curious Earthling he would have time to ply
his king with sweet words and gentle seduction. What Tanjin simply
didn’t realize was those things would never have worked on a man
like Zig.

The king was a proud man. That was clear by the way he carried

himself, but he was weary of his rule by the close of the day. When he
laid his blond head on his pillow, he no doubt dreamed of a place
where he was allowed to simply laze his days away. Constant control
made the man who had it crave surrender. When Tanjin had given
Zigog Dalton, he’d given him the spark to start his fire. And now it
was too late to take his gift back. Nothing was going to douse the
flames of temptation. Dalton didn’t know a lot about the Vegoth
culture, but he was pretty sure one didn’t give their king an elaborate
gift then take it back when it blew up in their face.

As sorry as Dalton felt for Tanjin, because he didn’t seem like a

jerk, only a man fixated on someone who wasn’t interested in return,
Dalton was also wary. Jealousy was a particularly ugly emotion that
could drive people to commit all kinds of vile acts. Since Tanjin loved
his king, it was pretty clear he was going to turn his wrath onto
Dalton.

“Yay.”
“I did not catch that.”

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59

Dalton shook his head at the man he was supposed to be talking

to. He was painted in a pattern that reminded Dalton of paisley. This
was different, though, more intricate. He couldn’t recall the right
word for the design, but it was something mathematical. Hunter had
done a paper on them at one point. Fracts? Something like that. They
expressed an amazing symmetry. Ever since Hunter had gushed about
all the symmetry in nature, Dalton had been seeing it everywhere.

Even the situation he was in now had a certain kind of balance to

it. From the limited conversations he’d had with the members of the
court, everyone seemed to be in clusters that were composed of prime
numbers. There were groups of three, five, seven, and one of eleven.
He wondered if there were groups of other numbers, but he hadn’t
seen any. When the music started up again, he realized if he counted
out the beats into groups of prime numbers, he was able to finally
grasp the rhythm. The dancing people also seemed to unfold in a
pattern of—

“Fractals.”
“Fractals?” the paisley man asked.
“Your music and the pattern painted on you are fractals.” There

was a moment where he didn’t think the word was translated, but
Dalton realized the man he was talking to simply didn’t understand
what he was talking about. He had to ask Zig for confirmation, but
Dalton was certain he was right. Hunter would have gone crazy for a
culture based around math. But perhaps like many other things in
nature, it wasn’t intentional but just how things panned out. That in
turn made him wonder where Hunter was. Did he end up somewhere
interesting? God, Dalton hoped so. He could sleep better at night if he
knew his best friend was safe. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he
would never know.

When he turned around, looking for Zig, Dalton realized seeing

over the heads of the court was easy since he was the tallest person in
the room but for the guards. Spotting the king was simple, too, since
he was the only one in gold. What wasn’t so easy was to see him over

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by the food table with another man.

An instant surge of alpha male dominance stiffened his spine. He

was shocked that he reacted so possessively when he didn’t have any
claim on Zig. Just like Tanjin, Dalton was wanting. And wanting
didn’t mean getting. Zig did seem to be reciprocating his interest in
the cage earlier, but given the way their culture was, Dalton found it
unlikely he would be allowed to have the king all to himself.

“And just why the hell am I fixated on that when I don’t know

him?”

When the man talking to Zig stepped aside, Dalton had an

unobstructed view of his golden king. Damn the man was fine.
Stripped out of all that glittery stuff and spread out on a bed with his
pretty little ass in the air… Dalton sighed then frowned. For some
reason, he didn’t see himself bending Zig over his knee anymore. He
saw him making a slow, lazy kind of love to him. Love? What the
fuck had gotten into him? Just moments ago he’d recognized that
Tanjin’s smarmy way of seduction would never work on Zig, yet here
he was thinking of using softness rather than brute force.

Dalton’s gaze connected to Zig’s, and he swore he felt heat. Not

metaphorically but a real sense of warmth that spread over his chest.
When Zig flashed a quick smile, the heat spread downward. Dalton
couldn’t remember anyone ever making him feel the way Zig did. He
felt…giddy. Dalton laughed at himself. He’d never felt giddy before,
but maybe that was the norm when people found someone. Or found
the one. He’d read all about some kind of chemical thing that
happened in the brain to account for the feelings, but that didn’t
matter. Not really. All that mattered was that Dalton was feeling
pretty damn good about things.

Except for the business with Tanjin. That was undoubtedly going

to come back and bite him and Zig on the ass. Of that, there wasn’t a
single doubt in Dalton’s head. The only question was what would
Tanjin do, exactly? The thought was pushed to the back burner of his
mind as he found himself engaged in another conversation with a new

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61

set of curious Vegoths.

Eventually, the evening drew to a close, guests wandered away,

and the king was ready to retire for the evening. He spoke not a word.
Zig just walked up, linked his arm with Dalton’s, and walked out the
main entrance with a hundred guards in tow.

Dalton laughed lightly. “I guess you can’t really sneak anywhere

with them following you around.”

“No, but I am ruler of all Vegoth and have no need to sneak

anywhere.”

“Was Tanjin very upset?”
“I do not wish to speak of him.”
Dalton realized Zig didn’t like to discuss intimate details within

hearing distance of the guards. Or perhaps he was aware of the
potential problem with Tanjin and would deal with it on his own.
Dalton realized that though he might be able to play power games in
private with Zig, he was going to have to get used to the fact that Zig
ran the show everywhere else. Could he handle that? Dalton wasn’t
actually sure. He was used to directing his own life.

“What are you thinking about?” Zig asked. “You look almost

angry.”

“I am thinking about mathematical concepts. If I look angry it’s

only because I don’t understand them as well as I’d like.” As much as
Dalton wanted to trust Zig, he didn’t want to tell him every little thing
on his mind. Not here, at any rate. Privacy seemed like the place to
tell him his concerns about Tanjin.

“Why are you thinking of math?”
“Your music and the clusters are based on prime numbers and

fractals.”

Zig was clearly surprised. “You noticed this after one evening?”
“Well, I was trying to understand your culture. It’s very different

from mine.” Dalton hesitated. “Why does that I noticed surprise
you?”

“I didn’t think you were that intelligent.”

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Dalton frowned but kept on walking. Did Zig think he was stupid?

Hadn’t they cleared that up already after he’d openly wondered if he
was sentient? Rather than ask, and reveal that people assuming he
lacked in the intelligence department bothered him, Dalton kept right
on walking.

“You are now angry. I can feel this is so.” Zig kept his voice low

so that the guards would not be able to hear them.

“I’m upset that you are surprised by my intelligence.”
“I did not mean to injure your pride.” Zig squeezed his arm with

firm reassurance. “I was just expressing my surprise that you realized
such a detail. There are ambassadors who have spent a great deal of
time here yet they have no concept of how fractals and primes
dominate our culture.”

Dalton was still pissed and not quite certain why.
“I meant no disrespect.” Zig stopped walking and shooed the

guards away. “Please do not be angry with me for a comment made
without thinking. In retrospect, I realize the way I expressed my
surprise was inappropriate.”

Whatever grudge he was building up suddenly melted. “I think

I’m just tired and way overly sensitive.”

“Why are you sensitive about your intelligence when it’s clear

you are quite knowledgeable?”

“I am—was a jock.” The word didn’t translate at all. “I played a

lot of sports, and there is this kind of inverse relationship between
being a jock and being intelligent.”

“The more sports you played, the dumber people thought you

were.”

“Yeah. It’s made me touchy.”
“I will do my best not to aggravate your insecurity.”
Dalton wanted to kiss his golden king but refrained. “At home, I’d

be in bed by now.”

“Then that is where we should go.” Zig smiled up at him and

whatever resentment was left in Dalton’s mind fled.

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“Yes. We should hurry, too.”
Zig turned and picked up the pace. Dalton fell in beside him and

realized they were walking in sync. He seemed to have such a strong
affinity for Zig that he began to suspect there might be something else
to the Eoeans’ lottery. What if he’d been chosen because he would
have some kind of natural chemical attraction to his owner? He
almost immediately nixed that idea. He’d been bought by another, so
if that were the case—the Eoeans were picking men who would match
their owners’ chemical signatures—he should have been warm for
Tanjin’s form. But he wasn’t. He had no interest in him at all. Even
his interest in some of the guys he’d seen back on Earth wasn’t quite
like his desire for Zig.

When Dalton sighed, Zig asked why, but he didn’t want to bog

him down with what was essentially a curiosity. It didn’t matter why
he’d been selected by the Eoeans. He was here, he wasn’t going back,
and now he had to get along in this strange new place. Another
thought led him to actually feel that all would be right with Hunter,
too. If Earthlings were extremely rare and exceedingly expensive,
Hunter had to have gone to someone who wanted him very much. All
their suppositions that they tossed around while eating pizza were
wrong. Apparently, they were taken away and sold so the Eoeans
could fund their elaborate lifestyle. Dalton knew Earth couldn’t be the
only planet they had colonized. By selling the natives, and they were
probably responsible for the hype surrounding their species, too, the
Eoeans earned themselves a pretty penny.

Dalton knew when they got to Zig’s bedroom because his body

displayed his stress. His hand on Dalton’s arm was extremely tight,
and his breathing was rapid, shallow, and hitching ever so slightly.

“Relax, my golden king.” Dalton lifted his hand and kissed the

back. “I’m not going to pounce on you as soon as we are alone.”

“No?” Zig sounded surprised and perhaps a little bit disappointed.
“No.” Dalton waited until they were inside his room. “I think

tonight we should get to know one another better.”

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Rather reluctantly, Zig agreed. Dalton wouldn’t be opposed to

sexing each other up, but he wanted the idea of it to be entirely in
Zig’s hands. His strategy worked because Zig visibly relaxed.

“Wow. Your room is amazing.” It had to be the most massive and

elaborately decorated place he’d ever had the privilege to be in.
Fractals were represented everywhere he looked. The ceiling was
tiled in every conceivable color and the repeating pattern exploded
outward from the spot right above Zig’s bed. Rather than start the
design in the center of the room, the designer had made the bed,
which was so big it was almost laughable, the main attraction. The
design of the room was beautiful and almost painfully complex. As
Dalton struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, he realized the
décor was like the music he’d heard earlier. It was so complicated that
he couldn’t quite understand it. That was when he realized that
though Zig might look human in many respects, he really wasn’t. This
world, this land, this king—everything around Dalton was inherently
different from what he was familiar with. For a mind-bending
moment he was terrified. Truly, utterly stunned that he simply
couldn’t comprehend all that he was seeing. The disorientation he felt
was echoed in his mind about his station as a slave. Would he ever
really be anything more than that? Would Zig use him to get what he
needed and then cast him aside for another who could better mesh
into his society?

Just when everything seemed so overwhelming he almost closed

his eyes and dropped to his knees, Dalton felt Zig press against his
back. Smaller, shorter, but insanely powerful, Zigog Claelyan, prime
ruler of the Vegoths, nuzzled the nape of his neck then sighed. His
breath was warm and familiar.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, either. I’m not going to

expect you to be my slave.”

Dalton chuckled softly but didn’t turn to face him. He couldn’t.

All he could do was close his eyes and draw a series of deep, calming
breaths. He’d had a moment of utter terror, and Zig had pulled him

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65

back from the brink of screaming madness. He’d thought that he
would master the submissive king in private and that would make
submitting to him in public easier, but Dalton realized there wasn’t
any need for them to master the other in public or private. There were
a multitude of ways to have a power exchange. He recognized that
just as he had the mathematical implications of the culture. But it
wasn’t ever going to be a one for one. If he could just let go of those
perceived notions of master and slave, he might find that he was in
the best place for his spirit to grow.

Turning, Dalton found himself with his forehead pressed to Zig’s.

“You amaze me.”

“Please do not say that you expected me to be more intelligent.”
It was a dig but also a stab at humor. Dalton was reminded of the

way he’d been with Hunter. They often called one another derogatory
names in jest because they were too afraid to get too close to true
emotions. “I do not expect you to be anything other than who you
are.”

Zig looked up at him, his eyes wide and hopeful.
“You are perfect just the way you are.”
“You flatter me.”
“Nope. Sorry, pal. You are fascinating to me.”
“I feel the same.”
Dalton grinned. “Are you sure you’re okay with what happened

tonight?”

“I do not know what you mean.”
“Well, today is your birthday, a day where you’re supposed to be

the center of attention, but you got a slave that ended up somehow
stealing the spotlight.”

“Yes.”
“I also know that Tanjin only bought me for you because he was

desperate to impress you. I swear, that man would have sold his soul
to gain your interest.”

“I do not wish to speak of Tanjin.”

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“I know. I’m not. Not really. I’m just saying that I get why he

gave me to you and that his gift went horribly wrong in his eyes. He
walked out of your party—or rather stomped out of it—feeling utterly
betrayed.”

“I never promised him anything.”
“I know. Trust me. I know. But he’s furious. He wants you so

much.”

“You are not telling me anything I don’t know.”
“Right. I’m telling you this, reminding you of this, because I want

you a hundred times more than Tanjin does. I know that he’s known
you longer than I have so his lust should be greater, but I have never
met anyone who compels me the way you do.”

“Not even Hunter?”
Dalton shook his head. “Hunter was my best friend. The way you

look at Tanjin is the way I looked at Hunter. I liked him. Oh, hell, I
even loved him. But I wasn’t interested in him romantically. Had I
stayed on Earth and grown a bigger pair of balls? Yeah. I might have
finally—after a shitload of angst—realized that Hunter and I could
have hooked up and been way more than friends with BDSM benefits.
But it never would have worked in the long run.”

“No?” Zig sounded even more hopeful yet far more afraid, too. It

was clear from his expression that he suffered the same inexplicable
jealousy toward Hunter that Dalton had felt toward Tanjin.

“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he simply wasn’t right for me.” Dalton took Zig’s hand

and placed it over his belly. “I didn’t feel it here, in my gut, that he
was the right guy.”

“And this is important to your species?”
“It’s vital to me.” Dalton lifted Zig’s hand from his stomach to his

mouth, kissing his palm. Zig visibly melted. Heat seemed to radiate
from his entire body. “You make my head, heart, groin, and all the
spots in between agree that you’re the right guy.”

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67

Zig looked relieved for about half a second. Then he looked

concerned.

“I know. I saw his face.”
Without mentioning his name, they were both talking about

Tanjin.

“He is happy he gave you a gift you love, but furious that same

gift is going to cost him a relationship with you.”

“I never encouraged him.” Zig gushed that information out as if

that alone could push Tanjin away.

“I know. I don’t think you needed to. Tanjin is smitten with you.”

When the word didn’t translate fully, Dalton had to only offer up a
few other variants to make Zig understand. Once he did, Zig nodded,
resolute and sad.

“I wish he would have let me go long ago.”
“How long has he been lusting after you?” Dalton thought the

keen interest was only a few weeks old at best.

“Long before I became the ruler of all Vegoth. At least three

tadarones.”

Dalton was stunned when he realized that the time increment was

a curious kind of prime number blended with a fractal. It was a logical
progression that Hunter would have grasped effortlessly. Dalton
struggled to put the pattern together in his head. If he had access to
paper and pen, he could have figured it out faster, but the end result
was the same. Dalton realized that tadarones were a progressive
number. Unlike feet or meters, tadarones were a formula that was
almost but not quite exponential. Saying that Tanjin was enamored of
Zigog for at least three tadarones meant that he’d been smitten with
Zig for a long time. Dalton figured it was anywhere from five to
possibly ten years.

“You look angry again.”
“I’m trying to compute the math of your time units in relation to

the time units I’m used to.”

“Does it matter?”

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After a moment where he wanted to say it totally did, Dalton had

to admit it totally didn’t. “No.” Dalton took Zig’s hand and kissed it
softly. “It only matters because I thought you were much younger
than me. I’m realizing that you are much older.”

“I ask again if that matters.”
“No.” Dalton realized that he really was ignorant of this culture.

But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The Vegoths lived for an
excessively long time. That was why Zigog looked so young but had
actually been ruler for so long. Oddly, that knowledge made him
rather sad. Zigog was young in his world’s terms. Dalton was young
in terms of Earth, but in terms of Vegoth, he was still an infant. How
could he and the king ever stay together when they weren’t going to
age at the same rate?

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Chapter 6

Zigog realized that the time units did matter. In an effort to

understand his slave, he suddenly grasped that Earthlings had a much
shorter lifespan than Vegoths.

“You will die very soon.”
“Only in your terms. In my terms I’ll live to be a ripe old eighty or

so.” Dalton smiled in an effort to show he wasn’t concerned, but it
was clear he was worried.

“What if it doesn’t work that way?” Zigog was afraid that the

planet itself would accelerate Dalton’s aging. When he said so, Dalton
shook his head but then looked away. It was clear he was trying to
cushion the blow that Zigog would feel. For a moment, Zigog
wondered why he would do such a thing, but then he realized that
Dalton was trying to be kind. Zigog realized that Dalton, despite his
need to be sexually in charge, would always go out of his way to be
considerate of those around him. It was such a juxtaposition of drives
that Zigog didn’t quite know what to make of him.

“You are not worried about yourself but far more concerned about

me.”

“And that makes me crazy, right?”
“No.” Zigog stepped close, cupped Dalton’s chin, and drew his

mouth close for a kiss. “That makes you astonishing.” Zigog kissed
his most perplexing slave. For a moment, he was able to forget about
everything from Tanjin to the time differential. Merging his body
with Dalton’s made all of that slip out of his awareness. Zigog
realized it was only a temporary amnesia. Soon enough, they would
stop touching, and all those thoughts would return. But until then, he

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was free.

Each kiss turned more passionate, prompting Dalton to grasp

Zigog and press him tight. He was able to feel the power in his lover’s
form, but when that power seemed to stiffen and edge back, Zigog
reluctantly let go.

“Dalton?”
“I want to see you without all this glitter.”
“You don’t like my dye?”
“It’s great, really, but I kinda feel like I’m humping a statue that

came to life.”

Zigog laughed. “I will go and clean it off. You may look around

as you please.”

“I thought I would join you.” There was no mistaking the look in

Dalton’s eyes.

“I do not think I would get very far in removing the dye if you

did.” Zigog pointed to a door that was next to his hygiene room.
“There is a separate cleaning room for you if you wish.”

Dalton gazed at the first door then tracked the slightly smaller

doors along the curved wall. “Fractals and primes. I notice that each
door is a little smaller.”

“They are for the members of my cluster.”
Dalton’s features seemed to reflect a sudden grimness. When

Zigog blinked, they were gone, replaced with a rather forced smile.
His Earthling seemed determined to project an air of acceptance
despite his concerns.

“This one here?” Dalton moved to the door right next to Zigog’s.
“Yes. I like the thought of knowing you will be naked in there

while I am naked in here.”

“Foreplay.”
“It that what it is?” Zigog realized he knew practically nothing

about sex. In a way he was relieved that Dalton seemed to know a
great deal.

“Kinda. Go on. Go clean up. I’ll do the same.”

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“There are garments within. I don’t know that they will fit you,

but you can wear anything you’d like.”

Dalton’s only response was a very lusty grin that told Zigog he

would probably emerge bare. His amoram quivered again, making
him keenly aware of his body’s needs. After a lifetime of practically
zero interest, he found it amazing that Dalton managed to make him
think of little other than sex for the entire evening. Zigog went into
the chamber with a strong feeling of anticipation.

As Zigog stripped the dye from his body and hair, he wondered if

they would only have this kind of interest in one another. He didn’t
think so. Dalton was clearly intelligent. They would be able to share
and speak on many things. But his shortened lifespan was a great
concern. Zigog wanted to know if he was now aging at an accelerated
rate. Even if he was, what could he do about that fact? Would
knowing do anything other than aggravate him?

Rather than dwell on something he could do nothing about, he

vowed to contact his liaison in the morning and have him find a
scholar who would endeavor to find out. Ramir might even know the
answer himself. If Dalton was rapidly aging, someone would be
charged with finding a way to stop the aging short of killing Dalton.
Death would certainly stop the process, but that wasn’t what Zigog
wanted at all. If anything, he would like an eternity to find out all
there was to know about Earthlings in general and Dalton in specific.
Zigog could not recall any alien visitor ever grasping the
mathematical structure of his world as quickly as Dalton had.

Stripped of his finery, Zigog considered his appearance in the

looking glass. He seemed so dreadfully plain. The only time he went
without his glorious coloring was when he was alone. This would be
the first time anyone would see him without his mask. As he stood
there, wondering what Dalton would make of him, Zigog stroked his
hand down his chest. Right above his amoram he hesitated. He didn’t
want to overexcite himself, but he couldn’t resist a gentle stroke over
the small hollow.

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He had touched himself before, mainly driven by curiosity, but

this time, his soft caress caused his entire body to warm. His skin
flushed, and his cock hardened. Realizing that if he tarried too much
longer he’d potentially ruin the rest of the evening, Zigog grabbed a
resting gown, slipped it over his shoulders, then fastened it along the
curved edge. The color was a light purple that enhanced the natural
color of his eyes. Oddly, he felt naked now that he had none of his
finery on. Would Dalton still be attracted to him? Dalton looked
wonderful without any enhancement, but since his first impression of
Zigog had come when he was at his most powerful, perhaps he would
no longer be interested.

“Hey.” There was a tap at the door. “Come on out here. I found

something.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.” Zigog hesitated, his hand pressed

against the door. Realizing that he had no choice but to simply face
his fear, Zigog struggled to remind himself that he was more than just
what he looked like. Clearly, Dalton had seen right through his mask.

Curious about what Dalton could have found in his bedroom,

Zigog tried to leave his concerns in the hygiene area, but he knew he
wouldn’t be successful. When he opened the door, he discovered
Dalton was sitting on the edge of his bed with a large book in his lap.
He was wearing a dark blue hip-wrap that accented his eyes. Zigog
was relieved and disappointed that he wasn’t entirely naked. His hair
was wet and finger-combed back, highlighting the structure of his
face. Without a doubt, Dalton was one of the most symmetrical beings
he’d ever seen.

When Dalton looked up and saw Zigog, he set the book aside.

“Wow.”

“I do not know what that means.”
“It means I probably shouldn’t stand up or I’ll embarrass myself.”
“How?”
“I’ve got a major hard-on.”
Zigog was not certain what that meant.

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73

“Just looking at you is making my cock so hard it hurts.”
Zigog blushed and smiled. He liked the way Dalton was so

forward about his arousal. “Are all Earthlings so blunt?”

“Naw. But they’re not hung like I am.”
It was another expression that Zigog didn’t quite understand.

“Where did you find that book?”

“It was here in the center of your bed. I was assuming it was

another gift. I guess your kind doesn’t wrap things up, though, huh? I
mean there wasn’t any paper on it or a card saying who it was from.”

“Someone left a book on my bed?” Zigog was thoroughly

perplexed. No one had access to his rooms but for the cleaning slaves,
and they were always supervised. Perhaps his advisor had placed the
book there. “What is it about?”

“Sex.” Dalton’s grin widened. “All about how Vegoths are

supposed to fit their bodies together.”

“You can read our language?”
“No. But I’m real good at looking at the pictures.”
“There are illustrations?”
“Better. There are holographs.” Dalton grinned as he picked the

book up and placed it in his lap. He flipped through a few pages and
then touched his finger to a spot on a page. An image popped up
before him.

“Oh.” Zigog settled on the bed next to Dalton. He was peering at

the image of a male Vegoth. A naked male Vegoth. A naked male
Vegoth who was clearly aroused.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
Zigog immediately compared himself to the male in the image. To

his relief, the male had no dyes or adornment. For some reason he
didn’t think he would measure up if he had to compete with a fully
accented male. “You would be more attracted to me if my hair was
long and dark?”

“What? No. Not at all. You’re fucking hot as hell, Zig. You’ve got

these long legs and your smile—oh. I get it.” Dalton closed the book

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and set it aside. “Is this the first time you’ve been around someone
without wearing the mask of your glitter?”

Zigog looked away, wondering how Dalton was able to

understand him so effortlessly. When Dalton touched his chin and
drew his attention back, Zigog looked up, hoping that he wouldn’t
make fun of him.

“I don’t care if you’re bare, glittering, or you somehow fall in

mud. You are always going to be sexy to me.”

“Always?”
“Always. I’m attracted to you. Yeah, I know, we just met and this

is all happening very fast. I’m thinking it’s something to do with
pheromones—”

“What are those?”
“Chemical messengers.” Dalton explained about how

imperceptible scents controlled all kinds of things like mating. “But I
also was attracted to you visually. The way you walked into that room
tonight…yeah. That was fucking hot.” His smile was so wide he
simply couldn’t speak around it. “You were so proud and just—damn.
You were sexy because you were confident. Yet somehow, now that
you’re shy, you’re just as attractive.”

“That sounds very complicated.”
“It is. At least it seems to be with me. From my anatomy class,

attraction for humans isn’t really understood, so trying to figure it out
between humans and Vegoths might be impossible. Basically, you are
just as sexy to me wearing none of that stuff as you were to me when
you were wearing all of it.”

Zigog was so excited and pleased he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Instead, he grabbed the book and put it into Dalton’s lap. “We should
look through it together.”

“I think we should. I need you to read the words to me.” Dalton

cast him a sideways glance. “And when I’m not sure about something,
you can show me on your body.”

Again, Zigog couldn’t answer, so he nodded.

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75

“And of course, I’ll show you what’s different on me.” Dalton

slowly flipped through the book.

As the pages went by, Zigog realized the printed words were

extremely explicit. This wasn’t a book just about anatomy but also an
instruction manual. It showed how a male could fit together with a
female or another male or a combination of bodies. The book also
discussed the difference between sexual congress for the purposes of
creating offspring and for obtaining pleasure. Dalton seemed
fascinated by the way Vegoths differentiated the two.

“It’s clearly written for a male.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because it’s not going into detail about how two females can fit

together. Its focus is on how a male can pleasure another male or a
female. Wow.” Dalton stopped talking altogether when an image of a
Vegoth female popped up.

“You are interested in her?”
“I’m curious, yeah. If you’re asking if I want to bang her, then no.

I like females, but I’ve got no interest in having sex with them.”
Dalton flashed him another smile. “I like men.”

“Then why are you looking at her?”
“Because I’m curious.” Dalton shrugged and pointed. “She’s got a

huge clit.”

The word didn’t translate at all. After pointing, Zigog realized he

was talking about the female’s amolas.

“What does it do?”
“It’s a pleasure center.”
“Ah. That’s what a human female’s clit is for. Or so I’ve been

told.”

“You have not pleasured a female?”
“Nope. Not that way at least. I dated and did the gentlemanly

thing.”

When Zigog peered at him curiously, Dalton explained.
“On my world it’s still not okay for a gay guy to be out.”

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“It’s very frustrating when the words you speak make sense but

are put together in a way that is meaningless.”

“Sorry. It’s slang, and it clearly doesn’t translate. On Earth, when

a man likes other men, he doesn’t always tell other people that’s what
he’s interested in. Being out means you are open about it.”

“So you were in.”
“Yeah. In the world of sports, sexual orientation is—yeah. I was

wearing a mask more detailed than yours. I pretended to like women,
but I really—I like them but not that way. Fuck. I’m bumbling my
way through this so horribly because I feel guilty for what I did. I
used those women to make everyone think I was straight—
heterosexual—when I wasn’t.”

“I am not upset with you.”
“Thank you.” Dalton kissed his cheek. “But I’m upset with me.

No one can make me feel as guilty about my own behavior as I can.”

“It seems that all sentient species wear one type of mask or

another.” Zigog actually felt closer to Dalton once he realized they
shared that particular need.

“I think so.” Dalton looked directly into Zigog’s eyes. “I’ll do my

best to take my mask off when I’m with you.”

“I shall endeavor to do the same.”
Zigog closed the distance between them, kissing Dalton on the

lips. He was just falling into the act when Dalton groaned and pulled
back. “Don’t distract me, you sexy thing, you. I’m trying to learn all
about Vegoths so I can really sex you up and blow your mind.”

“I think I will enjoy being sexed up, but I would like to retain my

intellect.” Zigog turned his attention back to the book when Dalton
did.

“What’s this other image here?” Dalton tilted his head to the side,

clearly trying to make sense of the smaller holograph.

“That is an amoram.”
“So some women have an amolas and some have an amoram?”
“Females have an amolas. Males have an amoram.” Zigog flipped

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77

a few pages over then activated a different image.

Dalton’s mouth came open, but nothing came out.
“Dalton?”
“You have a little…pocket.”
Zigog waited, wondering why Dalton seemed so stunned. When

he didn’t say anything, only stared at the picture, Zigog grew
concerned. What was it about the small organ that so shocked him?
Did he find it disgusting or riveting?

“Do you not have an amoram?” Zigog had heard that sometimes

Vegoths were born with altered forms, but it was said to be
exceedingly rare.

“I don’t.” Dalton looked at him then his gaze slid down the front

of Zigog’s chest to his hips. “Can I see yours?”

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Chapter 7

Dalton had found the book extremely educational. Especially the

section about anal sex. It seemed the Vegoths were a highly fertile
sort who got pregnant at the drop of a hat, even when protection was
used. So anal sex was the preferred mode of intercourse for all contact
between the sexes unless they specifically wished to procreate.
Enchanted by the whole concept of that particular sex act having all
the shame and taboo stripped off of it was something he could barely
wrap his head around.

The kissing, licking, and touching of one another in that area was

no more shocking than doing the same things to other body parts.
Dalton felt like the heavens had opened up and a bunch of angels
were singing halleluiah. As happy as that made him, he’d then been
fascinated by the enlarged clit of the female Vegoths. It was about the
size of his little finger and about an inch long. It wasn’t horribly
enlarged, but big enough to stand out. Much like a female clitoris, it
was hidden by skin when the female wasn’t aroused, which was what
he thought the second image was trying to show, but it didn’t look
right. When he was confused about the close-up images, Zigog had
told him that while the females had an amolas, the males had a
corresponding organ called an amoram. It was a little divot about the
size of a belly button.

It took a moment for him to visualize that when a male penetrated

a female with his cock, her enlarged clit fit into the little pocket of the
male. Dalton had never thought much about the variation of sexual
organs in the universe. For some utterly bizarre reason he assumed
most bipeds had basically the same setup. Apparently, the Vegoths

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79

were similar but also had some profound differences.

“You want to see mine?” Zigog looked scared to death.
“Hey, whoa.” Dalton set the book aside and took Zig’s hand. “I’m

curious, but we can slow this way the hell down.”

Zigog looked at him and then at Dalton’s hips. “You don’t have

one, do you?”

“I don’t. I have a belly button, though.” Dalton leaned back so

that the smooth blue fabric dropped a little, revealing his belly. “We
have that in common.”

Tentatively, Zig reached out and stroked over Dalton’s belly

button. “It’s similar to an amoram.”

“It is?” Dalton considered the little pocket and realized it did look

an awful lot like the close-up. “Are you disappointed that I don’t have
one?”

“Why would I be?” Zig frowned up at him as he continued to

stroke over the suddenly sensitive skin of Dalton’s belly. “Are you
upset that I do have one?”

“No! Not at all. I just—that’s why I wanted to see it. I’m curious.

I think it’s awesome you’ve got an extra erogenous zone.”

When Zig pulled his hand back and rather reluctantly started to

unfasten his robe, Dalton stayed his hand.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to. That you’re on

display.” Dalton put the purple robe back to rights, loving the way the
color enhanced Zig’s purple eyes. Unlike the glittering dye, the purple
was all real and totally stunning. “Let’s stop this now.”

“I don’t want to stop!” Zig seemed panicked.
“Whoa! Calm down. I don’t mean stop forever, but it’s late, I’m

tired, you’re really just…skittish.”

“I do not know that word, but if you tell me how to be, then—”
“Zig.” Dalton was stunned that for a king, Zig seemed almost

desperate to please. “You’re jumpy. It’s like you’re afraid of me.”
Dalton enjoyed being a badass and projecting his macho Dom
attitude, but that was something he did for play. He didn’t want to be

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that way all the time with Zig. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But I thought you enjoyed spanking your lovers?”
“I do. Well, hell, I will. Or at least I think I will. I’ve never gone

all the way.” Dalton almost laughed at himself. He’d mocked Hunter
for using that kind of lame language, and here he was, doing the same
damn thing. “I want to do everything with you.”

“Everything?” If anything, Zig seemed even more terrified.
“Not all at once.” Dalton struggled to understand what was going

on. “Please tell me why you’re so nervous all of a sudden.”

Zig shook his head and closed his eyes. “I thought that tonight

would be my first time.”

“Aw, hell.” Dalton realized Zig had gotten himself all psyched out

for the big event. “I think you’ve just put way too much pressure on
yourself.”

“I thought that was the point of this. Everything you said in the

cage…”

Dalton realized he’d come on like gangbusters then went all

monkish when the moment came. He wanted to say he was being
respectful of Zig, but there was more to his reluctance than that. He
didn’t want to hurt his golden king, but he was also afraid of hurting
himself. What he’d told Hunter was totally true. If he met someone he
really liked and sex turned into love, he’d end up hating them. His
parents were a prime example of that fucked-up dynamic. Dalton
realized he’d always put off sex due to that fear and he was still doing
the same damn thing with Zig. Had they come in here and done a
scene, he would have been fine, but this was scary.

“Dalton? Did you mean what you said to me earlier in the cage?”
“Ah, Zig.” Dalton laughed at himself and wrapped his arm around

Zig’s shoulders. “I did mean what I said, but there’s a bit of a
problem.”

“With me?”
“No. With my parents.”
“What do they have to do with this?”

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“They shouldn’t have anything to do with it, but apparently they

do.”

“I do not understand you.”
“Sex is supposed to be fun. And I think it will be. But I’m afraid

of sex turning into love and that turning into hate. I’m afraid of
everything getting very complicated.”

“You do not want to love me?”
“I think that’s what I’m afraid of.”
When Zig pulled away, Dalton realized he was making a total

mess of everything. “I’m not so good at this honesty thing. I mean,
I’m telling you the truth, but I’m mangling the shit out of it. I’m
afraid of falling in love. Not just with you. But with anyone.”

“We can have sex but not love?” Zig was clearly trying to

establish the parameters of their relationship.

“I don’t want that. I want to have sex. I want to fall in love. I just

don’t want things to turn ugly.”

Zig’s confusion lifted. “Your parents turned love ugly?”
“Yeah. Really ugly. All they did was fight and hurt one another.”
“They would play those power games you talked about?”
Dalton almost blurted no, but he reconsidered. “I guess they did in

a way. But rather than have anything structured, they just went off on
one another.”

“They didn’t have rules?”
“Right. I think they just struggled constantly for supremacy when

a couple—a good couple—works together for the same objective. I
would never demand you submit to me in public.”

Zig made a face. “You were arrogant and kissing me and making

me look a fool tonight.”

“Yeah.” Dalton cringed. “I did. I’m sorry. I meant now that I

know you I won’t do that again.”

The look Zig flashed him was clearly dubious.
“I did that tonight to get your attention.”
“You were rude to me to get me to notice you?”

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“It worked, didn’t it?”
After a moment to consider, Zig nodded.
“If I hadn’t have been disinterested in you, you never would have

been so fascinated with me. Right?”

“Possibly.”
“So I did act like an ass, but I won’t do that again.” Dalton

realized Zig was still a little worried. “Hey, when you let me out of
my cage to mingle with your guests, I behaved like a perfect
gentleman. Right?”

“You did.”
“So I can be trusted.”
“You can.” Zig took Dalton’s hand. “But can I?”
“I trust you.”
“You just said you were worried about sex turning to love.”
“Yeah. Right.” Dalton considered that they weren’t going to go

anywhere without trust. He’d noted that before. Trust and honesty. It
was scary as hell, but he really liked Zig, and he wanted to see where
things would go. “Can you promise me something?”

“If I’m able.”
“If it ever turns out that you don’t like me anymore, will you set

me free rather than sell me or have me killed?”

“Why would I ever stop liking you?”
“I dunno. Just—promise me. Please.”
Zig placed his hand to his forehead. “I promise that if ever I don’t

like you anymore, I will set you free.”

“Thank you.”
“And now you must promise me that you will always be

respectful of me in public. What we do in private has no bearing on
my need to be seen as a strong leader.”

Dalton placed his hand over his heart. “I promise.”
“Why do you put your hand there?”
“It’s where my heart is. Why do you swear on your head?”
“We swear on our brains since that is where everything is seated.”

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“Right. Intellectually, humans know that all our emotions and

stuff comes from our brains, but we have a tendency to romanticize
the heart. Love and strong feelings are said to come from there. So we
swear on our hearts.” Dalton put his hand to his head. “But I also
swear on my brain that I will always be respectful of you. Even in
private.”

“But the games we shall play...”
“I’ll still be respectful of you. That’s something that applies in

here and out there.”

Zig smiled, and for the first time all evening, he seemed to be

truly relaxed. And then he looked at Dalton with a hungry kind of
curiosity. “Do you still wish to see my amoram?”

“Yeah.” Dalton tempered his interest with a need to slow things

down. “But we’ll get there eventually. Let’s start out with some
kissing.” Dalton rose to set the book aside. As he did, he realized the
book was elaborately bound and probably very expensive. Since
Tanjin had spent a fortune buying an Earthling for the king’s gift,
Dalton doubted he’d bought Zig the manual. Still, it was an issue he
could ponder later. Once he’d placed it on one of the many tables, he
turned and found that Zig was standing next to the bed.

Dalton was relieved that Zig appeared to be excited. Much to his

surprise, he found he was, too. Again, he felt giddy. It was a word
he’d never used in connection with himself, but it was the only word
that fit what he was feeling.

“Should I get in?”
Dalton shook his head then pulled Zig into his arms. Rather than

kiss him, he just held him. He was strong, warm, and now that he’d
shed his curious metal-plated underwear, Dalton was able to feel him
pressed against his body. Zig was semihard, just like Dalton himself.
But the longer he held him, the harder Zig got. His arousal spurred
Dalton’s.

Lowering his head to the hollow between Zig’s shoulder and

neck, Dalton kissed him and sighed out against his skin. With a

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corresponding moan of surrender, Zig leaned his head to the side,
making himself vulnerable. Rather than pounce, as the ruthless Dom
inside him wanted, Dalton placed a series of openmouthed kisses all
along Zig’s exposed skin. Working his way up to Zig’s ear, he
nuzzled his nose to his earlobe then sighed right into Zig’s ear.

The sound the king made in response was so lusciously sexy

Dalton thought he was going to go a little crazy. Instead, he hardened
and pressed so firmly against the cloth he’d slung around his hips he
had to remove it or he’d end up hurting himself. Once it was gone, he
realized all he’d done was make his predicament a million times
worse. Now he could feel the silky fabric of Zig’s robe directly, but
also the taste—a very maddeningly luscious sample—of what it
would feel like to actually press close to Zig without the barrier of
clothes.

Unfortunately, as soon as Dalton’s minimal clothing was gone,

Zig tightened up. It wasn’t the full-on fear reaction he’d had earlier,
but it was clear he was frightened.

“Remember, my beautiful king. I won’t do anything you don’t

want me to.”

“How do I tell you that?”
Dalton remembered something he’d read about using traffic

signals during a BDSM scene. “When you are overwhelmed and want
me to stop, say red. When you’re not sure, say yellow. When you like
what I’m doing, say green.”

“That is far too complicated.” Zig lifted his head, looking into

Dalton’s eyes. “Why would you use colors?”

“Sorry. It’s from traffic lights on Earth. Never mind. That’s not

going to work for you. I just wanted an easy way for you—”

“Stop, go slow, keep going.”
Dalton almost laughed. Leave it to his own kind to

overcomplicate something so simple.

“That will work for me.” Zig leaned up and kissed him with a

passion that was so demanding it was Dalton who moved back.

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“Dalton?”
“Red.” He realized he was using traffic signals even though he

and Zig had just agreed they weren’t necessary. “Stop. I need to stop
for a second.”

“I understand.” Rather than press him for more, Zig waited.
Somehow, that tiny act of understanding moved something major

inside Dalton. As scary as the idea of becoming emotionally intimate
with Zig was, there was much more to be gained than lost. Knowing
that didn’t remove all the worry, but it made him feel far more
confident. When he was ready, he pulled Zig close and kissed him.

Zig melted into him. Dalton kept right on kissing but moved

across his face then down his neck, lifting up occasionally to breathe
into his ear. When Zig moaned softly, Dalton knew he really liked to
have his neck and ears teased. Slowly, with careful attention to Zig’s
reaction, Dalton worked the collar of Zig’s robe apart. His goal was to
explore him without putting him back into a state of panic. Or himself
for that matter.

It seemed once he admitted that he was just as nervous as Zig, he

was better able to focus on making both of them feel good rather than
playing some kind of power game. Dalton suddenly realized he’d
only done that particular activity because it kept him emotionally
distant. In a way, the leather and power structure was like an
emotional condom.

Removing Zig’s robe turned out to be more complicated than he’d

thought it would be. The fasteners were like everything else on this
planet—extremely complex. Still, as he worked his fingers around the
curved edge, Dalton made a point of not looking down. He knew that
Zig was concerned about the presentation of his body. Dalton decided
he would look first with his hands. Easing him back, Dalton got Zig
under the covers. Despite the heavy look of the elaborately
embroidered bedclothes, they were surprisingly light and almost
shamefully silky over his skin.

There was another moment where Zig seemed to tighten up, but

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Dalton made a point of continuing his gentle seduction. He kissed him
again and again, paying attention to his upper body. When he felt Zig
was ready for more, Dalton kissed his shoulders, his arms, and then
his hands. Waiting for him to literally squirm practically cost Dalton
his sanity, but he managed. He wanted to make sure he was ready.

“Please go lower. I will tell you if I’m afraid or if I want you to

stop.”

Encouraged, Dalton caressed Zig’s chest, surprised that while he

had nipples, they weren’t very sensitive. However, there was a spot
below them that was. It was curious. As Dalton followed the path of
sensitivity, he realized the nipples were the start of a path of nerves
that spiraled outward. Now the image in the book made sense. He’d
thought it was some kind of complicated body art, but apparently,
their erogenous zones were also laid out in a curious fractal pattern.
Touching the center of Zig’s nipple then spiraling his caress outward
caused Zig to toss his head back and buck.

Working his way lower, Dalton discovered that Zig’s belly button

was very high and more like a slim scar than a button. Strokes in that
area did nothing so he went lower. This time, there was no hesitation
or tightness in Zig’s form. As Dalton pushed down the blankets, he
revealed Zig’s lower half.

His amoram was just like the picture. It was a small pocket

perched above his cock. When he sighed and his breath caressed Zig’s
skin, the amoram quivered. Delicately, Dalton stroked over the tiny
bit of flesh, eliciting a moan of bliss that made the short hairs along
the back of his neck stiffen. He was almost afraid of how good it felt
to rock Zig’s world. There was a power exchange here, but it wasn’t
like anything he’d ever allowed himself to feel.

As he teased Zig’s pleasure pocket, he realized that the king’s

cock was struggling to come up from under the blankets. Before he
could push them aside, Zig kicked them off, exposing himself in one
flash.

He was beautiful. Just like in the book, he had no hair on his body

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but for his head. His testicles were high and tight, nestled right under
the base of his long, thin cock. He didn’t have a foreskin, but the skin
that surrounded his shaft was extremely soft and loose. Dalton wasn’t
sure why, but there had been a picture in the book, so there must be a
reason.

An urge to lick along his shaft possessed Dalton, so he leaned

over and took the head of Zig’s cock into his mouth. Zig’s reaction
was a primal urge to thrust, but Dalton was ready. Bracing his hands
against his hips, Dalton held him down as he drew his cock deeper
into his mouth. Once he reached the base, he smoothed his cheek
against his amoram, making Zig buck and struggle.

A surge of raw power rose up in Dalton. What shocked him was

this feeling of mastery was similar to what he’d felt when he’d acted
out scenes with Hunter. But it was better because this was three times
as profound. He literally had total control over Zig. Everything he did
just pushed Zig into a great urgency for release.

But what really shot him into orbit was when Dalton took his

mouth off his cock and tongued his pleasure pocket. Zig made a
sound that was so wickedly tormented Dalton almost climaxed
against the sheets. When he pointed his tongue and thrust into the
amoram, Zig struggled so violently that Dalton had to straddle his
legs and use his entire body to hold him down.

It was better than any bindings he could fathom. Using his own

body as a means of restraint pushed his power-hungry Dom persona
into such a state of bliss he almost didn’t hear Zig begging him to
stop.

Terrified that he’d hurt him, Dalton moved off him so fast he slid

across the slick surface of the bed and landed hard on the floor.

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Chapter 8

Zigog had never felt anything so pleasurable as the wet heat of

Dalton’s mouth. When he took his cock inside, Zigog was convinced
that sensation was the best thing he would ever know. But then he’d
tongued his amoram. Pointed thrusts into the tiny space spiraled
pleasure out along Zigog’s entire body until he felt he would simply
explode. Desperate to stop himself from annihilation, he’d cried out
for Dalton to stop, never imagining he’d make him panic and fall off
the bed.

“Dalton?” Horrified, Zigog slid to the edge and peered over.
“I’m okay. Did I hurt you?”
“No. But I couldn’t breathe. It was—something was happening. I

thought I was going to explode.”

Dalton looked dreadfully concerned but then tilted his head.

“Have you ever had an orgasm before?”

“What’s that?”
Dalton got the book then returned to the bed, giving Zigog a quick

look at his body. His groin and legs were covered with dark hair,
making him appear somewhat like a beast. Rather than be repulsed,
Zigog was curious. Was the hair soft? When Dalton slid in beside
him, he rubbed his leg down Zigog’s. His body hair was soft but
crisp. As much as Zigog wanted to touch him, he wasn’t quite ready
just yet.

Rapidly, Dalton flipped through the pages then handed the book

to Zigog. “See if there’s something about orgasm, climax, release,
anything like that.”

“If I knew what it was, perhaps I could find it.”

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“It’s when you ejaculate. It deposits the products of conception.”
“Oh. That.” Zigog turned the pages more slowly, looking for the

section on reproduction. When he found it and read about the process,
he realized that he’d been on the verge of reaching his first orgasm. “I
was scared.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dalton set the book on the floor then slid

back down to where he’d been before. “Now just relax this time and
let it happen.”

“But I want you inside me.”
A look of longing came over Dalton’s face. “Are you sure? I

really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?”
“We don’t have any lube.” When Zigog only peered at him, he

added, “Lubrication. I can’t just slide into you without help. It’ll hurt,
and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“I have something.” Zigog was up and out of the bed as fast as he

could go. Everything he might ever need was in his hygiene room. He
was hoping that what Dalton needed would be there, too. When he
found a bottle at the back of the lower cabinet, he grasped it and then
stood there, excited, scared, and aroused. Zigog had never felt so
many conflicting feelings all at once.

“We don’t have to do this.”
He turned and found Dalton in the doorway.
“I want to.”
“You look scared shitless.”
It translated horribly, but Zigog understood that he was not being

literal. “Of course I’m nervous. It’s my first time.”

“Mine, too.” Dalton met his gaze.
“I’m sorry. I forgot that this is your first time, too. Should we

stop?”

“No. I’m just—I’m afraid. What does it mean to be with you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Am I your pet?”

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“You’re my slave.”
“Okay. Semantics. But you own me. I know you promised me that

you would free me if you ever got bored but…”

“But?”
“But sometimes things go a way you weren’t expecting and—”
“Is this about your parents again?”
“Yeah. No. Fuck. I don’t know. I’m accusing you of being scared

when I’m about half out of my mind with it.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to trust each other.” Zigog handed

him the lube and then walked past him. He didn’t know if Dalton was
following him or not until he got back into the bed. Dalton came with
the lube in hand. He looked pensive, but not nearly as concerned as he
had been before. And he was clearly aroused. His heavy cock swayed
with his steps.

When Dalton found Zigog staring, he smiled. “You want to keep

going?”

“I do.”
“Good. So do I.”
Dalton got back into the bed. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I

was going to give you your first orgasm.”

“While you’re inside me.”
“Hmm.” Dalton parted Zigog’s legs then knelt between. “I’ll try

to make the stars align, but you’ve got a lot of moving parts.”

“What does that mean?”
“Just like everything else in your culture, your sexual response is

complicated. I’ll have to keep myself from going crazy and climaxing
while stimulating your cock and amoram.” Dalton sighed heavily but
then smiled. “A sex god’s work is never easy.”

“You think of yourself as a god of sex?”
“Hey, I’m trying to build myself up here so I don’t completely

freak out.”

“You realize that there’s no way you could fail, don’t you?”
“There isn’t?”

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“You’re already the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“Aw.” Dalton grinned, and his face flushed pink. “You are very

sweet. But Tanjin gave me to you. My gift to you is…well, actually
I’m taking something from you.”

“What’s that?”
“Your virginity.” Dalton opened the bottle and inspected the

contents before slathering some all over his cock. “But in return, I’m
giving you mine. I hope to also give you your first orgasm.”

With his slick fingers, Dalton stroked over Zigog’s cock, his balls,

and then into the split of his ass. When he touched his hole, Zigog
was stunned to find a corresponding tingle in his amoram and nipples.
The deeper Dalton’s probing finger went, the more intense the
feelings across his body became. When he slid two fingers in and out,
Zigog lifted his hips. He wanted more. Intense longing swirled around
his entire body. Each pump of Dalton’s fingers elevated him another
notch until he swore if he opened his eyes, he would discover himself
pressed into the ceiling. Just when he didn’t think he could take
anymore, Dalton plunged three fingers within.

Zigog had never thought he’d experience anything so all

consuming. He was so wrapped up in the moment that he was barely
aware of Dalton slipping pillows under him. When he pulled his hand
away, Zigog let out a wail of frustration that turned into a moan of
bliss as Dalton’s cock pressed against him. He struggled to open his
eyes but found he simply couldn’t when Dalton wrapped his fist
around Zigog’s cock. As he penetrated him, Dalton stroked Zigog’s
shaft. As if this wasn’t enough to make him thrash in ecstasy, he then
rubbed the back of his hand along his amoram each time he stroked
upward on Zigog’s cock.

There was so much stimulation Zigog felt that he couldn’t

breathe. The fear of exploding was back, but he wanted to know what
it would be like to reach such a pinnacle of temptation that he clung to
the fact he was safe.

“Let go, Zig. Just let go and let it happen.”

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Zigog tried, but something held him back. He was so close that he

felt the moment waiting for him, but he simply couldn’t get there. It
was madness to want something so desperately and not have any idea
of how to get there.

Dalton kept to his relentless movements. His cock slid in and out

of Zigog’s ass, each pass upping the torment. Dalton’s hand kept right
on stroking over the length of Zigog’s cock. But then he placed his
other hand over the amoram. At first he pressed down, but then he
took his finger and pressed into the pocket.

Zigog made a sound of relief. That was what was missing. “There.

Yes. Press hard into my amoram.”

Dalton did as he begged. Suddenly, everything came together, and

a firestorm of sensation contracted Zigog’s entire body. His cock
extended and gushed over his belly, the hot contents coating Dalton’s
hand and probing finger. Before he could understand what was
happening, he felt Dalton nestle deep into his ass and find his own
release.

For a timeless moment, Zigog was so fully aware of himself he

could practically count each individual molecule. He opened his eyes
and discovered that Dalton’s were closed. Bliss turned Dalton’s face
starkly beautiful. Zigog realized that he was in that same place of
utter contentment. After a series of shivers that caused Dalton to
nudge his cock just a little deeper, Dalton opened his eyes and smiled
down at Zigog.

There were no words for what they’d just shared. It had been

beyond anything he’d experienced before. Now he understood why
Dalton was afraid. Sharing something that moving left Zigog feeling
extremely vulnerable. When he looked deep into Dalton’s eyes, he
realized he felt that way, too.

“I’m glad I waited.” Dalton released Zigog from his hold but

didn’t pull out. “Are you okay?”

“I feel almost like I’m floating.”
“I wasn’t too rough?” Dalton stroked his fingertip over Zig’s

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amoram, making him shiver.

“Not at all. Slipping your finger into my amoram was what made

everything that was spiraling around my body find something to focus
on. Once you pressed in there, I felt it all made sense.”

“It’s like there’s a complex formula to get you to orgasm.”
“You seem very proud that you managed to get me there.”
“I am! Like I said, that’s a lot of moving parts to contend with.”

Dalton’s smile softened. “I wanted your first time to be good.”

“Good? It was amazing.” Zigog hesitated. “It wasn’t as good for

you, was it?”

“Are you kidding? You were epic.”
“Epic?”
“So good they will write songs to you.”
Zigog felt he was being flattered but didn’t care. “What do we do

now?”

“We snuggle and talk while we wait for sleep to come and get us.”

Dalton eased back until his cock pulled free.

“Or we could go clean up and do more things together.”
Dalton scrunched up his face as if he were deeply considering that

idea. After half a second, he was up, offering out his hand to Zigog.

By the time they wore themselves out, it was almost morning. As

Zigog drifted off to sleep curled up against Dalton, he knew he would
have to go back to the relentless demands of his position. But at least
now when he was finished for the day, he’d have someone to return to
his room for. Hopefully, Dalton would want to be there for him.

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Chapter 9

Dalton woke with a smile on his face that quickly turned into a

frown. Zig was gone. He sat up and confirmed that he wasn’t
anywhere in the room. When he listened, he didn’t hear him in the
bathroom, either.

Puzzled, because he couldn’t imagine what would drag him out of

bed after such a short time sleeping, Dalton got up, cleaned up, and
then wandered around, looking at all the curious things in Zig’s room.
There were dozens of stunning objects that had to be art of some kind.
Just like everything else, they were extremely complicated. So much
so that he couldn’t quite make sense of them no matter how often he
looked at them.

After a while, servants came in to clean up, but they wouldn’t

speak to Dalton. Or perhaps they didn’t understand him. It was
difficult to say. There was another watching them work who seemed
to be in charge of them, but he wouldn’t talk to Dalton either. When
they left, Dalton tried to follow, but one of the gargantuan guards cut
him off and pointed back into Zig’s bedroom.

“You will await the supreme ruler.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You will await the supreme ruler.”
No matter what Dalton said, that was all the guard would give him

in answer. Frustrated, Dalton went back into Zig’s room. To his great
disappointment, he realized there was only the one door in or out of
the place and there were no windows.

“What kind of a king doesn’t even have a view?”
The more he looked at the room, the more he started to think of it

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as a prison cell. It was elaborate as hell, but everything here was. Still,
it just didn’t seem right that Zigog Claelyan, supreme ruler of all
Vegoth, would be relegated to one relatively small room. Curious
about the string of bathrooms, Dalton realized they were all locked
but for the first two. Since he had nothing else to do, he spent his day
trying to pick the locks.

“Well, that confirms what I always feared. I never would have

made it as a career criminal.” He’d spent hours on the damn things
and didn’t get the knobs to turn so much as a centimeter. When he
tapped on the doors, they sounded oddly solid. By tapping on his
bathroom door while closed, he realized that there wasn’t actually a
lock because he didn’t think there was an actual room beyond the
door.

“It’s a fake.”
The more Dalton looked around the room, the more he suspected

that this was exactly what he thought it was. A cell. Zigog could come
and go freely, but Dalton certainly couldn’t. But there was something
off there, too, because Zigog had clearly been living here for a long
time. He hadn’t just brought Dalton here last night to keep him locked
up.

Someone was keeping Zig a virtual prisoner. But who? And why?

Baffled, Dalton tried to remember the layout of the rooms he’d seen.
There was the big room where the birthday party had been. When he
and Zig left there, they’d walked down a long curved hall. Dalton
didn’t remember doorways along that massive hall. The more he
thought about the dimensions, the more he thought Zig’s bedroom
was basically tucked into the center.

“Just like the design over the bed.” Dalton lay on his back and

looked up, putting what he’d seen of the palace into that pattern. It fit.
But why? Surely, Zigog knew that he was sleeping in the center of
some massive structure. Maybe that was the way of their culture? All
things flowed out from the center, which Zigog was.

“So where do the other people live?” From the way the tiles

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unfolded, he figured they were in the outer ring. The more important
the room, the closer it was to the center. Dalton felt a wave of
claustrophobia. Despite the fact that Zig’s room was massive, he still
felt as if the walls were closing in on him. What if there was a fire or
some kind of emergency? Would the guards let him out, or would
they just shove him back in, telling him to wait for the supreme ruler?
Dalton had to sit on the edge of the bed with his head between his
knees, drawing breath after breath, to finally calm down. He’d never
had a panic attack or been prone to any kind of phobia before. The
best he could figure was that his brain was simply overwhelmed.

Exhausted, he lay on his back in the center of the bed and fell

asleep.

Dalton wasn’t sure what woke him, but when he opened his eyes

and sat up, he discovered Zig was standing at the foot of the bed. He
was once again glittering, but he was wearing far more clothing. Way
too much clothing as a matter of fact.

“I did not mean to wake you.” Zigog was working his way from

the top of his collar down a sweeping curve.

“I’m glad you did. I missed you.”
“I missed you.” Each tiny button revealed only the smallest

fraction of his flesh. It was like slow-motion foreplay.

“Why are you so covered up?” From just under his jaw all the

way down, he was encased in clothing. Even his hands were covered
with gloves.

“Only during celebrations do I and my court wear next to

nothing.”

“Why do you undress for parties?”
“Displaying ourselves that way is to attract partners for our

clusters. The rest of the time we are completely covered but for our
faces.” Zig sighed as he continued to work on his buttons. “Courting
is a very complicated dance for Vegoths.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” Dalton rose and moved to Zig’s side.

While he worked on the jacket, Dalton dropped to his knees and got

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to work removing his shoes and trousers. “There has to be over one
hundred buttons on this outfit.”

“One hundred twenty-seven.”
Dalton considered. “Of course. That’s a prime number.”
Eventually, Zig was free of his clothing, and Dalton realized only

his face and hair were dyed gold. It seemed logical that they would
only color the part that was showing, but it made him look almost as
if he were wearing someone else’s head.

“I’ll clean up.”
“And send for some food.”
“Food?”
“I haven’t eaten all day.”
“How often do you eat?”
“Three or more times a day. Why?”
“We only eat once a day. But I will let my staff know you eat

more often.”

While Zig went off to clean up, Dalton settled on the edge of the

bed. He was wearing the blue towel thing around his hips again, but
he considered pulling on his jeans. He changed his mind when he
realized having more clothing on wasn’t going to make the
conversation he needed to have with Zig any easier.

When Zig emerged from the bathroom, he practically ran into

Dalton’s arms, thoroughly distracting him. And then a veritable feast
was brought in, further delaying their discussion. By the time they got
around to talking, Dalton was sleepy from his massive meal. Tucked
into the center of the palace, he had no concept of day or night. His
circadian rhythms were all messed up, and he felt another wave of
claustrophobia sweep over him. He pushed it away by reminding
himself the walls were most certainly not closing in on the supreme
ruler of the planet.

And then suddenly Dalton was back in bed with Zig where

nothing mattered. He was kissing him, stroking him, and ultimately
burying his cock deep into the snug heat of his ass. It was delicious.

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This time though, Zig refused to stay passive. He managed to get
Dalton on his back then rode on top of him like a man desperate to
tame a wild bull. Watching him stroke over his cock and pleasure
pocket turned Dalton on to the point he bucked so violently he almost
threw Zig off. But Zig just clamped his legs around Dalton’s hips and
kept right on going until they both climaxed.

“Pink.”
“What?”
“Your ejaculate is pink.” He hadn’t noticed last night, probably

because the color looked different against Zig’s skin rather than his
own. It was a very light pink that reminded Dalton of dishwashing
liquid.

“What color is yours?”
“White.”
“Does it matter?”
“No. Like I told you before, I’m just curious about everything. I

figured out the loose skin around your shaft is so your cock can
expand right before your release because it’s holding all that pink
cream.”

After another brief shower, they were back at it, but this time

Dalton was taking Zig from behind. His ass was utter perfection.
Dalton found himself stroking over his pale flesh, contemplating what
it would feel like to smack him and watch his globes shake.

“Go ahead.” Zig wiggled his butt. “I know you want to.”
Dalton tried to resist and wasn’t even sure why. Zig wanted him

to. He wanted to. It was safe, sane, and consensual. Hell, it was just a
light paddling, not a full on whipping or anything painful. But
something was preventing Dalton from raising his hand to Zig.

“I can’t.”
“Why?” Zig looked back over his shoulder. “I thought this was

what you liked?”

“I thought so, too. But it’s different now.” Dalton realized what

had changed was something inside himself. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m

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not the same guy I was yesterday.”

Zig turned around and settled on the bed so he could look at

Dalton. “Have I angered you?”

“I think if you had I’d be more inclined to want to punish you.”

Dalton sat on the bed across from Zig feeling very strange. “Last
night when we—I had total control over your pleasure. That excited
the hell out of me. It was like all my dreams of being some scary
badass were nothing compared to that.”

Surprisingly, Zig looked disappointed.
“Do you want me to hit you?”
“It wasn’t about hitting me. It was about…something else.”
“Me being in control.”
“Yes. But aggressively in control.” Zig blushed a bit but then

forcefully said, “I like the idea of you overpowering me.”

“Like this?” Dalton rose up and pushed Zig down on the bed. He

pinned his arms above his head then forced his legs apart with his
knee so he could settle between them.

“Yes.” Zig’s eyes were big, and his breath trembled.
“I think we can find a compromise.” Dalton kissed him hard,

thrusting his tongue into Zig’s mouth. When he struggled, Dalton held
his arms more firmly to the mattress. It seemed the more passionate
he was, the more Zig seemed to enjoy himself. Below him, Zig
squirmed and moaned. His pseudostruggle was arousing as hell.
Dalton felt powerful in a new and profoundly erotic way.

When he pressed their cocks together, Dalton discovered he could

thrust up against his amoram, making his golden king cry out with
ecstasy.

“Is it too much?”
“No. Please keep going. I feel that curious lightness slipping over

my body again.”

Dalton worked his hips faster, loving Zig’s squirming body and

his lusty cries. He wasn’t even inside him when he felt his balls
tightening, lifting, signaling that his orgasm was so very close. As he

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hit that precipice and tumbled over, Zig uttered a loud and lusty cry
that was followed by an astonishing release. Together, they’d made
quite a mess on Zig’s belly. White and pink strands of pleasure made
a rather beautiful decoration. Dalton opened his mouth to point this
out, but he suddenly went flying and darkness descended. The last
conscious thought Dalton had was that Zig was screaming, but not
from Dalton’s rough lovemaking. Zig was screaming from pure terror.

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Chapter 10

Zigog was utterly horrified. His guards had misinterpreted his

cries of bliss as calls for help. When they entered his room and saw
Dalton on top of him, they overreacted. In their haste to pull Dalton
off, they’d injured him. Terrified that they would only inflict more
damage on him, Zigog had ordered them to let him go. They had, but
they’d called for Zigog’s advisor. To his complete humiliation, he had
to explain to Ramir that Dalton had only been doing what Zigog
wanted him to do.

“You asked him to attack you?” Ramir seemed utterly perplexed.
As mortified as he was, Zigog knew he couldn’t be demure in

order to save face. If he wasn’t direct, he wouldn’t be able to get
treatment for Dalton. “I asked him to be aggressive with me.”

Ramir seemed to suddenly realize what had been going on. He

ordered medical personnel and then assisted Zigog in covering
himself up in his purple resting gown. While they tended to Dalton,
Zigog and Ramir moved aside to give them room.

“I thought my room was private.” Zigog did not know that his

guards were able to hear what he was doing inside. He was amazed
they hadn’t come in last night, but that was probably because he and
Dalton had been much more tentative with one another.

“It is, Zigog. It is private. But for your safety, Tanjin thought it

best that—”

“Tanjin thought?” Zigog was stunned. “What is he doing having

any say over my room or anything else for that matter?”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I thought—I was misinformed.”

Despite the purple dye on his face, Zigog felt that Ramir was flushed

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from embarrassment.

“You were the one who put that book on my bed.”
Ramir nodded but would not meet Zigog’s gaze.
“Did Tanjin give it to you?”
When Ramir seemed to sink a little lower, Zigog had his answer.

“He told you to put it there and to make sure everything was ready so
that he and I…” Rather than finish that thought, Zigog let it trail off
and die. They both knew exactly what Tanjin’s plans had been. Now
it was clear why he’d been so furious at the celebration. Tanjin must
have realized that everything he’d set up for himself would be used
with another. Worse, it was the very creature he’d given to the man he
was clearly obsessed with. Belatedly, Zigog realized that all the items
in the hygiene room next to his were blue, the color that Tanjin
favored.

“I do not want Tanjin.”
“I realize that now.” There was a strange note to Ramir’s voice

that Zigog couldn’t quite name. Not until he recalled how many times
Ramir seemed to pull Zigog away from any affection toward Tanjin.

“You want Tanjin.”
“No, Your Grace.” The denial sprang forth so quickly it had to be

a lie.

“Tell me the truth, Ramir. Not that you need to. I can see the

longing in your form.” As Zigog thought back, he realized the signs
had been there all along. Ramir wanted Tanjin, who wanted Zigog,
who wanted no one. Until he’d seen Dalton. His first spark of
temptation was for a man not even of his own world.

“The two of you were reared together.” Ramir struggled to speak

without emotion twisting his voice. He failed, but at least he was
trying. “It is only natural that Tanjin would become enamored of
you.”

“But not I for him. You saw to that.” Zigog wondered if he might

have come to be romantically interested in Tanjin if not for Ramir’s
subtle redirection. Zigog didn’t think so. Tanjin was more like a

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sibling than a lover. “It was you who kept me so woefully ignorant
about sexual relations.”

“I sought to protect you.”
“You tried to make me a sexless ruler who worked so much there

was no time for anything else.” Zigog realized how long and hard
he’d worked when he didn’t recall his father ever doing the same.
He’d only started questioning everything when Dalton had come.

“I wanted you to be a better ruler than your father. All he ever did

was take more people into his cluster.”

“I had no one! The only one who was even allowed to be

anywhere near me was one you wanted for yourself!” Zigog was
angry at Ramir, but more than that, he was frustrated. He didn’t think
he would have ever turned to Tanjin. That thought made him wonder
just how long the three of them would have remained locked in their
curious dance had Dalton not come to Vegoth. “All this time wasted
when all you had to do was be honest with me.”

“I was afraid.”
Zigog understood that. Had he not listened and struggled to

understand what Dalton had told him about his fears of becoming like
his parents, Zigog may not have grasped why Ramir was afraid. He
didn’t want to be seen as taking the man destined for the supreme
ruler.

“Will you have me punished?”
Rather than rush into a decision he might later regret, Zigog held

his tongue. He had learned such wise ways from the very man before
him. “I will deal with you later. Now I will see to Dalton.”

Ramir frowned.
“The Earthling. His name is Dalton.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not know.”
Belatedly, Zigog realized that Ramir had not lingered at the

celebration last night. Apparently, he’d set things up so that Tanjin
and Zigog could have their first joining, and then Ramir had gone to
his rooms to wallow in his misery. His gift had been stepping aside

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and allowing Zigog to have the man that he wanted for himself.

“I can forgive many things, Ramir. But I do expect

compensation.”

“I will give you all that I have if I can just keep my life.”
“Was my father that cruel?”
“He killed those who crossed him.”
“That explains why so few did.” Zigog had often compared

himself to his father and found himself lacking. But not anymore. His
father had been distant and preoccupied when he was near. Probably
he was consumed with running his empire, bedding all that he could,
and stomping out even the hint of rebellion. He had died from some
rapidly consuming illness that thrust his son onto the throne at a
tender age. Zigog did not want a life that was so narrow as his father’s
had been. “I would ask you to pursue Tanjin.”

“Your Grace?” Ramir looked frightened by the very idea.
“Tanjin and you would be the start of a powerful cluster. I give

you my blessing. But in return, I want there to be a new rule about the
nature of clusters. I wish to form one.”

“With the Earthling?” Ramir sounded surprised but not upset.
“Yes. And only with him.”
“Two?”
“It is a prime number.”
“So is one. But none forms a cluster with only one.”
“That is so, but mine will have me and another. Two is not one.”
“It is unheard of.”
“That may be.” Zigog stood. “But after I have done it, a cluster of

two will not be unheard of anymore.” He smiled down at his lifelong
advisor. “There is always a first time for everything.”

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Chapter 11

Dalton woke up in Zigog’s bed. For a moment, he thought he’d

only fallen asleep while they were having sex, but the throbbing
between his ears was so vicious he knew he’d been injured. The
question was how?

“Dalton?”
When he turned to the side, Zigog was there. He wasn’t wearing

his glitter or clothes. Dalton smiled. “If this is a dream, don’t wake
me up.”

“Why would you think it was a dream?”
“Because you’re naked. And I’m in bed. And in my mind there’s

cheesy porno music playing.”

“I do not know what that means, but I have a feeling it is

something involving sex.”

“How can you tell?”
“You are levitating the blankets.”
Dalton glanced down and discovered that whatever injury he had

suffered, it certainly hadn’t hurt his sex drive. “Want to kiss it and
make it better?”

Zig leaned over and kissed Dalton’s forehead.
“That wasn’t quite what I meant.”
“I know. But I think you need a little more recovery time.”
“What the hell happened?”
“My guards thought you were attacking me.”
“Oh.” That would explain how he’d gone from total bliss into

darkness. “They beat me up?”

“When they pulled you off of me, you were injured. They flung

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you into the table.” Zigog gently touched Dalton’s head. “Does it hurt
still?”

“I’ve got a headache of epic proportions.”
“They were reluctant to give you any chemicals because they

didn’t know how you would react to them.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Besides, it wasn’t the first time

he’d been hurt. A simple headache wasn’t going to kill him. The fact
he was able to get an erection seemed to indicate that. When he
reached up, he discovered a small bump on his noggin but no blood.
“Wait. Were they listening to what we were doing?”

Zigog nodded. “They are no longer doing so.”
“Why were they doing it in the first place?” Dalton thought that

was creepy as hell.

“Because Tanjin told them to.”
Before Dalton could verbally erupt, Zig went on. “Tanjin is not

the one who gave the order. My advisor, Ramir, did. He
thought…never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” Dalton realized that Zig was embarrassed about

the situation despite the fact he hadn’t known what was going on.

“Ramir has always liked Tanjin. Tanjin has always liked me. And

I haven’t liked anyone until I met you.”

“A lover’s triangle with one of the points going off into nowhere.”
“That wouldn’t make a triangle.”
“Right.”
“Tanjin thought that by gifting you to me, I would be so

impressed that I would suddenly see him differently. To that end, he
compelled Ramir to put the book in my bedroom.”

“Ah.” It was all starting to make sense. “Tanjin thought he would

be the one to read that with you.”

“Yes.”
“It must have just about killed your advisor to put the book in

here.”

“Ramir was devastated, but he loved Tanjin enough to let him go

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so that he could be with me.” Zigog looked away then back.

“What’s wrong?”
“I found out that Ramir has been working very diligently to

shelter me from all things sexual.”

“Why? Does he want to be with you and Tanjin in a cluster?”

Something inside Dalton broke at the very idea. He had discovered so
much about himself in such a short time, but no matter how much
happened to him on Vegoth, he was never going to let go of his
notion that he wanted to be in a couple, not a trio. Or more. He didn’t
care if it was a cultural thing or not. He’d never been into the idea of
sharing like that, and no matter what changes he experienced here, he
didn’t think that was going to be one of them.

“He wanted to form a cluster with Tanjin but not necessarily me.

To please Tanjin, who has wanted me for a very long time, Ramir
kept me away from all others. I think that must have been torture for
him. To keep pushing me together with the man he so desperately
wanted.”

Dalton felt sad for all of them. “Is that why you’ve been buried in

the very heart of the palace?”

“Buried?”
Dalton explained about the fake bathroom doors and that he

believed Zigog’s bedroom was at the very center of the structure.

Zigog examined the doors and shook his head. “I never noticed.”
“Why would you? You never had anyone in here, and of course

you’d only use your own bathroom.”

“How did you notice?”
“I’m an Earthling. If we’ve got a massive dose of anything, it’s

curiosity.” Dalton sat up, propping pillows behind his back with
Zigog’s help. “So what does all of this mean for you and me?”

When Zigog didn’t immediately answer, panic tried to filter in,

but Dalton held it off. He had to give Zig a chance. Things were
different here. He’d only known Zig for two days in terms of his time.
Dalton had no clue how long it had been in terms of Earth’s time.

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“It means that I’ve been caged up in more than just this room.”
“I don’t understand.”
“In an effort to keep me so busy I never had time to indulge

myself with Tanjin even if I was interested, Ramir kept me
excessively busy. The only time I had any time at all was for my
birthday celebrations.”

“You mean he was giving you tons of work that you didn’t really

need to do?”

“Yes. It kept me too busy to socialize. In that way, I remained

pure, which pleased Tanjin, which in turn pleased Ramir.”

“Oh, man. It’s like a fucked-up daisy chain.” Dalton waved off

explaining what that was. “It’s just really messed up.”

“It is. Or was. It will stop now.”
“Did you kill him?”
“What is it with this idea that a ruler kills anyone who displeases

him?” Zigog explained that Ramir had thought the same thing.

“I dunno.” Dalton considered. “I guess in all the stories I’ve read

that’s what the powerful guy does when he finds out he’s been
crossed.”

“He kills people?”
“Yeah.”
“And that makes everyone else afraid of him?”
“Yeah.”
“And does it not perhaps drive them to plot against the ruler and

kill him?”

“Well, yeah. That’s usually how that kind of story goes.”
“Which in turn makes the ruler more paranoid and therefore he

kills more of his people?”

“Okay, stop it. I get that it’s idiotic. You don’t have to rub my

nose in it.” Dalton laughed. “So what did you do?”

“I understood why Ramir had done what he’d done. Putting that

book in here must have almost killed him. When the guards reported
the sounds from within last night, he must have assumed it was me

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109

and Tanjin.”

“Geez. I’ll bet that hurt like a motherfucker.”
Zig recoiled. “Your culture must be very strange. Not only do you

encourage killing as a means of solving problems, you—”

“No, we don’t encourage people to fornicate with their mothers.

It’s an expression. A really bad one that I won’t use again.”

“That would be best.” Zig shook his head. “Where was I? You are

so very distracting.”

“So what’s the fallout to this twisted little lover’s triangle or

rectangle or whatever shape it is?” Dalton almost didn’t want to ask.
Despite the fact he still didn’t know Zig all that well, he knew him
enough to know he didn’t want to share him with anyone. It just
seemed unfair that he finally found someone he didn’t have to wear a
mask with, but now he had to contend with a completely different
culture. On the plus side, Zig’s world welcomed same-sex liaisons,
but they expected people to make at least a trio.

“What is fallout?”
“What does all this mean for me and you?”
Zig took Dalton’s hand in what could only be a calming gesture. It

was clear he was going to say something Dalton didn’t want to hear.
His whole body tensed up, which made his headache throb with new
life.

“Do you know that two is a prime number?”
“It—is.” Dalton felt hope edging out despair.
“It is indeed. And since it is a prime number and I have been so

grievously wronged by the man who was supposed to protect me, he
will argue before the court that I should be allowed to have such a
unique cluster with you.”

“So no one has ever had just two in their cluster?”
“No.” Zig smiled. “We shall be the very first.”
“And it doesn’t matter that I’m a slave?”
“You will not be a slave anymore if I claim you as a member of

my cluster.”

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“Oh, God.” A new and horrifying thought made Dalton sit up a

little straighter. “Will I be your queen?”

Zig made a face and tilted his head to the side. Clearly, the word

didn’t translate.

“Never mind. I think I’m just trying to be funny and I’m failing.”

Dalton looked down at their twined hands. “So you’re asking me to
marry you, huh?”

Another face and another head tilt prompted Dalton to add, “On

Earth, when two people like each other, they get married.”

“Ah.” Zig squeezed his hand. “Here on Vegoth we say that you

have found your cluster or are becoming part of a cluster.”

Dalton snickered.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just—when there’s a big group on Earth, we call it

a clusterfuck.”

That made Zig grin. He leaned closed and kissed Dalton very

softly on the mouth. “We can do all the clusterfucking you wish as
long as it’s only the two of us.”

“I like that idea.” Dalton tried to kiss Zig in return, but he insisted

he needed to rest. “Okay. Fine. But tell me. Is there a ceremony or
something to make our cluster all official?”

“You must part with one of your organs.”
Dalton’s jaw dropped.
“Now who is too serious?”
“Fuck!” Dalton yanked one of the pillows from behind his back

and threw it at Zig, who let go of his hand and darted away. “You
scared the shit out of me.”

“Please do not defecate in our bed. We have to sleep there.”
When Dalton ran out of pillows, he climbed out of bed and chased

Zig around the room. His shrieks were loud and tinged with laughter,
making Dalton laugh right along with him. To his surprise, he
realized his headache had disappeared. Eventually, he caught Zig and
dragged him back over to the mattress despite his struggles. This

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time, when he got him face down and ass up, he spanked him, but not
with any malice. He just wanted to make it clear who was in charge at
the moment. After half a dozen love taps he rolled him over and
discovered that his golden king was hard and his little pleasure pocket
was visibly quivering.

“Surrender,” Dalton demanded.
“No!”
“I will ply you with all kinds of tempting things.”
“Like what?”
Dalton knew he had him now. “I’m going to make you so crazy

you’ll beg me for release.”

“You’ve already done that.”
“So? Then you know what you’re in for, don’t you?” Dalton gave

him his most fearsome look. “Do you surrender?”

“I do not.”
“Then I have no choice but to punish you.” Dalton knelt on the

floor, pulling Zig’s hips off the top of the mattress. He then proceeded
to tongue fuck his pleasure pocket until his golden king was on the
verge of climax.

“Please.”
“Please what?” Dalton demanded between taunting licks.
“Get inside me.”
“When I’m ready.” Dalton waited until Zig was practically mad

with lust. He turned him over and paddled his butt until it was a soft
rosy red. Leaving him panting and breathless, Dalton got the lube and
then returned to the edge of the bed. Slowly, he slicked up his prick
and eased his way inside.

Zig struggled halfheartedly, but it was clear he really wasn’t

trying to get away, not with his fanny lifted up in the air like an
offering.

Sinking in with an amazing amount of restraint, Dalton felt his

control slipping away when Zig’s slap-warmed buttocks pressed
against his groin. Heat made him close his eyes, but when Zig

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clenched up around his cock, they flew open. To his utter surprise,
Zig started rocking himself back, fucking himself on Dalton’s prick.

Zig moved with a frantic need that caused his buns to quiver.

Dalton reached under him, grasped his cock, and gave him a channel
to fuck. Harder and faster Zig worked his hips while Dalton simply
struggled to hold on. When he couldn’t take anymore, he tightened
his fist, pushed his hips forward, and pinned Zig to the edge of the
bed while the most exquisite orgasm he’d ever had practically blinded
him. After a second, Zig joined him, making a final thrust into his fist
as he climaxed.

Panting, they slumped down to the floor, where Dalton held Zig

tightly to his chest. He’d been scared to death to walk through the
Eoean doorway and meet his fate, but now he couldn’t believe his
stroke of good luck. He’d lost his mask, which made him acutely
vulnerable, but he was with a man who would always accept him for
who he was. As Dalton kissed Zig’s neck and shoulder, he swore he
would do the same for his golden king.

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Chapter 12

“And that’s all there is?”
“That’s all there is.” Zig realized Dalton had expected something

much more elaborate.

“For such a complicated culture, you’ve made the process of

forming a cluster ridiculously simple.”

“What did you expect?”
“I dunno. Fanfare. A parade. Dancing bears or something crazy.”
“I do not know what a bear is.”
“It’s an animal.”
“Why would it dance over the fact we were forming a cluster?”
“Never mind. Don’t bring logic into my fantasy.” Dalton

considered the simple crystal. “So I cut my thumb and smear the
blood on there, then you do the same, and that’s it?”

“Yes. That’s it.” Zigog handed the now-bloody crystal to Ramir.
“Does it do anything?”
“Like what? Dance?”
“Smart-ass.” Dalton laughed as he watched Ramir place the

crystal along the long line of them against the wall. “Whoa. Just how
many of these things are there?”

“It goes back to the time of the first supreme ruler.”
“So each time a ruler brings someone into his cluster, he does this

blood-smearing thing on a crystal?”

“Yes. It’s a way of marking the occasion.”
“And keeping a record of everyone’s DNA.”
Zigog didn’t know what that was, but when Dalton explained, he

realized his culture had a similar understanding of the very structure

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of life, they simply called it something else.

“So what do we do now?” Dalton asked.
Zigog smiled as he took his hand. “I say we should exchange

more bodily fluids.”

“Swapping spit, huh?”
It took Zigog a moment to realize he was talking about kissing.

“Yes. That would be good, but there are far more intimate
exchanges.”

“I suppose now that you’ve claimed me I’ll have to put out or get

out.” Dalton sighed very dramatically. “A queen’s work is never
done.”

“I wish you would not call yourself my queen. Once you

explained it to me, I told you that I did not see you that way at all.”

“Sorry. I was trying to be funny.”
“You are a very strange creature.”
“This from the man who quite literally does everything by prime

numbers. Yeah. I’m the weirdo.”

“I think I should take you back to my room and reprimand you.”

Zigog flashed Dalton a knowing look that he echoed. It was Zig’s
way of telling Dalton he wanted him to be aggressive with him.
Dalton had confessed that he loved taking charge of him and
punishing him with intense pleasure, a penalty that Zig began to crave
more and more often. In public, Dalton was strong and not at all
submissive, but he deferred to Zigog as his supreme ruler. Only when
they were alone did Dalton allow his more aggressive tendencies to
come out. Just as Zigog felt safe allowing himself to be submissive.

Tanjin had not been happy that his gift had given him the exact

opposite of what he wanted. Zigog reminded Tanjin about what Ramir
had done for him. “Ramir loved you enough to let you be with me. I
am asking you to do the same. If you honestly love me, let me be with
Dalton.” Rather than answer, Tanjin withdrew for a time. Dalton
feared Tanjin would retaliate against him, but apparently Tanjin
simply needed time to consider what Zigog had said. Ultimately,

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Tanjin realized that he couldn’t force Zigog to love him. And when he
was even more honest with himself, Tanjin realized they were simply
not well suited to one another. To help lessen his shame, Zigog repaid
him for what he’d spent buying Dalton. Tanjin rejected the offer
initially, but then agreed so that he could pursue another.

“I do love you, you know.” Tanjin had come to Zigog to clarify

their situation. “But I realize now it is not the kind of love that you
have for Dalton.”

“I do love you, too, in that very same way,” Zigog said.
Dalton was reassured, especially when he realized he’d had the

same type of feelings for his friend, Hunter. “It’s like love but not
romantic love. Not quite brotherly love, either.”

“Clearly, we need more words for that emotion.”
“Absolutely. Let’s take off our clothes and get to work on that.”
“I can’t think when you’re naked.”
“Really? Well, I’ll have to run around nude so I can take

advantage of that fact.”

Zigog had laughed, Dalton had kept his clothing on, and they had

no new words for love, but they certainly had a greater understanding
of the multiple dimensions of the emotion.

Ramir was too shy to pursue Tanjin, so Zigog arranged for them

to work together. All it took was a little nudge here and a minor push
there to make the two men realize they were extremely compatible.
Zigog’s understanding was that they were pursuing a third, a woman,
so that they could have children together.

Once Ramir no longer had any reason to try to protect Zigog from

temptation, Zigog found he had more free time to pursue a variety of
interests. After learning all he could about sexual congress, something
Dalton had an almost endless fascination for, they moved on to other
topics. They also moved out of the protected cell at the center of the
palace. Their new suite of rooms had a sweeping view of the city and
plenty of balconies so Dalton didn’t feel confined.

There were other changes, too, especially when word went around

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the court about his unique cluster of two. Some were against the
notion on principle, but Ramir argued strenuously and well in favor of
the union. His most powerful argument was that two was a prime
number. Oddly, one of the other situations that came out of the new
twist to the age-old notion of clusters was the idea that one was also
prime. Those who did not wish to be part of a cluster were less likely
to be ostracized. It seemed to Zigog that change may not always be
welcomed, but for a culture to survive and thrive, change was a
necessity.

“So have you given my suggestion any more thought?” Dalton

entered their room first and started stripping off his clothing before
Zigog even had the door closed.

“I do not know if I’m ready.”
“It’s just to see if the rumors are true.”
“My understanding is there has to be a very deep connection.

They don’t call it soul resonance because it’s all about lust.”

Dalton stopped in prying apart the one hundred twenty-seven

buttons on his outfit. Unlike the rest of the court, he didn’t dye his
hair or his face, but he was willing to wear clothing that put him at the
very height of fashion.

“Are you saying that this between us is only about lust?”
“No.” Zigog moved until he was near enough to pick up where

Dalton had left off with the buttons on his jacket. “I do love you. You
know that.”

“I do. And you know that I love you, right?”
“Yes.” Zigog had only to look into Dalton’s eyes and he could

practically see the love he felt for him shining there.

“Then what’s the problem with trying it out?”
“Isn’t it enough we found one another? Why push?”
“Because it would be cool as hell if it were true.”
“Immortality and magical powers?” Zigog shook his head. “From

what the scholars tell me, your aging has slowed down to match that
of the average Vegoth.”

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“That test was done quite a while ago. I want to do another. And I

want you to try again.”

Zigog stopped with the buttons and sighed.
“Please.”
“Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t, but I think if you were honest it matters a hell of a lot

more to you than you’re willing to admit.” Dalton grasped Zigog’s
hands, lifted them, then kissed each fingertip. When he performed that
simple gesture, Zigog swore he felt the press of his lips against his
amoram. It made him weak in the knees and utterly suggestible to
anything Dalton wanted.

“I already know one thing I can lift with the power of my mind.”
“My cock doesn’t count.”
“Fine.” Zigog popped more buttons while Dalton did the same.

“But I need to be in a relaxed state of mind.”

“Oh, now that I can help you with.”
As soon as they got out of their clothing, Dalton tossed Zigog on

the bed and took charge of him before he could even strip the dye off
his face and hair. After making him crazy with longing, Dalton gave
him a powerful release, followed by one for himself. Content and
utterly relaxed, Zigog focused on the small golden ball that Dalton put
on the foot of the bed.

So far all he’d been able to do was make it quiver ever so slightly,

and today wasn’t any different.

“I’m sure it wasn’t even real when I was younger. You know how

we distort the memories of our youth.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Zig. I’ve talked to other members of the

court, and a lot of them remember having latent abilities that got lost
in the shuffle. I think it’s like one of those things that if you don’t use
it you lose it.”

“If the rumors about Earthlings bestowing magical abilities

through soul resonance were true, then I would have the ability back
by now.”

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“Maybe it’s not like something I just give you. Maybe you have to

work for it.”

“Maybe I’m afraid.”
Dalton rolled over so that they were face-to-face. “Afraid?”
“What if I do try and I can’t? Does that mean that we really aren’t

in love?”

“Oh, Zig.” Dalton pulled him to his side, cradling him so tightly

he felt crushed. “I love you. I’m crazy in love with you. And I know
you are with me. If this is that kind of torment for you, then never
mind.”

Zig clung to Dalton’s shoulders, loving his strength and the way

he accepted without judging. Comforting slowly turned to seduction,
and then Dalton was above him, his touches tender but powerful.
They rose only to eat and clean up, and then they were back in bed.

Each night, Zigog tried to move the golden ball. He did this

without making Dalton aware of what he was doing, but he felt
Dalton knew. Still, Dalton didn’t pressure him. If it would happen it
would. But Zigog couldn’t help but feel that their love wasn’t true if
he couldn’t regain the power he’d had long ago. As much as he told
himself he was placing too much belief in the outrageous claims
about Earthlings, there was still a part of Zigog that believed the fault
lay with himself.

Zigog feared he didn’t love Dalton enough.
Despite the fact he struggled to let that ridiculous thought go, he

simply couldn’t. Dalton didn’t know he felt that way because Zigog
refused to tell him. But the longer he struggled to make his latent
telekinesis become more powerful and failed, the more he became
convinced there was something wrong with the depth of his love for
Dalton.

When he returned one night and discovered that the golden ball

was gone, he looked for it without trying to be obvious.

“I threw it away.” Dalton was on the bed. One long leg was

draped over the edge while the other was bent on top of the mattress.

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Without seeming to be aware, Dalton had placed himself in a
complicated fractal pose.

“Why did you throw it away?”
“Because all you do is glare at it and think there’s something

wrong with our relationship.” Dalton closed the book he’d been
poring over and stood. He was bare. Zigog loved the way he moved
so casually when he was nude. Now that Vegoth had shifted in her
complicated orbit yet again, heat had come to the prime city.

“That’s not what I’ve been doing.”
“Yes. It is.” Dalton pulled Zigog into his arms and kissed his

head. “I want you to stop torturing yourself. I wish to God I’d never
brought it up.”

Ultimately, Zigog had let go of his need to reclaim his old ability.

But somehow, the idea that he wasn’t as fully in love with Dalton as
he could be haunted him. All that changed the night of his birthday.

Due to the complicated orbit of his planet around dual suns,

tracking time on Vegoth was enormously complex. Still, he knew
when the time came round again because Ramir and Tanjin were
working diligently to make the celebration even more spectacular
than it had been before. Zigog sensed that part of their fervor was due
to what had happened the last time, but he understood and allowed
them to do as they pleased.

The main room was decorated even more excessively than ever,

and Zigog made a grand entrance. But Dalton wasn’t in attendance.
Zigog worried that he had been put off by the excess, but then he saw
the golden cage hanging high above. He realized that Ramir and
Tanjin had wanted to repeat the success of the prior celebration. How
they’d gotten Dalton back in the cage was a mystery. Still, he was
willing to go along because he did so enjoy being the center of
attention despite the fact he knew Dalton would upstage him just as
he had before.

Zigog didn’t mind.
Finally, after a long battle with himself, he realized there was

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nothing wrong with the depth of his love for Dalton. The only person
who had ever questioned his intensity was himself. Dalton believed in
Zigog with a fierceness that was a little scary and a whole lot of
wonderful.

Just as they had at the last celebration, Zigog entered late and

strode to his throne. The only difference this time was that he was
fully dressed. It was a clear sign that he wasn’t interested in adding
more to his cluster. Zigog was happy to be with Dalton. They needed
no other. When he settled upon his throne and called for his gifts, he
took the time to honestly appreciate everything he was given.

And then the golden cage was lowered from the ceiling.
Zigog’s heart pounded as he waited for the reveal of his chosen.

Would Dalton be fully dressed or bare? Since Dalton knew what
being mostly bare signified—the desire to attract additional partners
to their cluster—Zigog was certain he would be dressed. However,
there was a part of him that wouldn’t be surprised to find Dalton
dressed just as he had been at the last celebration. Dalton seemed to
take endless delight defying the standard conventions.

As the golden cage slowly lowered, Zigog’s heart raced.

Anticipation pushed him to the edge of his throne. At the periphery of
his awareness, the members of his court also seemed to hold their
breath. All gazes were riveted with curiosity and expectation.

When the first chain snapped, Zigog shot to his feet. A scream

was trapped in his chest, unable to be set free because he suddenly
had no breath. However, members of his court screamed, filling in
where he was silent. Another chain snapped, tumbling the cage to the
side, showing that Dalton was inside. He was dressed exactly as he
had been during the last celebration, but the shifting cage had
slammed him against the bars, knocking him unconscious.

Another burst of terror from the crowd made Zigog desperate to

do something, but what could he do? The cage was so far above the
stone floor. There were two more chains—another snapped,
prompting several courtiers to collapse from shock.

Bound by Temptation

121

And then something sparked in Zigog. He would not stand idly by

and watch the man he loved plunge to his death. Summoning every
shred of desire he had, Zigog focused on the cage and imagined a
massive hand reach out and cradle it. When the final chain broke, the
cage didn’t fall. Zigog held it in his invisible hand, gently bringing it
down to the floor where he released his mental hold.

He ran to the cage and yanked the door open. Dalton was pressed

against the bars, his eyes blinking, his confusion obvious. Rushing to
his side, Zigog dropped to his knees and pulled him into his arms. His
relief was so great he burst into tears. And then Dalton was holding
on to him, kissing him, thanking him, and all Zigog could do was
realize the profound depth of his love.

122

Anitra Lynn McLeod

Epilogue

“Okay, enough!” Dalton shoved his robe back down. “Stop

levitating all my clothes.”

“You wanted me to embrace my abilities.”
“Well, yeah.”
“You believed in me so much you rigged the cage to fall.”
“Yes, but—”
“You can’t get upset now that I’m a fully functioning telekinetic

creature.”

“Had I known you were going to use your abilities for such pervy

things as exposing my junk every chance you got, I never would have
devised such a dangerous stunt.” Dalton held the front of his robe
down with his right hand while he pulled Zig close with his left. “You
realize that now I’ll have to punish you?”

“And you seem to think that wasn’t my goal all along?” Zig

flashed him a grin that made his need for a strong hand perfectly
clear.

“Have I told you today that I love you?”
“You have.” Zig leaned up and stole a smooch. “But now I want

you to show me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, my golden king.”
“Oh, I know full well what surrendering to you means, my

tempting Earthling.”

Dalton knew his scheme to make Zig embrace his abilities could

have very well ended with him crashing into the floor, but he’d
trusted that all Zig needed was a major push. He was right. Zig had
been furious, but eventually, he forgave him, and now they were

Bound by Temptation

123

closer than ever. As Dalton pressed Zig’s arms into the mattress and
rose over his luscious form, he whispered the truth softly into his ears.

“I love you.”
Zig stopped his halfhearted struggle to look up at him. “I love

you. As crazy as you are, you have never failed to trust your belief in
me.”

“And I never will.” Dalton took his time tormenting his golden

king. When he had him panting and thrashing, he finally completed
their union. Together, they breathed a sigh of relief, then got to work
making one another surrender to temptation.

THE END

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things

Anitra Lynn McLeod enjoys the most. You can visit her at
www.AnitraMcLeod.com.

For all titles by Anitra Lynn McLeod, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/anitra-lynn-mcleod

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com