Hidden Depths (40 page)

If he’d been royal and Ciran had been his mate, he’d have been spurting kith by then. Saliva contained triggering hormones to draw the aphrodisiac substance free.

“Wetter,” Hattori urged, his head arching back as his hips rocked forward.

Ciran widened his jaw and took him, but the change didn’t help. “Shit. I don’t think I can come.”

Ciran released him, resting his brow on Hattori’s hip. “Your balls are pulsing,” he said, his fingers still working them. “They feel to me like you can.” The growling noise Kat had heard before rumbled in Hattori’s throat. “Fuck Muto Feng. Fuck him and his experiments.”

Kat didn’t know what any of this had to do with the ruling prince of the House of Feng - not that she was going to ask.

“Shh,” Ciran soothed, kissing Hattori’s shaft - a futile bid for comfort, if ever there were one. His cock had already received too much stimulation. At this point, its skin was so red it glowed.

Unable to resist, Hattori steered the swollen head back between the lips that tormented it. He swallowed a groan as Ciran swallowed him.

“Fate take it,” he swore. “I don’t want you to stop.” Ciran didn’t want to stop either. He sucked him inward fearlessly, sounding as if he were getting him as wet as he could. Ciran was making soft eager noises, his bobbing motions impressively loose and swift. His ease could only be the result of a lot of practice. Imagining how he’d gotten it, Kat pressed trembling thighs together. To her, watching Ciran give such skillful head to his friend was incredibly erotic.

The skin of Hattori’s penis shone with spit each time it pulled free of Ciran’s lips, its shaft swelling strangely thicker in the middle - not just from the veins but the flesh itself. The organ looked like it was ready to burst and Hattori like he very much wished it would. He’d been watching Ciran work, the way most males would, but his eyes now screwed shut in agony. Kat was so caught up in their drama, she’d begun to hold her breath.

Her lungs let it out again without warning, and both men froze at the sound.

“Shit,” Hattori said, catching sight of her first.

Ciran let go of him and turned. “Princess ...”

“I’m sorry,” she said, retreating with her face aflame. “I shouldn’t have spied on you.”

Hattori moved so fast she let out a very unYamish shriek.

Before she could stop him, he had her by the wrists, pinned back against the wall just outside the bedroom. Every inch of his violently aroused body blazed heat at her.

“I won’t tell,” she promised, squirming under his weight. He hadn’t yanked his pants up, and his cock remained bare. Considering how wound up he was, she guessed he couldn’t help grinding against her. Even through her robe, she could feel his prick hadn’t shrunk any. Between that and her voyeurism, she was embarrassingly wet. “I know it’s none of my business!”

“Do you even know what you stuck your nose in?” Hattori demanded.

That forced her addled mind to think. He didn’t mean having sex with a fellow guard. Fraternizing might be considered unmanly in some quarters, but it wasn’t against the law.

“Your genes,” she burst out. “Someone spliced royal genes in you.”

“And she guesses it in one,” Ciran observed drolly.

This was more problematic. Their culture’s survival depended on the social strata staying distinct. Guards were selectively bred, and that included genetic adjustment. Giving them upper class traits, however, was prohibited. Commoners weren’t even supposed to know what upper class traits were. Knowledge was power, and daimyo preferred to reserve that for themselves. On the other hand, what top-ranked royal thought he had to obey the rules? A prince like Muto Feng wouldn’t think twice about experimenting for his own benefit.

Then a new thought occurred to her. If Hattori had royal genes, something more than strong attraction might be unfolding here.

“Are you going into heat?” she asked curiously.

Hattori’s fingers tightened on her wrists. “Halfway there,” he growled, apparently familiar with the term. “Just enough to bung up my normal responses.”

“You’re responding to me,” she deduced. “I triggered this reaction.” Hattori blew out his breath on a sigh. He released her wrists a moment later, though he didn’t move otherwise. Maybe his body wouldn’t allow him to. He braced his palms on the wall instead, doing a kind of arrested push up in front of her. He was looking down at her breasts, at the tightened thrust of her nipples against the silk bathrobe. Despite the evidence of her interest, he didn’t press closer.

“I know you didn’t mean to wind me up, princess.” His eyes rose to hers and held there, the expanded black of his pupils nearly swallowing his irises. Staring back at him, Kat felt unexpectedly shy. He was just a man then, not her inferior.

“Could I help?” she asked, trying to control her flinch when his body jerked.

“Obviously Ciran has some genes that yours are fond of, but maybe his profile isn’t close enough.”

Hattori gawked at her for a moment. “You want to help me get off?”

“Some people would say I owe you.”

Hattori shook his head firmly. “Saving you was my job.” Kat swallowed, her tongue curling out nervously. Hattori’s eyes darkened at the sight of her lamril. He looked like a prince with his gaze gone so close to black. The thinnest rim of silver was all that circled his pupils.

“Admit you want him,” Ciran advised. “He won’t accept your offer unless you do.”

He seemed calm - watchful maybe but not like the thought of her wanting his friend bothered him. The mystery intrigued her. Who were these men? What were they to each other?

“I do want him,” she acknowledged, though she blushed for the confession.

She looked back at Hattori. “It’s like you said. Everything about you does it for me.”

He moved as if afraid to scare her, one big hand coming up to conform itself to her cheek. His thumb smoothed her eyebrow around its arch. Simple thought it was, the contact tingled powerfully through her skin. “I doubt I’ll be what you’re used to.”

“Who says what I’m used to is what I want?”

His lips curved slightly. “Would you let Ciran join us?”

“I don’t need to -”

“Yes,” Hattori said, cutting off his friend’s demur. “You know you like it when we share a woman. I’d like you to share this one, if she’s agreeable.” Kat would have felt shut out if Hattori’s hips hadn’t settled on hers just then.

His bent knees evened out their heights, pushing between her thighs to brace his weight on the wall. He rolled his pelvis to her, the motion luscious and arousing as it squeezed the living heat of his erection into her mound. He sighed with pleasure and she did too. He felt so good it took a moment for her brain to turn over. When she spoke, her voice was husky.

“You and Ciran have been together a while.”

Hattori was dragging his smooth-shaven cheek up and down her neck.

“Fifteen years. Since we were assigned to the same dorm room at the Feng palace.

Ciran’s talents saved my sanity more than once.” He turned his head to lick a bead of sweat from her collarbone. The wetness of his tongue shook her knees. Fearing she’d lose her balance, Kat clutched his broad shoulders. “He’s very fond of you.”

Hattori hummed his agreement against the crook of her neck, then stiffened and drew back. “He likes women too, Kat. You don’t have to worry about that.” His hands slid to her waist as if he couldn’t stop touching her. Kat realized this was the first time he’d used her name.

“It’s true,” Ciran said from closer than she expected. “I guess you could say I’m omnivorous.”

Hattori’s diminishing self control cut short the debate. No permission beyond a lack of protest would be required from her. Abruptly breathing harder, he tugged the tie of her robe loose. When her front was bared, he took half a step back to look at her. Kat knew she was pretty, maybe even prettier than most. Her breasts were high and pointed, her limbs graceful and firm. When Hattori’s gaze ran over her curves, she truly felt beautiful. She let the robe drop from her shoulders.

“Princess,” he said, her title a word of praise.

He surprised her. He reached for one small breast with two hands, molding it higher as his thumbs rolled its painfully tight nipple. Ciran stepped next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and began doing the same thing. They were one person in their dexterity. Both were hard, both gentle, both blessed with the swordfighters’

calluses she’d dreamed of touching her. Kat’s nerves took about two seconds to overload. She cried out as the men bent to kiss her nipples. Their lips molded around her, their tongues flicking the aching nubs in identical rhythms. The simple sight of their hair mingling together made cream run from her body.

This was a fantasy she hadn’t known she harbored. She wanted to memorize every detail to replay later, but the myriad pleasures were too much for her blurring brain. Their strong hands held her as she began to thrash.

“I can scent her,” Ciran gasped against her breast. “She smells of lilacs and cinnamon.”

Hattori moaned at the reminder of what he already knew. “Lift her for me,” he said, his voice almost too thick to decipher. “I need to take her now.” His eyes were completely black, his muscles shaking with a fine tremor. Kat was shaking too but not as subtly. She was so ready to be ravished she needed new words for it.

“Step forward, princess,” Ciran instructed.

She stepped and the second man moved behind her, between her and the wall.

Hattori uttered a longing sound. Plainly, this was a scenario he enjoyed playing out.

“Twine your arms around his neck,” came Ciran’s quiet instruction.

Kat complied, then jerked as Ciran’s hands took a firm grip on her rear end.

His skin was almost as hot as Hattori’s. “His clothes ...”

“We don’t have time to take them off. It’s enough that you’re naked.” Was this true, or was it part of the men’s mutual fantasy? Kat didn’t have breath to ask. Ciran was lifting her and so was Hattori, his hard hands gripping her thighs to spread them around his hips. He was narrow here compared to his shoulders, but wide enough to stretch her groin muscles. She twitched as his juddering length met the wet pulsing of her folds. Her sex was smooth, as was the fashion, and the slide of those satiny surfaces against each other made her spine dissolve. Hattori’s breath rushed out of his lungs loudly.

“I’ve never done this before,” she blurted. “I’ve never taken a man in heat. No male ever spilled in me.”

Hattori’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Like most of his gender, he liked staking claims. “I’m going to flood you,” he rasped. “If the Fates allow it, I’m going to drown you in seed.”

She was going to drown him herself. Pressed tight behind her, Ciran reached between them to shift his friend’s rigid cock to the right angle. Hattori shuddered as the flaring head found her drenched entry.

“You burn,” he breathed and began pushing.

Kat hissed at the instant bliss of his penetration. Ciran added his strength from behind. Like Hattori, he’d shoved his trousers under his cock, his shaft and balls squashed against the curve of her ass. Though he wasn’t as big as his partner, his blood beat faster. Maybe it was fickle to enjoy that, but Kat couldn’t help herself.

Despite the assistance she was receiving, getting Hattori in her wasn’t easy.

He was very thick and there was a lot of him to engulf. His breath whined out when he was halfway, sweat rolling like liquid diamonds down his temples.

“I can’t,” he said, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “I’m trying to make myself smaller, but I just can’t.”

Most Yamish males could contract or expand their erections at least somewhat. This was under normal circumstances, though. No sensible royal female expected her partner to constrict himself when he was in heat. Instincts more powerful than he was didn’t allow for that.

Feeling for him, Kat stroked the side of his worried face. “Don’t try. Just go as far as you can.”

“I want all of you, Kat. I want my cock all the way inside.” His guttural admission almost made her smile. She pressed her lips to the strawberry mark that was supposed to mar him, then brushed her mouth softly over his. A small, resonant sound broke inside his chest. To Yama, kissing was more intimate than sex. Married couples didn’t always do it, but Kat wanted to with him. She licked his lips with her lamril, causing them to tremble and part for her.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Oh please, yes.”

Their mouths sank into each other, tongues reaching deep and stroking, the fit immediate and welcome. Kat’s arms wound tighter behind his neck. Doing this felt illogically right to her. He tasted like some sweet tangy wine she’d been waiting all her life to drink. They hummed their pleasure into each other’s throats.

Perhaps sensing her relaxing, Hattori gathered his muscles and thrust his hips at her. Ciran did as well, his mouth open on her shoulder. Their coordinated efforts gained Hattori another inch into her.

“Fate,” Hattori moaned, drawing his tongue out only to push in and suck again. “Oh princess, you’re paradise.”

His hands ran over her body, as if he wanted to memorize her. His rocking thrusts continued, gradually working him deeper. His movements weren’t hard, but they were getting harder, so she supposed the female essences in her cream were having an effect. Neither he nor Ciran seemed to mind bumping each other’s hands as they caressed her. She could tell the inadvertent touches excited them, and their excitement excited her. Ciran only hesitated when his big hard palm fanned her flat belly. His fingertips were inches from where his friend entered her.

Sensing it wasn’t her the guard hesitated to reach for, Kat drew one hand down from Hattori’s neck. She smoothed her fingers over Ciran’s.

“Ring him,” she said. “Rub his cock where he can’t shove it inside of me.” Ciran did it. Both men must have enjoyed this, because the pressure of the big hot bodies on either side of her increased.

“Shit,” Hattori hissed.

Ciran had taken her suggestion one better. He was twisting his thumb and two fingers around the base of his friend’s erection, as if it were a jar in dire need of unsealing. The men found this game as thrilling as she did. Hattori heaved at her, groaned, then set his feet and did it again.