AnK - Black Moon Rising

Black Moon Rising

By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko

Edited by: Ainzfern

Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze

Rating: Mature – Adult Content

Parts: WIP – 14 of 25

Reviews are fuel.

"For Hespera…*GRIN*."

Chapter 14 of 25 – Kissed By Nature (Post OVA)

~~~BMR~~~


Katze leaned heavily against the door, ignoring the thrum of his heart and the sudden rising warmth and tension within his loins. The question merited no reply and would only add fuel to Raoul’s fire.

The dealer shook his head and sighed. It was almost amusing the irony of the situation. Either way he was fucked. He had two choices; accept and find a way to enjoy it or rebel and incur the wrath of the mercurial Blondie.

“I need a smoke. May I, Sir Am?”

Raoul quirked a brow, giving the request considered thought, before beneficently inclining his head a fraction. “Correct me if I am wrong, but shouldn’t you be indulging in that reprehensible habit of yours following and you still haven’t answered my question?”

The dealer was thankful for the serpentine fingers of smoke which offered the illusion of privacy as his eyes narrowed speculatively, drinking in shadowed form within his bed, sheets lovingly caressing a truly magnificent specimen.

“No, I haven’t fucked him…yet, Sir Am.” He was perfect alright, but in no way angelic, not with that between his legs.


Raoul’s gaze grew smug following the trajectory of those exotically tilted eyes in their secretive caress. What was the cunning little creature thinking about, aside from the obvious?

Katze blushed and self-consciously feathered his bang with pained fingers. The mongrel winced, suppressing a groan. How long had he been staring?

“Come here, Katze. I wish to look at that hand.”

The dealer’s hackles rose. Raoul was almost purring - never a good sign.

Uttering a long suffering sigh, the Elite beckoned the dealer once more and patted the bedding lovingly. “I’m feeling inordinately tolerant tonight, if you haven’t noticed? Come here.”

“Free champagne will do that…Sir Am.” Katze murmured diffidently, stilling his progress, observing for the first time the tray of appetizers alongside the nightstand and the as yet unopened magnum left in the bucket of ice. It seemed that Kato was feeling generous tonight.

Raoul chuckled softly and eyed the bucket. “Delightful vintage, Katze, no doubt spillage from an interstellar carrier, these things do happen?”

Instinctively the dealer froze by the foot of the bed, noting the growing tension in Raoul’s shoulders and the flex of powerful bicep muscles beneath glowing alabaster skin that belied the soothing baritone. Katze shivered involuntarily as he looked into cold, bottle green that held a predatory gleam, akin to a serpent about to strike.

“I will over-look your not so veiled attempt at asserting a spine. Come here now!”

“Why?”

Sheets were quickly discarded as the towering male rose to his full imposing height and lunged at his prey with unerring accuracy of movement. No time for retreat as taut muscles coiled dangerously about his slender neck in answer. The warm supple skin of Raoul’s forearm tightened, adding pressure to his clavicles.

“Fuck!” Katze hissed, sinking to his knees in pain. Raoul’s hot breath ghosted across his cheek, sending a shiver through him.

“Ooooooh not …yet, the night is young.” Raoul whispered softly into his ear, splaying the fingers in front of Katze’s face and deliberately rotated his wrist counter clockwise.

White hot pain darkened the mongrel’s vision as he began to pant.

“Yeeeeeeees, definitely a sprain,” Raoul purred maliciously releasing the long fingered hand, well pleased as Katze crumpled to the floor in agony. “Get undressed.”


The wretched creature was slowly uncurling from the tight ball of pain to stand unsteadily with bowed head, nerveless fingers clumsily undoing the shirt, while his arm hung limply at his side.

Raoul wondered absently if the arm had been dislocated in their little tussle. He had heard a pop, but had thought nothing of it at the time.

I’ll see to the bottle,” Raoul added with what he felt was magnanimity, under the circumstances. Katze was barely managing the shirt. “Do you need help?”

Katze gritted his teeth in pain. “No…Sir Am.”

This was how it was meant to be. A modicum of discipline always garnered the right results as was evidenced by the redhead’s sudden shift to quiescent acceptance, dutifully awaiting his every behest.

Iason was quite wrong.

Sleepy green eyes smiled benignly down at the wretched creature currently making a hash of removing the soft shirt from the limp arm. Sighing tolerantly, Raoul popped the cork and generously filled the untouched flute, refilling his own.

“Katze?”

Amber eyes fogged with pain looked up nervously into querulous, suddenly benevolent emerald green. “Yes, Sir Am?”

“Come here, little one. You appear to be having difficulties.”

The redhead closed his eyes, hating his fate. Iason had nothing on Raoul when it came to slow torture. “My arm is dislocated, Sir Am. Allow me to put it back in.”

Raoul shook his head. They were so fragile. Still, the soft well modulated tone of voice was most gratifying and it did wonders for his mood. Just this once he would humor the creature.

~~~BMR~~~


“I have no need of sustenance at this time.”

Admon’s steely otherworldly gaze could be disconcerting at the best of times, Kato quietly considered, placing his dinner tray resolutely upon his folded lap. “Master Katze insists as do I.”

It was far easier to thank the well meaning servant and be done with it. “Thank you, Mr. Kato. Good Night.”
The portly servant adjusted his nighttime smock, unsure as to whether to stay or leave and watch Admon eat. The Master asked so little of him, other than tending about his personal care and now Admon’s.

Kato smiled secretively pleased with what this could mean for his Master. Perhaps, just perhaps the dealer was considering a Pairing Partnership of sorts at long last.

Admon grimaced, clutching the shoulder of his right arm, spilling the tray.

“See, what you have done? Now I have to clean this up before bed. Admon, Admon, Admon, Master Katze will not be pleased, this is some of his best china.”

“BE SILENT! Your incessant chatter irritates! GET OUT!” Admon snarled, chasing the frightened little man from the room and reengaging the security lock with a relieved sigh.

Closing his eyes, Admon sank to the floor and refocused his attention. He had to, if he was to be of any use to his Master this night.

Trust was a hard won thing, particularly in the area of touch. Admon knew this, but how to get through to two difficult entities bound and determined to preventing that most deeply sought by both.


~~~BMR~~~

A flaw in his physical makeup to be sure, but who expected to be pinned and injured just for sport by one who had inherently superior strength?

Katze’s face was drawn and tense, paler than usual as he looked at his reflection above the bathroom sink. The pain was tangible, and almost preferable to what awaited him in the bedroom. Jupiter, he had never needed Donovan’s strength more.

Donovan always managed to put the fucker back into its socket on the first try, but he couldn’t ask and put his No.1 at risk. This was his problem. He would have to do it himself, using the cold shower stall.

With luck, when he re-entered the room the bastard would be fast asleep and none the wiser of the physical forbearance it would take to do so, unaided. No fucking way he was going to give Raoul the satisfaction and be beholden to his tormentor.

Every movement brought with it white hot pain. The wrist was the least of his worries.
Katze bit his lower lip, shifting his focus as best he could and entered the stall with determination, the salty, metallic taste of his own blood on his tongue, a reminder of what was at stake. If he failed to please the Elite, by keeping him waiting, who knows what would come of the night.

“Why the fuck doesn’t he just kill me, and put us both out of my misery,” Katze murmured distantly, resting his good shoulder against the wall taking another deep breath and steadying his mind. Raising the limp arm by painful increments, cradling it against his chest he moaned quietly.

“Where would the fun be in that, little one?” Raoul queried pleasantly, leaning against the bathroom door, one long fingered hand holding both glasses of bubbling liquid precariously.

Katze glared through pain filled eyes. The fucker was wearing one of his robes. It looked ridiculous on a male his size, but it covered all the vitals, that was a blessing. He didn’t need the distraction.

“A bit small I will admit,” Raoul fussed with the sleeves with feigned self-consciousness, before shifting his indolent gaze back to Katze, “see about making sure there is something serviceable in future. I prefer…”

“Green…”

A beatific smile covered Raoul’s handsome face as he practically beamed at Katze for showing such intuitive brilliance. “You are a clever, observant little thing, aren’t you? Then again, you always were.”

The mongrel narrowed his eyes, before turning his back. “I’ll be out in a minute, Sir Am, excuse me, please.”

“No! I told you, I am feeling remarkably tolerant tonight and came to see if you required assistance. I grow tired of you weighing the pros and cons of adjusting your limb. It will make no difference to the outcome.”

Katze gritted his teeth, stifling a moan of pain and frustration. “Donovan is busy minding the store. He usually takes care of this. I can do it. I just need to work up to it. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” Raoul barked, purposefully placing both long stemmed glasses on the vanity and padded across the room, turning the mongrel to face him.

The dealer refused to look up, preferring to gaze with bleary pain filled eyes at the smooth expanse of warm, ivory skinned before him.

“Look at me and don’t ask why in that tone you favor. It tends to make me brutish to you. That’s how this little …misunderstanding occurred in the first place.” Raoul sighed.

A wry smile came to the mongrel’s lips as he slowly looked up into cold, matter-of-fact green, currently making a detailed study of his countenance.

Raoul bent, licking the swollen puffy flesh, his eyes had taken a fancy to. Katze gasped in surprise at the softness of the tongue’s caress, closing his eyes, willing the feelings elicited to subside, as soft golden curls brushed his cheek. The Elite raised his head with a frown as a gentle finger tip passed over the bruised lower lip, examining the pink tinged digit in meditative silence.

“Katze, Katze, Katze, your little tantrum caused this,” Raoul added with a feigned fatigue as he lowered his head again, hovering briefly over nervously licked lips, taking them once more, robbing the mongrel of air.

A painful pressure was applied to his shoulder as it was wrenched counter clockwise, causing his knees to fail. The muffled pop accompanied by thrumming pain resounded within his head as warm lips, charmed, seared and soothed the sharp pain to a dull, throbbing ache.

~~~BMR~~~


Admon flinched, gripping his own shoulder in empathy, with eye lids tightly closed. He took the pain, allowing it to pass through him undiluted, knowing full well where it might lead as Katze’s mind floated, meandering down circuitous pathways, through clouded memory, deeper and deeper into the hidden recesses of memory. No time to choose, he followed.

The usual fog lifted as their minds merged revealing an operating theatre, clinically in its gray, cold indifference. Admon could feel his own being or was it Katze’s hovering above a body, barely a teen with flame red hair and distinctive well sculpted features that held the promise of handsomeness.

It was Katze, himself.

Admon curled into a ball atop the carpeted floor, breathing harshly through dry lips. Pain, excruciating pain; instinctively he clutched at his groin.

The mongrel had not been fully sedated rendered inert by medication half way through his procedure that looked to be more than simple castration. Muffled voices and shadowed presences spoke above him, entirely indifferent to his well being, deciding which manner of castration to perform that would best suit the needs of his new household.

Admon’s heart began to race as he struggled for air, feeling the frightened teens every passing thought. He had to maintain control. This was the past he was observing, he reminded himself. Katze had made it through. He must not internalize the memories. They were facets of the past and no longer had the visceral power of truth. His new Master was whole again.

Steadying his breathing with controlled thought, the Karinese refocused his energies, allowing the basso murmurs to become language and then intelligible words. His eyes flew open, recognizing that well modulated voice.

“He can hear you know, not that he will remember. We shouldn’t prolong this. Despite the other work performed successfully, he might die of shock from the pain alone, look at his brain function. It would entirely defeat the purpose of the long term experiment.”

Warm crystalline tears flowed down Admon’s face in sudden realization. He had no right to own, to participate in something buried for so long and so deeply.

Slowly crawling across the room, he began to gather the strewn shards of porcelain. He would find Mr. Kato and apologize. Above all else, he would need to keep his own counsel from henceforth until such time that Katze was ready to deal.

~~~BMR~~~


Pain was always relative the Ceres mongrel chided himself, as he opened his mouth with a soft moan and leaned into the taut body keeping him upright and groaned in sinful pleasure while a hot tongue voraciously explore unhindered. Inquisitive fingers made quick work of relieving him of his shirt and smoothly glided to the buckle at his waist releasing it, sliding it from the loops with a sharp hush of indecent speed.

No point protesting, it felt so damn good as did the slow sensual grind of Raoul’s hips. If nothing else, the bastard knew how to kiss, he thought abstractly, allowing his good arm to rise smoothly over a warm, tense shoulder into the wealth of silk at the nap of Raoul’s neck. “So soft,” he whispered against Raoul’s lips, pressing his hips forward, enjoying the throbbing heat and friction as they moved together in sensual promise. “Bed, now.”

He felt Raoul’s smile against the swollen flesh of his mouth and the not so gentle nip to his abused lower lip. “Food, first and a sling, I should think.”

Entirely confused by the non sequitur, Katze opened his eyes and looked up into amused bottle green eyes currently at half mast, while clearly enjoying the feel of Katze’s fingers idle carding of the cool silken strands, meditatively at the back of his skull. “With all due respect…”

A warm finger tip brushed velvet soft lips in warning, leaning forward, heavily and pinning him against the cool wall. “We have spoken of this little phrase before, Katze. Do not take my indulgence too far,” he almost purred into mongrel’s ear as long powerful arms encircled Katze’s waist. “Tonight alone, I will allow you the privilege of speaking your mind, within reason of course.”

Katze gasp as warm lips tasted the base of his throat and wended their way with wet kisses up the side of his neck, eliciting delicious shivers, as he carefully cradled his throbbing arm, using their respective chests as sling.

He had said speak his mind. “Isn’t this why you broke into my bedroom, so you could get your jollies and leave?”

Raoul lifted his head, a golden brow arched in mild affront. “Please, it took exactly thirty seconds to break your ‘code’ and I still intend to enjoy you at my leisure but first, you look in need of nourishment and I have a few questions.”

Katze stiffened. “About, Sir Am?”

Sighing loudly, Raoul pulled back and glared at the object of his lust. “Why must you spoil these moments with your tiresome need to know?”

The redhead attempted to shrug and winced. “Just need to know what the deal is. If you want to fuck me, there is nothing I can do about it, but I need to know the rules. Don’t want a repeat performance of the other night.”

Raoul gazed down questioningly at the blank, amber stare and the stubborn tilt of a strong chin. The little creature was not joking. There was no passion in the level gaze, though his body said otherwise as it clung to his. He was very good at compartmentalizing, a definite flaw in a mongrel, but a skill set worthy of note. More than likely why he ruled the black market with an iron hand. Most of his kind were base and impassioned, but not this one. The hand rubbing methodically at the base of his skull continued, but at a slower pace, as exotically tilted eyes continue to stare up at him implacably.

Fascinating, but disconcerting nonetheless, another Elite quality in one not born to be so.

“Well, Sir Am? What is it to be, tonight?”

“I do not appreciate the tone, Katze. Lose it, or that arm will be wrenched permanently out of its socket, if only to teach you respect for your betters.”

Katze bent his head in feigned submission. “My apologies, Sir Am. It is not my wish to displease you. I have things to do in just a matter of hours. I humbly request you do as you will to me and we can call it a night.”

Raoul’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the audacity of the simple statement, perturbed by how Katze had chosen to view their understanding. The Elite slowly backed away, feeling the rush of heat to his upper limbs that twitched in fury. If he didn’t move, he would harm him.

The dealer watched Raoul silently retrace his steps back into the bedroom. His gait had been far too slow and controlled. Raoul wanted to kill him for the slight, but Katze wondered briefly about Iason’s earlier comment and dismissed it. Sir Am simply needed to win like most Blondies unused to outright opposition to their wishes. That which he most dearly sought was victory, plain and simple.

“Fuckin’ brats,” Katz murmured and experimentally shifted his shoulder. Fuck it hurt, but he could deal he thought, slumping in relief against the cool tile with a prolonged sigh. At least this was a short reprieve he told himself, stepping out of the stall and reaching for the robe Kato always left behind the door.

Katze eased it over his shoulders carefully his amber eyes falling on the single glass of champagne left on the vanity. He rolled his eyes at his reflection. Apparently Raoul wasn’t sufficiently pissed to have left his flute. Katze snickered and downed the effervescent liquid. Probably the only glass he would get tonight - might as well enjoy.

“Then explain this!” Raoul practically hissed, but not from the bedroom, as Katze had originally thought.

“Explain what, Sir Am?” the dealer sighed heavily following the belligerent tone of voice to his outer office and froze at the resplendent feast set out; Kato and his timing or lack thereof. Damn he hadn’t even noticed coming into the darkened room, more concerned by the ambient light beneath his bedroom port and the sinking feeling that he already knew who was in there.

The auburn haired male leaned heavily on the doors frame, mildly amused by the sight of Raoul Am holding the top of the serving tray like Exhibit A, as fragrant steam wafted upwards.

“It’s called dinner, Sir Am.” Katze’s stomach gurgled embarrassingly, punctuating the comment. “I think you’re right, I’m hungry. Care to join me? I don’t eat much.”

Raoul’s brows twitched in irritation. “Watch the tone, mongrel and your point...” jewel toned eyes travelled briefly over the lean form of the dealer, “is self evident. A stiff wind and you would be lost.”

Despite himself, Katze smiled and launched himself into the room. Perhaps it marked the first non-disparaging comment the Elite had ever leveled at him.

“Allow me to serve you, Sir Am?”

The lid was inordinately hot, that had to be why he felt flushed when Katze had smiled at him without guile, Raoul convinced himself, placing the lid atop the clearing tray.

Raoul watched with suspicion while the mongrel set about preparing two plates with the utmost of care. The arm was giving him difficulty, but years of practice in his former profession had come to his aid.

“It looks like Kato has outdone himself tonight. I really, didn’t expect this, what with …”

Katze suddenly grew quiet filling the uncomfortable silence with busy efficient movements and precariously balancing the offering.

“If you would sit please, Sir Am, I am kind of at a disadvantage tonight with the holding thing?”

Raoul silently stepped around the lean figure with the nervous, furtive expression and gently took the utensils, placing them before him on the low table as Katze waited for him to be seated, dutifully.

The Elite stiffly accepted the proffered plate with a slight inclination of his head, noting Katze’s shoulders had edged down a fraction. He had been afraid.

“Why are there two of everything?” Raoul asked casually around a morsel of succulent meat, watching as the mongrel chose to sit cross legged companionably across from him on the carpet.

Remarkably flexible under the circumstances, quite the feat and done gracefully without hands, something to consider for later. There might well be options in positioning him during coitus without undue stress to the arm.

“I’m waiting. Were you planning on bedding that …what do you call them?”

Katze played with the sparse offering on his own plate and sighed. “His name is Admon, Sir Am and yes, I was going to test the goods tonight. I need to set his price.”

Raoul stilled. The wretched creature was far too direct at times, rather spoiling the game of thrust and parry, meant to put the little mongrel on the defensive. “Is this standard practice?”

The dealer, adjusted his injured arm securely into his lap and looked up tiredly at Sir Am before raising his fork once more, stabbing a leafy green saturated in an exotic mixture and chewed, his own gaze never leaving the Elite’s.

“No, I happen to find him attractive, Sir Am. Usually I leave it to Donovan to work out the price point.” Katze chuckled ruefully, stabbing another item, examining it with a quizzical auburn brown before lowering it back to the plate and selected another item in its place. “He enjoys the workout and I trust him.”

Raoul realized he had been grinding his teeth, while observing the mongrel’s finicky eating habits and reached for his empty flute in defense. “Get the champagne. I grow parched.”

“Of course, Sir Am, as you wish. I can call down and get another? There are two bottles left.” Katze offered, his narrowed gaze shifting from the Elite in comprehension. Raoul was jealous. He didn’t much like his toy, wanting to play with another. The Elite constitution was hardy, but at this rate, he would be out like a light soon. It was worth the loss of something he rarely had the opportunity to enjoy.

The Elite abruptly stood and glided over to the wet bar, whose pressure sensitive doors opened, revealing a respectable setup. “That won’t be necessary. We will finish what is in the bedroom and if need be,” Raoul waved dismissively at the bottles, “something here will suffice.”

Katze winced and began levering himself with one arm. It was easier going down than coming up.

“Sit. I will retrieve the bottle.” Raoul commanded, retracing his steps to the bedroom.

The dealer flopped in relief and examined the half eaten plate across from him, eying the door quickly, before using Raoul’s fork to prong the shell fish with a grin. Raoul wouldn’t miss it. He had been playing with it anyway for the last ten minutes. Obviously, he didn’t want it or like it for that matter.

Katze had manfully pronged its delicious companion, closing his eyes in bliss as he chewed with relish, then froze suddenly aware that he had been observed.

Raoul’s expression was peculiarly speculative as he studied his prey.

The dealer felt uncomfortably beneath the inscrutable gaze and hurriedly began to apologize. “Sorry, I’ll make you a new plate, Sir Am.”

Pale well formed lips quirked a fraction at their corners, “Katze, we have shared bodily fluids before and will again. I have taken no offense, other than observing the unexpected atrocity of your table manners.”

Katze blushed avoiding Raoul’s amused eyes as he refilled his own flute and resettled himself on the couch, retrieving his own plate.

“Where were we?’

“Donovan?” Katze shrugged and winced again. He kept forgetting.

Raoul actually smiled down his patrician nose at the mongrel, helping himself to the hidden companion of Katze’s quarry nestled lovingly beneath some manner of vegetable, beyond overcooked by Raoul’s standards.

“Palatable and no, I believe my query had more to do with why you had departed from your usual protocol with your whores. It is my understanding he is known for his exceptional mouth, is that the source of the attraction, or were you simply curious about what it would feel like to bury your member in another, finally?”

Katze choked, champagne spewing from his nostrils as he sputtered. “What?”

As if nothing untoward had occurred, Raoul threw a neatly folded napkin at Katze’s face and continued to smirk as he selected another tidbit for consumption.

“Ahhh, as I suspected. Pour yourself another, Katze. I told you, I am feeling inordinately generous tonight.”

~~~BMR~~~


Kato mumbled to himself, walking back and forth down the long darkened hallway that led to his Master’s private lair. This sudden ferocity had to be reported. Admon was in actuality dangerous. The Master had to be told.

Taking a deep breath, the elderly man stopped in front of the unassuming wall space that hid a door behind the holographic image of a plain mirrored wall. Kato straightened as best he could, nervous gnarled fingers reaching for the invisible keypad.

“Don’t.”

The elderly man swung around to face the disembodied voice, almost losing his balance in fear.

Admon gently steadied the tottering old man. “The Master would prefer to be left alone this night, Mr. Kato. He has an important guest.”

“Admon, why are you in this hallway? It is strictly forbidden, unless otherwise called.”

Kneeled in front of the bent, frightened elder, Admon weighed the merits of an honest approach that allowed for grace and the perception of authority and status within their tenuous bound. “I humbly apologize, Mr. Kato. My conduct towards you was unconscionable. I assure you, it will never happen again.”

Pursing wizened lips, Kato subjected Admon to a lingering look, dark eyes mere pinpoints of discernable light, while assessing the true depths of Admon’s supposed contrition.

“See that it doesn’t.” Kato huffed, unconvinced. The feral look had abated somewhat in those flame colored eyes.

Kato would not soon forget the sudden constriction within his chest and the inability to breathe when Admon had raised his fist and lunged towards him with menace. It felt as if Admon had been holding his heart in his hand by some ancient necromantic means.

No, regardless the Master had to be told. He was a viper in their midst awaiting the first opportune moment strike his quietly benevolent Master, on whose shoulders so many lives rested; lives that once were forfeit either by circumstance or the misfortune of birth.

Kato’s face grew grim and determined as he rolled his arthritic hands into tight balls, prepared to fight.

“I will not allow anyone to hurt, him.”

Admon raised his head, dark ruby eyes aglow. “Neither will I, Kato. My future rests with him.”


~~~BMR~~~


To say they had eaten the rest of their meal in companionable silence would be a lie, peppered as the conversation was with leading questions about the club, the clientele and the daily goings on, all of which Katze resented. Had it been anyone else, this meeting would have ended abruptly.

Katze had grown uncomfortably aware of Raoul again as the meal came slowly to a close and dessert was in the offing. Jupiter he regretted asking Kato for the chocolate sweets. The man had gone to such lengths to acquire them too. No repeat performance, even if on home turf.

“Dessert? I think you’ll like it, Master Am.”

Pale amber eyes carefully assessed Raoul under lowered lids. The Elite was holding up well considering the amount he had drunk. His poised bearing had given way to long, supplely limbed indolence of movement. Katze eyes flicked to Raoul’s face and paused as emerald green twinkled cunningly back, well aware of the true nature of the query.

Katze was still looking for an out, however distant the possibilities – irritating.

“I have no doubt I will enjoy it …too.” He placed emphasis on the final word with a smirk. “I rather like being served by you.”

“Serviced more like,” Katze muttered under his breath, rising to his knees and began the arduous task of clearing with one limb. He had no intention of calling Kato in now. Old habits did die hard. He would just neaten the area and bring the carafe of coffee along with dessert through to the bedroom, even if it took two trips. It was simply time to get this over with.

The Elite sighed contentedly and watched with lazy indolence the surprisingly efficient grace displayed. He had to admit being somewhat aroused by the subtle shift of muscle beneath the gown that was haphazardly draped over Katze’s shoulders and tied with a certain prime finality about the mongrel’s lean waist. The Blondie pursed his lips, his stare growing hooded as he chided himself for a lack of forethought, raising the crystal to his lips and sipped.

He really should have removed Katze’s trousers earlier. It would have made for a far more titillating sight, not to mention it would have made an excellent barometer of the creature’s true interest in the proceedings.

Ah well he sighed again still contented by the sight before him though Katze’s back was turned. Slight of build maybe but he did have a magnificent form.

“Leave those. Come here.”

Katze turned cautiously with the carafe. “What about dessert, Sir Am?”

“You are dessert, Katze. I would have thought that obvious to one such as yourself who delights in calculating each move of his opponent.”

Jupiter but he wanted to smack that insufferably smug look off the Elite’s exquisite face.

Raoul chuckled lightly, raising his flute in salute. “See, you’re doing it as we speak. You are such an enigmatic creature, Katze, but those eyes betray you.”

The prick obviously imagined this was going to go all his own way, well not this time if he could help it. He was gonna get something out of it too.

“Come here…” Raoul’s tone brooked no argument. “Now.”

“As you wish, Master Am, I live to serve.”

~~~BMR~~~


Admon regarded his bleeding thumb with genuine curiosity as another crimson drop pebbled atop the pale digit.

He smiled, placing the injured finger beneath the caressing warmth of the running water, allowing it to sooth the minor injury. It was only fitting that he, not Kato, retrieve the shattered porcelain of his dinner tray. Such a small price, he mused squeezing his thumb, allowing the blood to flow freely into the sink. Entirely mesmerized by the life giving elixir as it swirled in diluted eddies down the drain, he heard as if in echo, his Master’s voice. The last words he had spoken to him as he boarded his flight. Those words resonated now in a new and most profound way.

“Within each crimson drop is a history and if followed to its true end can reveal all manner of secrets, some of which could rock the foundations of long held beliefs. It is the Dark Moon Rising, Admon.”


Admon reclined atop the fresh sheets and breathed, his only companion this night the silvered sliver of a twin reaching the deep carpeting in the cloistered darkness, the room’s only source of light.

There was little else to be done now, he would simply wait. Kato was not convinced of his sincerity. That might prove problematic in the days to come. Still he would protect his new Master until he was ready. He would give him no reason to doubt.

Closing his eyes the Karinese drifted back to the warmth; back to touch; back to laughter; back to a chaste kiss.

~~~BMR~~~


From a great distance he heard it, the sound of voices below the open window, as a deceptively soft breeze wafted within, causing gooseflesh upon his good arm that smoothed, hot, damp resilient muscles beneath his finger tips.

He groaned as pinpoints of light met the filmy darkness beneath his closed lids, each time Raoul’s cock sent sparks from the grazing of his pleasure point within.

Laughter, slurred words carried upon the wind to his hearing, joining the thrum of his heart beat as warm skin cosseted him, cradled him and wet lips, warm, moist and insistent stole his breath.

Katze faced the fact, as his mind powered down. It would always probably end this way, regardless of pain and mild discomfiture upon entry; he was his.

It would always be this way until the game played out and another was found that would best sate the urge to copulate.

“Yeeeeeeeees, fuck ….mmmmmmm….so good,” the redhead practically purred.

Raoul moaned his pleasure, burying his nose in the warm fragrant silk of Katze’s neck, being careful of the arm separating them. It was the least he could do. This was heaven, he mused dazedly, snapping his hips forward again and again with growing urgency. The slick, clinging heat as he slid home more than met the want of his expectation as Katze shuddered into each powerful thrust, allowing, wanting, needing, accommodating the conquest of his flesh with the answered undulation of his spine, rising to meet and accept.

A baleful moan escaped Katze’s lips, causing Raoul to open his eyes. Had he hurt him?

Not now, he had been so careful; he was smaller, that had to be taken in account, if for no other reason, it would affect his compliance the next time, because there surely would be a next time.
Slowly he raised his tousled mane and looked down on that near angelic visage, lost in its own bliss. How beautiful he seemed, almost glowing. His lips parted, trembling waiting, the furrow of delicate brows, pained pleasure evident upon his well sculpted face.

No, he was fine. A great comfort Raoul realized, taking his lips once more as he shifted his weight and powerful forearms, lifted those long sinuous legs higher, almost touching his ears, allowing for greater penetration.

He was flexible, a benefit, he thought contentedly as quivering internal muscles welcomed him more fully.

“Jupiter, I hate you, but you’re really good at this.” Katze stuttered between breaths, opening his own eyes lazily, as a shadowed countenance regarded him with a glazed, unfocussed and definitely smug expression.

“So tight,” Raoul moaned as the dull repetitive thud of moist flesh met flesh rhythmically.

“Harder…do it harder. Make me feel it, Sir Am. Make me remember, you were there before anyone else.”

Raoul psyche splintered in that moment with the passion filled request as Katze’s coiled form surrendered, arching his spine into each powerful twist, the throbbing wetness of his cock cleaved to Raoul’s own abdomen, allowing the friction to take him to fruition.

Katze wanted him. Despite the protest, the mongrel wanted him.

The Elite’s hips stilled as he raised himself on powerful forearms and glared, as best he could, at the male lying below him.

Katze wanted him. This was new. Even with all the protestations, he had wanted him. He lied.

Raoul dipped his head as sleepy, lust hazed amber eyes regarded him in question, while the body beneath grew taut in apprehension, its owner very afraid he had said something wrong - again.

“I have always wanted you,” Raoul murmured against soft lips, amazed at his own candor as he felt the smile against his lips and his own body began to move of its own volition, following the age old cadence, taking what was his and always had been with renewed vigor.

“No shit,” Katze answered breathlessly. “So get it over with already. We both have things to do.”

Raoul’s muffled growl of threat was met with feather light touches to the thick twisted mass of silk, caressed by the mongrel. “Fight later. Fuck now, please, Master Am. I need to cum as do you, I can’t take much more of this.”

Increasing his pace while smothering those importunate lips with his own, Raoul obliged with preemptive nips to soft lips, “Be careful what you ask for, little mongrel. I have not yet begun to claim ownership to what is rightfully mine or yours for that matter.”

It was the 'or yours', that stilled Katze. He hung on that cusp for an infinitesimal moment of realization, and his abdominal muscles tightened and his cock pulsed and his balls gave and gave as ascribed by nature and nerve, need and sinew surrendered to the hallowed bliss and anointed their respective flesh.


~~~BMR~~~


Admon stilled, feeling the trickle of warmth between his own legs. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It was done. Another way would have to be found, the night was young yet. They had, unbeknownst to them, forged the beginning of their bond.