Not long after midnight, His Royal Highness Prince Derrick of Tygeria, along with his best friend Kylar staggered into the small cantina on the pleasure moon of Belline. They were arm in arm, not because of their friendship, however close it might have been, but because it had become necessary to hold each other up. They were exceedingly drunk and looking for trouble.
Belline was one of the three moons orbiting Lycanus 2, which had sometimes been called the Sin Planet, because of the large number of brothels and bars located both there and on its one inhabitable moon. Drawn there by stories that Belline offered up all things both extremely desirable and highly illegal to those who sought them, they’d heard that this particular cantina, Starlight, was the kind of place where they’d have to fight their way in and fuck their way out. Since they were anxious to do both, it sounded like exactly what they were looking for.
This was Prince Derrick’s first visit, but it wouldn’t be his last if he had anything to say about it. And from now on, he most certainly did. Derrick planned never to take another order again—unless of course, it came from his father, King Davos, or his even more intimidating human omak, Blake. Maybe his older brother, Mikos. But nobody else. Not ever again.
Derrick had been training for the Axis Army for the past six years, ever since he was only fourteen years old, and during all that time, he’d had to do whatever the drill instructors said, whenever and wherever and however they wanted him to do it. But yesterday was graduation day, and he was a free man at last. No more endless drills and grueling training exercises. No more forced hikes late at night over rough terrain wearing full combat gear. Training had been arduous, punishing and ultimately as boring as all four hells, and he was glad to be done with it and be out in the real world at last. Since his best friend Kylar completely agreed, they’d decided to celebrate by giving themselves this one night to break loose from all the endless rules.
Unfortunately, in their minds at least, the war had ended before they could get involved in it, but there was always a brawl or a skirmish going on somewhere in the galaxy. Neither of them could wait to land right in the middle of one. So when they reeled inside the cantina and saw a few of the Nilanium pirates known as the Drex bellied up to the bar, a big smile blossomed on Derrick’s face. Gods, how he hated stinking pirates. Swaggering up to the one closest to the entrance, he grabbed his shoulder and yanked him around, growling down in his face. “You’re in my seat, Drex scum.”
The much smaller man looked Derrick and Kylar up and down. “Go away and leave me alone,” he said before he turned his back on them.
Kylar leaned in closer to him and growled at him. “I don’t think you heard my friend, Pirate. We’re here to drink a lot of liquor and kick a little ass. And we don’t have a drink yet.”
The Drex turned back with a growl of his own, surprising both Tygerians by putting the point of a wicked looking knife into the hollow beneath Kylar’s chin. “Are you talking to me, you Tygerian fuckhead?” he snarled.
The growl of a Tygerian when his blood is high was a truly frightening thing, low and guttural and far from a sound any other species could make. It had the added advantage of striking fear into all those who heard it—as long as the hearer wasn’t too drunk himself for the sound to register. Unfortunately for the pirate, he must have been too far gone to be intimidated.
The Drex applied enough pressure on the blade for it to draw a few drops of blood, and with a surprised and wounded roar, Kylar hooked his foot around a leg of the barstool, whipped it out from under the pirate, and then crashed down on top of the man as he fell to the floor. Derrick jumped in to help and pulled back his fist, fully intending to break the pirate’s jaw, but before he could, another bigger pirate jumped on Derrick’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and clinging to him like a Leerian monkey with a sweet-cake. Kylar continued rolling around with the little pirate on the floor and before another minute had passed, the entire cantina had erupted into a ferocious and barbarous brawl.
Much later, after the huge Lycan bouncers of Starlight had tossed everyone out on the street, Derrick sat up in the filthy gutter and clapped his friend Kylar on the back. “Well, that was fun. But we never did get around to the fucking portion of the evening.”
Kylar blinked slowly back at him and solemnly intoned, “Then we need to take care of that.”
Beside Derrick, the little pirate who had first drawn his knife on Kylar, groaned aloud and rolled over on his back, clutching his head. Derrick turned to look at him, noticing for the first time how pretty he was, with his pale, perfect skin and his black, curly hair. His sooty black eyelashes lifted to reveal a pair of flashing dark eyes. Derrick grinned down at him and nudged him with his knee. “You’ll do. Let’s have a drink, little Drex.”
Kylar leaned around him and grinned. “Say yes, little Drex. I intend to sleep with somebody tonight, and it may as well be you.”
The pirate peered up at him through one swelling eye. “In your dreams, Tygerian.”
“Oh, you’ll dream about me afterward, all right. I can guarantee it,” Kylar said with a laugh. “Now, how about that drink?”
Derrick and Kylar finally managed to talk the Drex into going back inside, and the two of them, working together, managed to get themselves up and haul the Drex to his feet as well. Once inside, they upended one of the tables, set it back on its feet, and pulled up some chairs so they could order a round of visu punch for the whole bar.
Visu punch was a potent brew that shot off little puffs of green smoke as it bubbled and gurgled in the bowl in which it was served. It was a strong Tygerian drink, a combination of several robust liquors, and it had been outlawed on some planets. Derrick remembered his brother Mikos saying he had once gotten so drunk on the stuff that he had lain insensible for forty-two hours afterward. His friends had to hold a mirror to his mouth to make sure he was still breathing. He had warned his younger brothers to be careful of the drink, but the liquor Derrick already had in his system was telling him to go ahead and drink an entire bowl of it. He could do whatever he wanted now. It was one of the last coherent thoughts he had.
At one point, he remembered getting to his feet with an urgent need to find a place to relieve himself. The bar was dark, and he was aware of people sitting in the shadows, some of whom were watching him closely. He wasn’t worried—his brother Mikos had told him to always put his money belt under his robe so no pickpocket could relieve him of his gold when he was drunk. Confident in his own fighting ability should anyone try to jump him, he staggered on toward the back of the bar. Once there, he was too drunk to read the signs, so he opened various doors trying to find the bathroom, but had no luck. Finally, he opened one that led to the alley behind the bar, and since desperate times called for desperate measures, he leaned against the wall, opened his robes and sighed with relief as he emptied his bladder.
He was never able to remember exactly what happened then—he thought he might have fallen asleep as he leaned there against the wall in the dark—but the next thing he remembered was warm hands under his robe and being swept up and crushed against a muscular chest. Someone was whispering wild words of passion in his ear. Then somehow his robe was off and he was naked and shivering. Someone was still running their hands over Derrick’s body, while managing to thrust their tongue into his mouth. Derrick was startled and almost overcome. A feeling of completeness went over him, like something he’d been searching for his whole life had suddenly and miraculously appeared. He put his arms up around his partner’s neck as they mingled their hot breath and reached up to feel an earring in his ear, like one of the pirates.
The Drex wore earrings in that fashion, but usually the Drex were small. This man was even a few inches taller than he was, and Derrick could feel the muscles rippling down the man’s arms. Whoever he was, he was murmuring to him in a language of sugar-coated syllables that Derrick didn’t immediately recognize, but it wasn’t any language he was overly familiar with. Maybe Leerian? Whatever it was, it was making his knees weak.
The Drex’s kisses had a drugging effect on Derrick. Though he figured his breath must be vile, his partner’s kisses tasted sweet, and he never wanted to stop. Gods, whoever this man was, he was luscious, his lips warm and full. And his smell—Derrick had never smelled anything so musky and sweet. So absolutely delicious. Derrick pressed his lips against the moist, full ones over his and then ground into them with a passion that surprised him and seemed to come out of nowhere. He even heard himself whimpering. His partner sighed into the kiss and touched his tongue to Derrick’s again while his big hands gently, maddeningly massaged the cheeks of his naked ass. Derrick was electrified by it. He’d never felt anything like this before, and had never before had this lightheaded, toe-curling compulsion to be ravished by his partner. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around the man’s waist.
“Make love to me,” Derrick moaned.
“I want to,” his lover said, “but I’m afraid you’re too drunk, sweetheart.”
“No, no, I’m not drunk. Well, maybe I am a little—but I still know I want you to make love to me. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before. Please…”
The gorgeous man groaned, pressing his body closer and kissing him again. “Don’t tempt me so, pet. For once in my life, I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“No, please. Do me instead.” Derrick pulled his head back down, intent on making him make love to him. He felt mesmerized by the pirate’s kisses, but he wanted more. They tussled together for a moment, strength to strength, but Derrick could tell the pirate wasn’t using all of his. If he’d wanted to force him, he could have, but it simply wasn’t necessary. Derrick wanted this. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. A fine sweat had broken out on his body and he tried to see the pirate’s face, but it was far too dark in this alleyway, and Derrick was almost too far gone.
He had the sense of something monumentally important happening to him. A tide was turning and if he could stop fighting it, he might be swept along with it. Strong fingers handled him knowingly, pushing him back against the wall. Derrick wrapped his arms around his pirate’s neck and lifted his face up for another sweet kiss. He rutted against the pirate shamelessly, wanting to feel the man inside him. He was vaguely aware of trying to get inside the other man’s trousers so he could take out his cock and hold it in his hand. He begged him to make love to him, when he’d never before even thought of doing such a thing before. But he wanted this man so much.
“You have a Lycan knot,” he said, almost giddy with desire. “Oh gods, I want it inside me.” On a sudden, overpowering impulse, he lifted his hips and lowered himself over the long, thick cock, trying his best to sink down onto it.
“No, baby. We can’t do this,” the pirate groaned in his ear. “You don’t know what this means. You can’t know what you’re doing.”
“Tell me then. Make me understand.”
“I’m half-Lycan. My bite will make you my mate, and if I make love to you, if I give you my knot, then I won’t be able to resist biting you. So unless you want to be mine…”
“I do. Make me yours.”
The handsome pirate pulled back to look at him and smiled. “On Lycanus, if you say that three times, it means you’re as good as married. Belline is subject to those laws, so be careful, sweetheart, or you’ll be mine forever.”
“Make me yours, make me yours, make me yours,” Derrick said against his ear. A shudder ran through the man as Derrick wrapped his legs around his pirate’s waist.
“Damn it, boy. You’re killing me.” Derrick felt the scrape of teeth on the side of his neck. It wasn’t hard, but it stung and burned. He closed his eyes again and felt just the tip of the pirate’s cock inside him. He gasped, wanting more, trying to force the pirate to enter him—but he’d never had anyone touch him there before, and when it became painful, he cried out. He was aware of his partner putting him back on his feet and bending him over. Derrick was amazed at his strength and his power, because he wasn’t a small man by any means to be manhandled like this. And gods, why did he love it so much?
Hot kisses were raining down on the back of his neck, which still tingled and burned, and he gave himself up to the pleasure and the pain and let the man do with him what he would. Caught there, impaled on a broad finger and drunk on way too much liquor and kisses that were far too potent, he felt himself fading away. He tried to fight it, to struggle back to the surface, but it was too overwhelming. The tide had come in and taken him off his feet and he was spun into a massive wave. Tumbled end over end, he closed his eyes and was swept down to the bottom of a tempest-tossed sea.