Surrender Love
Kayelle AllenAvailable from Loose Id
Excerpt 2 Surrender Love by Kayelle Allen M/M SciFi Romance [ADULT] Setting up the scene: The immortal Luc Saint-Cyr's lover of five years
has left him, and to avoid public fanfare, Luc spends his days working and his
nights drinking himself to sleep. Loneliness and despair are encroaching like
tyrants in the night. His life needs purpose; he lacks a reason to face each
day. Meanwhile, Izzorah Ceeow, a drummer for the group Kumwhatmay, has traveled
for the last year with them and a couple of other rock groups in the Lucsondis
stable. They're in Tarth City to sign a new contract with Luc's entertainment
company. Trouble is, Izzorah has a few secrets, any one of which could cost him
his career, his friends, and possibly even his life. If ever he needed a hero,
it's now. Destiny is bringing them together, but will they be able to overcome
their own layers of secrets and lies, and each surrender to love? Note: ****** denotes beginning and end of fantasy / flashback Di Consueto District His room in the Renyoj Building sounded cavernous. Lucsondis
Entertainment put them in posh places wherever Kumwhatmay toured, always top of
the line. Izzorah Ceeow flung himself onto his bed and spread arms and legs
wide. "This bed's huge!" He ducked as his cousin landed next to him. "Sure is." Fletch threw himself across Izzorah and scraped
knuckles against his head. Laughing, Izzorah shoved him and rolled off the bed to bounce away.
Fletch immediately gave chase and Izzorah went down in a flying tackle. He
heard the lamp pitch off the table and stretched his body, flung out both hands
and caught it before it hit the floor. "Good catch!" Fletch crawled over to him, breathing heavily
with exertion. "You almost broke it!" Izzorah sat up, knelt, and lifted the
lamp back to the table. "Did not." Fletch gave him a playful shove. "Did." He shoved back. After a moment, Fletch poked him. "S'up, keet-sah? Nervous about tomorrow?" "Can't help it." Izzorah dragged the claws of both hands back
through his hair. "This time, our contract-signing will be with Luc
Saint-Cyr himself." "The Man, huh?" Fletch sat on the other bed. "I hear he
has android eyes." "Nah. Solid black contacts cover his whole eye. I met Wulf Gabriel
last year, when we signed our first contract, and he told me." "Who's Wulf?" "He runs Lucsondis for Mr. Saint-Cyr." Izzorah peeled down the
covers and crawled underneath. He punched the pillow and pulled it under his
chest. "They were lovers until a few weeks ago. Everybody's talking about
it. It's all over the news. I feel sorry for both of 'em. They get no privacy." "I'm gonna take a shower." Izzorah covered a yawn and listened to the water running. It finally
shut off, and the door opened, shut. Footsteps crossed the floor and Fletch
climbed into the other bed. The light dimmed. Fletch's voice came out of the dark. "Kumwhatmay know you like guys
yet?" "No. I don't get involved with fans. We don't talk about sex." "How about the other thing?" "Which one?" Fletch rustled the covers as he turned over. "Your eyes." "No clue." Izzorah lifted his head and angled his face toward
his cousin's voice. "Which is why you're here. They can't find out, Fletch.
Not after all I've been through." "You've hidden it two years. Maybe ya oughta tell 'em." "No. There are nights when all I think about are the ways I could
screw up. I go over every detail of the set, every part of the stage. Meeting
new people in a new place -- I can hardly breathe." "Hey, I got you." Fletch knelt between the beds. "I'm not
lettin' nothing happen to you." Izzorah let out a long breath. "Thanks, keet-sah." "You haven't called me keet-sah
since you learned the Etymis word was cousin." "Sorry, popped out." "Felis is your cradle language. You're Kin. Not like you could hide
pointy ears, claws, and fangs. Why hide your language?" "Not tryin' to be human. I wanna blend in. Hate being stared at."
Izzorah punched the pillow as he snuggled into the bed. "Thanks for coming
with me." "Is Tark bringing his family?" A pang of sadness made Izzorah sigh. "Nah. His divorce went through
while we were on the last leg of the tour." "Oh, man. Suuuuucks!" "Yeah. You're the only family who'll be there." Fletch made a sound from across the room, and Izzorah snapped his head
toward him. He hadn't heard Fletch move. Water splashed into a glass, gulping
and a belch followed, then the clink of glass. Footsteps padded back to bed. "G'nite, keet-sah."
Fletch lay down. "Tomorrow's gonna be a great day." Izzorah turned onto his side. How
much longer can I keep this up before the group figures out I'm almost blind? I
can't even keep track of one person that I know, let alone a roomful of
strangers! He braced an arm across his churning stomach. Have to sleep. Gotta be my best tomorrow.
He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched. Sleep,
Izzy! Sleep! After a few minutes, Fletch mumbled in his sleep and started snoring. Sighing, Izzorah sat up and hung his head in his hands. What's the use? I'm way too wound up. He
headed for the shower. Izzorah slicked his hair down with shampoo. On the road, there was never
time to pick up Kin stuff that didn't have smells in it. Hotel generic-herbal
stuff stank, but it was usually all he had, unless one of his cousins stayed
with him or sent a care package. He turned up the heat and turned his back, head tilted down so the hot
water could soothe the tension in neck and shoulders. He lathered shampoo into
his pelt, a thick band of fur covering the upper part of his chest above his
nipples and up to the collarbone. Human girls loved to play with it, but other than enjoying cuddles and
kisses, he went no farther with fans. Let the others take on as many females as
they wanted; no way Izzorah was letting on to Kumwhatmay he preferred guys. On
his homeworld, the simple admission would get him killed. Maybe it was no big
deal on Tarth, but if it got out to his Kin fans... He groaned and shook his
head. I'm no freer here
than I was back home. Maybe if I let myself be seen with another guy in public...
Yeah, right. Half the followers of Kumwhatmay are Kin. If I screwed up the
group, then where'd I be? A drummer with no band. Great. He lifted his
face to the water and let it wash away the sting forming in his eyes. He rinsed, smoothing his hands down his body. He wrapped one hand around
his sahm. Cock, he corrected himself,
forcing the Etymis word into his mind. They were on Kelthia after the last concert, and while the rest of
Kumwhatmay partied, Izzorah hid out in his dressing room, claiming jump lag. He
leaned against the door and slid down to the floor. Alone. Again.
Still. What I really want, I'll never have. Humans want dominant Kin lovers,
not a submissive one. The images he'd seen on Kin sex vids, of humans being taken -- not in
cruelty, but with power, with concern -- yet taken, used, and toyed with like a
precious, valued pet, made Izzorah groan, aching for a human lover who'd take
him like that, if only for a night. ****** Out of nowhere, a human male gripped both Izzorah's arms and pulled him
to his feet in one move, pinioning him to the wall like a trophy, hands at
shoulder level, one massive thigh between Izzorah's. Snarling, Izzorah released claws and bared fangs, but the man stayed out
of reach. It was dark, and none of his features showed. Against this kind of
strength and at such an angle, Izzorah had no defense. He forced his claws
fully from their sheaths, but could not reach skin. Grunting with effort, he
growled like a warrior. "I won't hurt you." A whiff of mint revealed the human's
amusement at his efforts, but there was no scent of enjoyment. Whoever he was,
he meant no harm. With abrupt resignation, Izzorah ceased fighting and rested his head
against the wall. He gulped air. "Very, very good. Obey, and you have nothing to fear from me."
A hint of bread baked with cinnamon wafted into the air. Contentment? Why? 'Cause
I stopped resisting? I obeyed? Naked, helpless in the man's hands, Izzorah shivered despite heat
roaring through his body. He heard himself panting, felt the stretch of his
cock thickening, balls heavy. He lowered his ears in submission, gaze down in
respect. One did not meet a Kin warrior's gaze without permission, and what was
this man if not a warrior? "Hands above your head." The deep timbre of the man's voice
sounded the way velvet felt on the fingertips. The man gripped his wrists while Izzorah slid his hands upward. It
opened his chest, spread him flat against the wall, and arched him toward the
human. Like most Kin, Izzorah's skinfur was golden-hued, and the thick, almost
mane-like swath of the pelt on his chest matched. His chest rose and fell, a
cross between fear and desire making him pant. The man held both Izzorah's wrists with one hand, and hovered the other
over his chest. At last, he pet Izzorah's thick pelt. "Kitten soft."
The man's scent deepened to paper so hot it smoldered; his lust bordered on
pain. "Seeyoo, te ahsgah tsoh."
He spoke like a native. "Teehh ke tu
kahta vahss." Hearing his own language spoken, Izzorah jerked up his head. Good, my
male beauty, the man had said, using a formal term no rapist would use, and
then, give me your eyes here. Does he
mean "look at me?" Izzorah obeyed, but darkness hid the man's eyes, as if they were solid
black against black skin. The man linked their fingers and leaned into Izzorah's body. Black
gloves covered the hands holding him captive. The fabric of the man's coat and
pants felt smooth yet rough at the same time. Big, big man. Tall as a Kin and
muscled like one. "Show me your fangs." Flashing fangs at a Kin was an insult; didn't humans know? Izzorah bared
them, licked the sharp points, which usually scared off bullies. Not this man. "Seeyoo,
good. You have perfect fangs. You could bite and make me feel it." Izzorah opened his mouth wider and hissed a warning, but the man's scent
of lust deepened, and he merely flexed his fingers. "Seeyoo. Seeyoo, te tsoh dhoksi." Good. Good, my beautiful
lover. Wrinkling his nose, Izzorah drew in this man's scent. Clean, sweet truth.
He really thinks I'm beautiful? He wants me for his lover? "Now your claws, dhoksi. I want to feel them against my hands.
Pierce the gloves." Even a human should know better. In battle, a Kin's claws penetrated
bone. He let them out of their sheaths and obeyed. Gently. The man hissed with pleasure; desire emanated from every pore. It brought Izzorah's cock to full readiness, drew up his balls, and sent
a flush of heat throughout his body. He made no attempt to free himself. He was
safe with this man. But why? How can I be
safe when I've been assaulted, held captive, imprisoned between the wall and my
attacker? Because the man's scent held passion, joy, and no menace or threat. "Stand on tiptoe and give me your mouth." The deep voice
caressed, soothed. "I'm going to taste you." Izzorah tilted back his head and rose on tiptoes to obey. He pulled back
his tongue at the smoothness of the human's, not barbed and scratchy like a Kin's. The man released his hands, cupped both of his around Izzorah's face,
and bent forward, angling his head to slant his mouth over Izzorah's. A kiss of
power. Relentless energy. Savage in need, but not in the way he kissed. The
softest mouth, bold, taking, claiming every part of him, yet tender, as if he
feared Izzorah would break if he kissed too hard. Gripping the man's jacket, Izzorah dug in claws to pull him closer, used
one hand to open the coat and bring their chests together. Silk against wet
skinfur. At the feel of ripped muscle beneath the shirt, Izzorah pulled the
cloth up and out of the pants, ran both hands over smooth, human skin, the
ridged abs, hard and defined. No velvet covering like a Kin -- only a crisp
tangle of short curls in the middle of his naked chest, trailing downward to
pants and a belt. The man wrapped both arms around Izzorah and cupped his hands beneath
thighs, lifting and pulling him close. "Wrap your legs around my waist. I
want your cock against mine." Izzorah gave a moaning whimper, unable to resist whatever this man
wanted, whatever he demanded, whatever he wished. The powerful human braced both knees between Izzorah's thighs and kept
on kissing as he ground their cocks against one another through his clothes.
The merging of their mouths and sliding cocks filled every thought, every sense,
every aspect of Izzorah's being, sheltering him in a cocoon of pleasure. Izzorah nibbled the man's mouth, tasted blood drawn by fangs, sweet and
buttery with desire, passion a honeyed cream. Izzorah couldn't catch his breath.
He'd never dreamed it would be so good. The man stepped back and let him down. Curling one knuckle beneath
Izzorah's chin, he bent to kiss him. "I'll see you soon." He added
another small kiss and turned to go. "No!" Izzorah gripped his hand. "Don't leave me. Who are
you? How can I find you?" A glimmer of even, white human teeth flashed in the darkness. "I'm
your destiny. Your warrior. I'll find
you." He stepped back,
disappearing into the darkness. ****** "No!" Izzorah pushed open the shower door. The brightly-lit
room had filled with fog. "But...but it was so dark..." Had he been
asleep in the shower? Three quick raps made him jump. "Who is it?" "Who do you think? It's Fletch." His cousin knocked again. "Come
on, keet-sah. Kory's bitching about
it's time to leave, and I need to pee." "Leave?" Izzorah ran both hands through his hair. "Hang
on a minute." He turned the water off, flipped the door switch, and
grabbed a towel. "'Bout time. I was dancing out there. You been in here forever.
Whatcha doin', keet-sah? Ohnahmeeyana?"
The toilet flushed. "No, I'm not whacking off." His cock felt as limp as if he'd
already come. Could a fantasy make me...? "You get any sleep?" "Practicing." Izzorah hid his face and ruffled a towel through
his hair. "Just got in the shower." "Some day, you'll pull an all-nighter and miss a show." "Never missed one yet." Fletch double-checked his smooth chin in the mirror. "I'm going to
the lobby. Turn right when you come out of the room and the elevator's ten
steps on the right. I'll watch for you." "Wah doh. Thank you."
Izzorah toweled himself dry and ran fingers through his black hair to
straighten it. It hung over his eyes and he flung it back. Close to the mirror
so he could focus, he slid a finger across his mouth. His lips were as swollen
and dark as if he'd really been kissed. With a shiver, he left the room and
began to dress. =========== Surrender Love Buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/prod-Surrender__Love-887.aspx
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