"Janrae Frank - Dark Brothers of the Light 02 - Bloood Heresy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frank Janrae)

Yoris whined for an instant at Bodramet's roughness, which earned him a shake.

"My rooms, Yoris. Don't make me unhappy."

Once upstairs in his rooms, Bodramet dragged Yoris through the sitting room and tumbled him onto the
bed. "Undress."

Bodramet regarded Yoris' effeminate, flabby body with distaste made worse by the spreading signs of
withering, the red splotches marring the skin. Yoris' blood had begun to taste more acrid and sharp, less
of copper; but it was still blood. This was not what he wanted at all. A firm young female or a hard
muscled young male would be more to his preference, someone whose blood had a full-bodied flavor
like fine wine.
He missed his father's estates in Waejontor, and his privileges: the table set with everything he could
possibly wish for; the sycophants and nubile youths so willing to warm his bed and his veins with their
flesh and blood. But the estates were laid waste by the Sharani; his father and brothers either slain or fled
during the months that Bodramet had followed Mephistis south to conquer new lands. Now here he was
a blood-slave with nothing to his name, watching a lowborn half-a-mon stealing all the favors.

"Isranon," he growled softly to himself. "I'd like to put a blade in your ribs and my cock up your ass."

Stretched out on Bodramet's bed, Yoris glanced up at him. "What did you say?"

"If you didn't hear, I'm not going to repeat it," Bodramet growled as he shrugged out of his dirty robes
and dropped them on the floor before joining Yoris on the bed.

Yoris levered himself onto his side. "I want to help you. I have always been willing to help you. What did
you say?"

Bodramet shoved Yoris' face into the coarse black thatch between his legs. "Shut up and suck me. I will
tell you when I'm ready. Otherwise you'll be tattling to someone." He allowed his thoughts to drift enough
to imagine it was Isranon's lips around his cock.

Soon after Bodramet finished with him, Yoris fell asleep, exhausted by the rough handling.

The Presence Pain roared up in Bodramet and he could sense Anksha's nearness as she walked down
the hallway despite the walls between them. Part of him wanted to go to her and beg her to feed and
relieve it. He stifled that.

"I hate you," Bodramet groaned. He needed more freedom, less watching. He examined Yoris' wither
marks without waking him.

Then he stroked his side with a tiny touch of his power, too subtle to be detected. Red welts and streaks
appeared. Bodramet grazed the surface with his fingers and they disappeared. Then he brought them
back again and left them.

Nibari still did the household chores in his chamber, changing linens, sweeping, dusting, and filling his
bath. Bodramet left Yoris drowsing in his bed and went off to select the nibari he wished to discover his
"condition." He chose those in charge of bathing supplies and requested that a bath be drawn. When he
returned to his suite, he settled on the window seat and considered his performance. Two nibari