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“ G o and lay down on the bed. Hands above your head. Close the cuffs around your wrists and wait for me.”

Moargan deliberately didn’t look up and kept on typing his message. But he heard Cyprian shuffling back inside the bedroom. Felt him hesitating, imagined a gasp. There was the faint rustle of sheets as Cyprian climbed onto the bed. The way he situated the sheets so they were carefully wrapped around his naked body.

The metallic clank of the cuffs as he tried them out.

Moargan inwardly groaned at Cyprian’s submission. Now that was a sound he could get used to. Cyprian obeying his every command. Cyprian presenting his lithe, pale body fully to Moargan.

As an Imperial, he almost always got what he wanted. Almost . Because there was one black hole in his heart and a missing one that burned the edges of love. His mother. No one ever spoke of her anymore. She was gone, that’s all Helions needed to know.

Maybe they were right. For the sunrays his mother had bathed the family in, when they were younger, had long faded. All that was left were recollections. Of her brilliant voice as she read for them before bed. Her own made-up stories created by events that happened during the day. How they loved those.

Her voice hadn’t sung for a long time now. Her smile was still there, wrapped in the familiar glow of who she used to be, intermingled with sorrow about the way life had treated her.

Moargan went to visit her every week and read to her. He thought—he felt that she enjoyed the stories. At least it was a comforting thought.

Up until recently, she had been the only person who could make him feel. That had now all changed. It was…shocking, to say the least. It was…beautiful.

Focus . He stared at the message. It was getting late, and his mind made up.

Thank light, Father hadn’t asked any questions, although Moargan didn’t count himself lucky just yet. They would come, followed by the full official ceremonies.

But first things first. They needed to inform the public about this asshole terrorizing their streets, and Helianth and Kylix needed to arrest and punish the motherfucker.

Still…he skimmed over the text and hit send. There was an instant relief that hit him. Tomorrow would be a glorious day. Moargan would officially stake his claim. And that claim had nothing to do with the mark he’d left on the tender skin of his little aeon’s throat back on the spaceship.

Cyprian .

A mysterious name for a mysterious guy. Moargen liked it.

He finished the cigarette, enjoying the faint intoxication of the opium. “You can release the sheets.” He raised an amused eyebrow when Cyprian glared at him. “I like them very much, but I don’t need them right now.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“But I can.” Moargan watched his property flinch when he took a step forward. “Now, stay down.” Taking out the bottle of lube, he walked toward the back of the bed and watched as Cyprian did as he was told, his jaw clenched. He looked beautiful like this. Stubborn, annoyed. Moargan took a deep breath. “Fear is like an ambrosia for someone like me. And you haven’t done what I asked.” The cuffs still dangled in Cyprian’s hand.

“Perhaps we can—” Cyprian hesitated, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Moargan shook his head. “No, little aeon , that’s not going to work. I want you to understand you’re mine now.”

“I understand,” Cyprian muttered.

“By putting yourself on display, cuffed .” Moargan slid both hands on Cyprian’s ankles and spread his legs as he made himself comfortable between his thighs. When Cyprian hesitated, he clicked his tongue. “Perhaps you’d rather have me brand you, too.”

Cyprian shook his head saying no, fumbling with the cuffs. It took him a few tries before he managed to open them blindly, but when they closed around his wrists, he had caught himself. A fucking thrilling thought.

“Well done.” Nuzzling Cyprian’s cock, which was hardening again under the attention, Moargan hummed in delight. “How are you feeling?”

Cyprian gasped at the touch, his shoulders tense as he looked down. “I don’t know.”

Moargan squirted some lube on his fingers and traced a wet line from Cyprian’s balls down to his ass. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Don’t know how you feel about being mine, or is this about what I’m going to do to you?”

Cyprian didn’t reply. He lay still and Moargan inhaled deeply, sniffing the trepidation on Cyprian’s skin as he started circling his hole with wet, sticky fingers. “Have you ever put anything in here?”

“No,” Cyprian whispered.

When Moargan slowly pushed a finger in, Cyprian yelped and his muscles clenched.

“Look at me,” Moargan whispered. His tongue darted out, and he kept Cyprian’s wide stare as he opened his mouth wide, stretching his lips around his property’s shaft. Cyprian let out a moan, hips flexing.

Moargan chose that exact moment to slide his finger further inside, entering that tight channel before Cyprian’s muscles could keep him out. He let out a satisfied hum around Cyprian’s dick.

“It feels weird,” Cyprian complained. His cock didn’t, jolting inside Moargan’s mouth when Moargan let a second finger circle his entrance. “I never wanted to do this with anyone.” Like the last time, Cyprian started babbling. Slobbering around Cyprian’s cock, making it wet and sloppy, Moargan focused on the string of words that left his little aeon’s mouth while slowly pumping him with two fingers in search of his prostate.

“I was always too busy finding ways to get out.”

“There was this guy. He was handsome.”

A long, drawn moan. Moargan had found Cyprian’s point of pleasure. He grinned, increasing suction around Cyprian’s dick, and added a third finger, fucking his hole that had started to loosen up under the blowjob. It was time to get to the real fun.

“I never…I never talked to him,” Cyprian blurted. “I never…Good light, this feels good.” When Moargan slowly pulled back, Cyprian looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, yellow eyes blazing with need. “Don’t—please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Moargan lowered his briefs and let his own cock flop out and hit his flat, defined stomach. The tip was already wet and flushed, the sight of Cyprian, cuffed and trembling, was enough for his dick to throb.

Grabbing hold of Cyprian’s leg, he pushed it up and over his shoulder before giving his other leg the same treatment. It made his chest arch into his stretched arms, still held by the cuffs. “So pretty.” Cyprian’s pink pucker was slick from the lube, hole pulsing, and agape. “That’s how I want you, little aeon . Always ready for me. Sweet and trembling, afraid and hungry.”

Cyprian whimpered, his earlier babbling gone. His wet lips were slack, making Moargan drunk on desire.

“This is mine now. My beautiful property. My eyes. My mind. My cock and my ass.”

Another whimper.

Moargan took hold of his cock and let it glide between Cyprian’s ass cheeks, toying with the searing skin and watching his aeon thrash on the bed. Then he grabbed Cyprian’s hips and pulled him in, using the leverage to start sliding in his cock.

“It hurts,” Cyprian gasped. His muscles tensed up again. “Moargan, stop…”

“Relax, aeon .” Moargan leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “It will hurt more if you tense up.”

“I don’t know if I want this.” Cyprian started panicking and tried to yank his cuffed hands free. “Please.”

Moargan nipped at Cyprian’s lower lip. “You know, my first time, I came before I could get in.”

Cyprian stopped thrashing to narrow his yellow gaze at him. “What do you mean?”

Moargan grinned. “I was so worked up. I’d been horny for the guy for weeks, and when I finally had him in my bed, and he sucked my dick, I was…woof.”

Cyprian gave him a hesitant chuckle. “What did he say?”

Moargan slid his dick a little further inside his tight channel. “He was disappointed, to say the least. And mean. What an asshole, no clue what I ever saw in the guy.”

Cyprian’s muscles relaxed when his chuckle became more convincing, and Moargan didn’t stop until he crossed the entirety of that tight tunnel and bottomed out.

“He told me I was a bad lover and that he should have known.”

“That’s mean.” Cyprian’s eyes blazed with annoyance.

“Very mean.” Moargan slowly gave them an experimental thrust of his hips.

Cyprian hissed and looked down to where their bodies were connected. His arms slumped back in their restraints, accepting their fate. “Are you—inside of me?”

“I am little aeon. Stay relaxed. This will get better soon.”

They watched each other.

Cyprian exhaled, took in another breath of air, and nodded.

“Did you see how I punished that guy?”

Another nod.

“That’s because I can do whatever the fuck I want. So when I say you’re mine, whose are you?” Slowly Moargan pulled out, only to push back in. “Well?” He started nice and easy, wanting Cyprian to breathe past the discomfort and relax.

“Yours.” Cyprian gasped in euphoria, and Moargan knew his cock had brushed Cyprian’s prostate.

“Say it again,” he growled, speeding up the rolls of his hips until Cyprian welcomed each thrust with a delicious moan.

“Yours.” Cyprian’s voice was tight and he arched his back as he fisted his hands. Completely exposed, and vulnerable, and perfect.

“That’s right. Good light, you’re tight,” Moargan groaned. This was ecstasy. Squeezing Cyprian’s thighs, he started thrusting ruthlessly, short and deep, led by the rhythm of Cyprian’s heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His little aeon moaned and the sound drove him mad. Moargan doubled his efforts, sweat forming on his forehead as he looked down to where they were connected. Cyprian’s dick bounced on his stomach, hard and leaking, his arms bound above his head, useless. His face was flushed, wet lips agape and his eyes squeezed shut.

Grabbing hold of Cyprian’s dick, he worshipped the way Cyprian moaned in longing. A long, filthy moan spilled .

“Are you going to come for me, aeon ?”

Cyprian’s eyes opened and his entire body tensed up. Their gazes met and a sensation of electricity filled the room. Moargan’s mouth fell open, sweat dripping down his temples as he kept up the pace, feeling his own orgasm approaching. A lightbulb exploded, and then Cyprian’s molten eyes turned golden and he bellowed, cock erupting with release.

It made Moargan’s orgasm rattle his insides. Ropes of come shot inside Cyprian’s hole and Moargan milked himself with sloppy thrusts until he’d emptied himself completely. Only then did he drop Cyprian’s legs and collapse beside him, hands finding the cuffs to release Cyprian from his restraints.

“Good light,” Cyprian whispered as he moved onto his side, away from Moargan, and he rubbed his wrists. “I need—can I please—I feel weird. Like my ass has been drummed with a massive rod.”

“Well, it has.” Moargan chuckled when Cyprian let out a snort. Did he want to cuddle? Moargan wondered. It had been his first time after all. But Cyprian didn’t look like he wanted a hug. Now that the high was wearing off, he looked closed-off and itchy, his defenses back up.

“Want to finish that beer?” Moargan joked. “It might be warm now.”

“No,” Cyprian grimaced. Then he rolled himself off the bed, wincing as he stood up to his full height. Naked. He ignored Moargan’s appreciative whistle with a delicate sniff. “Can I please take a shower?”

“Do you have to ask me for permission?”

Cyprian hesitated. “I don’t know. Do I?”

“No.” Moargan gestured nonchalantly toward the bathroom. “Do whatever you like. You live here now.”

Swinging his long legs out of bed, Moargan didn’t wait for Cyprian to get out of the bathroom and put on some clothes. Now that he had him where he wanted, Moargan didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable by crowding him right now.

Without a word, he closed the bedroom door behind him, then padded toward the kitchen in nothing but his pair of sleeping pants and a tight tank.

“You look like you had a good night.” Yure sat on one of the stools, rolling a glass of whiskey in his hand. “First some violence, and then the reward it deserved.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You can say that.” Moargan set the bottles of beer back on the counter. “The guy needed to burn though. My brother doesn’t always play his part with conviction, so he can use some help.” Branding the thief felt good. Cathartic even.

“This way, Helianth will have his fair share during the Aureate ,” Yure agreed.

“My thoughts.” Moargan joined Yure at the bar, accepting the glass his friend slid over. “Have you checked that chip yet?”

Yure nodded. “Theo wasn’t lying. It’s secured with off-planet technology, so it will take Aviel a bit longer to gain access. He just texted me. Unless Cyprian wants to help us decode his chip?”

“As if that’s going to happen.” Moargan took a drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Has everything been confirmed for tomorrow?”

“Yes. Live press conference at eight in the morning. You don’t have to be present.”

“Sweet.” Moargan finished his drink. “More cuddle time for me then.’

Yure scrunched up his nose. “I do not want to hear the details.” He grabbed the bottle and filled up their glasses. “So, he’s a refugee then.”

“So he says.”

“And you believe him?”

Moargan considered the question. Did he believe Cyprian? His body did. This weird as fuck thrumming in his chest had settled the moment his property had spilled those words. But his brain was working overtime. Of course, it was plausible that he had been raised in foster care. Though it was questionable that, from all the planets in their solar system, he came from Helion. But not impossible. “I haven’t quite decided,” he said truthfully. “Although it explains his skittishness. If he indeed is a refugee, he has reason to believe that I would send him back.”

“You could check with Tulniri authorities. See if they confirm his version.”

Moargan would never do that, and they both knew it. There was no way he would even consider sending Cyprian back. No, sooner or later, the truth would come out. The teasing was just what Moargan needed. It was the Dariux inside of him.

“Go and see your father with him,” Yure proposed. “After tomorrow he’ll be all over you anyway.”

“Yeah,” Moargan breathed. He wanted Cyprian to meet Father. And Mother, though he didn’t admit that out loud. “If he believes he’s originally from here, but was adopted, perhaps Zimeon knows more about it.”

His father’s right hand was the leader of all Helion laboratories.

“And have someone replace a light bulb in my room tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Moargan grinned when his friend raised his brows. “It exploded at the exact moment.” It had been spectacular.

“At the exact moment?” Yure echoed.

“Hmm.” Moargan downed the whiskey in one bitter gulp. “Alright, I’m off to bed. Can’t leave my company alone for too long.” He wiggled his brow, laughing when Yure flipped him off with a sarcastic grunt. “Make sure that Vandor’s boys keep their eyes on him tomorrow. He lives here now. ”

Yure eyed him with a thousand questions. Finally, he shrugged. “Before I forget, we need to work on your father’s list of biofarms. You know, the credit reports?”

Moargan grunted. “He always gives me the most inspiring tasks.”

Yure laughed. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Moargan strolled back through the darkness without worry. He had night vision, a special enhancement that had been offered to Helion’s elite.

Slowly pushing the door to his bedroom open, he was only half surprised to find the bed empty. It took him less than ten minutes of searching through closets and rooms, to find Cyprian. Fast asleep on the floor of the guest room-turned-into-studio, he was wrapped in a pair of his own sleeping pants and an oversized t-shirt. Of course.

Vandor had brought Cyprian’s stuff here, including his clothes. Well, he’d have to get rid of those. Moargan liked him enveloped in his garments.

In front of Cyprian laid his sketchpad, the pencil case open and filled with charcoal pencils of all shapes.

Cyprian had drawn Umbral Park. He had sketched the fountain and the row of apple trees. The string of daisies looked painfully beautiful, even in their blurred status. When Moargan took a closer look, he cursed. Cyprian had cried when he had drawn those. The realization made his stomach clench with this newfound bewilderment.

“Wake up.” He shook Cyprian’s shoulders. He would not be left out of his aeon ’s thoughts and feelings.

Cyprian moaned sleepily, eyes squinting when they slowly opened. He smiled sweetly at Moargan, muttering something unintelligible at his dreams. Then he blinked some more and the smile disappeared. “Huh?”

“You fell asleep in the wrong room. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Moargan pulled on Cyprian’s arms as he helped him back to the bedroom.

“What…what are you talking about?”

The impending confusion made his hands itch. He wanted to hurt something, someone . Needed it. His cock thickened with want. “Come here,” Moargan instructed once they climbed onto the bed. Cyprian was fully awake now, rapid heartbeat smoothing Moargan’s arousal. Stretching his widened legs, Moargan pulled his little aeon between his thighs and lowered his pants. “I told you I want you in my bed.”

Cyprian’s eyes darted from Moargan’s face down to his erection. “I fell asleep,” he muttered.

“I don’t care what happened. You were not in my bed. Suck it, aeon .”

Cyprian jerked his gaze up, pupils blown but gaze filled with indignation. Moargan cocked an eyebrow. This was new. “I am sorry for falling asleep,” Cyprian hissed, not sounding sorry.

“You’re forgiven. Now, suck.” He didn’t wait for his property’s retort, instead grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down and onto his leaking cock. He groaned when he felt himself sink into the tight heat of Cyprian’s mouth, smiling only faintly when his little aeon looked up with a glower. “Fuck, lover, you’re so good.”

He used his grip on Cyprian’s neck to bob his head up and down, picking a rhythm as he used him as the perfect fuck tool. Cyprian gagged when his crown hit the back of his throat, and spit started dribbling down the corners of his lips. “That’s it,” Moargan praised. “You’re doing so good for me. No more sleeping in the guestroom, right?”

Cyprian mumbled something in reply, the vibration causing a pleasant thrum in Moargan’s gut. He laughed, pushing and pulling Cyprian’s mouth faster now. “I can’t hear you, beautiful, your mouth is full of my cock.”

Cyprian’s eyes flashed, but the yellow irises had turned into a fine layer surrounded by large, dilated pupils. He was enjoying himself.

That was enough for Moargan to lose himself. Jerking up his hips, he moaned when Cyprian gagged again, pulling him off until his lips were tightly enveloped around his cockhead. And then he came, pouring his come in Cyprian’s mouth, white-hot desire licking inside his veins. His high felt amazing. “Clean it all up, little aeon .”

Cyprian lapped at his spent shaft, until there was nothing left.

“Good boy.” Moargan patted Cyprian’s head and chuckled when he got a scowl in return. “Now, come on, let’s sleep. It’s late.”

Cyprian didn’t say anything, just gave him a cold stare, but he let himself be spooned into Moargan’s chest as they lay on their side.

It didn’t take him long to pant desperately as Moargan slowly jerked his stiff cock. “You liked that, didn’t you?” He mumbled in Cyprian’s ear.

Cyprian didn’t reply.

“Are you upset now?”

Cyprian’s cock jerked, but he didn’t say anything.

Moargan chuckled, lowering his head to nip at the tender spot on Cyprian’s neck, biting until he drew blood. When he sucked over the mark, soothing the sting, his property moaned.

Moargan let go of Cyprian’s dick, grinning when Cyprian’s hips ground the air for any friction. “Nuh uh. Not tonight. It’s late, and you still need to work on your poor manners. Sleep now, beautiful.”