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welcoming arousal in Drahka’s eyes. Of that, Viltori had no doubt. However, engaging the consort of the empress in such a way had terrible repercussions for them both. No matter how lustful his dreams or painful his longings, Viltori kept his desire firmly contained. He had no wish to be exiled or killed.
    “As if you would know passion.” Rown rolled his eyes playfully. He strode to the uppermost step, grabbed the bottle of soap and proceeded to smear the liquid over his hairless chest, his arms and his legs. “Ambo waddled after them, but the man was practically running down the hall with Bithia in his arms.” Rown paused. “Can you imagine what that would feel like? Wrapped around his massive chest with his cock buried deep inside? Every step would just plunge the man deeper.”
    Viltori couldn’t quite see that scenario, not when he was almost as big as Drahka himself, but he could see Drahka in numerous positions. Himself in numerous positions. Of course, Viltori always saw Bithia there too. He wanted them both. Shaking the images from his mind, Viltori glanced over at Rown.
    With a meaningful lift of sleek brows, Rown grabbed a handful of hard cock and stroked the soap up and down. For a relatively small man, Rown had a big prick. His penis stood proudly up and out from a thatch of dark hair. Each stroke of his hand hardened him further. One thing about the ungati was their notorious self-control. Rown could stand there and fondle himself all day without climaxing.
    “Tease,” Viltori growled. Below the water, he hardened in response. Unlike Rown, he was not trained in self-denial. At night, in the great sleeping room filled with acolytes, none of them dared to touch themselves. The vast rock-walled room echoed even the slightest sound. Worse, they slept upon cots that squeaked at the barest movement. Ears were ever-vigilant to any fumbling in the dark. Viltori missed the room where the recruits slept. There, at night, beds squeaked, men moaned, and nobody cared. At times, some men turned to each other for comfort, which held no stigma. Though the handlers frowned upon such activity, they turned a blind eye as long as it was mutual.
    “I’m just washing myself,” Rown said with mock innocence.
    Usually Viltori could handle the teasing nature of their banter, but today he was having a difficult time. He hadn’t had an orgasm in several cycles. It seemed everything excited him lately, almost as if he were again an adolescent without a shred of control. Every look, every thought, every feeling hardened Viltori’s cock until it became like a perpetual rock between his thighs.
    Rown licked his lips when he saw what lurked below the water between Viltori’s hairy legs. Even though the hair on his head was light blond, his body hair was dark brown. He’d been told it made a delightful contrast, as if he were innocent day above and sinful night below.
    “I could wash you too,” Rown whispered.
    Viltori would like nothing better. Rown would know just how hard to touch, how fast or slow to go to give him the greatest moment of satisfaction. With lips, teeth and tongue Rown could have him begging for more within moments. Toss the man’s educated hands into the deal and Viltori would become his willing slave.
    However, if anyone caught them…
    Stepping down into the water, Rown rinsed himself, then swam near to Viltori. Darting his gaze carefully about, Rown tossed a hank of black hair off his forehead with a flick of his head. “There is none here but us.” Cupping one hand around Viltori’s shaft, Rown stroked him with slow, almost lazy movements as his black hair slid slowly down his face, obscuring his gaze. “It’s early yet and we have time.”
    Viltori wanted to say no.
    Viltori tried to say no.
    Cursing those already cast to the nothingness, Viltori shut his mouth and didn’t utter so much as a murmur of protest when his friend stroked his cock.
    Rown’s hand felt so good and the whispered words