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he breathed into his ear were so wicked that Viltori’s voice literally stuck in his throat. Lacking any will to struggle, Viltori surrendered. With a push here and a shove there, Rown guided Viltori to a higher step so that his aching cock thrust out of the water. With one quick look around, Rown smiled up at him and took his entire length into his mouth.
    Biting his bottom lip to hold back a cry of pleasure, Viltori clung to the step, holding himself just at the waterline so Rown could lift and lower his hips, moving his cock in and out of his mouth. Bobbing his body in the water, Rown worked his prick leisurely. Stars exploded in his vision as he climaxed. Rown sucked hard until Viltori was utterly drained, then released him.
    “Poor denied acolyte.” Chuckling, Rown took his hands off Viltori’s hips, lowering him into the water, which felt freezing cold after the intense heat of Rown’s mouth. “You are pleasured so rarely, you go off so quickly.”
    When a group of female servants entered, babbling excitedly about the empress and her new consort, Viltori had no chance for a comeback. They didn’t even glance over at him and Rown because they were far too focused on sorting and cleaning their owner’s clothing as they gossiped. Gossamer curtains shielded Viltori and Rown from the women on the other side of the tishiary .
    “Perhaps next time you will last longer.” Rown exited the pool, his still-hard cock bouncing with each step. Playfully shaking his erection free of water, Rown slipped on his plain brown robe, then cinched it closed with a black sash. Black because he was, after all, the property of a mighty Harvester. The color of a servant’s sash indicated the rank of his master or mistress. All servants wore brown robes. Each was individual only by the color of his or her sash. Among the servants, Rown was unique. His black sash was trimmed in crimson, indicating his mistress was once an empress. Rown belonged to two of the most powerful citizens on Diola and yet he was not a conceited fool. Rown was a considerate young man dedicated to his god and his master. Rown did not violate his personal, professional, or proscribed rules by sucking Viltori’s cock to a spectacular climax. Rown actually lived up to the very spirit of his caste. Ungati gave pleasure. Rown lived to give pleasure unto those he would willingly serve. That Rown chose to give pleasure to Viltori was a beautiful gift, but a gift Viltori could not return. No matter what, Viltori could not reciprocate a climax to Rown. Ungati climaxed only by their own hand and only for their god.
    As he walked away, Viltori wondered what his master, Sterlave, would do if he found out Rown was giving away his favors. Would he care? He didn’t think Sterlave would punish Rown, because the man was kind. Still, Viltori thought it wise to keep their liaison a secret. Not that he had anyone he could tell. Sighing, Viltori replayed the encounter in his mind, then deliberately smiled as he silently thanked Rown for his generous present.
    Tension that had lurked in his shoulders for cycles was gone. The ache in his balls receded. After a quick dunk, he rose out of the water and dried himself with a rough towel. Now he felt he could face another day of temple rites and if by chance his student came for instructions, Viltori might just be able to keep his mind on his work and off the spectacular bulge in Drahka’s pants.

Chapter Four
    “I wish to meet this teacher of yours.” Bithia considered her consort over the string of covered platters that lined the table. She’d already filled her plate twice and probably would do so again. Never had she woken so ravenous.
    “Viltori?” He’d barely touched what little food he put on his plate. Mostly he sat in studied silence, his gaze downcast, his shoulders slumped.
    “If that is his name.” She wished to know exactly what this fool had taught her bondmate. Whoever heard of a woman lying utterly passive while a