Prince's Master (Calluvia's Royalty 4)

Idhron’s face went blank. He averted his gaze. “Love is not something I’m capable of feeling,” he said. “If you had your memories, you would know that.”

Eridan narrowed his eyes. “Oh, really?” he said pleasantly. “Then why do you want to restore your apprentice’s memories so badly? If all you feel is superficial lust?”

Idhron’s jaw worked. He said nothing.

Eridan waited.

At last, Idhron said stiffly, “I find that I dislike living in a world where you do not remember me.” Something rueful and self-deprecating appeared in his telepathic presence. “Apparently, I am that selfish. I need you to need me. Therefore, calling your… love for me unrequited is not accurate. It is very much requited.”

Eridan found himself softening a little. Although it wasn’t exactly a love confession, he could sense that it was as open as this man would be with him. After all, he was not Castien Idhron’s apprentice at the moment. He was just someone wearing his face. Maybe when he got his memories back, he would be able to make him talk more openly, but…

And that was how Eridan realized that he had already made the decision, for better or for worse.

“All right,” he said. “You may restore my memories.” The elation that rolled off Idhron made him feel a little less apprehensive. Whatever this man felt for him, Eridan clearly was important to him. That was something. Eridan hoped he wouldn’t regret this decision once he got his memories back. He still didn’t really think he would want to go back to the Order, but he would still like to have all of his memories. No heartbreak could possibly be worse than this wrong, hollow feeling inside him.

Idhron sat down on the couch next to him. He just stared at Eridan for a long moment before lifting his hand and laying it below Eridan’s ear. His thumb brushed against his telepathic point and Eridan inhaled sharply, a shiver running through him.

Push and Idhron was in his mind.

Eridan had thought it would feel invasive.

He had been wrong: it wasn’t invasive enough. The moment Idhron’s mind entered his, it felt like it awakened some starved thing inside him that reached out for him hungrily and dragged him deeper inside. Someone groaned, but Eridan wasn’t sure who. It didn’t matter; it felt so good, beyond good, the way this man fit inside him, the way his telepathic presence filled every corner of Eridan’s mind. And yet, somehow, it wasn’t enough.

“More,” Eridan begged, trying to pull him deeper into him, needing to feel him deeper, inside his aching, hungry core.

“Eridan, no,” Idhron said, but his mind was pulsing with tension, as if he was stopping himself by sheer force of will.

“Please. Master.”

There was a roar inside his mind, a storm of emotions and wants that were not his own as Idhron let go of his control, pushing deeper inside him, like a predator closing in on its prey.

Eridan could only relax and open up, pleasure like no other filling his entire being as Idhron’s mind brushed over his pleasure centers as he slid deeper and deeper inside him, touching him, stroking him, soothing him. The moment Idhron touched his aching, needy core Eridan cried out, burying his face against Idhron’s throat. He felt arms around him, strong and so familiar, holding him tightly as his body shook with pleasure that was difficult to describe. He felt both overstimulated and satisfied as he cradled this man deep inside his core.

He floated on the cloud of pleasure for what felt like forever and not long enough.

At last, he felt Idhron sigh. “This was highly inadvisable.”

“Don’t care,” Eridan murmured with a small smile, nuzzling against his throat. A part of him, the part that could still think beyond good-right-mine, was kind of horrified that he was practically in the High Adept’s lap.

He found it difficult to care.

“We got sidetracked,” Idhron said, putting a finger under Eridan’s chin and tipping his face up. His blue eyes were significantly softer now. “Now I will restore your memories. You will be good and will not distract me again. Understood?”

Eridan nodded. He could be good. He liked the idea of being good.

When Idhron pressed his fingers against his telepathic point and slipped inside him again, this time it wasn’t as overwhelming. The pleasure and the need were still there, but they weren’t as debilitating, because he already felt satisfied.

Eridan closed his eyes and just relaxed, quietly enjoying Idhron’s presence in his mind. It was fascinating: the confidence and familiarity with which this man navigated his mental landscape. And care, he noted with wonder. Idhron was very careful, his mental touch soothing and never hurtful as he trudged through Eridan’s memories.

“Do you remember the theory behind restoring memories?” Idhron said quietly as he worked.

Eridan shrugged. “Just the basics that we were taught as initiates. I don’t remember anything you may have personally taught me.”