Riley's concentration was fragmented, and Kry was beginning to get pissed off. He tried to maintain a sense of perspective - Riley had a lot of legitimate reasons to be anxious and distracted, from a Sith lord plotting his death to the looming prospect of a promotion Kryos knew he didn't want - but his feelings whispered to him that his lover, his sub, should be giving him his complete and undivided attention. If he wasn't, their small corner of the universe had tilted off its axis and it was Kryos' job to set it right... to set him right. What he owned, he cared for; that was one reason among many that he'd achieved such stability in the seething chaos of Sith society.
A true master always took care of his tools.
They were slow-sparring, drilling a few familiar sequences, and though Riley's body knew the movements his heart just wasn't in it. His reactions were slow when Kryos abruptly changed the sequence on him, and though he managed to block Kry's strike, it was a clumsy effort that misdirected the force of his attack. Kry's practice blade smacked painfully against his shin, and Riley winced.
Irritated, Kryos whapped him on the top of the head with the other practice sword, and Riley yelped.
"< I'm insulted, >" Kry snapped. "< Is this how you fight in the field, with your mind half a world away? Focus on where you are and what you're doing or your corpse will wind up rotting in some back-world swamp. >"
Riley showed his teeth and smacked Kryos' swords away, thrusting hard with his staff and forcing Kryos back a half-step. His attack was more emotional than focused, and while drawing strength from passion was a core piece of Sith philosophy, it never paid to forget one's training - striking from the heart was dramatic but sloppy. Kry turned his retreat into a sweeping parry, pivoted around Riley's staff until he could slip right past his guard, and smacked him on the back of the head with the hilt of the practice-blade. The blow carried enough force to knock Riley forward a little, and Kry pressed the attack by planting his foot on Riley's hip as he spun and kicking him down to the floor.
He couldn't find his balance and landed hard, the breath whooshing out of him as he landed. Kry showed his sharpened teeth in a snarl.
"< Disgraceful. Should I make this a fight for your life? Would that gain your full attention? >" he mocked viciously as he drove his heel into the floor where Riley's skull had rested a nanosecond earlier. Riley rolled away; he sensed Kry's intent the same way they sensed any passion on each other: through the roiling caress of the Force. He knew Kryos wasn't kidding. A beat-down was coming. The only thing he didn't quite know was how Kry meant to end it, but when he looked into the Overseer's gleaming red eyes he saw the heat smoldering there and some small part of him decided there was no point dragging his heels if their destination was the same.
Kryos came on fast and hard, and Riley was off his rhythm. Despite that, he managed to fend him off for a few minutes through pure luck, instinct, and blind trust in The Force. It wasn't like he was trying to lose, after all, but the placement of his feet was always just a little wrong and his movements just a little off-kilter, his center of balance never quite where he wanted it to be, so it was only a matter of time before Kryos used his twin weapons to trap Riley's wrist and twist it, spraining it badly and tearing his staff from numb fingers. Anger flared with the pain and Riley screamed through his teeth, then cut off with a dull 'oof!' as Kryos kicked him viciously into the nearest wall. He didn't have any time to recover before Kryos' fist slammed into his jaw.
It wasn't a friendly blow - several teeth loosened and stars exploded behind his eyes. For a moment, falling to the floor, he couldn't feel his body, but his nerves started firing again just in time for him to sprawl on the thin, hard carpeting. He started to push himself up, but Kryos hit him again, and again, until he huddled on the floor spitting blood and gasping for air. One hand came down on the back of his neck.
"< Do I have your attention now? >" Kryos whispered, knotting his fingers in Riley's hair and slamming his forehead against the floor. Riley wasn't sure he even made a noise in response - he was too busy trying to escape the spots in his vision. Distantly, he felt a warm hand slide under his shirt and the dark lightning that wrapped around his spine brought sensation back to him in a screaming rush. He cried out as tendrils of burning, aching, piercing agony forced his muscles into violent convulsions. Kry's actual touch was gentle - he trailed his fingers lightly up Riley's spine and his Force Lightning lanced into his flesh. He knew from experience how much it hurt. That particular combination of agonies drove most species to their knees. The difference with Riley was that he liked it.
He liked it when the lightning stopped, leaving his whole back throbbing from his neck down to the depths of his core where his kidneys protested the abuse. He liked it when Kryos' hand slid around the curve of his waistband, pressing against his stomach, dipping under and tracing the hard, straining line of his cock through his pants. He liked it when, still dazed and groaning softly as a dozen different aches came home to roost, his pants were ripped open by a twist of strong fingers and roughly yanked down over his hips. Kry paused only long enough to slick himself, then pressed the sharp weight of his elbow against the back of Riley's neck to keep him still while he slowly forced himself inside him. Riley screamed, but there was pleasure and fulfillment in the scream. Kryos knew how to judge the tone of his cries and he smiled fiercely, snapping his hips forward, keeping Riley crushed hard against the floor as he gave him exactly the kind of pain he was craving. Their bodies rocked together with the force of his thrusts. Every impact made Riley shudder, made his nails drag across the carpet, made Kryos hungrier for the sweetness of that total submission. He slipped a hand beneath them and traced his fingers along the hot, hard ridge of Riley's cock, teasing it with a meandering touch before pushing his hand under the tangled folds of Riley's pants. His tight ball sac fell into Kry's palm and Kry pushed his fingers against Riley's taint and applied just a little bit of shock.
Riley came screaming. Kryos held him tight as he bucked, ass tight in the crook of his hips, his fingers still sparking and keeping his hips high at the best angle for both of them. Riley's lean body twisted in pleasure but Kryos kept him still, stripping any vestige of control and forcing him to endure his ecstasy at Kry's indulgence. With just a little attention to the right buttons, Kryos could stretch his lover's orgasms, keeping him high and taut and unable to come down. Sometimes, with proper preparation, he could get him to have two orgasms in quick succession or even three if he was lucky, but tonight he wasn't playing that game. Tonight he just wanted Riley straining and hitching under him as long as he could have it. Only when Riley's orgasm finally died and left him slumped bonelessly against the carpet did Kry lift his hips higher, rut into him, and spill his seed into that tight, throbbing channel with a satisfied groan.
They stayed like that for a long moment, Riley panting wetly against the carpet, Kryos settled back on his heels with Riley's ass tucked into his lap so he didn't have to pull out. When he sensed Riley starting to come back to himself, Kryos withdrew and scooped his skinnier lover into his arms. Of a multitude of reasons he'd invited Riley to spar with him in the privacy of his own quarters, this was a front-runner - they didn't have to go far to make it to the bed.
He settled Riley on the bedspread and left him, trusting he'd stay where he was put until Kry could dig out the appropriate toys. Manacles came first, and Riley's lips, bruised and split and all the more erotic for that, parted softly when Kry fastened them around his wrists and bound him to the bed-frame. He deliberately tested the manacles with his sprained wrist and curses spilled from his mouth in a moan that was half torture and half bliss. Kryos smiled and dragged his fingertips along Riley's lean belly. He was still dressed, technically, so Kry bunched his shirt securely under his armpits, then pulled his pants the rest of the way off and dropped them off the edge of the bed. He liked how that looked, the just-ravished effect it created, but Riley's body was looking far too pristine and unmarked for his taste.
He saw those golden eyes widen when he pulled out the knives, and smiiiiiled.
Riley's feet weren't tied, but he obediently stayed still when Kryos laid his hands on his ankles. Sliding them upward, caressing the length of his legs, he pushed electricity out through his palms and watched Riley arch, groaning, toes curling as the pain followed Kry's hands. Seconds stretched into minutes and Kryos let himself just indulge, rubbing his crackling, sparking hands over his lover's thighs and up over his belly, caressing his chest, pressing his thumbs against his nipples and sending current into his chest, drinking in the texture of his crimson skin and the warmth of his body, the way his too-lean muscles twitched in eager response to the movement of his hands. Riley gasped and cursed, head digging back into the pillow beneath him, undulating on the blankets but never shying from Kry's touch. His cock arched over his belly, leaving glistening smears of precum, betraying his lust, and Kry gave a dark chuckle as he slowly dragged his thumb along the vein on the underside of the shaft. Riley didn't enjoy cock-and-ball torture... that was the one area on his body that he didn't generally appreciate pain or injury. But Kryos had discovered that a light touch went a long way, that a little pain as a tease was okay, and that it was a good way to remind Riley that Kryos would test his boundaries when he damn well pleased because he was in charge.
As long as he didn't go too far, the threat of worse only made Riley more desperate.
He lifted Riley's hips into his lap and slid home into him, forcing his recovering body to open for him again, growling through his teeth as Riley's inner walls convulsed around him. Riley sucked in a sharp breath and then released it in what looked suspiciously like relief. He arched again and Kryos pulled his hips in tight, burying himself to the hilt, earning himself a broken, whispered curse. So slowly this time, rolling his hips in a languid grind, fingers pulsing with electricity sliding over Riley's chest and teasing hardened nipples, skating over the bumps of his ribs. Riley's biceps strained as he pulled at the manacles, and he groaned sharply at the burst of additional pain in his wrist, sucking air through his teeth and giving his hips a twist that pulled an answering groan from Kryos. He picked up one of the knives and pressed his other hand against Riley's belly, sending lightning deep into the larger muscle groups there as he pressed down and dragged the blade diagonally across his chest.
"HA-A!" Riley gasped, shuddering deeply, eyes rolling back, melting into the bedspread except for the muscles Kry's lightning had forced taut. He slid his hand upward, and Riley squirmed to meet it. Thick Sithian blood rolled down the side of his body and stained the bedspread, but Kryos had dark red covers for a reason and he ignored the mess. Balancing the knife on its tip, he slowly dug it into the space between Riley's ribs as his fingertips caressed the line of his jaw and the length of his throat. The tenderness and cruelty of that electrified touch combined with the sharp pierce of the knife made Riley clench hard around him and nearly mewl through his teeth. The sound betrayed how well Kry was playing him - up an eight-note scale and down, hitting all the right spots, the most bittersweet sensations. The knife found his belly next, and Kry dragged the flat of the blade-point from the bottom of his rib-cage down to the iliac crest and teased as if he might go lower, chuckling when Riley's thighs, and ball sac, tightened in response.
He licked the blade clean and set it aside, hitching one of Riley's legs higher as his other hand finally let the lightning die and wrapped around his lover's throat. He squeezed as he increased his pace, slowly, slowly, applying just the right kind of pressure against the underside of Riley's spiked jaw. The soft, strained, open-mouthed noises Riley made had Kry's breath coming heavier. He rubbed his thumb-knuckle hard over the biggest artery and Riley's eyes glazed as the pressure toyed with his ability to stay concious. When Kry hooked his arm around his thigh and wrapped his hand around Riley's cock, it took only a few slow, tight pumps to get him to cum again. With his hips elevated like that, the angle was so perfect Kryos fell right after him, still stroking Riley through his climax as he pushed his cum deeper into his body with deep, grinding thrusts.
Riley's heartbeat was beginning to do dangerous things by the time Kryos released his throat, and his breath rattled when it was freed, but his expression was pure, savaged bliss. Kryos adjusted a little and leaned down, bracing himself over his spent sub, lekku sliding over his shoulders to dangle against Riley's chest as he claimed his mouth in a slow, predatory kiss that tasted of blood and ozone. Riley's fingers finally loosened from the manacle chains and took on a gentle curl against his nail-bitten palms. He managed a dazed and glutted smile that faded into a slack moan when Kryos sucked on his split lip, adding the pressure of sharpened teeth.
"< I suppose I should take care of you, >" Kry murmured. He stroked a possessive hand down Riley's body, mapping the damage - lightning left the most amazing damage, a pattern of delicately-branching veins blackened under Riley's skin, along with a few raw, shiny burns where he'd focused the lightning when he touched him. There was another sound in the small room and Kryos turned just in time for his droid to set his aftercare kit on the bed next to him. A pair of folded washcloths, dampened in warm water, rested on the top.
"Master," TAK-5 intoned with a mechanical bow, and then scurried away like a good servant.
"Thank you." Kryos pulled out and set about cleaning Riley up. He left him bound as he carefully, meticulously tended his injuries and used his set of personal medical devices to repair as much of the damage as possible. Their continued play was conditional upon leaving no lasting injury, and besides, Kryos really didn't want Mira to see exactly how much he put the older Darth's apprentice through. Mira tolerated him, even seemed to like him on occasion, but the Maker only knew what he'd think if he had the details of their sex life. Not that he was likely to ever get any - Riley was more likely to rip his own intestines out and eat them than share a single detail, unless perhaps he was very, VERY drunk, and Kryos knew how to keep his own council.
Of course, Riley had had other lovers, who might talk if persuaded by a Sith of Darth Ra'miran's means. But they'd cross that span when they came to it.
Riley didn't open his eyes until Kryos cupped his face and dabbed a false-flesh sealant over the split in his lip. It would be broken down as it stimulated regrowth and disappear, leaving no scars in its wake, but at the moment it was a stark, new-peach color against Riley's blood-red skin and made him look incredibly young. Kry smiled at him and brushed his thumb over his cheekbone, leaning down to kiss the unharmed side of his mouth. When he'd done as much for the darkening bruises on Riley's cheekbone and eye socket, he finally uncuffed him and used a regenerating scan and anti-inflammatory on his wrist, then wrapped it. It'd be weak in the morning, but usable, and back to normal in the space of a day; a small price to pay for how much he'd enjoyed doing it. Once the wrapping was secure he squeezed it just to hear Riley moan and physically pinned his hands above his head. The sealant on his lip was dry now, so he indulged himself in a long, lingering kiss that left both of them pleasantly breathless and tangled together, lips brushing, breathing the same air. Riley, Force preserve him, looked genuinely happy, if exhausted, and Kryos couldn't deny the warm, peaceful weight of contentment in his belly. Soft feelings like that were dangerous in their way of life, but it was just the two of them tonight, so Kryos let it go. Besides, half the appeal of Riley was that he was exceptionally good at taking care of himself. The trail of bodies stretching behind him from Tattooine to Nar Shadaa to Balmora to Dromund Kaas to Korriban attested to that.
He rolled onto his back and pulled Riley with him, tucking him against his shoulder and hip, his own hand settling possessively on his butt. One of his lekku curled behind Riley's neck and rested on his shoulder. Riley slid into place, fitting his body easily against Kry's with one leg draped over his and an arm curled across his chest. Riley's fingers traced the line of his collarbone and caressed the other lekku, and Kryos nibbled his forehead with an affectionately possessive growl.
"< Larisselle Chatrunis is headlining at the Nexus this week, >" he murmured. "< I know it's not our usual scene, but you'll enjoy it none the less. >"
"Wow, that's like actual culture," Riley sighed, his voice a low, ragged mumble muffled in Kry's chest. "S'gonna be a big event?"
"< Most likely. You needn't worry about discretion, >" he said, rubbing his thumb between two of the protrusions along Riley's jaw line. "< The time for that is past, I think. >"
"Mmm," Riley murmured. "I was thinking I might invite Kuja. Sounds like the kind of thing he'd enjoy. He never gets out," he told Kryos as he shifted against him, stretching a little and then draping more comfortably against his side. "Lariselle's so famous, even he can't turn his nose up too much."
"< It would please your master to see the two of you getting along, >" Kryos allowed fondly.
Riley, predictably, shrugged. "Won't start anything if he doesn't," he muttered. He sounded half-asleep, so Kryos fell quiet and just stroked his fingers through short-cropped hair until his breathing evened out and his caressing fingers fell still against his neck.