by Renee Rose
She gave another muffled hum of excitement.
“Granit, do you want to kiss her pretty pussy?” Damon offered. He was their director of action, but so different from Sankro, who’d been the most dominant of her former mates. Sankro had taken first, then walked away. Never cared about anyone’s pleasure but his own. If he caught one of the other males taking her, he inserted himself into the scene—claiming another orifice or demanding the one he wanted be vacated. Sometimes he fought the other males for using her. They’d lived like wild animals on Zandia.
Someone shoved her knees apart. She cried out when a tongue dragged through her pussy, hot and wet.
“You like that, beautiful?” Damon asked.
“Mmm hmm.”
“When you like something, you suck harder, understand?”
She sucked harder.
Damon groaned and cursed. “Slap her breasts, Laake.”
“Slap them?” Laake asked doubtfully. “Isn’t her punishment over?”
“Try it. We’ll know if she likes it by how she—veck!”
She’d already taken a harder pull, excited by the discussion. Laake slapped. Granit kissed. She sucked.
Damon plunged in and out. She thought it might have been his fingers that pulled and pinched her nipples between slaps, but she couldn’t be sure. Liquid heat poured through her body.
Granit inserted a finger or two inside her as he sucked on her most sensitive nubbin. She moaned around Damon’s cock.
“She vecking loves that. Make her come,” Damon commanded.
Granit finger-vecked her until she arched off the sleep disk, another orgasm ripping through her. Her muscles squeezed around Granit’s digits. She sucked so hard her jaw muscles ached.
“Oh, Eslyn,” Damon crowed. “Your sexy mouth sucks so good.” He grasped the sides of her ribs and used her as his veck-hole, plunging in and out. “Yes, veck, yes!” He pulled out, painting her breasts with his rainbow-hued cum.
“Mmm.” She trailed her fingers through his seed, drawing patterns with it over her skin.
“Wash tube,” Damon panted when he’d finished.
Immediately, someone scooped her up—Granit again—and carried her into the washroom, where he propped her on shaky legs in the wash tube.
Damon pushed Laake in behind her and shut the door. Laake cradled the back of her head as water poured into the tube. He pressed her back against the wall, his youthful muscled body flattening hers. She expected a hard kiss, but instead, he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you all right, sweet female?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Water covered their waists, their chests. She held her breath as the level rose above her head, then reversed direction and drained. A light, citrusy oil sprayed, coating her body.
“Damon, you asshole!” Laake shouted.
Damon laughed.
“What?” She had no idea what had happened.
“Now I’m going to smell like a female.” Ah. The oil.
“Nah, you’ll just smell like you’ve been vecking a female, which you have,” Damon replied. Warm air blew across their bodies, drying their skin and hair. The door slid open and Damon stood there, smirking. “My turn.”
Granit beckoned her to him in the bedchamber. He dressed her in her clothes, like a doll or a small child. Her eyes smarted. After so many hard years roughing it, being taken care of, there in the lap of luxury, was divine. “Go and rest. Laake will get you something to drink.” He gave her ass a light slap.
But the door buzzed and a hologram of her children, accompanied by a human female hovered above it. Her stomach seized in knots. Here they were—the beings who meant the most to her. Would her new masters let her see them?
“Laake—my young. May I please—” But before she even finished the question, Granit strode past her and pressed his hand against the panel.
The door slid open and Alyx and Ren tumbled in, tugging their wailing three-cycle-old sister, Teena, between them.
“Mama!” the tot wailed, running into her arms.
As if on cue, Sol fussed in his hovering cradle. Laake went to attend to him.
“Forgive me.” The pregnant human—Bayla, if she remembered right from when she’d picked up the children that morning—remained in the doorway. “She was fine all morning, but now she seems overtired. Do Zandian young nap? I know you require less sleep than my kind.”
Eslyn swayed, soothing the weeping child. “Yes, yes, my youngest two still do.”
“I think she also just missed you. And it’s all so new here. All the young must be overstimulated.”
Damon strode forward, magnificently taking charge, as always.
Veck. Would he demand the children leave?
“It’s all right, Bayla. We’ll take the young now. Thank you.”
Thank the one true Zandian star.
Bayla dropped a curtsy. “Just let me know if you want me to come back and get them again later. There are at least thirty beings on the pod who are waiting for their turn to entertain our little guests.” She winked.
“Thank you.” Damon smiled at the dark-haired young human, whose belly swelled beyond her breasts in front.
A stab of irrational jealousy ran through her. She had no claim on Damon, but she wanted to call the female back and tell her to stay the veck away from her males.
The door swished closed. “I’m sorry.” Eslyn split a gaze between Damon and Laake, who’d picked Sol out of his bed.
Damon touched her back, his warm hand stroking soothingly. “Don’t apologize. We’re probably all due a nap,” he said. “Let’s go into their room.”
“I don’t nap,” Alyx asserted.
She stiffened, trying to warn him with a look. He should know better than to protest anything these males told them.
But Damon only quirked a brow. “No? I’ll make you a deal. If you’re really quiet and let your sisters nap, I’ll take you to see a real battleship when they wake up. What’s your name?”
“Alyx.”
“Alyx, how old are you?”
Alyx looked to her. He didn’t know how old he was—it wasn’t something anyone but she had tracked back on Zandia.
“He’s six sun cycles. Ren is five, and Teena is three.”
“Do we have an agreement, Alyx?” Damon opened the door between her chamber and the children’s.
Her son nodded. Teena snuffled in her shoulder, already half asleep, but Laake hadn’t succeeded in consoling the baby, who only grew more agitated having her within sight and not being in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again as Damon swept them all into the other chamber where her young shared a giant hover disk.
“Eslyn.” Damon’s voice held the timbre of command and she swung around, holding her breath. “Don’t apologize. The young will get to know us soon enough. And we’ll learn how to better help you with them.”
Her heart stuttered. Help her? Was he serious? And he’d made it sound like they planned to keep her. And the young.
It was too good to be true.
“Who are you?” Ren asked the males as she climbed onto the hover disk and snuggled against Eslyn’s side.
Laake handed her the fussing baby and she put him to her breast, while soothing Teena to sleep on her lap.
“They’re Mama’s guards,” Alyx answered sagely. “They’re responsible for protecting her.”
“That’s right,” Damon said, meeting her eye over the children’s heads. “We’re here to keep you and your mama safe.”
Her eyes smarted with tears at the kindness he showed in not telling the boy the truth—that she was their prisoner, sentenced to their reconditioning.
For now, for this moment, she’d believe, along with Alyx, that they were her warriors, keeping her safe from the males she wanted out of her life forever.
Chapter 3
“Excuse me, my lord.” Damon stood outside Zander’s meeting room two planet rotations later and cleared his throat. He’d left
Granit and Laake in a scene of domestic bliss with their female and her young—the children climbing all over Granit as Eslyn lounged beside Laake on the settee.
He and the other two males had each had her twice during the night and that morning, leaving all four relaxed and content. But now he had to ensure their bliss went beyond the next few planet rotations. He needed to eliminate the threats to their future.
“You may enter.”
He walked in and bowed.
“Report.”
He hadn’t been summoned to report, but he wasn’t surprised to have one demanded. Zander had been reluctant to take the role of sovereign to their species at a young age, but he’d done it well.
“The female has been punished. We find her agreeable.”
Zander’s lips twitched, but he was too refined to make a lewd comment. “And now you’re wondering if you can keep her?”
“That’s not why I’m here, but yes, my lord. We want very much to keep her.”
“What do you know about her previous mates?”
He hesitated as the sharp spike that had been prodding his solar plexus from the beginning drove in. “My lord, I know little. I’d hoped to learn more from you on that subject.”
The prince gave him one of his inscrutable looks. “I see.”
When Zander didn’t go on, Damon cast his gaze about the room, as if the right words might be projected there, hidden behind one of Princess Lamira’s many potted Earth plants or on the wall above the row of windows. “Have you set a date for their sentencing?”
“I will question them tomorrow.”
“And are you inclined—”
“I’ve made no decisions yet.” Zander used a cutting tone, designed to let Damon know he’d overstepped.
He bowed, but still dared to ask the question sizzling a hole right through his mind. “My lord, does Eslyn’s future depend on your decision about her mates?”
“It must,” Zander answered immediately, causing Damon’s heart to plummet five floors. “They are the sires of her young. Or at least one of them is. Do you know which child belongs to which male?”
His tongue went dry, as if coated with dust. How could it be that he’d spent two planet rotations with Eslyn and didn’t know such a basic, important fact? Because he’d been too busy putting his dick everywhere it fit in that luscious body of hers. “No, my lord. I can ask.”
Zander swiped two fingers through the air. “I’ll find out tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”
Veck. The meeting had left him with more worries than he’d had going in. He needed to talk to Granit and Laake because their hours with Eslyn could be numbered.
He headed back to her chamber, but the chatter of children’s voices coming down the corridor had him slowing his steps, a smile lifting his mouth. It had only been two planet rotations but he’d kill or die for her young. For their young.
He didn’t give a veck if they were sired by her previous mates. They were under his protection now, which meant they were his. He knew Granit and Laake felt the same way. They were like a three-headed monster—individual faces of one combined energy. The brain, the brawn, the heart, all working toward a common cause: Eslyn.
It was as if their very existence—their oddball cohesion into an indivisible threesome had been solely for the purpose of claiming Eslyn. Because he could only reason that Prince Zander gave Eslyn to them precisely because they were three. They matched the number of mates she’d had and he wanted to spread the wealth that was Zandian female to as many of his loyal guard as possible. Zander would know he and his chosen brothers would have no problem sharing.
In some ways it seemed a miracle they had yet to quarrel over her. But while he may feel possessive of her with other males, his brothers didn’t count. They were an extension of him. Besides, they’d made an unspoken pact to keep their focus on Eslyn’s needs and desires, above their own.
He rounded the corner to find the children racing down the corridor, accompanied by Talia, Lamira, and Bayla. “Watch out!” he shouted with mock danger and swooped Teena up and around in a circle. She giggled and squealed, “Again!” when he put her down.
“No, me,” Ren said. “Can you do me, Master Damon?”
He caught the child around the waist and flipped her into the air to land on his shoulder, where he twirled. She stretched out her arms like an aviatory beast and sang out, “Wheee!” He reversed the direction of her flip, returning the disoriented child to her feet. “Where are you headed?”
“To the Great Hall,” Lamira answered.
“Have fun. We’ll see you later.”
“Farewell,” Alyx said somberly.
Damon lifted his arm at a right angle in the traditional Zandian greeting. It broke his heart to see such a young child so wary, his joy of life already dampened. Ren, too, sometimes retreated within herself. If it had something to do with their fathers, he needed to find out.
Even more determined, he made his way back to Eslyn’s chamber, where the four had been staying since the prince’s decree.
“What did you find out?” Laake asked when he entered. He tilted his head toward the washroom. “Eslyn’s washing up.”
“Prince Zander said he’ll call her ex-mates up tomorrow and his decision on her future depends on theirs.”
Granit and Laake both mirrored his frown. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Granit said.
“Nor do I,” Damon agreed.
“Does that mean if he releases them, Eslyn will be returned to their keeping?” Laake asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We need to figure out a way to keep that from happening.”
“But would he release all of them? It sounded like he’d already determined one of them to be the main culprit of wrongdoing.”
Eslyn stepped out, skin flushed from her shower. “What is it? Is this about Sankro?”
Damn. How much had she heard?
“Yes.” Better to be honest with her. “Zander will question your mates tomorrow. He may question you, as well.”
A shutter slid in place over her face. She nodded mutely.
“Eslyn—who sired the children? Do you know?” Damon asked.
“No. I cannot tell. All four resemble me, not their fathers. We never questioned it. It worked out better if we just assumed they belonged to all of us.”
Jealousy stabbed him right in the gut, but he swallowed it back down. Had Eslyn been happy with her mates? Or at least one of them? If so, it wouldn’t be right to take her from that, especially if the males were absolved of their crime against Talia.
He tried again, despite the pain. “Were you… closer with one over another?”
She hesitated. Her expression betrayed nothing—her emotions well-hidden from them. “They are each different.” She shrugged. “Different strengths and weaknesses.”
Veck. Same as he and his brothers.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Well, the prince may ask your input as to their future. Be prepared for it.” He didn’t dare look at Laake or Granit, knowing they shared his worry.
They might lose Eslyn far too soon.
Eslyn crept out of bed the next planet rotation with a tight band of tension squeezing her head. She hadn’t slept a wink, and it wasn’t because her masters had kept her up too late using her body. In fact, they’d settled for once each and had been particularly sweet in soothing her afterward.
Not that they weren’t always attentive.
But she’d heard what Damon had said the previous planet rotation. Prince Zander’s decision on her future depends on her ex-mates’. Which meant she needed to do something to be sure she and their young didn’t wind up back with them.
She had an idea, but it was flimsy at best. It involved speaking with Elit or Banf, away from Sankro. Striking a deal with those males so that she and the young could walk free.
But how to get to them?
That part, she just didn’t know.
“Where are you going, beautiful?” Granit cau
ght her around the waist and pulled her back to the sleep disk, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.
“Mmm.” The pull to these males was so strong. She’d give anything to just sink into the nest of their bodies and believe they would keep her and her young safe and loved for the rest of their lives.
But sadly, that wasn’t the reality. They were all subject to the dictates of the prince. And she had three other males who would lay claim to her, body and spirit.
Veck.
Granit’s huge palm stroked down her side and gripped one ass cheek. “It’s too early to sneak away, little flower. We haven’t even made you scream yet.”
Despite the occupation of her thoughts, his words brought her body to life, the memory of all the different ways these males had of pulling cries from her—all good—sending blood rushing to the pertinent places.
The night before, Damon had spent an eternity feasting between her thighs, bringing her to climax after climax while the other two men pinched and slapped and caressed the rest of her body until she’d begged them to stop. Only then did they penetrate her, Granit vecking her from behind as she sucked Laake’s cock, then Damon taking her against the wall of the wash tube afterward.
Pleasing her masters again that morning would only serve any plan she hoped to execute. That’s what she told herself, anyway. It wasn’t because her body had begun to hum and heat, a fever building that would require all three of them to cool. And if she happened to conceive one of these males’ young during this breeding season? Stars, she hoped she would! They were much more worthy sires than her old mates.
She crawled over the heap of men, gripping Laake’s cock in one hand and Granit’s thick horn in the other.
Damon sat up, watching her. Seeing too damn much, as always. Would he advocate to keep her beyond her reconditioning? Or was this just about breeding? Answering the physical need to restore their precious species?
“Hand me the lubrication,” Granit’s deep voice rumbled.
Damon passed it over, and strolled up to the foot of the hover disk, seeming to either have a plan or know Granit’s. It turned out to be an intricate one—Granit’s cock in her ass with her lying back on his torso, Damon on his knees between their legs, vecking her pussy, and Laake in her mouth.