Matched and Mated: Interstellar Brides® Program - Book 16

by Goodwin, Grace

  He’d have to prove himself.

  Reaching into Trion uniform pants, he retrieved something, then held out his palm so I could see. I recognized the green gems instantly.

  My pussy clenched remembering how they’d bitten into my tender flesh, the sharp feeling morphing into a burst of heat. Morphing into an orgasm so painfully sweet…

  Trist growled and stalked over to the wall, leaned against it and crossed his arms. I felt his rage, his possessiveness. He didn’t want to share me with Brax, but he would. If he were human, he’d probably hate the knowledge that Brax had been with me first. That we’d had sex for months, that I’d liked it.

  But Trist wasn’t human. It was in his nature to share a woman. It was an honor to do so. He’d been the one to use that word when he’d spoken of the second he’d had, who’d gone off to join another family.

  He wanted me to be with another man. He’d watch me. They’d even take me together. And that made me shiver. That made me hot.

  Trist growled again, his glare now filled with heat. His cock was hard in his pants, thick and bulging, not something he intended to hide.

  He wanted me. He wanted me hot. And if Brax got me hot, then he’d allow it.

  And from where he’d moved, he intended to watch. Close enough to have his own porno, close enough to save me if I needed it, but far enough away to give Brax the room to do what he wanted.

  And I wanted. I rubbed my thighs together in anticipation.

  Brax grinned. It was the sure, quick smile I was used to with him. Panty melting. Flirtatious. Trist wasn’t easygoing enough to offer me a look like that, but it also came with a price. Easygoing in nature and easygoing in a relationship. Or so I’d thought.

  “See the chain? It’s the one I brought for you, to claim you.”

  Trist growled a third time.

  “Now?”

  I’d told Trist he was the one I wanted, that I’d wear his collar, but I wasn’t claimed. Our collars didn’t match color. I’d been content to wait until he said it was time, for I was content in submitting to his judgment. I knew he’d know when it would be perfect.

  But Brax? I wasn’t ready for that yet. The fact that he’d brought them with him from Trion, that he was ready, spoke volumes.

  He shook his head. “I won’t claim you now. You have a little less than thirty days, correct?”

  I glanced at Trist, then nodded.

  “Today you will wear the nipple clamps you liked so much, but I will add the chain. You will show your primary male how beautiful you look when you are adorned.”

  Trist huffed. “She does not need jewels and gold to be beautiful.”

  I smiled at him, smiled at the fierce wave of possessiveness I felt through the collars. He wanted me naked. No frills. That got him hot.

  But I did like the gems. When I wore them for Brax, I did feel beautiful, in a completely different way than with Trist.

  Oh, why did I ever think being with two aliens was hot? It was hard! Two bossy, dominant males to make happy, to keep from killing each other. To satisfy. I’d have to get on the comms and talk to Natalie about the realities of multiple mates. Two cocks were one thing, but the rest of them? Their bossy natures, their fists to fight? Their cranky personalities?

  “That is true, she is lovely bare. But bejeweled and begging?” Brax made a little hum sound as he adjusted his cock in his pants.

  He held out a hand. “Come here, gara.”

  I glanced at Trist, who remained stoic. Yet, I could sense his approval through the collars even without the slight nod of his head.

  I was eager for this. I’d dreamed of this in the testing. It was what I wanted, what I needed. Two males, two completely and totally different males, to give me everything.

  I took a breath, then walked over to Brax.

  * * *

  Brax

  She was so beautiful. Everything I ever wanted. How had I not seen the way her long hair had hints of red as it caught the light? How had I not seen how small she was, how dainty? Having a mate who was seven-feet tall only accentuated that. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and shelter her. Kiss her. Caress her and tell her how beautiful she was.

  I also wanted her on her knees. Submitting. Begging.

  There was no doubt Trist was a dominant mate. He was the primary Prillon in their match. There was no second.

  There was now. Me.

  His dominance was also what Miranda craved. It had to be, for their match was near perfect. It didn’t eliminate me, only confirmed I belonged with them. He needed a second; she needed me. I just had to prove I was worthy of her.

  Starting now.

  When she stood before me, I reached out and cupped her jaw with my palm, stroked my thumb over her cheek. Her eyes fell closed and she tilted her head as I brushed the softest of skin.

  She was softer other places, like the curve of her breast, the inside of her thigh. I’d get there.

  Eventually.

  “Shall we show your Prillon how you look with your nipples clamped? Bedecked in gems?”

  She licked her lips, then nodded.

  “I need the words, gara.”

  She swallowed, then looked away. “Yes,” she whispered.

  I didn’t need a collar to know what she wasn’t saying.

  My thumb continued to stroke her cheek as I spoke. “It’s all right, Miranda. You don’t have to say it. Not yet. When you are ready, you will call me Master again.”

  Her eyes met mine and I saw relief there. Contentment.

  My cock pulsed in my pants. I stepped back, dropped my hand. “That dress looks pretty on you, but it will look just as nice on the floor.”

  Slowly, as if just the delay was a tease to my cock, she lifted her hands to her shoulders, slid the thin straps of her green gown--the color of it did not go unnoticed by me, matching the color of her mate’s collar, of her mate’s family colors--off her shoulders, then down her arms.

  The farther it traveled down her body, the more she showed. Every bit of her beneath was bare. Nothing covered her breasts. No scrap of fabric covered her pussy.

  I couldn’t help but emit a similar growl from my chest as Trist had. She was a vision unclothed. Full breasts, plump nipples which hardened even as I watched. A slightly rounded belly and full hips. She was not a waif, but lush and thick in all the right places. Perfect to hold, to grip as I fucked her.

  That I remembered well.

  When the material pooled at her feet, she stood tall and proud, but I saw the touch of nerves in her brown eyes, in the way her fingers moved.

  I would not make her wait. Reaching out, I cupped her breast, remembering the delicious weight of it. She sighed and thrust her chest into my palm. She wanted it.

  Trist made a deep sound as if he were an Atlan who had a beast within. I afforded him a second of my attention. He had not moved from his spot against the wall, affording him a clear view of our mate.

  Yes, ours. I would prove it with every touch.

  I could understand him, for I felt as if I were possessed by something. Not a beast, but a need so great, so fierce, I would rage if I could not have what I wanted.

  But cupping her breast soothed me. She was here, before me. Whole. She wanted me. Wanted this.

  The nipple clamps were connected by the thin golden chain. It was light, only offering the slightest tug on her nipples once clamped. It would be my medallion that not only would signify her as mine, but offer her the constant pull as a reminder of our match.

  I held one clamp between my fingers, let the other drop so it dangled by the chain as I worked her nipple with my thumb and forefinger, tugging and pulling gently until it was a stiff peak.

  Only then did I lower my head, keeping my gaze on hers the entire time, and take the tip into my mouth. Suck. Lick.

  And when she moaned and her fingers lifted to tangle in my hair, I stood back up.

  “The first one,” I said, opening the clamp and setting it on her bright pink nipple, letting
it close, then adjusting the tightness of it.

  I watched her eyes, saw the flare of pain as it became snug, then a gasp when I tightened it a little further.

  “Breathe,” I whispered.

  She did as instructed, and after a moment, her look went soft, went almost hazy with lust. The pain had morphed into the sweet pleasure she loved.

  “Brax,” she whispered as I repeated the motions for her other nipple.

  Only when they were both affixed and she’d felt their bite, then bliss, did I step back.

  “Look at our mate, Captain. Beautiful without, and with.”

  She’d never worn the chain before, but the sight of it, with the dark green gems swaying beneath her pert nipples, made it one step closer to claiming her as mine, had my balls aching. The need to bend her over the bed and fuck her from behind as her breasts swayed, as the chain swung, was almost desperate.

  I would take her that way. Soon.

  Her gaze shifted to Trist and I saw the touch of uncertainty. Surely, he felt it through their collars.

  He pushed off the wall, strode over to her. He looked down at her breasts, studied them silently. With one finger, he flicked the chain, set it in motion. She gasped.

  “She likes it,” he said, as if that had been a surprise for him.

  I moved behind her, reached around and cupped a breast with one hand, and settled the other between her thighs. I had missed her slick heat, always wet, always dripping for me.

  “Trist,” she breathed.

  “You like his touch.”

  “Yes.”

  “I felt how much you like the clamps. I admit, seeing my color upon you makes me wish to fuck you.”

  “Trist,” she repeated.

  He stepped back, but didn’t tear his gaze away. I took it as my signal to continue. The hand that had only cupped her pussy began to play, to slide over her folds, slip fingers deep inside her, to pull out and circle her clit, again and again. She began to writhe, to ride my hand in her need to come. It set the chain in motion, which made the gems sway, which tugged on her nipples.

  “Yes!” she said again, this time all doubts, all worries gone. She was lost to the pleasure I worked from her body.

  I imagined the collar about her neck made Trist feel her need and in turn, she no doubt felt his. He might not say it, but he was turned on by the sight of Miranda being touched by another. She was able to give over her control to me because she sensed his satisfaction. He might not like me, personally, but he liked how I cherished her body.

  “You are ready, gara,” I said when she’d all but drenched my hand with her arousal.

  She nodded against my shoulder, and I walked her forward toward the bed until she was standing directly at the foot of it.

  “Bend over, gara. I will fuck you now. I will ease your pussy’s need for my cock.”

  Eagerly, she set her hands on the bed, ass up. She gasped as her action set the chain in motion, her nipples taking the sweet brunt of it all.

  Trist grabbed the chair and moved it a few feet from the bed, and settled in it, legs spread. Miranda was in profile to him and he would be able to see every inch of her as she got fucked.

  I opened my pants and pulled out my cock. While remaining clothed wasn’t as intimate, I wanted Trist to only see our mate. I wasn’t bothered by him seeing me naked. I wasn’t modest, not when it came to pleasing our female. But this was all about Miranda.

  Gods, it would always be about pleasing her.

  I slid a finger over her plump, pink folds, dripping and ready for my cock.

  Stepping close, I took her then, slid deep in one long stroke until I bottomed out.

  “Brax!” she screamed, her inner walls clenching about me.

  “Fark,” I growled, reveling in the hot, wet feel of her as she all but strangled my cock. It had been five weeks and I’d missed this. Missed her.

  Gripping her hips, I took her, hard.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trist open his pants, pull out his cock and stroke it.

  “Yes!” Miranda shouted. Obviously his burst of pleasure hit her as well.

  Her breasts swayed with each thrust, the chain in constant motion. Fuck, it looked so good on her. I awaited the day it was affixed to rings that were through her nipples and not clamps. In the meantime, she would know what it would feel like, I would know what it looked like, and Trist, he would discover his mate needed more. So much more than a rigid Prillon could ever offer.

  “I’m coming,” she moaned, just before I felt her walls ripple around me.

  I couldn’t hold back a second longer, the tight feel of her pulling the cum from my balls. I thrust deep, gripped hard and filled her.

  When my brain began to function again, when I was no longer blind from the strength of my orgasm, I looked to Trist. His gaze was on Miranda, panting and gripping the bed as if it were the only thing keeping her from floating off into space.

  I pulled out, took male satisfaction in watching my cum seep from her.

  Miranda remained in place, but I hooked a hand about her waist again, helped her to stand.

  I kissed the shell of her ear, then murmured, “Your mate, gara. He needs you.”

  I watched as her eyes fluttered open and she looked to Trist. Her hand went to her collar as if she could feel his need as much as see how hard his cock was, how pre-cum seeped from the small hole at the top.

  “Go to him and give him what he needs.”

  She took a step toward him and I slapped her ass. Her head whipped about to eye me with confusion. I narrowed my gaze and crossed my arms. Waiting. Oh, I was sure I was not as stern as I could be with my slick cock, still hard and ready for her again, sticking out of my open pants.

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered, a small smile playing about her lips.

  My cock was ready to go again, for those words from her lips were the closest thing to heaven on a battleship.

  * * *

  Trist

  Fuck, she liked it. No, she loved it. The collars made it obvious. So did the look on her face, the way her body went lax, the way she gave herself over to Brax so beautifully.

  There was no question she submitted to me, but this was different. It was as if there was a second side to her that I didn’t know, that responded to Brax in a way I could never elicit. This was what I’d expected from a second.

  But from the Trion doctor? From the male who’d hurt my mate? I’d felt her sadness, although I hadn’t known it was because of him until his arrival. Then I understood. She wanted him, but he’d refused.

  His loss was definitely my gain, but had I gained all of her? It had been less than two days that she’d belonged to me. Oh, she was mine. I didn’t doubt that or question it. But was she his, too?

  He might know what made her hot, what made her come, some deep secrets and dark fantasies she didn’t want fulfilled with me.

  But that didn’t make him a worthy mate. I questioned his ability to be my second, for a second was stalwart. He stood fast with his family. He put his mate first before work, before everything.

  Would he do that? Could he do that?

  I didn’t know the answer. One fuck and nothing was solved. I learned so much about Miranda, what she needed, but nothing more.

  Brax, whose seed slipped down her thighs as she approached, would need to earn more than just the title of Master. He would have to earn the word Second.

  When Miranda stood before me, her legs between my parted knees, she paused. I continued to stroke my cock as I took in every inch of her. I was relaxed in my chair, enjoying the sight of Miranda being fucked. It was arousing to see her so well-satisfied and her pleasure that I felt through my collar only made me want to stroke harder and finish myself, spurting my seed in an arc onto the floor. But no, it was for her, for her pussy, so I gripped the base tightly, staved off my need and just looked.

  Those gems on her nipples, the pretty pink tips and the shiny green, the combination was mouth watering. And the gre
en… it did something to me.

  The chain that gently swung was pure adornment, but it did make her lovely. Made her feel lovely, per the collar. It was a restraint of sorts and I wondered if she liked to be tied up, to be bound to a bed and at her mates’ mercy.

  “Trist,” she whispered, and I met her eyes. “Please.”

  That was all she had to say. I was ready. I knew she was. Knew she was wet enough to take me. Hell, her thighs were covered.

  Lifting my hand from my cock, I hooked my finger in the chain and used it to coax her to lean forward. I didn’t tug, only used it as a guide, for she followed, knowing the bit of pain that would come if I were denied.

  Her lips met mine in a fierce, swift kiss.

  When I pulled back, I hooked a hand about her ass, pulled her so she straddled my lap, up on her knees.

  “Ride me, mate.”

  She lowered herself quickly, but I held her fast.

  “Slow,” I commanded.

  She huffed out a breath and settled upon my cock so her thighs rested on mine. I was so deep, so far within her I didn’t know where she ended and I began.

  Her hands settled on my shoulders and she began to move, to lift up.

  “No,” I said.

  “Trist…”

  “Who is in charge, mate?”

  She swallowed and her dark eyes were on my mouth.

  I leaned forward and kissed her, gave her what she wanted. At least part of it.

  “You are,” she whispered when I rested my head back against the tall chair back.

  “But this… my cock inside you, is not enough.”

  Her eyes flared wide and I felt fear and guilt course through the collar.

  “You are enough. Trist, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  I wasn’t hurt. But the understanding was a struggle.