by Aubrey Cara
Tawn releases me as Ast falls over me, and finally I can touch him. I trail my hands over his contoured back, lightly scoring him with my nails.
“Oh, fuck,” Ast curses. “Do that again.” So, I do, delighting in how his muscles pull tight as I run my fingers up his back. His cock head strums my rings again as he pulls almost clear of my body then pushes back in.
My thighs quiver at the sensation. His tempo builds until I’m lost, my rings humming like never before.
“You’re so soft and wet and perfect.” His arm wraps around my waist, anchoring me to him for his mad thrusts. “I’m going to fill your veran cunt. I’m going to fill you to bursting.”
My mind spins, wanting him to do just that. “Yes,” I cry before I realize the words are at my lips.
“Do you want that, my little Sana? You want me to mark you with my essence until you’re dripping with it?”
My channel convulses, my rings milking him.
“Fuck,” he growls into my neck. He cups one of my breasts as he pounds into me.
My mind spins.
An echoing curse comes from one of the other men. I don’t know who.
I’m numbly aware there is a sensor going off. Banx leaves his place beside me. I don’t know where Tawn or Jor are. All I’m truly aware of is Ast moving inside me. Over me. My legs come up to encircle his hips. I cling to him as we climb ever higher towards the pinnacle I’m afraid of falling from.
His cock is growing inside me. Pushing against the center bands of my rings. I dig my nails into his shoulders.
“It’s too much,” I cry. The pressure is too much.
“Not enough, my veran. Almost there.” He buries his face in my neck. His grunts sound just as frantic and agonized as mine do. My legs tremble as my body arches bow tight.
The swell of his cock fills the middle chamber between my two center rings, locking him in place. My channel contracts, and his cock jerks so hard I shatter in the fall, breaking into a million little pieces held together by sparkling beams of light.
Ast roars, hot jets of essence filling me to bursting.
This is what I’ve been missing. What the priestesses tittered about and promised was what we veran are designed for.
This.
When I can breathe once more, Ast’s face is still buried in the crook of my neck, and I can see all the red marks from where I scored him with my nails and teeth. I know the Monrok are not like my master, but apprehension fills me just the same.
“I’m sorry,” I rush to tell him, brushing my fingers over the marks as if that will make them disappear.
Ast pulls back, his thick cock still lodged inside me, his blue eyes filled with a tenderness I didn’t think the stone-cold warrior capable of.
And that’s when I see it. A vision of his fate so crystal clear it knocks all the air from my lungs. It’s so vibrantly detailed. More so than any vision I’ve ever had before. My heart swells with unfamiliar emotions, it appears so real.
But even so…it can’t be true.
CHAPTER THREE
AST
Incredible.
Phenomenal.
I always thought I’d like to die in hand-to-hand combat with a Ko’sar, but Sana’s cunt is where I shall live and die a happy man. I could write an ode to her cunt. I believe that is a human practice.
Her channel has finally stopped vibrating, but my knot is still swollen inside her. She shifts under me, and another jet of essence is wrung from my sac.
Ka du, I may die now.
Her lithe form stiffens. Her hands run over my back and shoulders. I pull back as she apologizes, her gaze frantic.
Then she just stops.
Stops breathing.
Stops moving.
It’s a strange static moment, as if she’s seeing right through me. Like I’m not even here. I don’t care for it. I want her back here with me.
“What are you sorry for, my precious Sana?”
She jolts back to me, her gaze now sincerely focused on my face. I can tell when she’s fully processed my question because she looks away, nervously.
“For the scratches and such…master.” Her voice is barely above an embarrassed whisper. She gives off faint traces of distress.
“Do you believe I will punish you for them, Sana?” I ask with genuine curiosity, and nuzzle her jaw. Her scent is exotic, and now holds traces of my essence. I’d mark her until she reeked of me if I could.
She still will not look at me as she nods. “I’ve never…no one has ever used my breeding orifice,” she explains. “I didn’t know it would be...so…” She swallows. “I’m sorry, master.”
Being called master feels foreign, as does how my chest swells with some unknown sensation. I’m momentarily dizzy with it, and my cybernetics work to clear my hazy vision. I was the first to rut her virgin cunt. My essence the first to fill her and mark her with my scent.
“I enjoy the scratches and such,” I tell her. “And I prefer you call me by name. I want you to cry and shout it the next time I’m inside you, rutting you so hard you have to claw me.”
Her shocked gaze darts back to mine and locks there.
“Is that understood?” I ask.
Her lips slightly part as she nods.
“If you’re done rutting her, we’re under attack.” Jor breaks through the pleasant moment I’m having with Sana like a great ramdian charging a hunting pack.
My back stiffens. I look over my shoulder to find the hadhr fucker standing at our feet, his arms crossed over his chest. “My knot is just beginning to subside, you aheh.”
“Just thought you might like to know.”
My skin burns and prickles when I hear the truth of his statement in the pings and shakes of the ship. I’ve never so lost my senses. Rutting is a dangerous sport.
I try to disengage, and Sana cries out. My knot is wedged between her tight rings.
Damn.
We’re an undersized crew for a ship this size, as it is. Our large vessel is superior to most but needs to be manned by all of us to avoid any blind spots being compromised.
“Are the shields up?”
“Aye,” Jor replies. “They’re holding for now. We’re getting battered, though. We need them to draw back so we can jump.”
Meaning we need fire power on all sides.
Seeing no other option, I lift Sana, speared by my cock, with me off the hover pad. She squeals, her internal muscles clenching and milking me. I groan as more essence leaves my body and my vision goes momentarily spotty.
“You’re going to have to try not to do that,” I grit.
“Sorry,” she says, but her channel flutters on me as if she’s struggling to relax.
Ka du, that may be worse.
She wraps her legs around my waist and clings to me as I walk with her to the side control panels and take a seat.
Banx glances over, raising a judgmental brow.
Tawn chuckles. “Experiencing some difficulties?”
“The same could be asked of you three, unable to battle a few fighters and one warship. We should already be phased.” I’d like to see either of the aheh try to disengage and fight when their cocks have knotted for the first time.
The three appear unimpressed with the argument. With me at the panel, we become the intrinsic team we always are, able to communicate full thoughts with single words and gestures.
Sana’s hair undulates in waves, and I bat it out of my line of vision. The hair calms as the little veran curls herself around me, tucking her face against my chest. I focus on the screens and objective in front of me, trying to not notice my sticky thighs and the warm soft body I’m lodged in that made them so.
There’s one warship larger than ours behind us, releasing a stream of smaller fighters that circle and shoot. Their shots ricochet easily off our shield but it’s the blasts coming from the main vessel that rock our ship.
I lock the fighters in my sights and knock them off one by one.
“Almost cl
ear,” Jor calls. “Everyone focus on their main cannon, and we’ll jump in six, five, four, three, two…”
We send out a full blast aimed at their cannon, at the same time they do. My skin prickles, and my cybernetics tingle with the effects of phasing just as the blasts strike midstream in a magnificent explosion of light before the vacuum of space takes it.
With a pop, we’re in a new territory of space, looking out at a small planet covered in a colorful haze. My cybernetics work to calm my stomach as we jump space twice more, Sana’s grip tightening some more with each phase.
“We’re one cycle out from Kadeema,” Banx says, checking the monitors and internal dialogue of our vessel.
“So that’s it? Back to Kadeema we go?” Jor asks, the muscle in his jaw twitching. It’s rare for Monrok to have physical tells, but Jor’s never been one to hide his annoyance. He likes to wear it for all to see.
Banx gives Sana a pointed look. “Probably for the best.”
Surprisingly, Sana appears as upset by the choice of our destination as Jor does.
Tawn shrugs as if he couldn’t care either way. I don’t have a problem with returning to Kadeema, but I didn’t have a problem staying there in the first place.
“What if they trace our ship?” Jor argues. “We’ll lead them right to Kadeema.”
“Kadeema is a Monrok claimed territory now,” I point out. “The Zapex wouldn’t dare bring a fight to a planet filled with Monrok.”
“Wouldn’t they?” Jor shoots back. “You know the Zapex’s mind now?”
My hands fist, but my cybernetics level the adrenaline spiking with my anger. Maybe it is arrogant to believe the Zapex would be sensible enough not to bring war on the Monrok, but sometimes Jor also likes to be argue just to be contrary.
“What do you suggest, Jor?” Banx asks.
“Pacbar.” Pacbar is the capital planet of the Jun’pn galaxy and a neutral territory. “She said herself she wants to go. And now that we are free, the four of us could in theory seek immunity there.”
“But could Sana?” We all know very well that while we are free beings and a commodity to the Unity Council, veran are not.
My gaze narrows on him in suspicion. As much as I enjoy bickering with Jor, in the end I always let him have his way. It’s been like that for decades.
Jor is only a few solars younger than us, but we found him in the Mehcad jungle, savaged by some feral Monrok and left to be eaten by fenipu. After he was stronger, he hunted down the two Monrok who made fenipu bait out of him, but then the Zapex took Jor into custody for three solars on the charge of killing his brethren.
For solars, all Jor wanted to do was fight, and we were there for him.
We’ve always let him get away with being a surly aheh, but this time is different. I won’t let him risk Sana being taken from us just because he’s pissed she’s Zapexian.
My knot finally subsided, I stand and lift Sana from me, drop her on Banx’s lap, then turn to confront Jor. “What are you playing at?”
Jor doesn’t back down, but steps forward so we’re toe to toe. “You’re the lot who’s playing. I’m the only one of us being sensible. We could fuck over the entirety of our brethren, or we could head to Pacbar. On the way we can get our fill of her, and then…” He shrugs. “Come what may.”
I shove him, and he shoves me back.
“You may be willing to lose her, but I’m not.”
“You have no idea if they’ll confiscate her,” he argues.
“We don’t know if they won’t,” Tawn says, sounding as outraged as I feel.
I see a wave of black hair before I realize Sana has stepped between us. She places a hand on each of our chests, as if that act alone can calm the fight growing inside us.
“Jor is right. We should go to Pacbar,” she says calmly, as if her words aren’t ludicrous.
I look over her head and see Jor’s crossed his arms over his chest, in triumph. Before my cybernetics can calm me, I slam my fist into his smug face.
In an instant Jor moves to retaliate, and Sana somehow stops him with an invisible force. Her back to my front, she has her hands in front of her and the air shimmers between her and Jor.
“No fighting,” she says. “Not over me.”
She drops her hands and the force field dissipates, but none of us move. We just stare at her. Not only did she hold her ground between two huge Monrok about to come to blows, she stopped Jor in his tracks.
“You’re making it hard to want to keep you around, veran,” Jor mutters between clenched teeth.
Sana
All four Monrok’s gazes are focused on me. But stopping them from fighting had been instinctual. I’m not even quite sure how I did it. I force myself to hold my ground instead of shrinking back, but it’s difficult after spending the last decade trying not to be noticed by my old master or his honored mate.
Maybe I should have let the two Monrok pummel each other. My actions certainly haven’t endeared me to Jor in any way.
I’m not sure why Jor wanting to rid himself of me stings, but I try to shake off the sensation and remind myself it’s for the best. Reaching Pacbar now seems more important than ever. I fear what the Monrok would do to the Zapex if they learned the truth before I speak to the Galactic Unity Council.
“I will not have you or your brethren fighting a war with the Zapex.” At least not over me.
My conscience can be clear if the Monrok have to protect the Jun’pn galaxy from the Zapex. But if the Monrok were to attack our planet, full of innocents, or if the Zapex were to destroy the Monrok’s new planet all because of me…because I wanted to escape Jar’jn and live. Because I wanted more from life than to just be Kechlyn’s discarded concubine…
I would never forgive myself.
“Jor has no idea what he’s talking about, Sana,” Ast says. “Kadeema is the best place for us. The Zapex will not follow us, and most importantly, you will be safe.”
My heart twists, unexpected emotion clogging my throat from his sincere concern. When I was a child, the priestesses would tell tales of the savage Monrok beasts who guarded our planet from afar…
The reality of them is quite the contrast. They’re savage, yes, but capable of so much more. They’ve already showed me more consideration and kindness than my Zapexian master ever did. I will not repay them by bringing the Zapex down on their brethren.
“The Zapex are already chafing over the Monrok rebellion,” I caution. “I would not trust them to leave your brethren in peace, as is. You know leaders of my world are long lived and spiteful.”
A decade to a Zapex is akin to a solar to a being with a regular lifespan. Zapex have learned to halt the aging process and have been known to live over a thousand solars.
“I don’t think it would be wise to take me to Kadeema. Not now.”
“Do all on Jar’jn know we’re free, then?” Tawn asks.
“I’m not sure if it’s common knowledge yet, but it’s spreading.” The only reason I knew of it was because my master was on the king’s council. That’s also how I found out about their plans for the unsuspecting populace of the galaxy.
“Prince Keel is said to be gathering his warriors,” I tell them. “But it seems his greatest concern is protection of Jar’jun.”
“Keel has never favored the existence of Monrok,” Banx points out.
And since the Monrok killed Prince Keel’s older brother, Prince Kaihan, all the Zapex have been waiting to see what Keel will do. A natural-born warrior, he has been vocal in his disapproval of his father and brother’s creation of Monrok. He may be happy to have the chance to eradicate the cybernetically engineered species from existence. King Thaain hasn’t actively ruled in centuries, and now he’s supposedly dead, so it’s all up to Prince Keel to decide.
Jor smugly turns to the others. “This is why we need to go to Pacbar. Our brethren need time to prepare for whatever may come. No reason to rush things. The treaty with the Galactic Unity Council leaves us in good st
anding. Right now, we can barter and trade on any planet, but if we trigger a war with the Zapex, that can all change. If the Unity Council turns tide against us and takes the Zapex’s side, we’ll be cut off from the supply trade and free space travel.”
I have to bite back my assurance the Unity Council will very much be on the side of the Monrok after I tell them the Zapex plans. The carnage that has already been wrought in order to protect me is too much. I could never live with myself if an actual war broke out between the Monrok and Zapex because of me. Not when war is exactly what I’m trying to prevent in the first place.
“Then it’s settled,” I say, taking a deep breath. “We go to Pacbar.”
“I don’t think you understand Treaty Laws,” Tawn interjects. “We may not be able to protect you on Pacbar. On Kadeema, we can, war or no war.”
Worry for what is to come weighs heavy on me. It would be so simple to let these warriors take me to their planet. To give in and let them stand for me, speak for me, fight for me. To not speak out against my people to the Unity Council and claim ignorance when the time of attack comes.
But I would be nothing more than a coward, and I stopped living cowardly the moment I was sealed in that crate. I have to be strong because, no matter what the outcome may bring, I cannot hide behind the Monrok.
“I do not know Pacbar laws,” I confess. “I do not know if the Galactic Unity Council will even give me a hearing.” I pray to the ancestors of the universe that they will. “But I know seeking out sanctuary on Pacbar is our best option.”
Ast cups my cheek. “Sana,” he says like a plea.
Looking up at his face it’s all too easy to recall the vision I had of his fate. A smile pulls my lips. “You’re destined for a beautiful life.” One I hopefully will not be robbing him of by going to Pacbar.
Ast’s brow wrinkles. “You saw my fate?” He eyes me distrustfully, as if I somehow betrayed him.
My hair rises and snaps out like a whip. “It is a risk you take when diddling my orifices.” The visions that come to me are a gift and not something I can always control.