Axxios and Braxxus

by Alana Khan

  Instead of making an immediate move on me and initiating a makeout session, he settles me in a position facing forward, his hands respectfully on my waist.

  “I love being on a ship, Angel,” his breath rustles my hair. “It’s so peaceful out there.”

  I look ahead and see the vast expanse of space in front of us. The diamond stars are strewn in the black sky. It goes on forever. There’s a purplish nebula off to our right, and dazzling twin suns far to our left. Every muscle in my body relaxes as we sit in comfortable silence.

  I was happy in my life on Earth. At least I thought I was. I loved my job, and it paid well enough for a decent apartment in Denver. I had good friends, went to concerts and loved exploring the mountains when I had time.

  I know I’m only in my twenties, but I’d given up on men, at least for a while. That old expression about finding a man is true: the odds are good, but the goods are odd.

  With online apps, getting dates was never a problem. Finding a decent man? Not so much. And here I am, snuggled in Braxx’s lap. He’s attracted to me, I’m not imagining that. At first, I discounted his attraction. I attributed it to the painting on his ceiling he was obsessed with. I thought he wasn’t really crazy about me, he was crazy about some angel he’d been fantasizing about his whole life. Even him calling me Angel used to hurt my feelings because I felt like I wasn’t really Brie to him.

  But I don’t believe that anymore. We’ve developed a real relationship. I like him in his many moods. I get a kick out of his goofy rain man side. I really appreciate how much he loves his brother—that shows character. And the few times he’s allowed me to see his passion, yeah, that was pretty amazing.

  I search myself, trying to see if I miss my old life. If we got a transmission from Earth that invited us back into our old lives with no questions asked, would I take it?

  I gaze out the expanse of windows that ring most of the bullet-shaped room. Would I give this up? Braxx’s muscular legs are under me, his hard chest behind me, his hands resting at my waist. I realize I don’t want to let this go. That’s reassuring and frightening at the same time.

  “And all along I thought you were a man of your word,” I tease in an attempt to bring myself back to the here and now.

  “What?” His muscles tense. Obviously, my joke didn’t strike him as funny.

  “Kisses were promised but not delivered,” my tone is breathy.

  “I’ve always been a silver, Brie. This is new. Let’s see if I can adjust.”

  He pierces me with a molten look, then lifts me as if I weigh no more than a pillow, turns me toward him, and straddles me over his lap, my knees tucked between his hips and the wide arms of the chair. Whoa, that ups the heat factor by a thousand! My core is riding a long, hard ridge that’s bulging under his jumpsuit.

  His hands lodge in my hair as he slowly lowers his lips to mine. “Brie,” he says my name like it’s the most important syllable in the universe, then kisses me soft and sweet for a moment. His lips graze mine, gentle as a whisper. Moving his head from side to side, he brushes me so tenderly it almost tickles. My hands explore his granite-hard muscles from shoulder to elbow, memorizing his contours while I admire his strength.

  I can feel him shifting gears as his fists tighten in my hair. His kisses are harder, more insistent. He licks the seam of my lips, demanding entry. His tongue invades tentatively at first, then more forcefully. I assess the taste of him. It’s less of a taste, more the feeling of a mountain meadow on a sunny summer day.

  I’m focused on the intricate twining of our tongues and the way every cell in my body is awake and alive in a new way. His tongue is plundering my mouth even as one hand moves to my ass and presses me closer. For a second, my eyes fly open in surprise. This move is so sensual, so forceful. My core is riding the steel rod of his cock, and even through layers of clothes, I can feel his warmth, as I’m sure he can feel mine.

  His tongue has pillaged my mouth so vigorously, it’s all I can do to just hang on and enjoy the ride. I grab his shoulders and pull myself closer; the hard tips of my breasts press against his muscular chest. After stroking my tongue with his, he flicks the sensitive ridges on the roof of my mouth.

  His hands glide from my ass to my shoulders and back. When those big, strong hands lodge on my ass again, he presses my core to him and thrusts. His passion is so ramped up, mine responds in kind.

  His tongue retreats and he scrapes my lips with his teeth. A moan escapes my mouth. I’m on sensory overload. His hands and lips and tongue, riding his cock—it’s almost too much. But it’s also not enough.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I met you, Brie. If you don’t want this, you’d better say so now,” his voice is so deep it’s almost a growl.

  My answer is to unzip his jumpsuit, pull it down over his shoulders and scrape my teeth across the silver skin of his shoulder.

  I’m barely aware that he’s pulling my t-shirt over my head until he tosses it to the floor.

  “You’re so b...Brie.” Sweet man, even in the heat of passion he’s trying not to use my most hated word. “Take off that contraption,” he commands after spending no more than two seconds trying to figure out my bra.

  I look at him after my bra joins its companions on the floor. His lids lower as he sucks in a breath. “I’m going to say it, Brie. You are so dracking beautiful I could forget to eat or sleep and just look at you all day. Don’t forbid me from saying how lovely you are.” He rests the weight of my breasts in the palms of his hands. “Wars could be fought over these.”

  He slows his pace, as if he doesn’t want to frighten me with the intensity of his arousal. He drops a soft kiss on my collarbone, then draws the slowest line with his tongue down my skin to the rise of my breast, to the areola, and then my nipple. He licks the tip and I reward him with a soft moan and a hard thrust of my hips.

  He sucks me into his mouth with a deep groan, then flicks up and down with his tongue so swift and hard and perfect I think I’ll die. My clit is throbbing, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. My core is clenching and has to be dripping for him.

  “Braxx,” is all the words I can muster as I writhe rhythmically on his cock.

  He finally releases one breast and attacks the other, giving it the same treatment. In the past, this has been enjoyable foreplay, but with Braxx, the pleasure is transcendent. Need is growing in my belly—and below. I don’t just want release, I require it. I feel primitive, I’m riding his cock more quickly, grinding harder.

  He nips the tip of my breast with his teeth, which creates a burst of pleasure that zings from that spot to my clit.

  “Fuck!” escapes my lips. Dear God, that felt so good. He does it again, over and over, his silver head bobbing from his efforts.

  I lean over and kiss him everywhere I can reach: the tip of an ear, the top of his head, the side of his throat. Now I bite the cords of his neck, his shoulder, his shiny silver bicep. I’m wild now. I just need more, I need it all. I’m pulling at his clothes. I have no intention of struggling to get that blue jumpsuit all the way off him, just low enough to pull out his beautiful cock.

  Oh my God, I’ve finally got it in my hand. That gorgeous, silver, pulsing staff. It’s so thick my fingers can’t wrap around it. His sexy groan of pleasure, a moan from deep in the back of his throat, amps me up.

  I have one hand around it and the flat of my other palm against the top. I can feel the slickness of his liquid as I trace circles with my hand on the head of his cock. I’m desperate for the taste of him. I scoot back toward his knees, then scramble off him, my knees on the floor between his feet.

  I look up at him. This is his first time with a woman, I want to make sure he doesn’t feel like I’m attacking him. I want this to be good for him. His head is pressed against the back of the chair, eyes shuttered closed. Oh, I don’t think he’s finding this objectionable in the slightest.

  I lean over and breathe warmly on him, watching as he lifts out of his seat, wanting to
press himself into my mouth. Nope, I’m in charge here, buddy, at least for a moment until the tables are turned.

  Breathing hotly on him again, I make certain I’ve got his full attention, then use the flat of my tongue to gather the drops of his fluid and taste him. God, he tastes good—sweet. This feels intimate and connected and profound.

  I swirl my tongue around the head, first one way and then the other until he’s pumping toward me and groaning in pleasure. I prolong his wait a moment more, until the tone of his voice gets even deeper, gruffer, then I pull just the head into the warmth of my mouth.

  He quits thrusting. When I open my eyes I see his hands clutching the arms of the chair so firmly it’s a wonder something doesn’t break. He’s panting shallowly, mouth open. His obvious appreciation makes me want to please him even more.

  I grasp the base of his cock with my hand and slowly take him deeper into my mouth.

  “Brie,” it’s a breathy command.

  I begin my game, advance and retreat. All the while I add to his pleasure with my hand at the base of his cock. My other hand slides between him and the chair to cup his heavy balls. He sucks in a shocked, delighted breath, then exhales in a heavy huff.

  “Need to stop,” he says as he tries to pull out. Somehow I know he wants to protect me from coming in my mouth. This only intensifies my desire to make him come, to taste all of him.

  I quicken my pace, loving the taste of his flesh, the noises he’s making, the pleasure I’m giving...and receiving. I’m drenched in my own fluids, my nipples tingle with desire, loving this connection.

  And then I feel him spend. Hot jets of his release hit the back of my throat. His hands lodge on my shoulders, fingers biting a bit too hard because he’s so lost in the bliss of his own orgasm. I’m thrilled by his abandoned, guttural bark of pleasure.

  My head keeps bobbing, only slower now, trying to milk every ounce from him, and wring every drop of pleasure from his body. My tongue swirls languidly around his shaft, then focuses on the ridge, and finally licks the blunt head to catch every pearl of his fluid. Finally, reluctantly, I separate from him and sit back on my heels to take a mental picture.

  His eyes are closed; he’s breathing deeply as he savors the moment. Then his Caribbean blue eyes flare open and he bestows me with a look I know I’ll remember until my dying day.

  It’s that look. Not the lust-filled looks I’ve seen before on just-fucked Earth males. But the look I’ve been waiting for all my life. The gentle, happy, longing of a male who wants me, who likes me, who...I stop myself—I’m not ready to even think the “L” word in the privacy of my mind.

  “Is it a bad time to tell you again that I love you, Brianna? Does it cheapen things because you just gave me something precious that I’ve never had before? Would it make it better if I told you I will never want this with anyone else? Just you. Only you.”

  I scramble off my knees and onto his lap. Tucking my head under his chin, I take a moment to bask in what he just said. I don’t want him to see my face. It would hurt him to see my disbelief. I need a moment to catch up to the emotions swirling inside me.

  “Not a bad time, Braxx. I just need a moment to let it sink in.” It is sinking in. And it feels amazing.

  “I hope I didn’t keep you at the helm too long,” Tyree’s voice interrupts through the overhead comm. “I’ll be there in two minimas.”

  “Drack! I want to please you too, Brie,” Braxx growls. He sets my feet on the floor and swiftly grabs our clothes, hands me mine and zips his jumpsuit in record time as I pull on my t-shirt and stuff my bra into my bottoms to save a moment. “

  I’m certain we won’t fool Tyree. All of these guys seem to have the uncanny ability to smell a woman’s arousal at thirty paces. I have no doubt he’ll smell sex before the bridge doors open.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” he strides in, hair still wet from a shower. “Hi again, Brianna.” His eyes don’t veer from mine, he isn’t tossing me a lecherous look.

  My already high estimation of Tyree just went up a notch. He has to know what we’ve been doing in here, but he’s acting nonchalant about it. I guess it doesn’t matter, we all know what he and Grace were up to, also.

  The two males quickly set up a rotation schedule, with Tyree taking the lion’s share—Braxx still isn’t back to full strength.

  We walk down the metal-walled hallway toward the cabin holding hands. I’m smiling like I just won the lottery. Which, in a way, I did. I feel like I won the prize.

  “Come back to my room, Brie. Stay with Axx and me. We were meant to be together.”

  My feet quit moving forward. I’ve turned to heavy lead right here in the hallway. Did I just conclude I won the prize? What was I thinking? It’s more like the booby prize. How did I just live through the last hour without giving one thought to the fact that Silver and Gold are a package deal? And the gold part of the package is an asshole.

  “That nasty comment about not needing any help to eat...he just insulted the shit out of me.”

  “Yes, he did.” He nods his head.

  Good, don’t gaslight me and tell me that Axxios wasn’t just mean. “But today’s the worst day of his life, Angel. He was just informed that he's never going to walk again. I think that would make anyone sour for at least an hoara or two.”

  Fuck you, Braxx, I think. Fuck you for being right.

  I take a deep breath. “You’re right. Definitely the worst day of his life. But Braxx, he and I are like oil and water on our best day. This threesome thing isn’t going to work.”

  “Your culture is different. You have no role models. You’ve never seen a great tri-bond work, Brie. You admitted you like Axx. Unless you were lying.” He spears me with a serious look, waiting for me to either confess I was lying or admit I like the golden boy.

  Do I? Do I like him? I have to admit, he’s mellowed since Braxx woke up. I can’t judge him on today’s performance. I’d be a bit testy, too, if the doc just told me I was paralyzed.

  “I wasn’t lying. It’s just...there’s a lot of history between us.”

  “Then let’s make new memories,” is his cheery reply.

  I like Braxx far too much to throw this away right now. I have no options, really. How could I not go back to their room and see if there’s a way to make this work?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Axxios

  I hear them laughing as they approach the door. Great. As soon as they cross the threshold I can smell that they’ve been sexual. Even better.

  Everyone on Mythros seemed happy in their tri-bonds. I never even wondered how people maintained their contentment with their bondmates. I’d assumed it would be effortless like with my parents and extended family.

  I guess none of my role-models had an Earth female in the mix. Certainly none of them started out in captivity, forced to mate under the threat of death. And no bondmates I knew had a paraplegic male, dragging everyone down.

  I want to say something cutting, so caustic in fact that they back right out of this room and set up house in her cabin. But I wouldn’t do that to my twin. Gods, I love him so much and want him to be happy. I want her to be happy, too. I love her. I admit it. I’m just no good for either of them.

  “Feeling better, Axx?” Braxx asks, a happy smile on his face.

  How can I begrudge him his happiness? Less than two weeks ago he was dying, lying in a pool of his own urine. I’ll bide my time. I’m certain the right path will soon become clear.

  “Obviously you two must be feeling good.” Drack, that was mean. How did I let that spiteful comment escape my mouth?

  “Perhaps someone needs a nap?” he inquires pointedly, his eyebrow cocked.

  “Sorry. Sorry to both of you. I have a lot to wrap my head around.”

  “All three of us are in uncharted territory,” Braxx says. “Our parents never talked about how they got together, other than that it was arranged when they were young. Brianna and I probably shouldn’t have done anything before
we all discussed it.”

  He shoves a gust of apology at me through our twinlink even as Brie’s head snaps back in disgust.

  “Excuse me? We needed his permission before we…?”

  “Not exactly permission, Brie,” Braxx explains, “it’s just that we’re forging a new relationship and everything is new and fragile. We have three people’s emotions to take into consideration. Doing something secretive, leaving someone out, could get things off on the wrong foot.”

  Brianna

  He’s right. As much as I might wish Braxx and I were a twosome, I’ve tacitly agreed that Axx is part of the package. I need to give this my best shot. Maybe Axx and I can repair some of what’s broken between us.

  I look at the golden twin, really look. God, he must feel awful. I’ve been self-absorbed. I’ve held a grudge. I don’t think I’d be on my best behavior if the doc just told me I’d never walk again. How can I expect it of him?