Betrayed: The Blue Barbarian Series (The Blue Barbarians Book 6)

by Rena Marks

  “If there are none?” someone asks.

  “The position is up for grabs. There are a series of tests a leader must complete in order to put a new line in place. With children becoming more scarce, it was beginning to look as though our tribe is dying out.”

  I continue on, wanting to share with them one difference before they reach the conclusion themselves. “Males are not only property in my tribe. Most treat them as slaves. Therefore, my brother is my property, since he is now a single male. I have decided he should rule. Because he is mine, I refuse to allow his seed to be used to breed. It stands to reason they may want to end my reign if they have offspring of the royal bloodline.” There is a longer story there about how I know for certain others will try to end my rule that I do not share, because it is my brother’s to tell. He was once mated, with a daughter he named Eresan, a cross between both of our names. However, as Eresan grew older, she looked remarkably like the offspring of his best friend, Cobran, a girl called Lizzia. Lizzia and Eresan played together, and were always seen hand in hand. They shared a special close bond. With the marked similarities becoming more pronounced as the offspring grew, rumors started. I was forced to admit my misgivings about her heritage, which broke my heart. I had kept Hekran infertile with a chory root, which takes a full rotation of seasons to wear off, so Enishi should not have been able to conceive during their dalliance. When confronted with the evidence, she admitted that she had passed Eresan off as Hekran’s offspring. Hekran thought he loved her, and had wanted the freedom—my permission—to mate her, thinking he was the only one she was interested in. I never trusted her, as she was one of Shen’robi’s friends. However, once Eresan was born, we set aside our differences.

  Until I fell ill, a container of my sleeping herbs missing. Cobran and Hekran fed me a countering herb and I was revived, to Enishi’s surprise. When it came time for her trial, she took the remainder of the jar. One day, perhaps, Hekran may get over the pain of his mate’s betrayal and death.

  “When Shen’robi came across Atareek, she decided he should be hers. She wanted to take him from Valencia out of spite because of our friendship and connection over learning about herbs. I exerted my right to battle her for the honor of owning Atareek. When I won, I gave him to Valencia.”

  There are quite a few jaws dropped. I understand. After being in their village for many moons, I know the differences between our cultures are extreme.

  “You gave me my own man?” Valencia muttered.

  I smile at her. “It’s semantics, I know. But yes, technically, Atareek is mine. In the eyes of my people, anyway.” I shrug. “As I said, the females sometimes want to see what they can get away with. I forced her—”

  “—to eat cow,” Atareek announces, a grin from ear to ear.

  “To eat crow,” Jezebel corrects him with a groan. I know neither of these foods.

  “She needed to be reminded that I am of royal line, anyway,” I say, patting Valencia’s hand. “She was pushing her luck.” That one, I know.

  “The hours grow shorter,” Jeroc says, staring up at the sky. “Those of us heading back should return to the village.”

  The only two who are staying behind are Valencia and Atareek, so the rest of us get up and start cleaning the camp.

  With hugs and words to be safe, we leave the two of them at the cave and head back toward the village of the surface dwellers. Diont and Atan walk on either side of me. The others in the returning party also gather into their own groups.

  “Where will you sleep tonight?” Atan asks.

  “Wherever you and Diont will be.”

  I haven’t forgotten that while we’ve finally come together, neither of them obtained orgasms. While females may own males in my village and deprive them of mutual satisfaction, I would never be so cruel as some. In fact, I find it strangely satisfying to wonder what they would look like lost in the throes of passion.

  “I would enjoy that,” Atan says. “I would enjoy every minute of your time before you have to leave to return you to your people.”

  I smile at him, though it’s a bit sad. “I would like that, too.”

  I wish I didn’t ever have to leave. But in my own tribe, my responsibilities are great.

  We reach the village and a couple of the men relieve the guards at the giant gates. They are kept open right now, but when the shade of bright sunlight begins, they will be lowered closed to keep the night creatures out of their village. The guards will move to a smaller door for emergencies—should someone get caught outside and running from the monsters of the night. We pass the word that Atareek and Valencia are still out in the caves and shall remain overnight. Communication is big in their village, and they like to keep track of everyone at all times. There is a bonfire lit in the yard and several people huddle around it. No one finds it odd that I cuddle with both Diont and Atan in the dancing light. It is so much more accepting in this village while it is horrible in mine. On one hand, I know I should not get used to this, but on the other, this is the one chance I have to enjoy life.

  “I cannot imagine that such a simple device—a wall—keeps you safe enough to enjoy the night despite all of its terrors.”

  Diont shrugs. I’m draped across Atan’s lap while Diont massages my feet. He’d started with my feet, worked his way up my ankles and now currently unwinds the tight muscles of my calves. “It has been here forever. Since we’ve added the glow rocks to the outside, the creatures have stayed further back. In the past, they were close enough that we could hear them screeching and fighting with one another. Now it is much more peaceful.”

  His large, strong hands are concentrating on my knees now. I nearly moan with his magical touch. I never realized how sensitive knees are. I don’t do nearly as much walking as these villagers do, but I also have not done much swimming lately, which is what I am used to. The surface dwellers do not swim often. In fact, before the humans arrived, they did not know how to move in the water. Somehow, during the time our tribes split from one another, they forgot the ways from whence they came.

  “We have received word of when you are to return,” Atan says. His voice rumbles from his chest where I am draped. “And while we still have some time with you, a cold front approaches within the next month, according to the calendar the humans have marked days on. We have a few days before that time to get you back before the next season starts. We’ll see if any others would care to either replace you or return with you and remain for that season.”

  “Replace me?” I pretend to be insulted as Diont’s hands smooth my upper thighs instead of focusing on the fact that I want his hands to move a bit higher. “Will you two find it that easy?”

  Diont’s hands twist slightly to run along the insides of my thighs, one long touch that goes up the edge of my skirt. My breath inhales sharply. Atan’s hands—which had been rubbing my back—still. Both men move ever-so-slowly, obviously wishing for me to make the final decision to take them.

  Both.

  Or to choose. Which I know I cannot. From the first moment I laid eyes on Diont, I was smitten. The depth of his blue skin color is as deep as the darker stripes of my skin. It makes me want to lick his whole body to see if he tastes as rich as he looks, especially with his thick, pronounced muscles. But against that darker blue skin, his blue eyes are addicting to stare at. They are much lighter and shimmer like the brightest of glow rocks. Still, he is tight and fine and shows as much strength.

  Atan is opposite. His skin color is light, but his eyes shine with inky depth. A deep, dark color that is dark and mysterious as the depth of the nights we avoid. He is more muscled than Diont, muscular and thick. In comparison, he makes Diont look lean. But then again, he makes most males look lean.

  “You can never be replaced.” Diont smiles, deep grooves cutting into the sides of his cheeks. “It will be a chore to bring another back in your place. But that is simply what we will have to do. Bring her back, have her take the language load, learn in the village for a few days
, and then we will return her and see if you are ready to come back for the return trip.”

  “I will be,” I assure them. I have every intention of getting a year’s worth of work done at home during that time so I will be free and clear.

  What I have not yet told them is how appalled my people will be that I have the audacity to reserve not one but two virile males. And I am not sure how I am going to play this. Will I pretend there is nothing going on? Will I admit to coveting them both?

  Am I really doing this? This is a huge step for me. It almost feels decadent, to share such intimate pleasure with two. I will never have such a chance again if I do not act on this now. On the other hand, is it leading them on? What would someone else in my position do?

  Screw that. Any female from my tribe would take what they are offering.

  A spark of possessiveness rolls through me at the thought of the females of my tribe flirting with Diont and Atan.

  At once, I decide to seize the opportunity the great goddess has offered me and wallow in selfish lust.

  The main fire is going out, but it smells deliciously smoky. Diont does the small clean up, setting our chairs away, gathering water for the fire, leaving me with Atan. My eyes never leave his form as he walks around the yard, straightening things before we head into the cave for the rest of the night. I’m aware of Atan’s eyes on me.

  Then the unusual situation dawns on me. “He’s straightening when another Blaedonian may wish to enjoy the flame we built. It’s early still.”

  Atan chuckles. “Yes. He knows. But Diont will never leave things awry.”

  So, we watch the magnificence that is Diont, strutting around, bending over, reaching for stuff, flinging boiling water over the pit in the ground to cause more smoke to waft up and highlight his magnificent physique...

  Then Atan speaks again. “Well, aren’t I the foolish one?”

  “What’s that?” I ask, never tearing my eyes from Diont.

  He laughs. “I thought I was being rather sly, sitting here next to you, having quality one-on-one time. I never realized his plan was to attract your attention with his shameless strutting back and forth.”

  Diont plops down on the opposite side of me so I’m sitting between them. He winks over at Atan. “Learned that little tidbit from watching Jeroc when he is with Tessa and Tijar.”

  I laugh as Atan chuckles wryly under his breath.

  I reach out on either side of me and run my hands up the bulging muscles of their arms.

  “I like that there are differences,” I say.

  “We are just as enamored of your differences,” Atan says, and his voice is different from the joking tone it had before. It’s velvety now, smooth and creamy. “I love your stripes,” Atan continues. “I’d like to taste each light one.”

  “And I’ll lick the dark stripes,” Diont counters, lifting my arm to place a kiss on my shoulder.

  “Are you kidding? You’ve both had tastes of me. This time, it’s my turn,” I grin.

  “What will you do?” Atan asks, his voice smooth and dark.

  “I’d like to seat you both at the nest in your cave and taste each of you. Compare the differences. Show you what it’s like to have my mouth warm from another.”

  Diont groans and Atan is breathing harder.

  “Then perhaps it is time to seal our cave for the night?”

  I smile as we get up and head inside. There is a strumming tension between the three of us because we all realize this is it. I am in their cave for the night, I have given my consent, and there will be no interruptions for once.

  This time, both men will find their pleasure also. I make my way to the fluffy furs of the larger of their nests while they straighten the cave leather in place over the door. It is framed with strips of bark to make it stiff like an actual barrier though I know enough about these peoples to know we will not be interrupted when it is covering the entrance. Atan uncovers the glow lights so there is enough light for us to be very clear as to what we are embarking on.

  Diont stands across the room and watches me undress. His nostrils flare slightly as he watches my weapons disband, as my leather skirt pulls from my hips, as my chest bindings leave my torso.

  I am naked by the time they return to me.

  Diont crawls behind me, adjusting me so I am leaning against his chest, his arm around my shoulders as Atan’s hands make their way up my tense calves. A small moan escapes my lips at the delicious pressure he uses.

  I’m aware of his eyes on my nipples where Diont’s arm presses down on my breasts possessively.

  “Does that feel good?” Diont asks, trailing a finger down the side of my neck. I nod against him, feeling the warmth of his chest against my back.

  “Atan has magic hands.”

  “I wish to watch those hands bring you to orgasm,” Diont mutters, and Atan grins as if laughing at the need in Diont’s voice. I understand exactly. The three of us have a connection. We crave each other. We need each other. And Atan knows what torture it is for Diont, who derives satisfaction from watching me with Atan.

  My eyes drift shut at the visual his words bring—Atan fingering me while Diont watches—and another moan leaves my lips. Atan’s massaging hands creep toward my thighs.

  “We will make you feel like the queen that you are. Fuck you until you can barely walk.” Diont’s voice is low and growly with heat, his lips barely brushing the etchings of my ear. Desire curls through my body at his sexy words and my eyes flutter open to see Atan has positioned himself to lean over me. His hands rest at the tops of my thighs, thumbs trailing a gentle pattern on the inner edge of my legs, inching them open slowly. The heat in his gaze reflects that of Diont's voice, but he’s got a visual. The sight of my wet sex bared before him.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “Fuck me so hard and so often I can barely walk.”

  They both laugh, throaty and deep, the sound going straight to my already wet cunt.

  “We are going to worship you. And we will never let you go. We will find you anywhere because we are going to mark you with our seed. With our scent…” I cut Atan’s words off by grabbing his head and slanting my lips against his. The hands on my hips tighten, but not painfully. His lips are soft, tasting delicious, and his tongue is demanding. I want to clench my thighs together, but they’re spread on either side of him. Diont joins with a growl, kissing and nipping the side of my neck up towards my jaw. A soft nibble on my left ear lobe has me moaning against Atan’s mouth.

  Between Atan and I, Diont cups my breasts.

  I reach up and reach behind me to tangle my fingers into Diont’s hair, tugging lightly. Atan runs his tongue against my bottom lip, his movements growing more demanding. I open to him, my legs wrapped around his waist. His hands cup my jaw, fingers curling into my hair as he deepens the kiss. I match his intensity with my own fervor, teeth nipping at lips in the midst of our passionate kiss.

  Weight shifting behind me, Diont takes over driving me crazy. Atan pulls back to watch. Instead of going for my mouth, Diont focuses on trailing kisses down the other side of my neck and across the curve of my shoulder. My heart flutters like a bird flapping its wings in my chest. Sitting up straighter into Diont’s embrace, I relax my legs, allowing my thighs to fall apart, spreading open the lips of my sex.

  “Beautiful,” Atan mutters, his eyes tear away from Diont’s kisses to focus on my cunt.

  I feel myself melt in their hands, brimming with pure bliss at their kisses and touches.

  Atan’s warm hands trail up the inside of my thighs, while Diont’s gently slide up to my breasts, tracing his thumbs around the sides, slowly moving towards the sensitive pierced tips. A shock of desire shoots straight between my legs, my cunt throbbing with need at the feeling of his hands tugging the thin decorative bones in my nipples. I feel Atan trace the smallest touch of his finger along my slit, barely gathering moisture. The touch feels magnified a hundred-fold, and I moan with desire.

  “So sensitive,” he growls, his
dark eyes flashing.

  “Such a tease,” I say and my voice sounds husky.

  “I cannot wait. Just one thrust,” Atan mutters and pushes forward. He molds himself to me, my core pressing deliciously into his hard cock that is straining to find its way inside me. But he refuses, instead pressing the length against my slit.

  Diont’s hands progressed from just running his thumbs over my nipples to cupping my breasts with a slight squeeze. I cannot hold back the breathy moans as excitement floods my core at the ecstasy drowning my system. I want more, and the unrelenting need makes me whimper. I grind against Atan, wetting his cock so much that I hope to make it slippery enough to slide inside me instead of just hitting my pleasure-nub with his rubbing. I am soaked with desire, and I’m sure my need covers Atan’s abdomen.

  “Goddess, Eretar,” Atan murmurs against my lips as I grind harder in intensity. Biting his lip and sucking it into my mouth draws a low moan from him, causing his chest to rumble with the sound.

  He pulls away enough to press hot kisses against the tops of my breasts as Diont holds them and plucks the nipples, reminding me of the pleasure he brings. In return, I run my left hand into his hair gripping tightly. As I turn towards Diont, our mouths clash desperately over my shoulder, and the heat of being between them makes my skin flush and my hips thrust. Diont’s hands leave my breasts to roam down to my wet folds.

  Atan stares at my breasts and with a pained groan. He leans down to lavish his attention on them, biting and sucking as he moves from one to the other. Goosebumps flare on his path, the feeling of his mouth heightened by the sensitivity of my skin. My hand wraps around the hard cock currently trapped between us. His hips grind forward as I run my hand down his length. The smooth feeling of his skin is such a contrast to the rock hardness that throbs in my palm as I slide my hand from base to head.

  “Eretar, my goddess,” he breathes, his muscular body shuddering at my strokes. He leans forward to take my nipple into his mouth, inadvertently pulling away from my hand. Atan pushes me to lay back against Diont’s chest as he trails hot, sucking kisses down my stomach. It's like they’re worshipping me. It’s like I have both of these stunning, amazing surface creatures at my beck and call.