Chosen for Their Use (Ventori Masters Book 4)

by Ivy Barrett

  Bron picked up the other artificial cock LeAuntiez had laid out between her legs and activated lubrication. This was the first time she’d seen a self-lubing toy, but she’d overheard the guards tell some of the other females about them. “This isn’t nearly as big as I am, but I think it will help.” Bron teased her anus for a moment, while LeAuntiez slid the other cock in and out.

  LeAuntiez captured her gaze as he said, “This is how it will feel when we claim you, when we both fuck you at the same time.” He cupped her breast, the move unmistakably possessive, as he continued to fuck her with the toy.

  Bron timed his first thrust to LeAuntiez’s outstroke and Kyla went wild. “Stop. Oh, God, please stop!”

  Pleasure and frantic need pulsed through her mind. She was so close to orgasm there wasn’t a force in the universe that could prevent it now.

  “Apologize and we’ll make this real,” LeAuntiez demanded. Shove deep, then stop. She’s really close.

  Bron complied, but it was too late. She arched off the bed, screaming as demanding spasms gripped her pussy and tightened her ass around the other toy. Pleasure spread through her entire body, consuming everything in its path. She tossed her head and twisted her hips, lost in the sensory maelstrom.

  For one perfect moment peace was absolute. Her mates were here and life was good. There was no grief, only blessed numbness.

  But two heartbeats later pain and paralyzing loss barreled toward her like an emotional tsunami. She sucked in a panicked breath and pleaded before the impending storm made it impossible to speak. “I’m sorry. Please, I’ve had enough. I want—I need you now.”

  Her words were unnecessary. Her mates knew and were already acting accordingly. Bron skillfully unfastened her restraints, while LeAuntiez removed the toys and set them aside. Then she was surrounded by warmth and muscular arms as her mates gently pressed her between them.

  She sobbed and sobbed, not even trying to hold back the pain. She wasn’t just grieving a dear friend. She’d lost the last connection to her old life, the only world she’d known for the past twenty-six years. It was gone. Everything and everyone was gone.

  The emotions crashed down upon her for the first few minutes, but the intensity faded much sooner than she’d expected. Apparently their unconventional therapy had been more cathartic than she’d realized. She lay between them feeling weak and sleepy.

  “Are you with us again?” Bron asked, gently stroking her hair. He pressed against her back, spooning her.

  “I never left you, and I never will,” she assured them. “This just caught me by surprise.”

  “Anyone would be upset, love,” LeAuntiez assured her. “This was one hell of a blow.”

  Her face was pressed against LeAuntiez’s chest, his arm supporting her neck. She rolled in a tight circle, not wanting to dislodge either one of them. Still, she really did need to apologize to Bron. She’d said some really cruel things. She pressed her hand to his face and looked deep into his eyes. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I know Erin’s death was the culmination of a lot of things. I should have tried harder to stop her from leaving. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No, but I played a part. When word spread that we’d located a potential mate who had never been touched before, the reactions were dangerously enthusiastic. I felt it safer to keep her here. Still, I was thinking more of the possible misbehavior of my men than I was of Erin. That wasn’t right. Her needs, her happiness, should have come first.”

  “I appreciate you saying that, but—”

  “It’s too little, too late.” He sighed and kissed her forehead. “I know.”

  She rolled to her back and they settled in close against her sides. They stroked her body, but their touches were meant to soothe, not arouse. She stared at the ceiling, searching her thoughts and feelings, analyzing her life. She looked for the hole left behind by Erin’s loss, but she didn’t feel any different. “It still doesn’t feel real. That’s why this was such a blindside. We were really close. I thought I’d sense her passing.”

  “You’re still in denial,” LeAuntiez said, sounding sleepy.

  “Or she’s still alive,” Kyla whispered and hope sparked within the ashes of her misery. “The Brokvata said they didn’t see any signs of a struggle. It’s possible—”

  Bron laid two fingers over her lips with a sigh. “Baby, don’t do that to yourself. Erin is dead. You have to accept it.”

  She nodded and didn’t say any more, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about Erin’s disappearance that they still didn’t understand.

  Chapter Nine

  The next four days passed in a blur of sensual nights and grueling days. Bron was inundated with requests for transfer to Camp Accord. Everyone wanted to be part of the colony. Even those who hadn’t scored high enough on the matching matrix to qualify for a mate wanted to participate in the program. Apparently, LeAuntiez and Bron weren’t the only ones weary of war.

  On the other side of the equation, the Protectorate had begun the search for Rh-negative females in earnest. Bron had contacted Earth’s governments and explained the situation, proposing that the original contract be expanded to include a second program designed to recruit potential mates. As with the carnal compensation program, the US government had been the most responsive to Bron’s proposal. Already applications from American females with Rh-negative blood were rolling in, ready for consideration by the high command.

  With both Zapt and Nunez in custody, Bron expected the rebel activity to fizzle and fade. No such luck. The day following Zapt’s capture there had been four rebel attacks, each causing damage but resulting in no loss of life.

  The two days following that were even worse. A supply convoy had been bombed by multiple rebel ships, killing forty-seven crewmembers. So Bron called an emergency meeting of the high command. They weren’t sure if Zapt managed to orchestrate the attacks himself or if his network was so well organized they knew what he’d want them to accomplish. The worst possibility was also the most probable. It seemed as if someone even more aggressive than Zapt had taken his place.

  One thing was clear. The only way to ensure that Zapt wasn’t the fire fueling the rebel movement was to snuff out his flame. There was a risk that his execution would incite the rebellion, give them a martyr around which to rally, but Bron agreed with his ministers that it was worth the risk. Zapt’s execution had been carried out later that afternoon without any sort of announcement or fanfare.

  What to do with Roberta Nunez had been much harder to decide. The ministers weren’t unanimous and two hours of debate only made each side more committed to their position. Half of the ministers wanted her dead, while the other half—along with Kyla—wanted her transported to a distant outpost and left with no resources or hope of returning to Earth.

  Kyla insisted that an instantaneous death was too easy for anyone who would sell out their own people. Bron agreed, but turning Nunez loose, even on some secluded world was not a viable alternative. So he proposed that Nunez be transferred to Vos Straug 3, a penal colony known for harsh conditions and demanding hard work from their inmates. Escape was impossible, because the rest of the small planet was uninhabitable. The ministers agreed and the arrangements were made. All they could do now was wait and see if the decision had any effect on the rebels.

  That brought him to this morning, which had been busy, yet mercifully uneventful. Deciding to take advantage of the lull, Bron deactivated his access terminal and left his office. He pinged LeAuntiez requesting a conversation without butting into his mind.

  Is something wrong? Anxiety rippled along with LeAuntiez’s question.

  Shockingly, no. I was hoping you could sneak away and have lunch with Kyla and me.

  Sounds wonderful. I’ll meet you at home.

  Copy.

  Bron stopped by the kitchen and placed a takeout order, then chatted with the head cook as his team prepared the food. Personal relationships were important to the smooth operatio
n of any organization, so Bron tried hard to visit as many of the outposts and ships as possible. There was no excuse for a leader not knowing the pivotal players right under his or her own roof.

  Headquarters was down to two female guests, Jasmine and Olivia. Star had been transferred to Camp Accord and subsequently claimed by a very strict four-member pod. For some reason Kyla and the other two found the news amusing. He’d known Star was unpopular, but didn’t have the time or energy to figure out why.

  The novelty of having abundant free time had long since worn off for all the females. They were restless and more than ready for tasks that would give their lives purpose again. Once they were soul-bonded and conceived, their primary focus would be rearing their children, but Kyla insisted human females often required other forms of intellectual stimulation. Finding the right balance between Ventori expectations and human needs was more challenging than Bron had anticipated. He was sure that Kyla would be an invaluable advisor once she accepted the role of being Chancellor Savator’s mate.

  He walked into the women’s lounge a few minutes later, takeout package clasped in one hand. The three females sat around a small round table with a digi-sheet placed on the tabletop between them. Some sort of holo-game was being projected by the small device. He didn’t recognize the game, didn’t have much time to play them himself. All three females looked up and Kyla smiled.

  “I hope you haven’t eaten,” he said, holding up the takeout package. “LeAuntiez and I actually have time for a midday meal.”

  “You’re just in time,” she assured him as she pushed back from the table. “We were about to order.” She looked at the others, seeming a bit embarrassed. “You’ll have to finish without me. See you tomorrow.”

  “Enjoy your lunch.” Jasmine put dramatic emphasis on the word then winked at Kyla.

  Kyla just waved and hurried across the room. Her cheeks were noticeably pinker.

  LeAuntiez was already there when they reached the house. He’d laid out plates and flatware and was filling glasses with ice from the dispenser in the front of the refrigeration unit. “What would you like to drink?” he asked as the joined him in the kitchen.

  “Just water is fine with me,” Kyla told him.

  “The same.”

  Bron seated her at the table then moved to his place and unpacked the takeout package, laying out the various selections. He’d kept the meal light and not too spicy, hoping they’d end up in bed shortly after they ate. There were three strange round items in the bottom of the reusable bag. Each object was disk-shaped and white striped in red. The disks were wrapped in a transparent film that had been twisted to each side of the object. He held one up by the film. “Kyla, is this an American edible?”

  She looked at the thing and laughed. “It’s peppermint candy. Humans suck on them after a meal. It’s mildly sweet and leaves the breath fresh and minty.”

  “I see. Someone in the kitchen is having fun at our expense,” he grumbled.

  “Someone in the kitchen is envying us,” she countered and took the peppermint candies from his resentful fist. “Relax. Not everything is an insult.”

  Accepting her advice with a nod, Bron sat down.

  LeAuntiez set a glass of ice water in front of each plate then sat as well. “Looks good and I’m starving.”

  They filled Kyla’s plate before making their own selections. They managed to keep the conversation light as the meal began, but one question led to another and inevitably the subjects grew darker.

  “When’s the last time the Skarilians were seen in this star system?” Kyla asked.

  “We shot down one of their scout ships last week,” Bron told her. Keeping her ignorant of the danger was not the same as protecting her from it. This was her planet and her people. She had a right to know that it wasn’t over. “The Skarilians hate to leave things incomplete. Ventor is proof of that. They will return and we’ll be ready for them when they do.”

  She nodded then took several bites before speaking again. She looked at LeAuntiez and asked, “Did you figure out who or what shot at you in the hacienda?”

  LeAuntiez shook his head. “We may never know. Several of the rebel ships have camouflage shielding, so it’s not a stretch to think they have body armor that utilizes the same technology.”

  “But isn’t everything they have stolen from the Protectorate? Do you guys have camouflage body armor?”

  “We honestly don’t know their capabilities,” Bron admitted, “which is a very big problem. Most of their tech was stolen from us, but we’ve spotted Melmon and Vashtee ships among their raiding parties. The Vashtee have been tinkering with various forms of invisibility illusions for years. It’s likely LeAuntiez encountered some sort of prototype. At least, we hope that’s all it was.”

  “How can you fight the rebels and the Skarilians?” Fear surged across their link and Bron reached across the table and took her hand.

  “We will have dealt with the rebels long before the Skarilians get here,” Bron insisted as he gently squeezed her fingers. “There is nothing to worry about.”

  She shot him a frustrated look and LeAuntiez replied, “We’re not saying the danger isn’t real. It is. But we’re called the Protectorate for a reason. We have been fighting the Skarilians for many years. We’ve driven them out of one star system after another. They will do no more damage on Earth. We will not allow it.”

  “But where are they now? Who are they murdering so we can enjoy this short time of peace?”

  It was a valid question and Bron had no comforting answer.

  “We’re doing everything we can,” LeAuntiez defended. “We are just one group of fighters.”

  “Maybe the rebels are right.” She looked at each of them then dropped her gaze to her plate. “Bartering in human females was inexcusable, but maybe if we band together with other victims we can finally end this war.”

  Bron didn’t even try to argue with her. The same thought had crossed his mind more than once. Earth might be safe for the time being, but what about the rest of the galaxy? The Skarilians were a plague, a ravenous scourge that was systematically devouring everything in its path. There had to be a way to neutralize the infection, but the Protectorate couldn’t do it all by themselves.

  “Enough of war and devastation,” LeAuntiez said firmly. “Have you and the other females decided how you’d like to spend your time?”

  “Actually, we were talking about that off and on all morning.” Kyla perked up as soon as they changed the subject. She’d done remarkably well in the past few days. She still had moments of sadness whenever she thought about Erin, but seemed able to talk herself out of it quite easily. She hadn’t mentioned the possibility that Erin was still alive again, but Bron feared that was the reason for her cheer. If she was giving in to denial, they would be back to square one.

  “So what did you and your friends decide?” LeAuntiez prompted.

  “Olivia had a wonderful idea, but I’m not sure if you’ll allow it.” She looked at Bron.

  “Try me.” Hadn’t she figured out yet that he’d do just about anything for her?

  “Since you have so many of your men interested in moving to Camp Accord, we think it might be helpful for them to be presented with a basic outline of what they can expect from human females, social norms, personality types, maybe even some communication strategies. We were put through a sort of orientation that explained the basic expectations of Ventori Defenders. Are your men given a similar orientation regarding human females?”

  Bron thought for a moment and was shocked to realize something like this had never been suggested before. Even in the contracts used to obtain a carnal companion it was usually the male stating what he expected from the female. Expectations of the females were never considered. They might be able to prevent a lot of misunderstandings if they were more open about what each side needed.

  “I’m intrigued by the idea. Why don’t you three put together an outline of what would be covered in this ori
entation. I’d like to see the specifics of what you have in mind before I give my approval.”

  “All right.” She nodded. “We can do that.”

  She seemed pleased with his reaction so he let the subject drop. They chatted casually as they finished the meal. Then Bron cleared away the dishes while LeAuntiez put away the food they hadn’t eaten. Kyla gave them each a peppermint candy to suck on while they completed their tasks and said she’d meet them upstairs. Her secretive smile made LeAuntiez and Bron hurry through their cleanup.

  They’d been focused on comforting her for the past four days. Erin’s death hit her hard and they wanted to support her in any way they could. Still, Bron missed being free to unleash his dominant nature. He could sense LeAuntiez holding back as well.

  They opened the double doors to the master bedroom and stepped inside together. Kyla knelt on the end of the bed, ass on her heels, gloriously naked. Her silky hair fell across her shoulders in dark waves and her eyes had never looked so green. A sexy smile bowed her lips without parting them and she slowly opened her legs, displaying her pink pussy.

  She spoke in a soft, serious tone before either could catch their breath. “You two have been coddling me and I want it to end right now. Yes, I miss Erin, but I’m used to loss by now. I know how to recover from it. That process has started, and I miss your intensity.”

  Bron crossed to the bed and caught her upper arms, drawing her up off her heels. “Do you dare to order your master in his own bedroom?” He flooded her mind with affection so there was no doubt he was responding to her request.

  “Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, likely trying not to smile.

  “Which is it?” LeAuntiez suddenly stood beside him. “Yes or no?”

  Her forehead furrowed and she looked at Bron. “What was the question again?”