Braden removed his own clothes without taking his eyes off Katarina. The man moved like a robot, entire body stiff except for his widening blue eyes.
Calder stood comfortably in the sleeveless tunic he’d taken to wearing. The black chain on his arm, identical to Braden’s, indicated what he was—Shareem, still enslaved—but he’d never been so happy to show off his chains. He was enslaved to Katarina now, and that was all that mattered.
Braden moved quickly to the bed, spread himself on it, and pressed his thumb behind his rock-hard cock. “I’m ready. Don’t hesitate on my account.”
Katarina slanted Calder a glance. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Calder said. “Obey me, Katarina, or punishment follows.”
“I’m having my punishment now,” Braden said. “Please, I’m dying over here.”
Katarina smiled. It was a hot smile, full of wickedness but also excitement and trust. She knew why Calder wanted to share with Braden, what Calder planned to do. He’d talked about it and described it, but this was the first day he’d said she was ready.
Katarina approached the bed—wise Judith had altered it to be low enough for a woman to easily climb on it to mount a man—and put her hands on Braden’s chest.
Calder held his breath, his blood hot, his cock pounding, as Katarina slid her thigh over Braden’s hips. Braden caught her arms, then Katarina, with a little sigh, lowered herself onto Braden’s cock.
Braden’s head went back. “Thank you my friend. Oh, that’s nice.”
Katarina started to rock, impaled on Braden, her eyes closed, lost in the feeling. Her pheromones flooded the room, Calder’s lady learning how to let go and take pleasure when it was offered. Only with Calder there, of course. With his permission.
Katarina smiled over her shoulder at Calder. Oh, yes, the woman belonged to him, and Calder belonged to her. She’d roped and tied him with her love, and Calder didn’t mind in the slightest.
Braden closed his fists. “Gods, her pussy is tight. And so damn wet. You are a generous man.”
“You helped us, my friend,” Calder said. If Braden hadn’t made so stubbornly sure that Katarina stayed in Calder’s life, Calder would still be alone, broken, ruined, the Beast. Nothing more.
Katarina had closed her eyes again, silently riding. Her round hips moved back and forth, sweat shining on her skin.
Calder couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled off his tunic and loincloth, freeing his cock, which sprang out with relief. He climbed onto the bed behind Katarina, and she curled back into his chest as he put his arms around her.
“Lie down on him,” Calder said in her ear. “Raise your hips, like I showed you.”
Katarina nodded. She lowered herself to Braden’s chest, positioning herself.
Calder’s heart thumped. He’d taught her so much this last month, using more and more toys, and teaching her new positions and techniques.
She’d never had two cocks, though. This would be a first.
Calder looked down at the lovely backside waiting for him and couldn’t resist giving it a few spanks. Katarina squealed, then she laughed.
Next came the lube. Calder had asked Aiden, the master of sensual oils, to mix a batch for him, something that Katarina would love. The result was a smooth concoction of warm-scented lube, smelling a little of roses and sandalwood. The odor filled the room, and Katarina smiled.
“Mmm, my favorite,” she murmured.
Calder slicked his fingers and worked them into her ass, gently softening and opening her. She could relax much faster now, used to his caresses and preparing for what would come.
Katarina made a happy noise when Calder parted her cheeks. He glided his cock in slowly, moving deeper the more she relaxed.
Then her eyes popped open. “Oh.”
Braden smoothed his hands down her arms. “You all right, sweetheart? Calder’s big.”
“I can feel you both. Inside me. I can feel you pressing me. Gods.”
Braden grinned. “Yeah, Shareem are pretty much gods.”
“Shut up,” Calder said. His teeth clenched, and it was all he could do not to pump. He felt Braden too, at least the pressure of him through her walls. “Can you take us, baby?”
“Yes.” Katarina’s words came out between gasps. “Yes, I can. I want to.”
“Good.” Very slowly, Calder began his thrusts.
Braden knew how it was done. He timed his own slides in and out with Calder’s, so that Katarina had a cock in her at all times. She was moaning, incoherent, her eyes closed, head lolling.
They rode her, back and forth, gentle but firm, until she cried out her release.
Calder closed his hand around her breast. “Do you want us to stop, love?”
“No!” Her shout rang against the ceiling. Good thing the bar was full tonight, although Calder suspected that Judith had soundproofed her sex room.
“That’s my girl.” Calder smiled and kissed her cheek.
Her scent surrounded him, coupled with sandalwood and roses, her warmth and her love. He loved how she made him feel, loved bringing her to ultimate pleasure like this.
Braden grabbed Calder’s shoulders. His eyes were wide, the blue filling them completely. He said, “Fuck,” and came.
A moment later, Katarina gyrated in yet another orgasm, but Calder held on. He wanted this to last forever, him inside Katarina’s sweet ass, her voice filling his ears, her hair like silk under his lips.
But he had only so much stamina. Calder groaned out loud as his hips pumped without his permission, and then he was spilling his seed and falling against his beloved, who was supported by the strong arms of his best friend. Katarina turned her head and kissed Calder sleepily, and Calder’s heart swelled and warmed.
Braden let out a breath then laughed. “Well, that was good,” he said and closed his eyes.
Calder didn’t answer, content to be buried in Katarina’s beautiful, tight ass.
“I love you,” he murmured. “Love you so much.”
“Love you too.” Katarina’s voice was hoarse from all her shouting. She smiled at him, and Calder kissed her again.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Her smile turned suddenly sly. “Can the Beast come out to play?”
Calder stilled. She was slick with lube and squeezing him tight, but his heart beat in new excitement.
He scraped her hair back from her face and bit the shell of her ear. “Oh, Katarina. You asked for it.”
“I did.”
“The Beast is all yours, love. And he’s going to fuck you until you can’t stand up.”
“That’s what I was hoping.”
Calder growled, his excitement growing. Braden, still inside her, opened his eyes again. “Hey, can I play too?”
Calder nodded, then he and Braden did things to Katarina that would make Calder come just remembering them later.
But when he and Katarina fell asleep that night in Katarina’s house—in their own bed alone—his lifemate nestled into Calder’s arms and gave him a smile that was only for Calder . . . melting the Beast’s heart.
End
Braden
Tales of the Shareem
Book 5
Chapter One
A Shareem walks into a library . . .
“Be careful in there,” Ky had growled. “All those dead subjects will shrivel your cock. And a Shareem without a cock isn’t good for shit.”
Braden followed the path through the three-story atrium that had galleries of terminals, a trickling waterfall, a peaceful hush. Libraries had only recently started allowing Shareem inside, because seven-foot-tall men who radiated sexuality were way too dangerous to be around normal people.
The librarian at the end of the walkway pretended not to notice Braden, but her awareness of him screamed itself to Braden’s fine-tuned senses. He saw her eyes flicker, though she kept them on the screen, felt the slight rise in her body temperature, the lift of her breasts under all those robes. She’d notice
d him all right.
The lady tapped her terminal with slender, sure fingers, her veil looped back to reveal a smooth face and wide brown eyes. Her nose was a little crooked, and she hadn’t had it fixed, which meant she wasn’t self-conscious. Probably didn’t even know she was lovely.
Robes that announced her as single and celibate clung to a body that made Braden long to teach her that celibacy wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Ky was an idiot. The library wasn’t shriveling Braden’s cock, it was making it grow.
Braden reached the counter and stretched his arms along its edge. The librarian’s gaze shot to the black chain on his biceps before she made herself look into his eyes.
“May I help you?”
Oh, you may darling, you may.
Do me a favor, Braden, Rees had said, when Braden had volunteered to go to the Serestine Quarter library for the information. Be subtle.
Hey, I got this.
Rees had rolled his eyes. Just get them to let you use the terminal.
Braden answered the librarian’s question with a smile. “Depends on what you mean by help.”
“I mean, what are you looking for?”
Her soft, whispery voice made his hard-on grow. You, sweet darling. “I want to look up singing spheres.”
“Ah.”
Did she look disappointed? Braden hoped she looked disappointed. He could take her out to the heat-shielded garden behind the library and help her shimmy off those celibate’s robes and show her what she was missing. Braden would get terminated for it, but damn, wouldn’t he have fun before the end?
“A friend of mine makes singing spheres,” Braden said, sticking to what he’d rehearsed. “I thought I’d look them up.”
Her brown eyes had flecks of green in them. He’d bet she had an off-planet ancestor somewhere in her makeup.
“Why not ask your friend about them?” she asked.
Logical. Why’d she have to be logical? She was supposed to shiver and smile and let Braden do anything he wanted.
“Because Shareem have never been allowed into libraries before,” he said, trying to sound offhand. “Looking up singing spheres was a good excuse to come in.”
She smelled great too. Braden inhaled a mixture of soap and female, no perfume, thank the gods. Nothing to get in the way of her.
His skin tingled with the pheromones she gave off. Her robes were thick, but he imagined her nipples pearling behind them. All he had to do was corner her and cup his hand over her breast, and he’d find her nice and firm, nipples hard as little pebbles.
The librarian cleared her throat, and Braden popped his eyes open, realizing he’d drifted to fantasy land.
“Any of the terminals on this floor will tell you about singing spheres.”
Her voice was prim, but the dusky tone of it already had his blood hot. If Braden were kind, he’d go to the terminal, look up his stuff, and leave her alone.
But Braden wasn’t kind, and he’d been sent here on a mission. Rees’ instructions had been very specific.
He slid his hands farther apart on the desk, leaning down to her eye level. “Those terminals will tell me a little. But I want to know everything. Details on mining, geology, the artists, impact on the planet’s economy, stuff like that.”
The librarian blinked. She’d probably been told that Shareem couldn’t understand complex concepts like geology and economic impact, let alone spell “economic impact.”
To most, Shareem were little better than animals, considered nonhuman. Walking hormones bred for a lady’s pleasure.
The information Rees needed wasn’t restricted, but the terminal Braden would need to use to get it was. The library’s usual terminals accessed information from every public source it could find. But Braden needed to look into the databases of Bor Nargan’s own ministries, which were not open to the public. Much trickier.
The librarian cleared her throat. “Let me check something.”
“You take your time, sweetheart.”
Her fingers skimmed rapidly over her screens and her keyboard, her touch featherlight. Braden imagined those fingers doing their dance over his body, and he shifted, his cock rock hard in his leggings.
The librarian apparently found nothing on her screens that said Shareem couldn’t use the restricted terminal. Braden knew she wouldn’t, because Rees had already checked.
The new regulations let Shareem use libraries and library materials without limitation, provided they were supervised by a high-ranking librarian. This lady was head of the reference department. Her holo-pic and name—Elisa n’Arell—were listed on the library’s information site and posted by the front door as well.
The fact that she had a body that made Braden wanted to peel back her robes and lick her was a bonus.
The librarian clicked off her terminal with a decided touch. “Very well. Please come with me.”
Her robes swirled as she came around the desk, showing a flash of slender ankles above sensible shoes. Sensible shoes. Be still my beating heart.
But she was a celibate, from one of those Way of the Whatever orders. She’d already taken the robes and declared herself completely off-limits to all males, especially Shareem.
“Sit here,” she said.
Braden plopped into the chair, enjoying the sensation of a sweetheart commanding him instead of the other way around. Braden was a level three, which meant the lady should obey him.
The cubicle with the terminal had sound-muffling—perfect.
“What’s your name, love?” Braden asked. He knew it, but he wanted her to tell him.
“Shh.”
“Hmm. OK, Shh is an unusual name, but I can go with it.”
She frowned, and that looked cute too. “I mean, be quiet.”
Braden pointed to the wavy glass. “There’s sound-muffling.”
“Which is not the same as soundproofing. We mustn’t disturb the others.”
Mustn’t. Damn, Braden had met a woman who used mustn’t in everyday conversation.
Did she say other sexy words, like shan’t? How about something big, like wherewithal?
Braden, I shan’t resist your commands, and I have the wherewithal to ride your cock all night.
Oh, yeah. And Ky thought libraries were boring?
The librarian leaned past him, silk robes carrying her sweet scent, and pulled a touchpad toward him. “We keep a record of who uses this terminal,” she said. “I need your thumbprint.”
Braden held up his thumb and smiled. “Mine’s too big.”
True. Braden’s hands were large, the touchpad designed for slim female fingers. Bor Narga discriminated like that—women ruled, men were in the background, which today worked to Braden’s advantage.
Rees had looked this up too. A thumbprint was needed to access the terminal, but the thumbprint of the authorizing librarian was just as good. Better, even.
It’s perfectly fine for a librarian to look at what I need you to find out, Rees had said. No suspicions raised.
The librarian’s impatient breath huffed warmth on Braden’s skin. Her breath was minty, and her lips would taste as good.
She pressed her thumbprint to the pad after a moment’s hesitation and started typing on the keyboard.
Braden felt a twinge of guilt as he smiled his thanks. This sweetheart deserved to be kissed, stroked, pleasured, teased, not used for her Ministry clearance.
The librarian touched the screen and a picture of a multicolored crystal floated out of it. “There you are. A singing sphere.”
“Beautiful,” Braden said, looking at her.
Singing spheres, made from crystals mined in the desert mountains, radiated exquisite music when touched. The spheres were rare, prized, and hideously expensive. A Shareem Braden knew, Rylan, lived out in the middle of nowhere with Maia, his lifemate, and crafted them.
“I’ve always wanted one,” the librarian said, her voice wistful. She was looking at the screen, eyes soft.
Braden su
ddenly pictured himself giving her a singing sphere, as a thank-you gift. He envisioned her surprise and delight, her warm smile, the light in her eyes. He’d kiss her as she cooed her thanks, and he’d savor the sweetness of her mouth.
Hell.
The librarian’s scent brushed him as she touched labels on the screen. “This is the economic database, and this one is the export database.”
“Thank you, love. I appreciate it.”
Braden couldn’t technically touch her without permission, but he managed to slide his fingers down the backs of hers as he reached for the touchpad.
Her eyes darkened—lovely, lovely eyes. Her eyelashes were black as night, and Braden wanted to kiss them. Better still, have them fluttering on his cock.
Her eyes had a darker brown ring around the irises, another indication of an off-world ancestor. Braden could study her eyes for hours.
He’d like it best in his bed, with her soft body beneath his. He’d ride her slowly, then faster, fists planted on either side of her, watching those eyes as he took her to climax.
The librarian blushed, pulled her hand away, and said quickly, “I’ll leave you to it.”
Braden could tell that she tried not to touch him as she walked away, but the silk of her robes brushed his bare calf. The whisper of fabric licked erotic currents through Braden’s body and made his unruly cock stiffer than ever.
He sat for a long time after she left him, trying to convince his cock and his imagination to behave. Braden wanted sex, and he wanted to have this librarian in all ways invented, and then he wanted to invent some more just for her.
Braden drew a long breath. She’s celibate, and I’m here to do a job.
Fuck, fuck, fucking hell.
Braden pressed his palms to the table and closed his eyes. Fighting his genetic programming was a serious bitch, but he had to do it. He had to get the info for Rees.
It took a while for the white-hot pressure to go down, but at last Braden opened his eyes and made himself get on with it.
Braden ditched the info on the singing spheres, brought up cargo shipping schedules, and started tapping information into the handheld that he’d hidden in his pocket.
Tales of the Shareem, Volume 2 Page 17