Ride to Ecstasy

by Jory Strong

  Kaeden nearly guided himself to the place that would bring incredible pleasure to both of them. He forced himself off and away from Zyan instead, before temptation got the better of him. “Let’s eat the fruit first.”

  Zyan took his own hardened length in hand, watching as Kaeden’s gaze locked onto the sight of him stroking his thumb over the head, smoothing the moisture across it. He laughed softly as Kaeden’s tongue darted out, bringing with it carnal fantasies and remembered enjoyment.

  They knew each other thoroughly, could read each other’s needs and desires and fears as if there had never been a time when they weren’t together, as if there’d never been days on end during their courtship when an uncertainty of feelings and thoughts lay between them.

  Imagining his mouth on Kaeden’s cock as Kaeden returned the favor, he said, “Talk won’t be necessary while we share the vision.”

  It was enough to send Kaeden burrowing through their discarded clothing for the pouch containing the small red fruit. But when Kaeden would have returned to the dominant position, Zyan laughed and sat. “Oh no, you relinquished being on top. Now it’s my turn.”

  Kaeden acquiesced by placing the fruit between his lips, teeth holding it steady, in offering and symbolic sharing.

  Zyan leaned in, heart racing in anticipation of the vision that would soon come, changing their lives forever.

  He bit down on the small red globe.

  Sweet sensation flooded his mouth. An explosion of taste quickly absorbed. A fire that plunged into his bloodstream and arrowed to his cock and testicles.

  On a moan he pushed Kaeden onto his back, ravenous for the feel of skin against skin, for the clasp of a hot, tight sheath around his cock.

  A quick thrust. A shallow first penetration and he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was deep inside, both of them shuddering in ecstasy.

  It took every ounce of willpower Zyan possessed not to shove his arms beneath Kaeden’s thighs and lift his hips upward. Instead he positioned himself at Kaeden’s head, their mouths touching and tongues rubbing in a prelude to the more carnal kiss they both craved, one of parted lips and heated sucks to the other’s cock.

  The rub and thrust of tongues had his erection throbbing where it pressed to his belly, demanding he move toward his ultimate goal. He felt feverish, the effects of the gajaalo fruit multiplying the inferno of lust that already existed between the two of them.

  “Down,” Kaeden whispered, and Zyan didn’t have the willpower to draw out the torment, not when the sand beneath the bedroll accommodated a position that allowed for tongued exploration and the firm sucks of masculine mouths.

  He left Kaeden’s lips, pausing briefly to suck Kaeden’s nipples, and had his own sucked in return. To dart his tongue into Kaeden’s navel and feel the caress reciprocated.

  His breathing was fast, erratic by the time he reached Kaeden’s cock. He grasped it and shuddered as his own was grasped in turn. Moaned as the tip of his penis disappeared between Kaeden’s lips.

  Tormenting rasps of Kaeden’s tongue followed and Zyan returned the favor, finding Kaeden’s taste made more potent by the gajaalo fruit.

  The barriers of self and physical definition dissolved in a blaze of heat, in circular ecstasy. He was not only himself but Kaeden. As Kaeden became him.

  There was no distinction between the two of them. He felt Kaeden’s sexual pleasure as if it were his own, felt too the intensity of Kaeden’s emotions, the love connecting them even when their bodies were separated.

  He heard echoing moans, his through Kaeden’s ears. And then came Kaeden’s words, the union of mind. Suck me harder. Take me deeper.

  I want the same, Zyan answered, giving and getting it, his free hand roaming, caressing Kaeden’s back and buttocks. His skin—their skin—slick with sweat as testicles grew swollen and cocks throbbed, as pleasure doubled and redoubled with each lash of a tongue, each pull and swallow.

  Release came in a rush and it was like flying into the sun. Scorching heat and blinding light, followed by the face of a woman.

  Zyan’s heart expanded in his chest to hold the love he would soon feel for her, and Kaeden’s did the same, though nearly in unison they each asked the other, Do you see her?

  Yes.

  Yes.

  Awe in both their voices that she could be meant for them.

  She’s so finely made, Kaeden whispered in Zyan’s mind. So beautiful and delicate.

  Exquisite, Zyan said, taking in everything of their third’s features, from the long flowing hair to the lips created to give and receive pleasure.

  A shudder went through him at imagining her mouth touched to his. A lust echoed in Kaeden, returned with the fantasy of those same feminine lips trailing downward, over taut masculine nipples, before being pressed to rigid cocks.

  Zyan hardened instantly. I can see nothing of what world she calls home. Can you?

  As if the question directed the vision, the image of the woman shattered in a whirlwind of golden sand that settled on a landscape both were well familiar with, a place not far from the oasis.

  A sense of time accompanied the image. Today. And by the position of the sun, they would need to leave within the hour if they were to claim the woman meant for them.

  The race of Zyan’s heart became one of fear rather than anticipation, trepidation rather than joy. And in the wake of those emotions, the familiar landscape and connection to Kaeden fell away, leaving renewed desire and a burning need for physical intimacy and comfort.

  Zyan rose to his knees, retrieving the small vial of lubricant from its concealing pocket in the bedrolls before repositioning himself between Kaeden’s legs.

  He coated his cock, still wet from Kaeden’s mouth. And this time he didn’t stop himself from shoving his arms beneath Kaeden’s thighs, though it took no strength to coax Kaeden into position.

  Kaeden lifted his hips off the bedroll, as anxious for penetration as Zyan was to press his cock head to the dark opening, and with a quick first thrust, breach it.

  “Hurry,” Kaeden said on a pant.

  The sight of Kaeden’s thick, swollen length lying along his muscle-hard belly would have been motivation enough for Zyan to obey. He pressed forward, working his body into Kaeden’s. The act accompanied by the sound of ragged breathing and moans.

  By the sharper sounds of pleasure when slow movement gave way to fast, to the rhythmic retreat and return of his cock.

  And then Kaeden’s shout as tight muscles clamped savagely on Zyan’s length, making him come even as semen jetted from Kaeden’s cock to wet the both of them.

  Neither spoke as, contemplating what they’d seen, they cleaned themselves using powdered soap and water stored in urns and set aside for that purpose, then got in a small man-made pool. Both were aware of the light subtly changing, moving closer to the moment when they would have to leave the oasis if they were to reach the place they’d seen at the time prescribed by the vision.

  It was Kaeden who finally broke the silence. “The treaty forbids stealing a woman belonging to another pair. If we take her and discover afterward that she’s already been claimed, we’ll be killed despite having seen her in our joining vision.”

  “I know. But what if she’s been brought to this world but isn’t yet officially part of a joining? If that’s the case, then there is reason to believe we could take the matter to the Council of Tribes.”

  Kaeden looked in the direction where she would soon be, if the vision was a true one.

  He’d never heard of a pair being given a false one, but there were stories of men dying when they went to claim the female meant for them. Who was to say this couldn’t end the same way? Though Zyan’s point was a valid one.

  Each tribe had its own way of determining which pairs were allowed to add a female, and how that female was to be selected. Each tribe had its own rules concerning tribe membership.

  “If she’s really unclaimed,” Kaeden said, “we would probably be awarded the right to her on
the strength of seeing her in a joining vision, especially if she expressed a preference to remain with us. But we might be required to give up the horses as reparation.”

  “True enough.”

  The water stirred as Zyan turned. “The question is, do we want this badly enough to risk losing everything for it?”

  Kaeden managed a laugh as he looked away from the sky to meet Zyan’s gaze. “You’re asking me, the one who is always being chided for worrying that change might just as likely be for the worse as for the better?”

  Zyan smiled, a fleeting show of amusement followed by seriousness as he leaned in so their faces were only inches apart. “We love each other. Do we want to add a woman only to breed? Or only because one of us thinks the other needs it in order to be completely happy? Truth, Kaeden. If the answer to either of those questions for you is yes, then I say let’s choose not to act on this vision.”

  For all his chafing at the prospect of change, for all the anticipation that had as its flip side, worry, Kaeden knew the truth of what his heart and soul and body wanted—Zyan, shared with a woman they both adored, a female who would become the center of their world as she shared their lives, making them richer with her presence and the children she would bear them.

  With a sigh he touched his forehead to Zyan’s. “Truth. The answer to both those questions is no. If we hadn’t sought a vision, and received one, it wouldn’t diminish my happiness or my contentment. But when I hear the sounds of lovemaking coming from the tents of those joined to a woman, I’m aroused by the thought of lying on top of one and being held deep inside her body. When I see a nursing mother, or one with nipples pressed to material wet from leaking milk, it’s not only the thought of siring children that makes me fantasize about us adding a third.”

  Kaeden’s cock grew hard and Zyan found it beneath the water, encircling it with fingers, whispering, “You’re not alone in the things you imagine. I wonder what it would be like to caress skin that’s soft in the places we’re hard. To suckle at breasts heavy with milk. Or suckle knowing that one day they will be.”

  A pant escaped Kaeden in imagining it, at discovering Zyan shared this fantasy as well. He found Zyan’s cock, hardened too, and grasped it, sliding his hand up and down the hot, thick length of it. “And then there’s the fantasy we’ve always spoken openly of, to have our third stretched between us, with both of us held inside her, giving each other pleasure as we give her the same.”

  “Yes.”

  “We go? We follow the vision into the desert?”

  “I say yes. And you?”

  “Yes.”

  Lips touched, confirming the decision with a kiss that led to another, and another. To Zyan’s soft laugh as he allowed himself to be maneuvered so he could be mounted.

  “I think I better understand now why the gajaalo fruit is so rare on Adjara,” he said. “We’ve had long days spent in lovemaking before, when sandstorms sent us to our tent for shelter, but even on those, there have been stretches when the mind was more than willing to couple but the flesh demanded recovery time.”

  A shudder went through Kaeden. He paused, his hands on Zyan’s buttocks, spreading them, the tip of his penis pressed to Zyan’s opening. “Maybe we should save what remains of the gajaalo fruit’s effect for when we find our third.”

  Zyan laughed. “You worry again. The mere sight of her, and the knowledge she is meant to be ours, will be enough to arouse us, and keep us that way.” He rocked backward, making further argument impossible.

  * * * * *

  Karena woke with a start, her hand between her legs. Her mound hot and her clit pressed to her palm.

  For a moment she was disoriented in the darkness. Lost in the hazy remnants of a dream where she lay between the same two men, pleasured by them and pleasuring them in return.

  The fantasy fell away abruptly with the sound of the barrel lid opening. And then she was blinded by light.

  There was no chance to see a face, or even hands. There was only an impression of black gloves and black clothing, black masks with eye slits as the men wearing them reached in, grabbing her. Pulling her out and thrusting her into yet another enclosure, this one roomier, with windows though they were darkened.

  The door shut quickly, locking with an odd sound. And though she’d never seen a spaceship except in pictures, she knew she was in one.

  A disembodied voice spoke through a vent-like circle in the ceiling. “Liftoff is a few moments away. You’re in the escape pod. If you need to use the bathroom, do it quickly then strap yourself into the seat.”

  There was an explanation of how she was to do both in a compartment that had few recognizable features. She took advantage of the facilities, becoming aware of the salt and sweat dried to her skin.

  “Is there a way to wash?” she asked.

  Terse instructions from the unidentifiable voice followed.

  She made quick work of getting clean, unbinding her hair in a conscious act of hope, before strapping herself in as ordered and daring another question. “How long was I in the barrel?”

  This time there was no reply.

  Engines hummed to life, vibrating in near silence. Anticipation and fear and uncertainty throbbed in her chest in time to the energy pulsing through the pod.

  She’d thought they’d launch upward, but when movement came, it was forward motion. A fast hurtling that pressed her against the seat forcefully enough to drive the air from her lungs.

  The pressure increased as they tilted upward, now at a sharp angle. Pinning her with hard force and making movement impossible.

  They rose steadily. Her ears clogged and popped several times. Her heart pounded, as if beating at the walls of her chest in an effort to escape.

  And then whatever was covering the windows burned away and she saw Qumaar as few who lived there ever could. A blue world dotted with spots of brown and green, so beautiful from this vantage point that tears streaked down her face in reaction to it. So harsh she had no regret in leaving it.

  Long, long moments passed before the ship’s angle of ascent lessened. The disembodied voice returned. “We’ve cleared Qumaar’s orbit. But we still have to make it past the warships guarding the planet. If we encounter one, we’ll first attempt to evade capture. If it seems likely we won’t be able to, we’ll jettison the pod. It’s programmed to head directly to the nearest habitable land mass.

  “The computer will activate, giving you as much information as possible on the planet. We’ll be out of danger shortly, and on our way to Z’nyia. There is a compartment beneath your seat. It contains currency in the amount owed you.”

  The words calmed the fear that had returned at hearing the warning. It provided relief, a validation she’d been right to trust Gabo.

  Freedom. The thought of it was heady, suppressing even the worry of how she would pay for food and shelter once her money ran out.

  Then came the realization that Arabella might be on Z’nyia, bringing hope and excitement. A dream of being reunited that was shattered almost in the moment of its birth. Dashed in a sudden jarring, a sharp bank to the right followed by a stomach-lifting drop and a painful surge of speed.

  Even before the nameless voice spoke, Karena knew what would be said. “We’ve been spotted. We’ll attempt escape. In the event the pod is jettisoned and the computer doesn’t automatically provide information as to the nearest habitable landmass, touch the blue button on the console.”

  What followed was a ride more terrifying than getting on a wild-caught water horse’s back. Or staying astride one as it made a break for open sea and freedom.

  The spaceship dove and climbed, sometimes traveling on its side. It sped up and slowed down, making her gasp for breath.

  A couple of times Karena glimpsed their pursuers. But for large stretches there was nothing except endless space. Dark and cold. Lifeless and barren.

  Terror built as she wondered how long she could survive in the pod. How far it could travel before it became floati
ng debris. Or if it could be detonated at a distance if it looked as though the warships guarding Qumaar were going to take possession of it, and have a prisoner they could question about the smugglers.

  Another dizzying spin.

  Another drop and she saw a planet through the small window. Unlike Qumaar, it was a golden place. A desert world she realized, as they drew closer.

  The spaceship shook. It jerked sideways as if slapped by a giant unseen hand then jerked again, this time in the opposite direction.

  The movement was different than the evasive ones, seemingly involuntary.

  Karena had the sudden fear they were being fired on.

  A mountain range came into sight. And as if to confirm her suspicion, she saw a flash.

  She waited. Counting. Bracing herself for the buffeting that came long moments later.

  It was following by the unmistakable sound of clamps opening.

  The pod fell away. Free of the ship.

  She clutched the armrests of the seat, terror gripping her though it came without regret. Death was preferable to enduring Melor’s touch and bearing him a child.

  Mercifully there were no additional flashes. Nor did any of the pursuing ships appear in order to stop the pod’s descent toward the desert planet below.

  Remembering the blue button, Karena pressed it. A mechanical voice said, “Adjara. Population unknown. Status, independent. Closed to outsiders and considered hostile.”

  Except to women, Karena thought.

  Rumors abounded about Adjara. Nannies often told their female charges that failure to learn their manners and develop into marriageable young women would result in them being given over to the Adjaran men who were said to scour the universe for those they deemed worthy of using as brood mares.

  It was how disappearances of women from Qumaar were explained. How Arabella’s disappearance had been in order for her abusive husband to keep his pride.

  Some said the women taken to Adjara were killed after serving their purpose, that the men there preferred other men to women. Karena didn’t believe it. Didn’t want to.