Comet Coalition 4: Mystic

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Comet Coalition 4: Mystic Page 11

by Aubrey Ross


  “If you can come without touching your clit.”

  The next swing wrapped the belt around her thigh, the end grazing her folds. She shrieked helplessly as release tore through her body. She came hard and fast, the sensations shocking. Stars danced before her eyes and her knees buckled. She sobbed against Drake’s lap, too confused for rational thought.

  “Is something wrong with me?”

  Drake parted his legs and pulled her up for a lingering kiss. “You’re amazing.”

  “I must be seriously twisted,” she whispered. “I don’t understand why that worked.”

  He smiled and kissed the corners of her mouth. His tenderness was poignant and unexpected. “It worked because your body found a way to channel the stimulation into the desired result. Most people are never so fortunate.” He kissed her again and then nodded toward Jericho. “His skill is undeniable. I want you to show him your appreciation. Will you do that for me?”

  “I thought you wanted my mouth?”

  “Anticipation. Remember. I’m willing to wait.”

  Jericho returned to his seat and watched her approach. She stood before him and lowered her gaze. “Will you allow me to thank you?”

  “I think I’d like that very much.” He slid to the edge of the seat and placed his hands on the armrests, clearly expecting her to do the rest.

  She started to kneel, but Drake grabbed her hips. “Bend over. I need you like this.”

  Understanding spread through her, rekindling the heat detonated by Jericho’s belt. She unfastened the front of Jericho’s pants and paused to caress him through his underwear. He was long and marble hard.

  Drake smoothed something cool and slick over her skin. “This will ease the soreness without numbing you completely. I’m sure you’ll want to savor the heightened sensitivity.”

  Heat spread through the cool as his fingers pressed against her marks. She shivered and hid her face with the fall of her hair. If she concentrated on the convoluted sensations, she just might come again.

  She turned her attention to Jericho’s cock, peeling back his underwear as she guided the head to her mouth. Her lips encircled him and her tongue swirled across the tapered crown. He tugged his pants farther down, freeing his erection completely. She curved her fist around the base of his shaft, while she caressed the tip with her tongue.

  “No one comes until we’re joined, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Jericho’s voice sounded suspiciously tense.

  Cupping his heavy sac in one hand, she sucked him deeper into her mouth.

  “Oh fuck, that feels good!”

  Drake stroked her folds, taking full advantage of her exposed position. He gently pulled on her clit, and she cried out. The sound was muffled by Jericho’s cock, but Drake understood her meaning and moved on.

  He pushed his fingers into her pussy, matching the rhythm of her bobbing head. She felt something warm slip down between her ass cheeks. This was different than what he’d used to soothe her skin.

  His fingers slid free of her cunt, and she whimpered. “Sorry, darling, I need both hands.” He parted her cheeks and gently circled her anus.

  Something small slipped into her ass with just a hint of pressure. The warm gush of lubricant followed, and she shivered. Her ass cheeks tingled from the cooling salve, amplifying the heat. Drake pulled out the applicator and pushed into her with his finger. He breeched her easily and slid smoothly. Each long outstroke sent sensations curling deep into her body.

  She tried not to tense. Drake knew what he was doing. He would guide her into the unknown, if she allowed herself to trust him. A second finger created more pressure, and he moved a bit faster. She pulled Jericho out of her mouth and dragged her tongue down the underside to his balls.

  Drake worked a third finger in and patiently stretched her muscular ring. Miranda whimpered as the pressure swung precariously close to pain.

  “We’re almost there, love,” Drake soothed. “Just a little more.”

  Jericho reached beneath her and caressed her breasts. He teased her nipples lightly with his thumbs, while she carefully sucked on his balls.

  “She’s ready,” Drake said.

  And Miranda trembled.

  Chapter Ten

  Jericho eased her away from his crotch, so he could slip out from beneath her. She rested her forearms on his chair and closed her eyes. Drake continued the steady shuttle of his fingers. The pressure was familiar now. Her body had accepted the new stimulation.

  In one smooth motion, Drake withdrew, and Jericho pushed inside. The pressure increased. Her pussy clenched and her breath escaped in a shuddering sigh. He drove deeper, filling her to capacity and beyond.

  She tossed her head and arched her hips, pushing out against him. Urgent, overwhelmed, she wanted to buck him off, yet she couldn’t wait to feel him pounding into her.

  “She is so fucking tight,” Jericho groaned. His thighs pressed against hers and his entire length stretched her back passage.

  “Move or pull out. This is cruel.”

  Drake moved to her side and reached between her thighs. His fingers passed over her clit, and Miranda yelped. Jericho drew back even more slowly than he’d entered.

  “Feel the slide. Draw the pleasure inward.”

  Miranda moaned. “You’re killing me. I can’t take any more teasing.”

  Ignoring her objection, the men worked together to shatter her control. Drake paired each of Jericho’s slow, deep thrusts with an equally lazy rotation of his fingers. She clawed at the seat cushion and shook, her legs wobbling beneath her.

  Drake raised her arms and moved onto the chair in front of her. He drew her forward until her forehead rested on his shoulder. She clung to Drake as Jericho became more aggressive. Harder and faster, Jericho drove into her ass.

  Her fingers tangled in Drake’s shirt, and she buried her face against the side of his neck. He rubbed her back and caressed her breasts, his hands firm and reassuring.

  Jericho panted, his hips slapping against her tender skin. “Feed,” he forced the word out between tightly clenched teeth.

  Prompted by his strangled reminder, Miranda penetrated his mind. Lust blasted across the connection, propelling her to the very edge of orgasm. He was open and waiting, his energy concentrated and plentiful. She took what she needed without hesitation, absorbing his essence into herself.

  He gasped and thrust hard enough to rock her forward. Pleasure swung like a pendulum, passing from him into her and back, building intensity with each swing.

  Before she could catch her breath, Jericho separated their bodies and lifted her onto the chair. She straddled Drake’s lap, her knees tucked tightly against his hips. Jericho pulled her arms behind her back and angled her for Drake’s possession.

  Excitement took another turn, beginning a new cycle of arousal. How could the sensations regroup so fast?

  Drake caressed her breasts, his gaze boring into hers. Even with her on top, he controlled the action.

  “Are you ready for more or should I let you catch your breath?”

  “Breathing is overrated.”

  Her statement made him smile. He’d freed his cock while she was feeding from Jericho. The warm column of flesh pressed against her mound, and her folds were pillowed on his balls.

  “Lift her for me, Jericho.”

  He raised her until Drake had enough room to navigate. Drake positioned his cock at her vaginal opening then paused. “Lower her slowly. I want to savor the heat of her pussy as it surrounds me.”

  Happy to oblige, Jericho eased her onto Drake’s shaft. Miranda rested her head against Jericho’s shoulder and concentrated on the fullness and the slide. Drake arched his back when Jericho lifted her the second time. He kept his cock buried until his ass was off the seat then he relaxed his muscles and pulled nearly out.

  Jericho understood the new strategy. He kept her centered above Drake and Drake lunged up into her. The upward stab was somehow more aggressive. Miranda couldn’t move, cou
ld only enjoy Drake’s determined movements.

  “Come to me, love. Feed until you can’t take any more.”

  She smiled as his voice sounded within her mind. Their connection felt natural, effortless. She drew him into her mind as he thrust up into her body. Jericho’s energy had been more potent, but Drake’s was sweeter, more appealing to her.

  With a contented sigh, she ceased the transfer, but left the connection open. His emotions flowed freely, tenderness, protectiveness, and scorching desire. She responded with equal intensity, revealing herself without reservation.

  Tension spun out of control. Her inner muscles clenched and her blood boiled. She twisted against Jericho’s hold, needing to touch Drake.

  “Release her.” He clasped her to his chest an instant after Jericho’s arms let go. They moved together, unashamed of their hunger. Urgent, desperate for completion, they ground and thrust.

  Miranda came a split second before Drake. She bit back a scream and shook as waves of pleasure crashed down upon her. He arched off the seat, releasing his seed deep inside her.

  “I hate to be an asshole,” Jericho said after a long, silent pause, “but you’re in my chair.”

  Drake chuckled, which made his cock buck inside Miranda. She groaned softly, refusing to let go. Warm lethargy swirled around him, tempting him to ignore his brother and slump farther into the chair.

  “Hold on.” He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her against him as he moved to one of the other chairs. “How much time is left?”

  “Half an hour, give or take.”

  “You better go put yourself back together,” he told Miranda. She made a disapproving sound as she disentangled their bodies and gathered her discarded clothes. He righted his pants as she slipped into the lavatory. “I’m not sure if I should thank you or beat the hell out of you.” He glanced at Jericho in time to see the end of his triumphant smile. “In a few short hours, you dismantled my world and fucked the only woman who’s touched my heart in a very long time.”

  “Your world was an illusion and Miranda needed ‑‑”

  “You better leave that one alone.”

  “Consider it left.”

  “Why did you wait so long to defend yourself?”

  “You weren’t ready to listen until an extraordinary mystic shook up your preconceptions.”

  That was certainly true. Miranda’s abilities and selflessness challenged everything he’d been taught about mystics. She wasn’t manipulative and dishonest. She used her abilities to help people work through their emotional trials.

  Drake gave himself a mental shake and focused on the challenge awaiting them. “Did Blaze respond to your message or are we on our own?”

  “She hadn’t responded before we took off. That doesn’t mean she didn’t get the message.”

  Miranda returned a few minutes later looking flushed and content, and utterly stunning.

  “I’m the pilot/bodyguard, and you’re one of Jericho’s elite guests.”

  “I remember the part I’m supposed to play,” she assured him. “What did you do with my hat?”

  “It’s in the corner compartment along with your purse.”

  The hat had a mesh veil that distorted the details of her features. She tucked her hair up under the crown, creating a misleading bob. Holding the identification card Jericho had replicated for her, she settled in one of the passenger chairs for their descent into Wirtanen.

  “The primitive conditions work to our advantage,” Jericho said as they waited for landing clearance. “There are guards, but no automated surveillance systems. They’ll check our identcards. That’s about all.”

  True to his word, Jericho landed his cruiser in the designated bay and led them down the crude concourse. A security gate separated the concourse from the rest of the terminal, but a bored guard waved them past after glancing at their identcards.

  “Jericho James” ‑‑ a tense female voice drew their attention to the left as they passed beyond rows of connected seats ‑‑ “you better have a damned good reason for summoning me like one of your servants.”

  Jericho bent from the waist and swept his arm in front of him in an exaggerated bow. “Blaze, my dear, I’m thrilled that you deemed me worthy of your attention.”

  “Oh, cut the bullshit and tell me what this is about.”

  Blaze was even more attractive in person than she’d been on the video feed. Dark red auburn hair framed her oval face. Her eyes were so light a gray they appeared metallic. A sleeveless vest outlined her round breasts and trim waist, and those supple synthleather pants were downright cruel.

  Drake allowed his mind to acknowledge her pleasing shape; then he glanced at Miranda. She would look just as good in synthleather pants and their connection was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed.

  “One of your workers has been playing havoc with my customers. I don’t ordinarily become involved but this is a very special customer.” He made a bland gesture toward Miranda without using her name.

  “Notify the Enforcers. I don’t have time to resolve your problems, even if they are special.”

  “Unacceptable!” Jericho stepped toward her, his voice cracking like a whip. “My customer has been wronged by one of your workers, and we have no intention of leaving Wirtanen until the situation is resolved.”

  Drake and Miranda exchanged concerned glances. Wasn’t he laying it on a bit thick?

  “Listen, Jericho.” She emphasized his name with obvious disdain. “I won’t be bullied by ‑‑”

  “I’m not asking for your assistance, I’m insisting that you take responsibility for the actions of one of your workers.” His voice grew louder with each word.

  “Let’s take this somewhere else,” Blaze snapped. “You’re making a scene.” She stomped off through the gathering crowd of curious onlookers.

  Jericho fell in line a few paces behind her, leaving Drake and Miranda to follow him. His hostility was obviously a ploy, but did Blaze realize what he was up to? Drake reached for Miranda’s hand before he realized what he was doing. He placed his other hand at the small of her back instead, unable to entirely suppress his need to touch her.

  Blaze ducked into a small lounge, and the others filed in after her.

  “What part of ‘leave me out of this’ didn’t you understand?” She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze on Jericho’s face.

  “We’re not going near Rizaria’s lab,” Jericho said. “At least not right away.”

  “Then what are you doing here? No! Forget I asked. I really don’t want to know.”

  “We needed a reason to search one of the employee apartments,” Miranda explained.

  Blaze’s silvery gaze zoomed in on the other woman. “The Miranda Kayten-look-alike, I presume? What’s your interest in all this?”

  “I think one of my patients is here on Wirtanen, and he’s in desperate need of medical attention.”

  “One of your patients?” Blaze arched her brow and moved closer. “You’re not a look-alike at all, are you? Did you stage your own death?”

  “A necessary deception.”

  Blaze looked at Jericho then back at Miranda. “Which complex?”

  “Pasodertta.”

  “Let me guess. Unit forty-nine in building three.”

  “Why would that be your conclusion?” Miranda asked.

  “Because I’m not a fool.”

  “Has anyone been in the unit since Kaffee was reported missing?”

  Blaze shrugged. “Each complex has its own supervisor. The supervisor reported the unit empty, but there’s no telling whether or not he actually checked.”

  “It would be less conspicuous if you let us in rather than breaking down the door,” Jericho offered her an encouraging smile.

  Drake watched the conversation in amused silence. The other two had the situation under control.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Blaze grumbled. “We can take my skimmer.”

  It took twenty minutes t
o reach the housing complex. Drake had been to Wirtanen before, but the stark, unforgiving conditions never failed to move him. The buildings crowded the street, creating metal canyons and cluttered alleys. Plumes of steam and filth billowed up into the hazy sky. The council had dispatched essential relief and support to the workers, but short of abandoning the outpost, Drake couldn’t imagine anything that would make Wirtanen bearable.

  “That’s Pasodertta.” Blaze swung the skimmer around to the right and through a metal arch. The buildings were identical, the layout well organized. Patches of scraggly grass broke up the slabs of concrete. Large numbers designated one building from the next. She parked the skimmer in front of building three and hopped to the ground. “It should be quiet inside. Everyone is at their stations or asleep. You want the ninth unit on the fourth floor.”

  With a small pulse pistol tucked into the back of his pants, Drake took the lead as they headed for the building. Metal stairs ascended to the fourth floor and he headed down the narrow hallway. Stale air and insufficient light made the trek seem far longer than it should have been. Unit nine was the second door on the right.

  Blaze gave a perfunctory knock before deactivating the lock with her identcard. “Security. We’re coming in.” She eased the door inward then paused.

  Drake pulled his pistol and motioned her back with a stiff nod. She rolled her eyes but obeyed. Pushing the door wider a centimeter at a time, he searched the shadowed interior for any sign of a threat. The main room was clear, so he crept toward the bedroom.

  Blaze activated the lights as he reached the door. “Didn’t Miranda say you’re looking for a sick person?”

  “Taking things for granted isn’t just reckless, it’s dangerous,” Drake replied.

  “Despite our economic disadvantages, the crime rate on Wirtanen is lower than it is on Halley Prime. No one has anything worth stealing.”

  “I wasn’t worried about being robbed.” He checked the bedroom then motioned Miranda inside.

  He knew they were searching for Nicay. Still, his mind refused to accept that the cadaverous man huddled beneath a mound of covers was their target.

 

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