Flonn almost choked on his heart. Here sat my soul in all her glory, even more glorious. Pregnant. And if the child is mine. If. Whose child grew inside my soul? My soul. I could stare into her eyes all night and day and never tire of her.
Never wish to undo the claiming.
Never find a way to stop wanting her within reach.
Never stop worrying about her.
This must be love. What Father experienced with each of his souls. Because it can be nothing else. And it didn't matter whose child my soul nurtured. She was my huv'ria. Mine to love and protect.
Mine.
Theone had gone back to sleep.
I scanned the Prall brothers.
M'yote had closed his eyes and breathed shallow breaths.
Asleep.
Solvun leaned against the lavatory doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, eyeing me. “Can you believe the insanity? We all fucked her brains out. But the joke's on us. We're the ones shafted in the end.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You do one thing out of line, anything, !Dakos scum, and I'll see you never draw another breath."
That's the way it should be—Theo's mates protecting her. “I wouldn't have it any other way, King of Prall. And know I will grant you the same luxury if you dare to jeopardize my huv'ria in any manner."
Solvun squinted with a frown. “What's a huv'ria?"
Like a Prall would understand. “My soul. Theone."
Solvun's squint arched into curiosity. “Are you actually admitting you !Dakos warriors are soulless bastards?"
If that's what he chose to see. “I can't interpret your experiences for you."
Solvun snorted. “Like you interpret anything. You've got a machine for a fucking brain. Doesn't your father tell you what to think?"
That was how most cultures viewed the !Dakos.
"Would you both shut up so I can sleep?” Theo shoved off the bed, scowling. “I'm sick and miserable because of you. So, you're all going to have to learn to get along.” She focused on Solvun. “Everyone, Sol. Differences set aside. We're a team. A family. So shut the fuck up."
Solvun arched a blond brow, snorted, and turned on a heel to disappear into the lavatory.
My huv'ria's words resonated equally clearly around my chair.
My life had changed more than I ever imagined.
I have a soul.
Perhaps a child.
It's time to put differences aside and protect my seed, my family.
Family with Pralls. What a bizarre new concept. Beyond a father and twelve brothers, I had my own family now. Born of great joy. Merged with the enemy. I had a family. And just how would Father present this to the Council? Certainly, the Council would view this fusion of enemies as an opportunity to spy on the Prall's crown. And sending us back to Prall would be the best option for surveying the enemy as well as learning how to pilot The Savior.
But nothing, nobody, no !Dakos warrior would risk the life of my huv'ria or her child. That's what a warrior offered his soul. Protection.
Wedged between a snoring Sol and a warm M'yote, I crawled across the safest one to disturb in hopes of avoiding sex. M'yote. His firm blue body reacted regardless of my attempt to escape. But he didn't ram his stiff shaft inside me. No. He just cooed and helped me to the bed's edge.
Good thing. All his intoxicating skin rubbing every last inch of my body made me shiver. So much my nipples tattled as taut little peaks. “Thank you,” I whispered and tried to pretend he hadn't set off another round of my desire.
He smiled so serenely that every cell in my body hummed.
And I liked humming around him. So, I had my third mate. How did I get sucked into this craziness? I dropped my feet to the floor.
Clothes. Clothes. I scanned the room.
Clothes would keep their minds on formulating an escape plan.
Flonn smiled at me.
From the hard chair. “Did they make you sleep in that chair?” I smacked M'yote.
"I had nothing to do with it, D'ena. You had me pinned to the bed."
Liar. “He's part of the family. He sleeps on the bed."
"Oh no! He'll be able to strangle me or slit my throat more easily if he's on the bed with us,” Sol snarled.
Leave it to Sol to point out the obvious. I shot him a glare. “We have this saying on my home world, if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. You, my dear, Sol, my bright sun, set the kitchen on fire. So, shut up and deal with the consequences of your actions."
"The sun analogy only makes a more profound statement with your starkissed-ness, my love,” he growled.
"Don't growl at me if you know what's good for you. Besides, Flonn's nanites starkissed me. And that's what made me see the sweet side of you. So, be thankful."
He beat his golden mane on his pillow and glared overhead. “I am not sweet!"
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I strode to the watchful !Dakos warrior and petted one of his soft cheeks. “Good morning or whatever time of day it is, Flonn."
He turned his firm chin into my palm and planted a warm ribeye kiss there.
Mmm. Just what I needed for breakfast. “I'm starving."
A wicked smile danced on Flonn's face.
Although testing the various modes of his augmented penis sounded interesting, there was nothing left in my stomach. Literally. “For food, you big lug head."
"What's a lug head?” Sol asked from beyond my shoulder.
They probably didn't want to know. I stepped toward the gaping lavatory doorway and turned to define the concept. “In reference to a male who has nothing upstairs like an empty vessel between his ears, the ears being the pot's handles."
"Oh, don't take him for that,” Sol warned. “We'll be dead in five minutes if you let your guard down."
Well, I wouldn't. I shot him a glare. “I told you to stop. He won't kill you anyway. Your nanites make me sick if I don't get a nice injection every so often. And the way you can't keep your fears to yourself makes me think you're the volatile one in this three-ring circus."
Solvun smacked his lips. “What's a circus?"
"A sideshow."
They wagged their heads.
Empty! All of those bloody skulls. “A performance of odd things. Spectacles. Where everyone pays a ridiculous amount of money to enter and view things from nothing more than sheer curiosity. It's three-ring because there are three of you! So quit trying to tame lions before they march on stage, Sol."
Sol sighed. “What's a—"
"Lions are large yellow cats that eat people,” I interrupted. “But never mind. Now, I'm hungry. Where are my chains so I can go scrounge up some bread and water?"
"Huv'ria?” Flonn gently called.
He sat so quietly. Like a machine. But I knew better. He'd saved me when I faced the Drod in the arena. He cared for me gently when I was with him. He shrugged off the Council when I was ill. And he brought me down to co-habitat with my Prall mates for my sake. Because he chose to. He really was my castle. His nanites marked him perfectly for me. “Yes, Flonn?"
"What is this tattoo on your belly?” He pointed at the youngling mark.
"Oh,” I smiled at everyone, ending with M'yote.
He nodded as if to carry out with our plan.
I rubbed both palms over the gray scrolling vines, stopping with the temporary tattoo circled by my fingers. “This is my body's mark telling me I'm pregnant. It's called a youngling mark."
Flonn nodded. “How long do females of your world gestate?"
Oh, just another lovely thought I hadn't pondered. Pregnancy. Growing fat. Waddling. Squeezing a watermelon out of a hole fashioned to pass softballs. “Nine solar months. Ten lunar months. That's roughly thirty-one times nine give or take a few days."
M'yote and Sol eyed each other warily. Flonn just blinked.
Were they calculating the days until someone had to help birth this baby? Somebody better be plotting my escape fast. I wouldn't be up for running as soon as I was amply showing
. And trying to sneak an enormous pregnant woman away was much more difficult than wedging a skinny woman into a crack or crevice. They probably mulled over the same points. We could worry about it later. Or tomorrow. “I'm hungry."
And I didn't feel a twinge of morning sickness. With Flonn in the game plan, I'd have to work on being sick. Even if the plan entailed employing a little bulimia in the form of purging. Anything to save the baby, the mission, and my love of blue sky, warm golden sunshine, green vegetation, and a fresh breeze.
Freedom.
The chastity suit equaled a bad idea in its state of being thoroughly soiled.
I'd be puking just trying to stomach the smell. Not bad. But I enjoyed the comforts of the bed and covers. So, dear Flonn departed to find what Sol ordered. A little more than bread and water.
Sol pounced on me, thrusting his nose into my hair. “Hello, D'ena,” he cooed and kissed my neck with enough suction to draw one's heart through her jugular. “We need a plan, little tick."
Oh yes. He was strategizing. I shoved him over and tugged at his waistband.
He went right to presenting me with his engorged shaft.
M'yote scoffed and shoved off the bed.
Privacy wasn't possible with the surveillance cameras. So, I went right for his ear buried under his soft mass of hair. “I can pretend to be sick still. Long enough for us to convince Flonn the only way to help me is to escape."
He wedged the smooth head of his cock into my sex's nook and speared me through with a wicked thrust.
So damned mindboggling.
My back arched.
All I could do was gape at his intensely engrossed stare while sucking in a deep breath, perfectly impaled.
"You're mine, Theo. My D'ena. My Queen. I'll take care of you,” he thundered and began pumping his enormous cock along my still-shocked channel.
Friction. Marvelous friction. No need for augmentation.
Oh yes he could take care of me.
My body finally stretched to accommodate his size.
He tipped his hips when he hit home, nudging me into a flurry of tickle-induced gasps.
Um. Mine. Mine. Mine. But he worried about Flonn. I settled down to squirm on the sexy scratchy golden hairs of his chest, to kiss his prickly cheek until I found the firm edge of his ear. “He won't hurt me. That means us. He'll protect me. And that means emotionally. He won't hurt you. We need to use him to get back to my ship.” Gods. Just to sit up and grind his cock into a nub. But we were devising a plan. Regardless of how sticky things were literally coming between us. “Tell M'yote. We shouldn't speak of this again."
"You're right. I'll speak with M'yote telepathically.” He rolled me over and shoved my shoulders into the soft bedding, sliding between my knees. “You, my dear D'ena, are in need of some medical attention.” He shot me a wicked look and began marching sucking kisses down my throat, across the swell of my breast, to the pearl of my nipple.
Gods. He intended to kill me working the nub with his teeth.
He groaned, obviously enjoying the tightening his attention to my nipple caused along my inner channel.
I just let him have his way with me. To continue. To claim me, over and over. Because Sol was just so damned amazing the way he could make my belly turn into liquid heat. “Don't stop.” Never leave me alone. Never, Sol.
His massaging mouth wandered down to my ribs, so far he had to back out of me. “You alright, little tick?"
Did I need to smack him? “What are you doing? Get back in there and finish. Then start over."
He chuckled and fell back to my ribs, lathing lazily along the length of one, then back down to follow another one back the other direction.
Gods. My mind would melt away next, pouring out onto the bed between my legs. “Sol, I need you!"
All I heard was that evil chuckle.
Did he think he competed with a !Dakos warrior's augmented penis? I'd teach him not to jack around. “Sol! Get back up here and fuck me before I get Flonn in here to finish what you started with his augmented penis."
Sol froze.
Was that a challenge? I managed to lift my head, panting, to find my golden sun King studying me with a mask of disbelief. “You're lying. He told you that, right, little tick? Because there's not much to augment."
Oh, was my bright sun so wrong. “You hurry. And I'll tell you everything.” I winked and rocked my hips against his iron body. Gods. The weight of him is divine. “And don't you worry, baby. I'm not trading you for anything."
He growled with way too much delight and went back to licking my bloody ribs.
I couldn't do anything but wriggle, flinch, and sob.
My soul somersaulted inside my womb.
Begging. Pleading.
Down, he headed down to thrust his fiendish tongue into my navel. Sucking the breath out of me. Sending me into a fit of gasping. And then the depraved fiend slithered his wet tool of torture across by trembling belly, even farther down, between my nether folds. It was truly impossible the speed at which my heart raced as I wallowed on my back, bucking against his tormenting teeth as they nibbled at my clit. Trapped. So very trapped in the mattress.
So tenderly he toyed with me. Yet so demanding. Like I was being punished. Or he tried to prove himself. Not my Sol. He was a freaking king! Especially in bed. No augmentations or special powers necessary. He just knew what he was doing.
He clamped those sharp little teeth down tighter on my aching tender nub and sucked.
My body snapped off the bed.
Right into his persistent mouth. His solid head stopped me from flipping over his shoulders. But my body's momentum didn't stop him. He just kept right on making me feel so damnably hollow.
Empty. I'd explode. Into a million flying fragments if he didn't try to plug up the burgeoning steam inside me with his enormous erection. Gods. Talk about the Big Bang. I grabbed his head for support while my head lolled backward.
So damned heavy—my head. Hanging there. I just closed my eyes and waited for someone to decapitate me and put me out of my misery. “Be done with it already, Solvun!"
His bite opened and metamorphosed into a swirling tongue trying to tease me to death.
Not any better. “Please, Sol. Please."
His hands shoved me backward.
Onto the forgiving rumpled bedding. And he crawled up my body on his hands at my sides. One slow agonizing movement at a time, rocking the bed and every strung-out wired-to-Hell-and-back cell in my being.
"Sol,” I whined. “Please. Please, make love to me."
His chest sank glorious weight into mine, pushing me even further down into the bedding, and he slowly rubbed his stubbled chin across my cheek to my ear. “Don't forget you're my Queen, D'ena. Mine to love. Mine to torment.” He lunged his hips toward me, sinking his enormous shaft inside my clenching channel.
So blessed perfectly. I cracked my eyelids to find him staring down at me.
"Mine,” he said.
"Yes. Yes. Oh, yes, Sol.” And I matched his movements. Stroke by blessed stroke.
He stared at me while he plucked at my soul's strings he had overly tightened until I couldn't face the onslaught of amazing tension mushrooming inside me with my eyes open. I dug the back of my head into the bedding and screamed.
He grabbed a handful of his headboard and held his chest off mine, thrusting harder and faster. And roared.
The world stilled. Or he did.
His solid presence inside me burst with molten heat.
He grabbed the headboard with his other hand and quickly pumped his seed into my soul. Arching his lower back. Biceps bulging with creases making him look like someone had stitched balloons beneath his skin.
Watching the way his body moved like a finely-tuned muscle, fit, agile, sent me for another loop. I squealed and gasped, focusing on wringing every drop he had to offer inside me. To keep it there. To care for it.
How stupid was that? I'm already pregnant.
His thrust
s died into a nudge. He released one grip on the headboard, then the other. To carefully rest his weight atop me.
Magnificent weight that made me delirious before and after sex. So all-consuming. So everywhere. I loved being trapped beneath him. Or was I stuck on him? The man? Since we were mated for life, a growing attachment to the King was beneficial for me. Something more than my being his sex toy.
"If you're finished, Solvun, Flonn has food and clothing for Theo."
"Gods-be-damned, you both. Can't a warrior make love to his D'ena without being interrupted?” Sol cursed.
"I believe you have finished. Unless there is something I am unfamiliar with in your sexual habits,” M'yote droned.
"Gods damn you, M'yote. Telling me what I can and can't do. I'll beat the shit out of you, little brother. In a minute.” Solvun snarled, hefting off of me with a shove, and climbed off the bed, yanking his gaping pants up and shut.
Solvun had to be joking. Or there would be trouble. I rolled to the opposite side of the bed and threw my feet to the floor.
Flonn stood quietly two steps away, smiling at me, holding a covered tray and some leather slung over his arm. His sword handle jutted above one shoulder. He'd donned those forearm cuffs. Maybe they were for fighting? Deflecting blows from the big-ass swords like the one slung over his shoulder?
Someone grunted behind me.
Can't my husbands behave? I whirled.
M'yote was plastered against a wall, rubbing his chin, thanks to Solvun.
They'd fought. By the looks of M'yote, the King was to blame. “Dammit, Sol!” I stormed butt-naked around the bed's end.
Sol raked a handful of fingers through his hair where he leaned back against one of the bedposts.
We were going to be in close quarters for awhile. He needed to learn some respect. “You smug, bastard.” I went for his throat with a kick.
His arm shot out, and he grabbed my ankle. “Easy, little tick. This isn't between you and I. Flonn,” he flicked a gaze at my cyborg, “can you keep her out of the way until I finish with M'yote?"
"This has nothing to do with me. And Theone is right. M'yote has done nothing to deserve a beating."
"Well then,” Sol shoved me across the room at M'yote, “I've got better things to do than stand around here listening to this rebellion."
Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout Page 15