A Menage Made On Madison [The Federation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Her panic was something else that fed her desire. And for countless seconds, he didn’t even have to move. Her wriggles did the job for him.

  He only moved when her fingers clawed at the desk, and she began to rock her hips violently, enough to make her buck underneath him. His first thrust had her screaming again. He nudged deeper, harder, spreading her cunt lips so wide, her clit popped out of its hood. Then, he pulled out, making her pussy gasp in relief, only to cry as he slammed in harder. He fucked her, mercilessly, roughly, using her cunt the way she needed him to, using her body in a way that declared her as his.

  When she chanted, “More, more, more,” he growled again. His chest was a rock-hard presence at her back as he leaned down, and suddenly, his fingers were at her clit. Combined with the pounding, his nimble digits went to work on plucking the nub. Rubbing it, massaging it, teasing and mocking it, until her mind split. Darkness flooded, light disappeared, and pleasure tortured her nerve endings until she could sense nothing more than the slow thud of her heart.

  Chapter Two

  Knox groaned as he pulled his cocks from the tightly packed hole of his mate’s cunt. He watched as her parted tissues clenched together again, and grimaced at his own hard use of his woman.

  As he watched, his cum began to seep down, the double load he’d just shot inside her intent on getting out. It was the Shuzon in him that pressed a hand to her pussy and plugged his seed inside. Without his brother, Rafer, he couldn’t impregnate Parker as he’d like to, but that didn’t stop his instincts from clamoring at seeing his cum escape.

  The notion was atavistic, and foolish. But then, only Parker was capable of turning him into his baser self.

  With anyone else, he was the epitome of calm and collected. Raised in a family of rich merchants, he was suave. Debonair, even. With everyone apart from the woman that counted. Parker. She drove him mad, made him insane to have her. But then, she had to be special, for he’d severed ties with too many people just to keep her at his side.

  Those ties weren’t severed for good, only until his family came to see just what Parker was to him. And to Rafer, if he’d stop being such a lukcin fool.

  His eyes watched as cum seeped from between his fingers, and, as was the Shuzon way, he rubbed it into the tender folds of Parker’s pussy, scenting her with him, marking her as his. Any Shuzon would scent his essence on her from eighty feet away. And considering his people were fond of staying at his resort, which had rooms tailor-made for their intrinsic needs, it was imperative they realized just who and what Parker was to him.

  News traveled. Even over a galaxy. Especially when his family was as important as it was. It was imperative they knew Parker was as important to him now as she had been sixty annals ago.

  His scent had grown weak on her body, mostly because he hadn’t dared touch her for the last mens. He’d feared for her, knowing she’d lie as still as the dead until her body worked through his pheromones and failed to discern Rafer’s. She only woke up then because her physiological make up demanded she seek Rafer and find the other half of the pheromones she was missing.

  When he’d first met Parker, he hadn’t realized how quickly she’d adapt to his Shuzon make up. Nobody had ever imagined how quickly the recessive genes in humans’ genetic build would react to the dominant traits of other species.

  When Rafer finally got his act together, the recessive genes of the human body would adapt even further, meaning Parker would be able to carry their child. Until then, until Rafer realized just what he was pushing away, she had to suffer. He could kill his twinling for that.

  He bent down, pushed his nose into Parker’s cunt, and scented himself and her. The beast only she could bring to life purred with pleasure at the dual scents of him and her. He stood, the perfume in his nose, and carefully gathered her from the desk, grimacing at his earlier roughness when stationary scattered as he moved her.

  As was usually the case after they fucked now, she was terrifyingly limp. It was as though all her muscles had disappeared, and it never failed to scare him. He always wondered if this was the last time she’d wake up—that particular notion was enough to kill his sex drive in its tracks.

  About to lift her into his arm, his comm unit buzzed. “What?” he snapped at his assistant, pissed that he couldn’t ignore the call. Andris only contacted him via holo-call if it was urgent. Otherwise, he sent commqués.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but the Royters’s spokesman has been in touch.”

  That had his ears pricking to attention. “What did he want to know?”

  “He wanted to confirm some of the details in our proposal.”

  Knox frowned. “Why?”

  “Apparently, the government found our projected increase for tourism to be exaggerated. They wanted to confirm that a unified dome would indeed cause such a growth spurt in that sector.”

  “Did you share the surveys with him?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was impressed. But he still wanted the surveyor’s information so he could confirm the data.”

  Knox pondered that for a moment. The three domes covering the territories open to visitors on Madison were rapidly overfilling. The only way he could keep on expanding the hotel’s amenities was to expand the domes. The optimal way, he’d discovered, was to build one large shelter.

  Madison’s government had recently changed, and he’d had a hard time getting the new party on his side. He wasn’t sure if he should be offended at the cabinet’s disbelief of his figures and apparent distrust of his word, or relieved that they were interested at all. “What’s your take, Andris? Which way do you think they’re swinging?”

  Andris sighed. “I have no idea, Sir. I wish I did. He did sound interested, but at the same time, he’s only the messenger. It’s his superiors’ opinions that count.”

  “True. Follow up with the surveyor. Have him report the questions he was asked.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Thanks, Andris. I’ll be out of the office for the next couple of heurs. Hold any holo-calls.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  Knox disconnected the call, then reached for his mate again. Carefully lifting her, he held Parker over his shoulder, which was the only way he wouldn’t drop her, and headed to the elevator. It opened, and he pressed the button to their suite.

  Upon arriving at their quarters, he crossed the salon, and moved toward the bedroom. Parker had let him decorate the entire suite in the Shuzon style—natural materials, wood, Elyssian hemp for their seats, and murals of the Shuzon desert, as was the way of most of his people. For letting him rule the roost in the majority of their quarters, she’d asked for the bedroom and the bathroom to be to her taste.

  In fairness, she had a good eye. And in many ways, their preferences merged as superbly as they did themselves. She preferred nature’s bounty over mass-produced metal and plasticized furniture. She’d gone for opulence in the bathroom, choosing the Federation-style particle shower, but for special treats, she also had something she called a freestanding tub, which she’d designed herself and had it custom-made for her. It had strange paws for its base, and was a terrible waste of water, but she wasn’t frivolous and they could afford it.

  He did enjoy those times when he caught her, pink from the hot water, sleepily relaxed from its stuporous effects. He’d often climbed in with her, and things usually devolved into most of the water splashing out to drench the floor, something that had made him appreciate the Earthling method of bathing.

  He shrugged off the thought of those times, because even though he was sated, thoughts of past matings with Parker could bring him to a full erection within moments, and now was most certainly not the time.

  He laid her gently on the bed, on top of the DeMarzian cotton-blend duvet, and grabbed a throw to cover her. Even unconscious, half-naked, and sated, she took his breath away. How Rafer had torn himself from her Knox would never know. Either his twinling w
as an idiot, something Knox knew to be a fact some of the time, or he just couldn’t stand the idea of being mated to a human.

  Humans were considered the lowest of the low in the Federation culture. When the Union had overtaken Earth, their technology had been so minimal in comparison to most of the allies, that to some of the more advanced of the nations, humans were like animals.

  Not that anyone could ever utter such a statement in his presence. Not without him decking them, at any rate.

  That Rafer, his twinling, might share such a sentiment about Parker both filled him with rage and despair. Parker could not keep on like this. Shuzon DNA was split between twins. Her body was receiving his but without Rafer’s, she was constantly in a state of withdrawal. His seed sought Rafer, and once both twinlings’s DNA merged, a child could be borne. Every time they made love, Parker’s body prepared for a child. When that couldn’t happen without Rafer, her system went into meltdown.

  Rafer had to come here and help him. Help their mate.

  Knox could not be so wrong about Parker. She was his, just as she was Rafer’s. Why his twinling persisted in denying them all, Knox didn’t know. Couldn’t understand, and he raged at his brother’s poor choices. Choices that affected more than just the man himself.

  It was time to call in the big guns.

  His mothers might have a clue as to where Rafer was, because it had been a while since his brother had contacted him from his base. Even though he hadn’t spoken to his meddling mothers outside of Holo-Mail communiqués for close to four mens, it was time to deal with them now.

  Parker’s health was at stake, and nothing, not even his pride, meant more to him than her.

  Chapter Three

  Two days later (Two Federation deyas)

  Head bowed over the intake ledger, Parker didn’t bother to look up when a small bubble of sound exploded in the entranceway. She was still exhausted after Knox and hers’ impromptu fuck on his desk. Being unconscious for thirty hours, or heurs in Federation speak, should have given her a burst of energy, right? She’d been essentially asleep for a deya and a half, so why she was more tired than she could ever remember being, Parker didn’t know.

  What she did know was that for the first time in four semanals, her body was at some sort of peace. After the delicious imploding orgasm that Knox had gifted her, her most female parts had ceased their clamoring. She could actually think about her mate without wanting to fuck him raw.

  Okay, so that wasn’t exactly the truth. If he’d been on the front desk, naked as the deya he was born, cocks standing to attention, she’d have jumped on him faster than the speed of light.

  She was trying not to be greedy, though.

  And where Knox was concerned, and his cocks, she was a glutton. With a capital G.

  She tried not to yawn because it looked totally unprofessional, but it was hard. Instead, she managed to swallow it, and continued to look down at the guest ledger she had in one hand and the housekeeping list in the other. Either she was too tired to be doing this, which was probably a given, or she was sure the two lists didn’t match.

  Blinking back tiredness, she sent both ledger lists to Knox’s comm, and asked him if the two matched or if it was just her eyes. Either way, it would do no harm to check. In a business as large as this one, it would be easy for some of the staff to think about making a little extra money by simply omitting a name from the records. At least once a mens, they or one of their managers discovered a way in which one of the staff had tried to screw the company.

  Last mens, it had involved two waiters and one of the dining managers, who for every three bills they’d logged into the system, had managed to figure out a way of holding one back.

  The irritating thing was, Madison Hotel’s staff were some of the highest paid workers in the Federation. Knox and she rewarded good work and diligence, yet some still tried to screw them. That was life, she guessed. It didn’t stop her from being pissed off, though.

  The next yawn was impossible to suppress, and she knew she’d have to go and sleep off her funk before she started snoring at the desk. As more of a racket clamored from the hall, she finally looked up and scanned the reception room, with its half-rainforest, half-desert look, for the source of the noise.

  One part of the room consisted of trees, some of which were twenty feet high, and, just like the gardens, came from all over the known galaxies. Which meant green, red, blue, and white trees merged together in a cacophony of color, and birds sang as they rested on their perches.

  The scent of greenery was always pleasant in here, and the soft tinkle of water, as a small stream cut through the reception, was very calming. That small stream had cost a goddamn fortune. And they weren’t even using water as she knew it. It was a liquid created in a laboratory, which the marketing team had labeled OH2O, because Earthling water was at such a premium. It was a decent replication, but unlike Earth’s clear H2O, this held a faint gray tinge.

  A bridge enabled guests to cross from the doors to the front desk, and it sat at a point where the stream began to pool. Surrounding the water was the black sand of Sliuguzerd, which gave off a scent that reminded her of her grandmother’s lavender perfume.

  The oasis and rainforest should have been completely over the top, but, in the cavernous reception, the areas appeared small, decorative. They were a luxurious touch that always had guests gawking when they first arrived.

  The commotion was coming from the bridge, where a man was being carried over by a hover-chair, and was apparently taking too much time in doing so. He was slouched in the seat, half his face covered in the silver bandages that meant he was recovering from a skin graft, and his legs were splintered and resting limply in front of him.

  He wasn’t a pretty sight, not with all his injuries, and for a second, she pitied the man his suffering. The Federation’s medical advances were impossible for the human mind to even conceive. Death was rare for most, and she herself had been saved from the grave by a heart transplant, and a liver and lung purge. People could live for thousands of annals, so long as they had the money to pay for the required surgery.

  Broken legs could be healed in an heura, burnt flesh grafted and replaced with soft as a baby’s butt skin within a semanal.

  That this man was still undergoing healing told her how bad his injuries were.

  And it was only as she studied the man more, happened to glance at his super short hair with its barely there ruby-red streaks, that she felt faint.

  She staggered back, almost colliding with Frisya, one of the receptionists, who supported her and asked, “Parker, are you okay?”

  Parker blinked at her, staring blindly for a second, before whispering, “Contact Monseign Baxx, Frisya, please. Get him to come to reception right away.”

  As Frisya nodded, looking at her with concern, she paged Knox, and Parker had to climb ‘round the reception desk using her hands to keep her upright.

  Now she knew Rafer was here, her body clamored for his. It mourned her mate’s injuries, cried and wept that he was in pain. It took her so long to reach him that he was more than three-quarters of the way to the desk. She dropped to her knees the instant she met him, and his hover chair came to a halt as he peered down at her.

  “Rafer,” she whispered. “What the hell have you done to yourself?”

  Only half of his mouth was visible, but his lips twitched in a semblance of a weak smile. His hand trembled as he reached for her, his fingers sweeping over her jaw. “Parker,” he slurred, his voice completely unlike his usual strident tone. “As beautiful as the last notte I saw you.”

  That had been two annals ago, at Fahnil. The Shuzon’s version of Christmas.

  Tears gathered in her eyes as she took him in, both relieved that he was here, and hating that he’d finally come to her, only in such a state as this. What the hell had he done to get so banged up?

  “Don’t cry,” he slurred. “On the mend.”

  She blinked as his eyelids started to droop,
and from the gentle pace of his breathing, she knew he’d fallen asleep.

  Parker climbed to her feet, her knees trembling, as she nudged Rafer’s hover chair over toward their private elevator.

  “Tell Mr. Baxx I’m in our suite if he comes to reception, Frisya,” she called out, and received a concerned nod in reply. “Also, see if there’s a cab waiting outside to be paid. Pay with reception’s tab and grab any luggage.”

  The hover chair’s engine purred silently alongside her as they waited for the elevator doors to open, and she nudged it inside with a gentle press of a finger. When the doors closed behind her, encasing the two of them in the silence of the lift, she wasted a few seconds just looking at him. Taking him in, battered and bruised bits and all. Despite everything, despite how sore he looked, it was heaven to actually breathe in the same air as him.

  Sixty-three annals ago, when Earth had been overtaken by the Federation, and she’d been left to sink or swim with her fellow evacuees, she’d never have imagined falling in love. Just existing, surviving had been tough enough. Without selling herself, it had been ten times harder to get by—not that she’d had a choice when the slavers had caught her. But the indulgence of being in love was more priceless than all the luxuries she had in her possession. And the best part was being in Shuzon love, not just love as she knew it.

  On Earth, she’d seen how relationships fell apart. She’d seen the highs and lows of many of her friends’ marriages. Divorce had been on the up, marriage on the down.

  The Shuzon way put your own body against you. Like humans, they fell in love with their heart, but their bodies made the confirmation. Every time they kissed, or held hands, or made love, it cemented the bond. Cheating on them was an impossibility, because it would be like cheating on yourself.