I reached for the huge cock in front of me, wrapped my fingers around the head and used my leverage on his sensitive organ to pull him toward me. Slowly, so I could take my time. Look. Lick my lips. Make him wait. Torment him the way he’d tormented me.
He chuckled and lifted a hand to trace the soft line of my jaw, my lower lip. “You won’t get fucked, mate, until my cock is in that hot mouth.”
Behind me, the other man froze, holding me in place, suspended in the air, half impaled. Desperate.
With a smile, I pulled the cock closer and leaned forward, closing my mouth around the tip.
“Thank the gods.” The roar behind me made me smile in satisfaction as my mate thrust up, hard and fast, burying himself in my tight pussy as my other mate thrust his hips forward, pushing his length into my open mouth.
His taste exploded on my tongue, nothing I’d ever experienced before. But she had. This woman whose sexual fantasy I was somehow hijacking. He tasted divine. Like heat and musk and man, and I sucked him deep, playing with his balls as the man behind me fucked me, my breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.
The pleasure built in my mind. Mine. Theirs. It was strange and overwhelming and wonderful as we all shattered together, my pussy clamping down on one mate as my mouth sucked down on the other. Locking us together.
One.
Perfect.
Aftershocks rolled through me and the men’s voices grew softer, whispering words of love. Praise. Worship. I wanted to drown in it. Roll around in it. No one had ever talked to me like that. So much love. Devotion. Trust.
I never wanted it to end. But the voices faded. The room drifted in my mind like a dream melting away. I tried to hold onto it, but it faded. Left me bereft. Alone.
Cold.
Wherever I was, it was freaking cold. My body, my real body, shivered underneath a very lightweight fabric.
I startled awake, stared up at the plain white ceiling. I was breathing hard as if I’d run the hundred-meter dash, my skin damp with sweat. And my pussy? It ached from being filled with cock.
With imaginary cock.
I blinked, realized I was in the testing chair at the Interstellar Brides Processing Center. The testing. That hadn’t been a dream, exactly. But what was it? The warden said the Coalition had such advanced technology that they could look into my mind, see exactly what I needed in a mate. Not wanted. Needed.
Did I need two lovers? I’d never once considered it before. But, God, was it hot. Sexy. Sooo sexy.
My mother was probably rolling over in her grave. Again. I’d thought the same thing five years ago when I volunteered for the Coalition Fleet Intelligence Core.
Warden Egara moved around the table to stand before me, tablet in hand. She didn’t look surprised by my abrupt awakening from the testing, nor my current condition. Sweat covered. Pussy swollen and aching—not that she knew about that. But panting. Wishing I was still out in space, or wherever that was, and not in this stupid exam room feeling like a science experiment strapped to a dentist’s chair wearing a thin hospital gown.
“Was that supposed to happen? Did I fall asleep? Was that a dream?” I asked, licking my lips.
I was parched from screaming, but had I really done that? Or had I screamed in my dream with this severe, and very serious woman standing watch over me? I flushed hotly at the possibility.
“Yes. The technology assesses your deepest subconscious thoughts to discover your perfect match from available warrior candidates.”
My deepest thoughts were to get it on with two men? I’d never done it. Sure, I’d thought about a threesome. What woman hadn’t? Sandwiched between two hot guys? I’d be down with it, but so far in life, I’d barely been interested in keeping one boyfriend, let alone two. But if it would be like that dream? I was okay with it.
“During the testing, I read your file,” she said. Her tone was crisp, professional. She was from Earth, but worked for the Coalition, at least the Brides branch of it. Her uniform was a dark rust color, unadorned and familiar.
“Four years in the Coalition Fleet. Impressive.” She moved to prop her hip against the table in the middle of the small room. “I assume I’d be more impressed if most of your time in service wasn’t sealed.”
“I’m confused. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There it was. The standard answer popping out of my mouth on automatic pilot. I couldn’t talk about any of it. Not with her. Not with anyone.
But I had to get back out into space. I was suffocating here. Drowning in the minutia of a nine-to-five job. Drab apartment. Bills. Bullshit television shows. Surrounded by people I had nothing in common with. Earth? This just didn’t feel like home anymore. I wanted back in space and volunteering as a bride was how I was going to do it.
Chapter 3
Captain Dorian Kanakor, Prillon Warrior, Coalition ReCon Shuttle
* * *
I grabbed Captain Seth Mills by the wrist in my anger, but as I expected of a warrior, he pulled away and stepped close to confront me. He was nearly as tall as I, large for a human. And his strange blue eyes blazed with challenge.
And pain.
A pain I shared every day.
“What the fuck, Dorian?” Seth scowled at me, his voice carrying over the small number of warriors huddled around us. We were all sweat soaked and covered in grime from hours of battle on the freighter. But the room was almost silent as my crew and his ReCon team waited to see what was about to happen.
It wasn’t often the commander himself connected with us. Hell, it was even less often that one of us was assigned a bride.
“I need to speak with you, Mills. Alone.” I toned down the irritation in my voice, knowing that any challenge would surely be met with resistance, not the level-headed cooperation I needed for this insane idea to work. An idea that had just come into my head after hearing the commander’s news.
He studied me for mere seconds before turning to the co-pilot, a sassy Earth female named Trinity. “You get us back to the Karter.” He turned, meeting the eyes of his second-in-command, another large human warrior I’d come to respect. “Jack, you’ve got the con.”
I didn’t wait for their agreement and my crew needed no such instruction, the chain of command as natural as breathing. Leaving their curious gazes behind, I led the way to the very small supply storage unit at the back of the shuttle. This escape vessel wasn’t meant to hold many people. With all of ReCon 3 plus the survivors from my crew, the small ship neared capacity. But Seth followed me into the small space and I sat on a crate of emergency medical supplies. He sat opposite me as the door slid closed, sealing us in.
His calculating gaze leveled on me and he waited. Silent. Patient. I had no choice but to begin.
“My cousin, Orlinthe, was killed in battle a few months ago.”
“I remember,” Seth agreed. And he should. We’d all gotten drunk together more than once on the Karter over the last three years. When Orlinthe had been lost in battle to the Hive, ReCon 3 had been there, surrounding me and my fellow Prillon warriors, Earth whiskey in hand to drown the pain. Or at least burn it out of my throat.
“I was his second. I never tested for a mate of my own.”
Seth froze in the act of wiping grime from the sleeve of his armor. A lost cause since all he did was smear it around, but it kept his gaze off mine. “So? Go down to medical. Do it.”
“I don’t want to.”
He looked to me. Sighed. “Jesus, Dorian. You aliens don’t make any sense. Why are we having this conversation?” Seth’s head was tilted, impatience finally showing in the harsh line of his mouth and the tapping of his boot. He shifted on his seat, the butt of his ion rifle resting on the floor beside him, his grip on the barrel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“You have a mate, Seth. A matched mate. Do you know how special that is? How rare a gift?” I wanted to kick him now, wake him up. He was being a fool.
“Oh, no.” Seth’s eyes rolled back into his head and his c
hin rose at an odd angle before settling back into place, a strange smile on his face. Sometimes, human expressions were difficult to decipher, and I did not have the benefit of the psychic connection of a Prillon collar to help me understand. “Is this where you give me the lecture about how lucky I am? How I should get down on my knees and thank your gods for sending an innocent woman out into space to be my bride?”
“Yes.” So he did understand.
“No.”
“No?”
Seth stood and I did as well, the small space placing us nearly nose to nose as anger rose within me. How dare this warrior, this human, dishonor his matched mate? It simply wasn’t done. “Why do you dishonor your bride?”
Seth barked with laughter, but there was no humor in the sound. Only pain. “I’m not dishonoring her. I’m saving her.”
I frowned. “From what?”
“From me. From grief. From loving a man who could die tomorrow. I’m not ready to stop fighting. I can’t go home, back to Earth. I’m different now. Too different for the mundane shit Earth people deal with every day.” He sighed. “I can’t have a mate. I won’t do that to her.”
“So you are a coward.”
I thought, perhaps, the human would punch me for such a statement. But his shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes in defeat. Let his head drop so his chin touched his armored shirt. “I suppose I am. I won’t leave a widow. Children with no father to protect them. If I accepted a mate, I’d be selfish, Dorian. I’d want it all. I’d want to fuck her until she had my baby in her. And then another. Pure and simple.”
Yes, his desire was one most males shared, from all planets. I agreed with him, but I could see his problem. His Earth problem.
“If there was no danger to her, no chance that she would end up alone and unprotected, would you accept her?”
He looked at me as if I were crazy. “Of course, but that’s—”
“Agreed,” I said, cutting him off. “I will be your second. You are a warrior. You will claim your mate as a warrior should, with a second to ensure her pleasure, protection and happiness. She will be cherished by both of us, as a Prillon bride would be. The risks you speak of would no longer be a concern. Should you die, I vow to care for our mate and protect our offspring. And I assure you—” I smiled then. “—she would be filled with that baby twice as fast if she belonged to both of us.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
“You would need to make the same vow to me. That if something happened to me, you would be there for our mate and children.”
That stunned Seth speechless, but I waited. He knew the ways of the Prillon warriors. He’d been in space long enough to know our custom. We always shared a bride to protect her from exactly what Seth feared. A Prillon bride was never alone, never abandoned. If one mate died, the other assured the care and protection of their mate and children. I very much had looked forward to sharing a mate with my cousin, but that was not to be. I respected Seth as a warrior. He was one of the few humans I counted a friend. And he’d saved my life more than once. I trusted him to care for a mate. To protect her, as I would.
But Seth was human, not Prillon. Humans, I had been told, were territorial, more like Atlan beasts than Prillon warriors. Perhaps the idea of sharing a mate was too difficult for him. There could be jealousy. Rivalry. Anger. Instead of making the closest of bonds with a shared bride, it would rip us apart. So I waited for him to consider my offer. I, too, knew the power of patience. Of silence.
When he raised his eyes to me, I saw hope, but also speculation. “And what if she refuses this arrangement? She was matched to me. A human. One man. She might not accept a second mate. Hell, she might be an uptight, puritanical freak who prays for forgiveness every time she has an orgasm.”
I couldn’t imagine such a female, but I had to assume there were some of such mind on Earth. Strange.
“Is this how you would describe your ideal match?” I asked.
“Hell, no.”
I nodded, pacified. I doubted a warrior as strong as Seth would be attracted to such a female. And if that was not what he wished for in one, that would not be the match that had been made. “Accept her. I will be your second. And we will seduce her together. We will convince her that two mates are better than one.”
Seth held out his hand in the odd way humans did to seal an agreement. “She will have final say. And if she doesn’t want both of us, she goes home, or to someone else. I won’t leave a widow behind crying over my grave.”
I placed my hand in his. “Agreed. But unless you don’t know how to bring a woman pleasure, I am not concerned with that possibility.”
He scoffed at my obvious insult. “You talk a big game, Prillon. You don’t know what Earth women are like.”
“Enlighten me.”
Seth shrugged. “Clingy. Needy. Soft. They don’t like to get their hands dirty.”
“I do not require my female to be dirty. I want her to need me and to be soft.” My head buzzed with confusion. “Is this how you describe Trinity? Is she not an Earth female?”
Seth chuckled. “She’s not a woman, she’s a soldier, like my sister, Sarah. Soldiers are different. Hard. Tough. They’ll lead you around by the balls and run your life. I don’t want that either.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Hell if I know. If your subconscious bride matching system works like you aliens claim it does, I guess we’re about to find out.”
Indeed.
Chloe
* * *
“I don’t suppose you can tell me what you were doing for the Coalition for the last four years? If possible, I’d like to place some basic information in your file for your mate. It will help him understand you and relate to your past.”
“No, I don’t suppose I can,” I replied. I’d been back on Earth for a year. I’d served four years with the Intelligence Core. But in the last twelve months, I was rarely asked about my time with the Coalition. Not many on Earth believed in the Hive—especially since the news services didn’t share any of the horrors the space bad guys were inflicting. As of now, Earth was insulated from the Hive by the rest of the Coalition planets. Even though there were some who volunteered to serve, like I had, the percentage was small. Earth met the volunteer quota required to retain Coalition protection and no more.
Earth’s governments were still too busy fighting each other to dedicate serious resources to space.
And returning to Earth? No one who’d been out there was allowed to talk about what they did. Even if the debriefing wasn’t so severe, and we could talk, no one understood, or believed most of it. No one within the Emergency Services department in Houston believed me. I took 911 calls fifty hours a week and helped manage the worst-of-the-worst kinds of problems. Domestic abuse. School shootings. Hurricanes. Floods. Heart attacks. Car accidents. Humans would believe a story about ghosts or television psychics predicting the future of their love lives. But the Hive threat in space? Me, working undercover in outer space? Me, fighting aliens and infiltrating enemy lines? Yeah, my co-workers would have had a good laugh at my expense.
Not that I could tell them much. Just like some personnel within the US armed services, everything was kept confidential. SEALs couldn’t say where they went on a deployment. Spouses couldn’t be told a location. Missions were kept secret. Top secret.
Especially the new technology being developed to disrupt the Hive communications frequencies. And people like me, who had a knack for listening to their chatter and deciphering what they were saying. I couldn’t explain how I did what I did, but I listened and sometimes the strange sounds just—clicked with my NPU in a unique way. There were others like me, but not many.
And one of them in particular, Bruvan, was wrong a lot. Too much. But he always managed to blame someone else. Blame the Hive for changing their plans.
Blame me.
He’d nearly gotten my entire team killed on the last mission, nearly killed me, and I’d been sent h
ome, medical’d out, and he was out there still. Peddling his bullshit. Getting good warriors killed.
I had to bite my bottom lip to keep the anger in when the warden offered such a sympathetic ear. But I didn’t know her clearance level, and I wasn’t going to ask. “I really can’t say anything about it.”
The warden arched one dark brow and pursed her lips. “Well, it says you worked two deployments within the Intelligence Core, completing four years, before your return to Earth. You’ve been working as a 911 operator in your hometown. You’ve settled back into civilian life. Have a job. An apartment. Friends. And yet, you’ve decided to become a bride. Why?”
I frowned. “Does it matter? I’m here of my own free will.”
Glancing down at my wrists, they were restrained to the arms of the utilitarian chair by thick metal bands. “Although, being strapped to this chair doesn’t feel quite so voluntary.”
She looked at her tablet, swiped her finger and the restraints retracted into the chair. “They are for your safety during testing and to protect me from those who have been convicted of crimes. Until the testing is complete, they’ve consented to the match, and they arrive on their new home world, they are still prisoners.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my wrists, although they weren’t chafed. The move made goosebumps rise on my skin as I became chilled in the hospital-style gown I wore. Breeze on the bare backside? Wouldn’t want to miss that.
“You are far from a prisoner, Chloe. The opposite, most likely. I assume you have plenty of commendations on your record from the Coalition Fleet.”
“Fishing,” I said, forcing a smile from the woman.
“It’s like that, is it?” She sighed. “You can at least tell me why you’re volunteering.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been to space. I know the Coalition, the type of guys who are qualified to be tested for an Interstellar Bride. I also know myself. I’m from Earth, but four years in space has changed me. Earth isn’t the same anymore. I can’t speak of what I did. Even if I could, no one would believe me. I’m just…bored. I don’t belong here anymore.”
Fighting For Their Mate Page 3