by Cynthia Sax
“I know tradition and following Balazoid ways is important to you and I’ve tried to look the other way.” Mirian waved her hands in his direction, her agitation escalating. “But this is ridiculous, Furu. This is Viridi, not Balazoid. You have to change.”
Change. I’ll never again change for my father. Furu bowed his head, staring at the swirling eddies of water around his legs. But this would be for Mirian. We can’t lose her. Xan and I won’t survive. “I can change.”
“You’ll change?” Mirian’s mouth dropped open.
“Yes.” Furu raised his head and met her gaze, hiding his gut-wrenching fear under a cold, emotionless mask, desperately hoping his offer was enough to keep her. “For you or for Xan, I’ll change.”
“That’s wonderful.” She smiled widely and Furu’s worries vanished, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Wait here.” Mirian dashed away from the shore.
Whatever she asks of me, I’ll do. Furu breathed deeply, in and out, in and out, standing in the stream wet and uncomfortable and hopeful. I left Balazoid for Xan. Anything Mirian requests will be minor in comparison.
Mirian returned, her brown curls sticking to her flushed face. “Here.” She tossed a scrap of pink leather at him. “Wear this.”
He spread the leather out. “A cock sling?”
Her face turned a vivid shade of red. “Viridi is hot and humid. Your pants aren’t practical. I thought this would be more comfortable. I had the leather already tanned and…”
“You made this.” Furu touched tiny stitches too uneven to have been done by machine. “By hand.” He swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat, able to count the number of presents he’d been given by others on his fingers. “For me.”
“When Xan finishes repairing the replicator, I’ll craft something nicer.”
“No, you won’t.” He waded toward her, measuring the water levels forgotten, all of his attention on his little breeder, her wonderful gift clutched in his hands.
“Oh.” Her plump bottom lip curled into an adorable pout. “You don’t have to change into the cock sling if you don’t want to. I can’t make you.”
“But you can.” Furu staggered onto the shore, his pants weighed down with moisture. “You can make me do anything. I’d change everything I am for you.”
“Why would I want you to change anything?” Grooves appeared between her eyebrows. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
She thinks I’m perfect, beautiful. Furu stripped, his pants sticking painfully to his skin. Our unnatural female. “Help me with this, Mirian.” He held out the cock sling.
She kneeled before him, her eyes shining. “I’d rather help you with this.” Mirian ran one of her slender fingers from the tip of his hard cock to his base, spreading his pre-cum over his pale skin. Furu pressed his lips together, his gratitude flowing into desire, her touch exquisite.
Mirian wrapped her fingers around his shaft. “Because I didn’t design the cock sling, as you call it, to be worn while you’re in this state.” She pumped him slowly, sensuously, as though she had all of the time in the world to love him.
To love me. Furu gazed down at her, enthralled by her stroking, his fingers twisting her gift. “You should have.” He rocked into her hands, his skin drying, warming. “I’m always in this state around you.”
“Around me or Xan.” She grinned. “I made him a cock sling also.” Mirian nibbled on her bottom lip as she slid her hands up and down his shaft. “Do you think he’ll change out of his leather?”
“For you, yes,” Furu answered without hesitation, their warrior lover as smitten with their breeder as he was.
“Good.” Mirian exhaled with a whoosh of breath, as though she questioned their commitment to her. Furu placed his free hand on top of her brown frizzy curls, gripping the cock sling with his other hand, unable to release the present.
“I want you both to be comfortable.” She brushed her knuckles across his balls.
“Comfortable,” Furu repeated, his brain disconnecting from his mouth, the blood in his body rushing to his cock.
She worked him harder, faster, sweeping his tip with her thumbs, grazing his shaft with her fingernails. He groaned, pushing into her strokes, his balls aching, ready to explode, Mirian bringing him quickly to the point of no return and then dangling him over the edge, torturing him.
“Please, Mirian,” he begged, having no pride left, her kindness, her caring, her passion stripping that from him, laying his emotions as bare as his body, no cold mask to hide behind.
“Release for me, Furu.” She looked up at him, their gazes met, and she pushed her pursed lips over his cock head.
“Mirian!” he bellowed, thrusting forward, his seed shooting into her hot mouth in raw, ragged spurts. She swallowed, her lips tugging on his cock, coaxing every last drop from him, and he shuddered, his shoulders shaking.
“Mirian,” Furu murmured, dropping to his knees in front of her, humbled by her generosity. “I’d do anything for you.” He brushed her hair back and pressed his lips to her forehead, tasting the salt of her skin.
“I know you would.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her, his chest flattening her breasts. “But don’t wear the cock sling if you don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it,” Furu replied and she sucked her breath in. “I love it.” He sprinkled kisses over her beautiful face, an action no Balazoid would ever indulge in.
Because no Balazoid ever had a breeder like ours. Furu smiled.
* * * * *
Twilight had stretched its shadowy fingers across their camp when Xan finally returned from his explorations, stomping into the clearing, his face dark and his lips pressed together.
He’s in a murderous mood. Mirian waited for him to speak, unwilling to aggravate him further, Xan always taking responsibility for more than he should.
“Where’s dinner?” Furu asked, having no such discretion. The handsome Balazoid wore the cock sling she’d sewn for him, the pink straps disappearing between his pale ass cheeks.
“I caught six amani today.” Xan slammed a log into the fire ring, ashes flying upward, coating the rocks. “Six and he,” he waved his big hand at Steve, “ate all of them, leaving nothing for us.” Steve flicked his leaves defiantly and Xan’s face hardened even more. “If he hadn’t saved your life, Furu, I’d start this fire with his vines.” He sat down with a thump on a boulder.
“Hmmm…” The Balazoid adjusted his cock sling, his bulge impressively large. Xan’s gaze dropped, lingering on the pink leather, and his forehead wrinkled.
“Steve shouldn’t have eaten all of the amani.” Mirian glared at the plant, blaming him for ruining an otherwise wonderful day. “He knew you had caught them for us.” Steve shrugged his vines, showing no signs of remorse.
Xan continued to stare at Furu. “What in the stars are you wearing, Balazoid?” he thundered.
He hates it. Tears pricked Mirian’s eyes. All of her spare time over the past ten days had been spent crafting the simple garments.
“A cock sling,” Xan declared, the pride in his voice reassuring her. At least he likes it. “Mirian made it for me. See.” He pulled on the waistband.
Xan leaned over and studied the leather. “The seams are crooked.” Mirian’s face heated, her talent at sewing admittedly rudimentary, the primitive skill self-taught.
“She made it for me by hand.” Furu beamed, twisting his body to examine the cock sling from all angles. “Because she was thinking of me and wanted me to be comfortable.”
Hot emotion flashed in Xan’s red eyes. “She made it for you because you’re a scientist,” he sneered, verbally striking out at Furu. “Warriors don’t care about comfort.”
Xan swung his legs over the rock, turning his body until his back faced them, his broad shoulders shaking, anger radiating from him.
“Especially Dreck warriors,” he rumbled, Mirian straining to hear his words. “We have to be twice as tough to survive.” He extracted two daggers
from his thigh sheaths, the light of the torch trees reflecting off the blades.
Furu nudged Mirian’s shoulder. She looked up at him. He twitched his head in Xan’s direction and snapped the leg straps of the cock sling.
No. She mouthed, unable to deal with the rejection.
Yes. Furu silently replied, jostling her again.
Mirian inhaled a ragged breath, removed Xan’s present from her pack, and stood. “You might not care about your comfort but I do.” She strode to Xan’s side and perched on the rock beside his. Her bare left knee brushed his leather-covered thigh and he moved his leg away, his rebuff cutting, slicing her heart into strips as deftly as if he’d wielded the blades he grasped.
Why do I care? She stared into the unlit fire ring, seeing the truth there, truth she’d been denying for days. Because I care. About him. About Furu. I love these two stubborn males and I want them to be happy.
“Here.” Mirian balled up the cock sling and placed it on the rock. “You don’t have to wear it. It isn’t well made. Your cock sling is twice as big as Furu’s and the seams are twice as crooked.” She turned her head away, unable to see his disgust.
Leather wisped against rock. The silence stretched, Xan’s body heat engulfing her, his musk filling her nostrils, the warrior physically close yet emotionally across the galaxy.
“What is this?” He poked a long slim pocket no much wider than his fingers, his voice gruff.
Mirian’s face heated to the surface temperature of the sun. “My failed attempt to make a sheath so you could carry a dagger.”
“A sheath.” A strangled noise originated deep within his throat.
“Yes, a sheath.” She folded her arms protectively underneath her breasts. “I know the cock sling was a dumb idea. Your pants have places for all of your weapons. You don’t have to—”
Xan swept her off her rock and onto his lap, pushing her face into his chest, his heart pounding against her ear, his arms strapped around her so tightly, she couldn’t breathe. She clawed at his skin. He eased his grip, burying his chin in the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, his breath hot and fast.
His shoulders shook. Moisture dripped down her chest. He can’t be crying. Beasts don’t cry. She wrapped her arms around his thick torso and petted his back, seeking to comfort him.
Xan’s shaking stopped and the moisture on Mirian’s chest dried. They remained entwined, Xan’s muscular form unrelentingly strong and scarily still, his breathing leveling, his heartbeat slowing.
“You don’t have to wear the cock sling,” she assured him. “I understand.”
“I won’t,” he stated bluntly and Mirian recoiled from his verbal slap, pulling back from him. “I won’t ever wear it.” Xan captured her face between his big hands, the cock sling balled in his right palm, and he held her gaze, his eyes blazing red, salt tracks streaking his cheeks. “Because it’s too precious to be soiled.”
Mirian’s breath caught. He likes it. “I could wash it.”
Xan brushed his lips over the tip of her nose and she blinked. “I can’t risk it. It means too much to me.” He drew her back into his big body, holding her as though he never wished to let her go. “You mean too much to me.”
Mirian glowed, basking in her gruff Dreck warrior’s passionate declaration. “Will you act this way every time you receive a gift?” she teased.
There was a pause as if Xan was considering his answer. “I don’t know.” He shrugged.
He doesn’t know. Why wouldn’t he know? Mirian’s heart squeezed. “Hasn’t anyone ever given you a gift before?”
“Furu cooks for me,” her big male murmured. “I consider that a gift.”
“Oh Xan.” She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him, silently vowing to bombard him with tokens of her newly realized love.
Chapter Seven
“Isn’t there another test you can do?” Xan scowled down at Furu, struggling to think of a reason, any reason to remain on Viridi. “Or you could redo the tests. If the planet was unstable—”
“Redoing the tests would look too suspicious.” Furu crouched close to the ground, wearing the pink leather cock sling Mirian had lovingly made for him and nothing else, his pale skin gleaming, his body slender and graceful. “We’ve been here three months. Captain Grok knows how long each mission should take, and we’ve surpassed that interval.”
“Grok hates all Drecks.” Xan twisted his lips, the feeling mutual. “He’d use my incompetence as an excuse to dispose of me.” He patted the cock sling hidden in his jacket, a gift given to him, a Dreck, by his breeder. “Or worse.” He glanced at Mirian. Their small human breeder tossed cubes of raw meat to Steve, joking and laughing with the plant she loved, too far away to hear their conversation. “The bastard could examine the planet himself.”
Furu followed his line of sight and his beautiful face darkened. “If he finds her, he’ll take her away from us.”
“He’d have to kill me first,” Xan growled, every cell in his body screaming to protect Mirian, protect their breeder. “You have the lock?”
“It’s concealed in here.” Furu straightened, a planet core tester in his hands. “We should tell her, Xan. It’s a good plan. She might agree to it.”
Unlikely. Xan grimaced, their unnatural female fiercely opinionated. “We don’t have time to argue with her. We have to be in orbit before the warship arrives.” He tapped the handle of his favorite gun. “We’ll act now and explain later. Mirian will understand.” I hope.
“Did I hear my name?” Mirian wiped her hands on a broad leaf, her curves barely concealed by her garment, a temptation no Balazoid could resist.
“We’re accompanying you while you perform your readings.” Xan fiddled with his guns, not meeting her gaze.
“Are you?” She tossed the leaf away and leisurely surveyed his form, her attention hardening his cock. “You’re heavily armed for a reading.” Mirian narrowed her big brown eyes. “You have three guns and only two hands.”
“I’m leaving a gun at the station.” He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. “Do you remember how to use it?”
“I’m not the one you should be asking,” she grumbled and Furu’s face turned red, the Balazoid’s skill with a gun beyond all hope.
“Answer the question, female,” Xan barked, his good humor having vanished the moment they’d detected the approaching warship.
“I know how to use the gun.” Mirian wrinkled her nose. “Is this new paranoia due to that ship entering our sector?” She flipped back her long hair, the brown tendrils curling around her ass.
How does she know about the ship? Xan met Furu’s gaze. His lover shrugged.
“Yes.” Xan held out his hand.
Mirian threaded her fingers between his, and Furu clasped her free hand. They walked along the path, their small breeder tucked between their larger forms. “I suppose you’ll be setting more traps.”
“How did you know that?” Xan stared at their female. Furu chuckled.
Mirian smiled up at him, her lips luscious and alluring. “I know you, Xan.” A flying insect landed on her shoulder, its red and green wings fluttering. “I love you.”
She loves me. Xan sucked in his breath, his muscles flexing, his body instinctively reacting as though he’d been attacked, his brain short-circuiting. “Uh. I…”
Mirian’s face flushed redder than Furu’s eyes. “You don’t have to say it back.” She squeezed his hand. “I know we’ve only known each other for three months but I told Furu last night I loved him and since I love you too, I thought it only right I say something,” she babbled, her voice flowing over him, light and feminine and uniquely hers.
She loves me. Xan blinked. This unnatural, unique female loves me, a Dreck. A warmth spread over his chest, her love and acceptance settling over him.
“I shouldn’t have said anything now. You’re worried about that ship approaching and thinking of ways to protect us because that’s what you do, protect us.
” She spoke faster and faster, filling the silence with nonsense. “And that is one of the things I love about you. I feel safe with you and with Furu. I never—”
“I love you.” Furu severed the stream of words, casting Xan a hard look. “And he loves you too. He’ll never admit to it—”
“I don’t need to say the words,” Xan grunted, perturbed with them talking as though he weren’t present. “My actions say enough.” He turned to her and captured her face between his hands, her skin soft and golden, kissed by Viridi’s single sun, its rays filtered through the mist-covered sky.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes trusting, filled with stark emotion. I love her. Xan brushed his lips over hers, tasting fruit and love and willing woman. He touched her with tenderness and reverence, grateful for her, for the love she’d brought the two of them.
Furu leaned forward, his bare chest pressing against Mirian’s back, his perfect ivory muscles contrasting against her tanned curves, and Xan expanded their embrace to include him, their tongues twisting, tangling, their three essences mixing into one lip-smacking flavor.
I’d kill for this, for them. Xan dragged his teeth over their lips, reddening their flesh, marking his lovers. And no one will ever take them away from me, not slavers, not the council and not that bastard Grok.
He reluctantly pulled away from them. “We have to get you to the station.”
“Me?” Mirian frowned, her bottom lip plump with passion. “I—”
“We don’t have much time.” Xan clasped her hand, dragging her forward. Furu followed them, his tread heavy and resigned. “We have to protect you.”
* * * * *
Two hours passed before Mirian tried to leave the station, only to discover the door was stuck. She pushed. She kicked. She slapped the surface. None of her efforts made any difference, yet she continued to try, her males on the other side, their condition unknown.
“Xan! Furu!” Mirian pounded on the station’s thick door, her hands sore and bleeding, her skin split and her voice hoarse. “Open the door. Please. Anyone.” The space-proof alloy dented inward, an object hitting the barrier with a heavy thud. “Yes. That’s it.” She yanked on the handle.