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“Tyran, you’re being—”

Tyran cut off Hunt’s words. “Our mate likes it when we take control.”

“That might be true, but we should take some time, get to know each other. Give her some time, Tyran. She’s not ready.”

It seemed Hunt was a little more of a romantic than Tyran. Protective, too. But he was also wrong. I didn’t want safe and sane right now. I felt on the edge of screaming my frustration. I needed release. I needed to be conquered, claimed by these two warriors. I needed to know they were really mine. That was the only way I was going to feel safe. Somehow, by some miracle, Tyran seemed to know that.

“I bet you’re wet now, hearing your mates argue over you.”

I was, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

“Fuck, Tyran, I didn’t know you were this…”

“What?” Tyran slowly shook his head. His tongue flicked out and slid along his full lower lip. “Dominant? Tell him, mate, tell him you want this. Tell him you need me just like this.”

“How can you be so sure I do?” I asked. “I worked for the FBI. I’ve seen it all. I don’t like women being forced. I don’t like women being demeaned. I won’t stand for it.”

“I don’t want a weak woman,” Tyran replied. “We will never force you. You have a voice. You’ll tell me if you don’t like something.” His gaze wandered over me slowly, lingering on my body like he had a direct connection to my core. “And you’ll tell me when you do.”

I’d never told anyone about my sexual interests. I’d known since I was younger that I was a little different than others. When my friends were playing wedding with their Barbie and Ken dolls, I was tying Barbie up. I was bending Barbie over Ken’s knee for a spanking.

As I got older and learned about sex, I wanted it rough. I wanted a guy who held me down, talked dirty to me. But that didn’t work so well on the old couch in my parents’ basement. Steve Taylor, who’d taken my virginity, was too eager to manage anything more than breaking my hymen. He’d come in about thirty seconds. Maybe less. That was the first time he’d gotten his cock wet and he’d hadn’t been able to hold back—even thought he’d worn a condom.

When I told my boyfriend in college I wanted him to tie me up, he’d thought I was a freak. So, yeah, he wasn’t my boyfriend after that. I turned all my perverted leanings toward reading the steamier romance novels out there. Johanna Lindsay and the hero that kidnapped the virgin, keeping her prisoner on his ship. The ravaging Vikings. The commanding Doms. Those fictional heroes made me wet. They had fueled my fantasies as I used my vibrator and accepted the fact that no man would ever really be able to give me what I wanted.

I was broken. That’s what I thought. Abnormal.

I couldn’t tell anyone, not when I went into the FBI. Especially not after being transferred to the sex crimes division. God, if one of those guys learned I wanted to be dominated and controlled, they’d think I’d gone insane, contaminated by the sick fucks we put behind bars.

So the fantasy never became a reality and I’d never told anyone.

“How do you know what I want?” I asked.

Now he grinned, and his face transformed. God, he was so hot and that look was solely for me. Solely because of me.

“The match. We are a puzzle that has always had a missing piece. Now we’ve found it. Set Hunt’s mind at ease.”

“How?” I asked, looking to the other Prillon.

“When I commanded you to drop the blanket, did it make you hot?”

I bit my lip, stared between them.

“Never fear telling us the truth,” Hunt said. “We have been outcasts for a long time. Nothing you can say will be judged here.”

I took a deep breath, let it out. I’d come halfway across the universe for this. The time to be a coward was behind me. “Yes, it made me hot.”

Tyran closed the distance between us, placed his big hands on my shoulders. While he was gentle, the heavy weight of them made me feel somehow settled. “Are you wet, mate? Wet and ready for my cock?”

Such gentle hands and such crude words. I shivered. “Yes.”

“I’m hard. I’ve never been so hard. I like to dominate, be in control. Fuck hard and rough. Spank and play. I want to tie you up and make you beg, keep you exposed and open, exactly where I need you. I want to do very dirty things to you.”

Oh. My. God. I was going to spontaneously combust, and he hadn’t done anything but touch my shoulders. Behind him, Hunt stepped closer and I felt them surrounding me with their energy. I was completely at their mercy, and there was no one here to save me. No one who would hear me cry out. I was theirs. They owned me and there was nothing I could do about it.

The realization made my legs tremble as I fought to stay focused, not get lost in the conversation.

“What do you want, mate?”


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides: The Colony Science Fiction