Three.
The orgasm rolled me under, the release so intense, so complete that I did not know if I moaned, cried or screamed. Perhaps all three. All I knew was pleasure, fire roaring through me from head to toe as my pussy clamped down so hard on the probe filling my pussy that the pulses in my core forced it from my body.
I floated back to myself, Grigg’s gentle strokes over my abdomen and the softest kisses applied to the undersides of my breasts, my neck, like a man worshiping at an altar.
The emptiness of my pussy did not please me and I braced my feet in the supports, moving, searching for more.
As Grigg tucked his still hard cock back into his pants, Rav slowly removed the device from my ass and the moment it was gone, the restraints binding my wrists released. I was lifted into Grigg’s arms like a doll, wrapped in the sheet and cradled to his chest as he sat upon the exam table. I didn’t fight him, not this time. I couldn’t. I had no fight left. I was putty. Jelly. Shattered.
He massaged my shoulders, my arms, my wrists. How could he be so gentle after being so demanding, so commanding just moments earlier?
I couldn’t think about him or what they’d done to me. How I felt about it or even how they’d made me feel. I was too overwhelmed, too sated. My mind was a soft blur, like waking up from a wonderful nap and I didn’t want to shatter that. Not yet. Reality would return soon enough.
Rav put his equipment into some kind of container, I suspected for processing, or cleaning, or whatever these aliens did with their used medical stuff, and turned to us with three strips of ribbon in his hand, two were a deep, midnight blue, and one was black.
He set them on the exam table beside us and lifted a blue strip to his neck. The strange ribbon sealed around his neck, forming a perfectly fitted collar. He held the other blue one to Grigg, who shook his head, refusing to let go of me to take it. “Put it around my neck.”
Rav walked behind Grigg and placed the ribbon around Grigg’s neck. Immediately, the ribbon shrank and adjusted to the thick, muscled heat of my primary mate’s neck. Now, they wore identical bands.
With just the black ribbon remaining, Rav came around the table and lifted it to his palm, holding it out to me.
“What is this?” Curious, I reached for the black ribbon. It felt like warm silk, but thicker than the ribbon it appeared to be, more like the thickness of a cat’s collar back home, but about an inch wide.
Rav answered. “This is your mating collar. You must place it around your neck. We cannot do it for you.”
I studied the simple black strand, confused. “Why? What is it for?”
Rav lifted his knuckles to stroke my cheek and I did not flinch from the simple gesture. After the intensity of what I’d just experienced on that exam table, his gentleness was like a balm to my senses. “It marks you as ours. For thirty days your collar will be black, indicating that you are in an active claiming period with your mates. Once we complete the claiming ceremony, your collar will turn blue, to match ours, marking you forever as an honored and protected mate of the Zakar warrior clan.” Shoulders back, his chest swelled with pride. “We are one of the oldest, strongest families of Prillon Prime.”
Well, whoo-hoo. Mated into a house of alien nobility. “What if I don’t put it on?”
Chapter Six
Amanda
Grigg growled, and damn my traitor pussy, it clenched hard, closing around emptiness with an ache that wasn’t welcome.
“If you refuse the collar, any unmated male who sees you may claim the right to court you for thirty days.”
I could take care of myself, so what was the issue?
“What if I tell him no?”
Rav sighed. “You can’t, Amanda. You have been sent to us by the Interstellar Bride Program, a declared bride, a matched mate perfect for the warriors of Prillon Prime. Should you refuse us, another has the right to claim you for the thirty-day courting period. It’s too late to change your mind. Any male you refuse will simply be replaced by another, and another. Death matches will be fought. Good warriors will die for the chance to court you.
That was medieval. Stupid. “Death matches? That’s crazy.”
“It’s custom. If someone were to try and claim you, Amanda, I would fight in a death match for you. I would win.”
I wasn’t sure if Grigg’s confidence was because of the strength of our match or the skill of his fighting.
&nbs
p; “What happens if I have a daughter? She has to be mated when she’s born? She can’t go anywhere without a man? That’s ridiculous.”
Grigg’s answer rumbled through his thick chest. “Of course not. Females are respected among us. Honored. Those born on Prillon are protected by all the warriors of their clan until she is of mating age and chooses to take a mate’s collar.”
“What happens if there are no more warriors left? If she’s an orphan? Or a widow?”