“Now?”
I’d told Trist he was the one I wanted, that I’d wear his collar, but I wasn’t claimed. Our collars didn’t match color. I’d been content to wait until he said it was time, for I was content in submitting to his judgment. I knew he’d know when it would be perfect.
But Brax? I wasn’t ready for that yet. The fact that he’d brought them with him from Trion, that he was ready, spoke volumes.
He shook his head. “I won’t claim you now. You have a little less than thirty days, correct?”
I glanced at Trist, then nodded.
“Today you will wear the nipple clamps you liked so much, but I will add the chain. You will show your primary male how beautiful you look when you are adorned.”
Trist huffed. “She does not need jewels and gold to be beautiful.”
I smiled at him, smiled at the fierce wave of possessiveness I felt through the collars. He wanted me naked. No frills. That got him hot.
But I did like the gems. When I wore them for Brax, I did feel beautiful, in a completely different way than with Trist.
Oh, why did I ever think being with two aliens was hot? It was hard! Two bossy, dominant males to make happy, to keep from killing each other. To satisfy. I’d have to get on the comms and talk to Natalie about the realities of multiple mates. Two cocks were one thing, but the rest of them? Their bossy natures, their fists to fight? Their cranky personalities?
“That is true, she is lovely bare. But bejeweled and begging?” Brax made a little hum sound as he adjusted his cock in his pants.
He held out a hand. “Come here, gara.”
I glanced at Trist, who remained stoic. Yet, I could sense his approval through the collars even without the slight nod of his head.
I was eager for this. I’d dreamed of this in the testing. It was what I wanted, what I needed. Two males, two completely and totally different males, to give me everything.
I took a breath, then walked over to Brax.
Brax
* * *
She was so beautiful. Everything I ever wanted. How had I not seen the way her long hair had hints of red as it caught the light? How had I not seen how small she was, how dainty? Having a mate who was seven-feet tall only accentuated that. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and shelter her. Kiss her. Caress her and tell her how beautiful she was.
I also wanted her on her knees. Submitting. Begging.
There was no doubt Trist was a dominant mate. He was the primary Prillon in their match. There was no second.
There was now. Me.
His dominance was also what Miranda craved. It had to be, for their match was near perfect. It didn’t eliminate me, only confirmed I belonged with them. He needed a second; she needed me. I just had to prove I was worthy of her.
Starting now.
When she stood before me, I reached out and cupped her jaw with my palm, stroked my thumb over her cheek. Her eyes fell closed and she tilted her head as I brushed the softest of skin.
She was softer other places, like the curve of her breast, the inside of her thigh. I’d get there.
Eventually.
“Shall we show your Prillon how you look with your nipples clamped? Bedecked in gems?”
She licked her lips, then nodded.
“I need the words, gara.”
She swallowed, then looked away. “Yes,” she whispered.