“Trist,” she groaned. Writhed, although there was nowhere for her to go.
I felt her pleasure, her heat. With my hands on her hips, I lifted her almost completely off my cock. I’d barely moved since she first settled upon me and I was desperate for the slide, the friction.
Brax slid out the same amount, then I lowered her down. Double fucked, double filled.
She let her head fall back as the two of us took her. The need built, swirled. Our breaths mingled, our skin slick with sweat. We felt complete, whole, with her between us. I was going to come, I couldn’t hold back much longer, but she would find her pleasure again first.
And so I did the one thing I knew would set her off, the one thing I never expected to do. I reached up, opened both of her nipple clamps at the same time.
Her eyes flared as the blood rushed back to the tender tips. I felt the flood of pain, the flush of heat, the gush of wetness and heard her scream of pleasure.
It was too much, too great to resist and I followed her over. Brax stiffened and growled as his cock pulsed to fill her ass.
I sensed her contentment settled between me and Brax. He could give her pleasure, that was not in question.
But everything else? Time would tell. Until then, I’d let my sleeping mate rest, for I had plans for her.
12
Brax, Battlegroup Zakar, Support Ship Prima-Nova, Cafeteria – Three days later
* * *
Miranda was laughing with a group of four Prillon children, working together to make some kind of food, and not with the S-Gen machine. The youngest, a small female, was perhaps six years old. The eldest a boy of eleven or twelve. He had an ion blaster strapped to his thigh, which I kept my mouth shut about. I didn’t know if it was armed or if it were a training pistol used to teach a child responsibility and proper care of such a weapon and to ensure he became accustomed to constantly wearing one.
On Trion, we did not arm children. This was a war zone though, and he was Prillon, as tall as Miranda already, even at his young age. He appeared to be enjoying the extra attention from the new Lady Treval as much as the rest of them. I didn’t blame the boy, for I was enamored by her as well.
I had no idea how much honor, adoration and responsibility the mates of these warriors were blessed with upon their arrival in space. It was a dangerous place filled with constant tension, possible threat, imminent battles. Potential death. Commander Zakar himself had warned me from disrespecting any lady in the battlegroup at peril of my life. They not only gave of themselves to their mates—and for a Prillon match she had to contend with two alpha, bossy males—but to the people of the battlegroup as well. Big, small, young and old, they all wanted the ladies’ attention.
Not that I needed the warning from Zakar. I was Trion, not an idiot. I did not disrespect females, but the social structure within a battlegroup was fascinating. The warriors were in charge of all things military, and their mates were equal to them in rank on the civilian side. In fact, when it came to domestic disputes or living arrangements, any part of day-to-day life, Lady Zakar out-ranked her mate, the commander of an entire battlegroup. As for the children, they adored the ladies, worshipped them like mythical creatures and craved their attention.
I’d read all of this, of course, back in my school days when we learned about the different planets and their unusual cultures, but seeing it in action was completely different. Watching Miranda blossom with such joy was sobering indeed. I could not have offered her this on Trion. It showed how incomplete a life she would have had there with me. That perhaps she’d been correct in walking away from me and being tested. The children with her were lucky, but so was I.
I would miss the sun, the sand and the fresh breeze on my face only found on Trion. If I could have Miranda, I would learn to live without. It would not be a hardship when I could see her smiling face. Hear her laugh, her moans of pleasure, feel the way her pussy clenched my cock, watched as she pleased her other mate. Even now, I hardened with want for her. Yet even with the knowledge I could sink into her sweet heat every night, space was more of an adjustment than I’d been anticipating.
Who was I kidding? I’d foolishly thought to arrive, steal her away from whatever idiot she’d been mated to, and transport back to Trion. I’d thought to take her from her new mate and give up nothing.
I sighed, ran a hand over my face. I’d been a fool. More than a fool. Selfish. Idiotic. Gods, I didn’t deserve her. In that, Trist was right. I wasn’t worthy to be her mate if I thought of myself first. I couldn’t give her up though. I wouldn’t. No matter the cost to my pride, my ego, or even my life, she would be mine. I would share her with a big Prillon warrior who was gruff and severe with everyone but Miranda. With her, he changed. He was… more. He knew that having a mate required sacrifice, accommodation. Transformation.
I did. Now. And that made me an idiot. But I was trying.
Miranda chose that moment to laugh as the young Prillon girl had done something to create a cloud of the strange white powder she called flour, something from Earth used to make sweet foods. The flour hovered in the air before settling on her head. She had lovely copper colored hair, and the white powder made her look very silly indeed. I couldn’t help but smile.
The entire group laughed as Miranda hugged the mischievous young one. All of them were smudged with the flour, but no one seemed to mind. Her dark green gown was coated and smudged with the stuff, especially the curve of her breast beneath the
clinging fabric. That green was Trist’s color. Trist’s claim. It seemed a cruel irony that the jewels in the adornments I had designed and used upon her were the same color. I imagined how my adornments would hang from those round nipples pierced with rings, how the gold medallions would hang between on a thin chain and tug on her nipples to keep her constantly aroused. My cock grew harder still watching her glow with happiness, with contentment and a sense of peace I’d never seen on her face before.
The flour was inconsequential. As were the rest of the ingredients for the cookies I’d heard Roark talk about back on Trion. Miranda had a love for something called baking, making edible food by hand. I was perfectly content with the S-Gen machine and had never seen flour, butter or eggs before, but the experience of teaching the children how to do this baking obviously made my mate… no, Trist’s mate, very happy.
I thought of the lucky warrior. Trist’s smile was pure adoration for his female and never in my life had I been so envious of another male. The three of us had transported together to this support ship. Trist had a meeting with the crew and he hadn’t wanted Miranda far from his side.
I was in complete agreement for once, not wanting to leave her side either. I joined them. There was not a chance I would let the two of them go off on their own. If I were to win at least part of Miranda’s heart, I needed to be with her, not lazing about on the main battleship.
He, too, watched our mate. Yes, she was mine, gods be damned. He’d returned from his meeting with the crew and leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed, a look on his face I knew well. I’d felt that way when she’d been mine. Or at least been in my bed back on Trion. I’d been content. Full of desire and possessive urges and the need to protect.
Even here on a support ship, I worried for her safety. Trist did as well, and I didn’t need a collar to sense that. It seemed she, too, had an important purpose in visiting the ship, something about meeting the crew on all the ships as she was the new second in command to Lady Zakar.
What a responsibility and yet she was enjoying it, making a mess and having fun. He went to his meeting, and I sat in this room, watching the female I cared about happily explore her new life and her new role as the important and influential Lady Treval. I stared at the black collar around her neck and knew it would be green before long. She still had nearly three weeks to decide if Trist was the mate for her, although I knew she didn’t need that time. She was sure of the match. She was in love… and not with me. Not anymore. I’d totally larked that up.