by Nia Mars
“Those are for all-day wear.”
The idea of having something like that inside me for an entire day nearly stops my heart.
He opens me up with one finger, then two, then three, gently pumping in to me.
“You are so breathtakingly beautiful. I love the sight of your swollen clit, your swollen lips down here, all coated in your desire. I love your tight little hole squeezing around my fingers.” He gives the most carnal smile that ever existed. “Now relax.”
“Sure.” I offer a pained laugh and look at the ceiling.
Then I feel the plug against my opening.
Never. Going. To work.
I’m not even going to protest. I’m just going to let him find it out for himself.
Slowly, slowly he increases the pressure.
“Relax.”
Right.
He moves a finger to my clit and gently begins to rub.
Oh. That’s nice.
But not the other thing!
He pushes it deeper.
“Why are you doing this?” I get out the words with effort. I sound like I’m climbing a mountain.
“You’ll see.”
The tip breaches the first ring of muscles.
Stars.
Maybe he’ll stop there. Maybe that’ll be enough.
Definitely not. He doesn’t even pause.
I look at the fierce concentration on his face. “You’re enjoying this that much?”
“Playing with your body is my greatest pleasure. I want to take you in every possible way, show you every trick, make your body and mind melt along with your heart.”
“I’m melted.”
He laughs and pushes.
The damn thing is in at least a full inch. I’m so stretched, it’s ridiculous. Too much.
And yet he keeps pushing.
One more inch.
Then another.
“How long can it be? Is it in yet?”
He laughs again. “Almost.”
And he pushes and pushes, all the way in, then gives a deep, heartfelt groan of satisfaction. I’m way too full to relax, but I try. For my own sake.
I’m almost there when he grips the end and pushes the thing into me, fucking me with it.
My back comes off the bed once again.
Suddenly, pleasure tempers the pain and the burning.
“Oh.” The single word on my lips is a scream and a pant and a please at the same time.
“Is it better?” His gaze is riveted on my face.
I nod without words.
He pulls the plug out, awakening new nerve endings, then pushes it back in, grinding the base against me. It shouldn’t be possible, but he brings me to the edge by fucking me like that.
Then he lets go and moves over me. “I’m going to take you now.”
Does he mean...
“Take it out,” I beg.
He silences me with a kiss. And then he’s pushing into my empty wet channel that receives him like the traitor it is.
The plug is too big. Roax is enormous. No. This can’t be right.
Yet he manages to work his entire length inside.
I’ve been filled almost like this before, but it’d been different. It’d been Dason and Roax, warm, flexible flesh instead of the rigid plug. Somehow this feels like more of an invasion. That I’m tied and immobile increases every sensation too much.
And Roax has been withholding orgasm from me for what seems like an hour.
I’m a brainless mess under him as he drives into me hard.
I can’t hold off any longer. I can’t.
He knows.
He holds my gaze. “You may come whenever you’re ready, Ava Mine.”
Then he lowers his wicked mouth and bites my nipple. Hard.
The combination of pleasure and pain rips through me and I fly apart. My entire body pulses, floods with joy. I scream his name as I come and come and come.
He keeps pumping into me. He won’t let my orgasm stop. When I’m almost done, he bites the other nipple, dragging out the orgasm. Then he reaches between us, pinches my swollen clit, and makes me come all over again.
Only when I sob for mercy does he shoot his hot seed into me, only then does he cover my face with soft kisses and tells me how well I’ve done.
I’m only half-conscious when he removes the plug, unties my ropes, massages my limbs, cleans me up, then enfolds me in his arms, pulling the covers over us.
I swear I’m catatonic from pleasure. I drift in time and space, until my thundering heart, slowly, slowly regains its regular rhythm. In Roax’s strong arms, I drift to sleep.
Even in sleep, I can feel his fingers glide over me, caressing my back, my arm, the curve of my ass, as if he can’t keep his hands off me. His lips brush against my hairline, soft as a breath.
When I wake, he smiles. His obsidian eyes consume me. “You are my world.”
“You like to control your world.”
“Yes.”
“Then will it be always like this? The way we did...” I lower my gaze to his chest as I look for the words.
“It can be. But it doesn’t have to be.” He tilts my chin up so he can look into my eyes. “Would you be willing to play with me like this from time to time?”
As if coming so hard that they heard me two solar systems over was hardship?
“Yes.”
He brushes a kiss over my lips. “Words don’t exist to express how much I love you, Ava Mine.”
WE PRETTY MUCH SPEND THE NEXT FEW DAYS IN BED as our ship crosses back into Federation territory. Roax uses every torturous implement that he has in that room on me. Every. Single. One.
Although I submit fully to all his desires, it always feels as if somehow he is the one serving me, as if my pleasure is paramount.
He’s on the command deck for once, leaving me alone to rest in his giant bed when the display screen comes on. Tiam.
He takes in the sight of me replete in bed. “Do you need rescuing, my Ava?”
I grin at him. “I missed you, Tiam.”
He draws up a skeptical eyebrow. “You mean Roax left you time for coherent thought?”
We grin at each other.
“So,” he says. “You think if we asked to dock with his ship, he’d fire at us?”
I sit up so fast that the cover slides off my naked breasts.
Tiam’s gray eyes fill with heat and longing.
“We? Who else is with you?”
“All of us,” Uthan says as he pushes into the picture.
Then Koah appears on Tiam’s other side. “We missed you too much.”
Dason pipes up from the back. “We thought we’d give you a full escort back to Merim. If you don’t mind.”
I scramble for the cover. “I don’t mind.”
“Then the only question is,” Koah says, “will Roax kill us?”
“Yes.” The single word comes from Roax who’s standing in the doorway.
How long has he been there, listening?
“No!” I assure my kreks on the display.
Roax grumbles as he strides to the bed. “The decision is yours, Ava Mine. But if they’re coming, I’m going to make good use of the time while I still have you to myself.”
He lunges onto the bed then rolls me under him.
“Fight him off. We’re almost there,” Koah promises before the screen goes blank.
I laugh into Roax’s grumpy gaze.
“What are you so happy about?” he grouses.
“It feels nice to be loved so much by my kreks.”
And it truly does. For the first time in my life, I’m truly, insanely happy. I feel optimistic about the future. I can’t wait to get there.
Roax bites my lower lip. “You’re just pleased because you have an entire harem of lovesick puppies.”
“You don’t strike me as a harmless puppy.”
“Damn right.” He kisses me. “I’m your dangerous tiger.”
“Mine?”
He kisses
me again. “Yours forever. I love you with the fire of a thousand supernovas.”
I grin. “That’s a lot.”
“By the time those numbnuts get here, I’m planning on scorching the sheets.”
He wastes no time mastering my body. I let him. I master him right back, in fact. And when the others get here, I’ll love them just as much.
I’m their Oath Forger.
From Nia:
It’s over! How wild is that? I can’t believe the series is finished. I remember plotting the story last year and thinking This is going to be almost a thousand pages! Can I really do that? I’m going the miss the kreks and Ava so much! Thank you for sticking with Oath Forger to the end. I love you with the fire of a thousand supernovas!!!
Thank you for the online reviews! The second a book is out, I’m all over online, looking for what you thought of the story. If you haven’t yet, would you consider leaving a review, pretty please? And if you liked the books, would you recommend them to your friends? THANK YOU!!!! Also, thank you for being excited about this story and caring about the characters. Your FB posts kept me going.
Now let’s chat! facebook.com/niamarsauthor I’d love to hear what you think of the ending.
And to make sure that you’re first to know when I have a new series (I’m plotting 3 different things right now), please sign up for my newsletter on my web site. niamars.com
THANK YOU!!!!
--Nia
ABOUT ME:
Books. Reading. Writing. Playing with the dog. That’s my life, in a nutshell. I love discovering new authors and new trends. Hello Reverse Harem novels!!!! Where have you been all my life? I love everything sci-fi, paranormal, and fantasy. I eat enough chocolate that at this point, I’m probably made of chocolate. OK, chocolate and coffee.
WHAT ELSE: If you’d rather try a standalone sci-fi romance from me, grab WARLORD (see preview in the back of this book.) And make sure you don’t sit near anything flammable while reading it. Because it’s HOT. Whatever level of heat you’re thinking right now? Double it. (Not recommended if you don’t have AC, or at least a ceiling fan.) You’ve been warned.
MY WISH LIST: (In case my fairy grandmother is reading this.)
For the OATH FORGER series to find readers who love these stories as much as I do.
Finishing my Master’s Degree in (what else) Writing Creative Fiction. (When I’m not writing books, I’m doing homework.)
And...if you’re up for more reading, here is a little taste of WARLORD, my super steamy, standalone sci-fi romance. (Available now.) Enjoy!
WARLORD
By Nia Mars
Another day, another planet conquered. Except this time, instead of sending intergalactic warlord Lukar Xon off to the next war, the Emperor gifts him with a governorship and a princess.
Meela is the heir to a fallen kingdom. She is the conqueror's prize. But she will bow to no one. Certainly not to a barbarian! She might have to surrender her body to the beast, but she will not surrender her heart.
WARNING: This book contains a variety of explicit sexual situations. The hero is an intergalactic warlord, and he takes what he wants. If that kind of fantasy doesn’t appeal to you, you might not enjoy this story.
Chapter One
The three things intergalactic warlord Lukar Xon most liked about winning a war were:
Winning.
The break he and his men would get at the nearest waystation before the Emperor sent them into the next war.
The camp women he would get to fuck at the waystation.
They were the rough and tough type, and so was he. He liked camp women just fine.
Half-asleep, he sat sprawled in his commander chair and let pleasant images of past encounters fill his mind, hoping they would lead to interesting dreams.
“Incoming communications from the Emperor in one minute.”
Lukar opened his eyes as he groaned at Selep, the fighter ship’s captain. “What does a man have to do to get some shut-eye around here?”
He should have gone back to his quarters and gone to bed. Then again, Selep would wake him for the Emperor, no matter where Lukar was.
Take the planet, subjugate the king, the Emperor had said. So Lukar had taken the planet. Tembria wasn’t much more than a ball of red rock with one large cerium mine and the city state built on top of the wealth. Lukar had killed the king in the final battle. That was as subjugated as a guy can get. If the Emperor had any complaints, Lukar didn’t want to hear them.
“On screen in five seconds,” Captain Selep called out, and the dozen crew members on the spaceship’s command deck quieted.
The captain was lean and mean, looked more like a pirate than a proper military man; his nose nearly flat, it’d been broken so many times. He’d had rough beginnings, but he hadn’t let that stop him. “Four. Three. Two. One.”
Lukar swallowed a groan as the Emperor’s face filled the screen. No one should have to wake up to that.
Emperor Walestran had been a warrior himself once. Now he had a pasty double chin and girth to prove he’d hit the good times a few decades back. He wore the dark green uniform of his elite forces, because he thought it made him look more badass. In reality, he looked like a blob of tofu wrapped in seaweed.
Lukar sat up straight as his side of the video connected. “Your Highness.”
“I have a job for you, warlord.”
No ‘well done,’ no ‘how bad are the casualties.’
“I am looking forward to it.” Lukar was a warrior. He didn’t require a pat on the back. His men, however... “The troops will need a month to rest and recover before the next deployment. They are owed leave. Any damage to our ships can be repaired at the same time. We are headed right now to the Sector Nine waystation.”
“No need for that.” The man on the screen brushed Lukar’s words aside with an imperial flick of his wrist.
It wasn’t as if Lukar had expected better. He could and would figure out how to get his men some rest, and his ships repaired, on the way to the next engagement. If their new target was on the other side of the galaxy, he could steal at least a day or two here and there.
“Destination planet, Your Highness?”
“Tembria.”
“We just took Tembria.” It’d be nice if the Emperor could at least keep track.
Irritation flashed through Lukar, followed by a sense of foreboding. He didn’t like the glint of childish excitement in the Emperor’s beady brown eyes. That look usually meant the man had a ‘great’ idea. Like changing military strategy at the last second because he had a dream. Or taking out the life support system of an entire planet because on his last visit he’d gotten a bad vibe and thought they were planning a rebellion against the empire.
The Emperor was convinced he had a sixth sense about these things. He’d lived longer than any of the Nulean Emperors before him, which he took as proof of his uncanny abilities. True, he had unmasked a number of assassins in the past couple of years, but Lukar contributed that to the fact that the man, through sheer dumb luck, had managed to assemble a competent team of people around himself.
“You are staying on Tembria.” The Emperor’s regal smile said he thought he was being magnanimous. “You served me well, warlord. You deserve a break. You deserve a prize.”
Lukar gritted his teeth and hoped it wouldn’t come through on the vid feed. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m honored. For how long?”
“You took Tembria for me. Now you’re going to hold Tembria for me, warlord. According to initial assessments, the mine has great potential, but it’s not producing as it should. I want you to look into the ‘Resistance,’ some revolutionary movement among the miners. Minister Kellar reminded me that you have a background in mining. You are in the right place, at the right time. I expect doubled output in a month.”
If Minister Kellar, the old asshole, got hit by a spaceship, his death would have grieved Lukar none. “And then back to war, Your Highness?”
Again, t
he Emperor’s hand flicked. “I’m putting you permanently in charge.” His magnanimous smile flashed again and grated. “Now, go do what needs to be done tonight.”
“Which is?”
“Eat their food, drink their wine, fuck their queen. Same as I would. You’ll be there in my place.”
If Lukar had had something in his hand, he might have thrown it at the Emperor’s fading image on the screen.
“Congratulations?” Selep risked, and the rest of the crew echoed the sentiment.
Lukar slouched in his chair and kicked his feet out in front of him, exhaustion overriding his anger. He dropped his head onto the chair’s back and stared at the metal glint of the ceiling. Everything he was resisted the order. His jaw was so tight it hurt.
“I’m a warlord, dammit, not a satrap.”
Warlords gained territory, satraps governed it. Lock Lukar up on a planet for a year, and he would go mad. Probably sooner than a year. He couldn’t handle permanently.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with all these people?”
“You heard the man.” Selep’s tone held more glee than was healthy for him. “Eat their food, drink their booze, fuck their women. Same as the Emperor would.”
That was the Emperor’s standard procedure. Take a territory, kill the ruler, make the queen his concubine, or, if there was no queen, take one of the princesses—or all of them. Father some children. That usually settled the local population. The conquered didn’t mind being part of the empire so much, if their noble bloodlines were represented among the Emperor’s heirs.
The Emperor was an absentee landlord, for the most part. He’d enjoy the spoils of his conquest for a month or so, then leave again. The people of the planet could almost pretend that things were like before conquest. Except for the satrap left behind to govern them, and the bloodletting of the Emperor’s enormous taxes.
Lukar tried to picture it. Stranded on-planet. Indefinitely grounded. Politics. And the rest...
