“I know that and you know that, but I also blame myself for allowing the mission. See? Just because it is not rational does not mean it invalidates how we feel. And so back to your dreams.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“Are you upset that I observed?”
She managed to shake her head no.
His voice softened, choked with emotion. “At first, I was not sure if you would live. I wanted to absorb as much as I could about you and your life, to hold on to in my heart if we were parted from you.”
She felt a tear roll down her cheek. He reached out and gently brushed it away with his thumb before he continued. “Then I admit I wanted to know if I could understand your pain, what you have suffered, that perhaps in some way I could one day help you fully heal from it.” He released her right hand from the restraint and laced his fingers through hers. “If you wish to be angry with me for the intrusion, I understand. You would have every right to feel that way.”
She shook her head again. No, she wasn’t angry at him. She just hoped…
He smiled. “It is all right. You are still learning. In many ways this is very new to you. It is to be expected there will be times you think about what was, what might have been, instead of what is to come. Do not feel badly about that. Please talk with me, with both of us about it. I swore to you to make you happy, and that is what I wish to do.”
“You aren’t upset?”
“With you? Love, how could I ever be upset with you? I cherish you. I treasure you. I can be exasperated and frustrated and befuddled and outright mind boggled, but upset? Never! I love you, you are my heart and soul.”
Did she really want to dredge up those feelings? About her dreams?
“I would rather focus on the now and the future, not the past.” She squeezed his hand a little, then spoke out loud. “For the three of us.”
She felt her heart speed up at the force of his smile and the wave of joy washing from him to her. “For the three of us, love,” he agreed.
Chapter Twelve
It took nearly a month for Aine to feel even remotely human again. The men made no amorous advances, although she still wanted to lay in bed with them and suck on one or the other for the comforting, peaceful feeling it brought her. One of the men always stayed with her. She felt their undercurrent of fear, that they came so close to her dying they didn’t want to let her out of their sight.
The men relaxed as she gradually resumed her duties. She finally convinced them they wouldn’t break her if they returned to their previously vigorous level of sexual activity.
Truthfully, she’d missed it, missed feeling joined to them not just in mind, heart, and soul, but in body as well.
One evening, when sensing how horny they were and yet holding back because of their lingering fear, she stripped her clothes and stood in the middle of their bed while Sammuel and Ker sat talking at the table.
“One of you better come fuck me right now, or I’ll take care of it myself.”
The men immediately turned to stare at her, their eyes widening as they spotted her standing in the middle of the bed.
As one, both men stood and advanced on her, shedding their clothes and quickly joining her in bed. They grabbed her hands and pulled her down to them.
“You are very demanding,” Ker said as he nipped her throat. “I think perhaps I should teach you a little patience.”
Sammuel knelt between her legs and pushed her thighs apart. “I would agree with that, Master.” He lowered his mouth to her mound and licked her.
She moaned.
“Do not come, Little One,” Ker warned. “Not until I say so.” As always, the command only served to enflame her need to climax to a fever pitch.
Sammuel slipped two fingers inside her, fucking her with them. “She is already wet, Master.”
“Of course she is. She is a very good girl.”
Aine stared up into his eyes. How could she have ever doubted she wanted to be anywhere but right here with these two men? She had it all, their love and a career of sorts. No, not what she’d planned, but she enjoyed it well enough even if it wasn’t a command position of her own.
“You should go ahead and fuck her,” Ker said. “Because then I shall, and I plan on knotting inside her for several hours at least, to enjoy the feel of her body around me.”
Aine moaned. That was, by far, one of her favorite things.
Sammuel smiled as he sat up. Already hard, he paused before he plunged inside her. “And how do you feel, my love?”
“More than ready for a good, hard fucking.”
Before she finished the last word he did just that, a good, hard fucking that lifted and carried her body to the brink of climax. With Ker’s order, she couldn’t make it over.
Ker sat up and fisted Sammuel’s braid. “Sammuel, come hard!” he ordered.
She felt Sammuel’s explosion, his cock throbbing and pulsating, her body greedily welcoming every drop he pumped out. His eyes fell closed as his body trembled before he collapsed on her.
“That was far too soon,” he grumbled against her breast.
Ker released his braid and laughed. “You would say that if I let you fuck her for a week.”
“And your point is?”
“Move your ass, that is my point.” He rolled her over to her stomach and pulled her onto her knees. Kneeling behind her, he stroked her clit. “Is my sweet love ready?”
She wiggled her ass at him. “Oh, yeah.”
As always, besides the feel of his member stretching her, she felt a deeper connection with him, even more than their usual close mental tether.
“How do you wish it, love?” he asked. “Hard and fast, or long and slow?”
She threw her head back. “Hard and fast.”
He grabbed her hips and plowed his cock into her, deeply, almost viciously, her body responding and desperate for release. “Hold it,” he ordered.
Sammuel grabbed her braid and kissed her, his tongue dueling with hers.
“Come now!” Ker ordered.
With her cries muffled by Sammuel’s mouth, her body gave in to the pleasure assaulting her from the inside out as his cock swelled, tightened, the knot forming and stroking her G-spot with every thrust. Her body weak and trembling, exhausted, he wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled to his side with her, his thighs pressed against hers, her body carefully cradled in his arms.
As always, she felt safe and loved. As she shifted position slightly, still impaled on him, she felt well-fucked and still more than a little horny.
“Oh, is that so?” Ker mumbled against the nape of her neck. “Ki’ran, why don’t you help her out?”
Sammuel evilly grinned as he pushed between her legs and tongued her. Her muscles clenched around Ker’s rigid member, sending another tremor of pleasure through her core.
“Come then, love,” Ker said.
She did. Three more times until she begged them to stop.
Ker chuckled. “She has had enough, I believe.”
She snuggled in his arms and felt drowsy. “I think I’m ready to go to sleep.”
“Excellent. So am I.”
When she awoke the next morning, she was still tethered to Ker. Sammuel wasn’t in bed.
“He had a meeting this morning,” Ker said in answer to her unspoken question. “Are you ready to get up?”
She sighed. “Yeah. I guess.” There were really great advantages to this arrangement. She wouldn’t deny that.
He feathered his lips along her neck. “Or, we could spend the morning in bed, if you prefer.”
“Being an admiral does have perks of the rank, huh?”
He chuckled. “Most assuredly it does.” He kissed the back of her neck. “It also has its drawbacks.”
Uh-oh. “Like what?”
“I have been summoned to a political summit. Well, it is not because I’m an admiral, but because I am t’amar-te.”
She knew the t’amar-te, by tradition, sat at the top
of the Act’huran political hierarchy. “We have to go to Act’huras?”
He chuckled again. “No, love. Do not fear. No planet for you. We are assembling at a space station in Act’huran territory. We are far too scattered to all make it back to the planet in a reasonable amount of time. Those of us in this sector will render our decision to the High Council. As will several other smaller meetings.”
“What’s the meeting about?” She didn’t honestly care if it was a discussion of boxers over briefs as long as Ker’s cock stayed firmly embedded inside her.
He laughed. “You are a treasure, love. No, nothing as mundane as undergarments. There is a chance Act’huras might finally forge an official treaty with the Confederation. We must have a formal vote to welcome the opportunity.”
Up until this point, one stupid planet had refused to agree to allow Act’huras into the Confederation because of an altercation over three hundred years earlier when raiders stole a battle cruiser under Reypasian registration and fired upon an Act’huran emissary vessel. The Act’hurans destroyed it. Even though it was in self-defense, the pig-headed Reypasians demanded exorbitant and extreme retribution in both money and several replacement ships.
The Reypasians, at the time a fledgling member of the Confederation, had stymied all Act’huran attempts to join the Confederation since.
Hence the secretive relationship between the Act’hurans and the Confederation military machine.
When Aine found out that both she and Sammuel would accompany Ker to the meeting, she didn’t think anything of it at first. Until the morning they docked at the station and Jarl brought her ceremonial robes to wear.
When the yeoman left them alone she looked at her men, who both seemed decidedly on edge over something. “What’s going on?”
“There is a reason t’wren go to the meeting, love,” Ker explained. “You’ve learned much about our history already.”
She had. The aggressive, warlike t’amar-te nearly destroyed themselves in ancient times, until their t’wren forced an end to the hostilities by placing themselves directly in the line of fire. Not wanting to harm their beloved mates, and by honor code unwilling to harm an innocent t’wren even if their enemy’s mate, the t’wren forced their Masters into peace talks.
And kept them there through some evilly inventive means.
“Yeah?” Aine wasn’t sure she liked where this conversation headed.
Sammuel smirked. “Some old traditions still hold, even if we have been peaceful for over a thousand years. This time, it shall be you in Master’s lap instead of me.”
It finally hit her. The ancient t’wren ingeniously kept their Masters calm and channeled their aggressive tendencies through one sure-fire method.
“Oh, hell no! I am not having sex in public with you!”
Ker caught her chin in his fingers and tipped her face to his. “It is not sex, love. Why do you think the robes are so long and full? All you have to do is sit there and enjoy yourself and even fall asleep, if you wish.” He leaned in and kissed her, draining her objections.
An hour later, dressed in her robes, she tried to not think about her nervous stomach as she walked beside Sammuel, also similarly garbed, three steps behind Ker. Sammuel held her hand and tried to mentally calm her.
Ker was also dressed in ceremonial robes, which she couldn’t help but notice had an easy-access flap in the front.
Then her traitorous body weighed in with a mental image of herself impaled on him. Her clit throbbed in anticipation.
Fuck.
Twenty-seven t’amar-te and their t’wren had assembled in a large, private secure meeting suite deep inside the station. This seemed standard procedure for their culture. Aine had an idea only she felt freaked out.
Sammuel smiled. “I felt terrified my first time, love,” he mentally told her. “Do not worry. The worst part is your anticipation.”
She shot him a dark look but didn’t reply.
Large, soft, comfortable-looking lounges had been set up in a circle facing inward. All but five of the t’amar-te were accompanied by two t’wren, the rest a single t’wren. Aine realized five of the lounges did not have a corresponding chair positioned behind it.
One lone yeoman discretely hovered in the far corner of the room, the only person other than t’amar-te and t’wren in the room.
A majority of the t’amar-te were, she noticed, blond. Maybe not the same shade as Ker, but a number of them were fair-haired. Some had brown hair, one triad had reddish locks. The t’amar-te were also all very tall, broad men, some trim and fit, some softer and obviously out of shape. Most of the t’wren looked to be t’amen-ra, just from their height and build and facial features. Only three others appeared to be human or maybe even another humanoid race, perhaps Caltazi or Axpaltean.
Ker walked over to one t’amar-te and hugged him. “Brother! How are you?” A man stood behind him, his t’wren she assumed from his matching eye and hair color.
The other t’amar-te looked a lot like Ker, his eyes and hair the same shade, just a slightly different shape to his face.
“We are…still adjusting. Healing slowly.”
“My regrets and sorrows go with you.”
“Their t’wren died a few years ago. Killed in an accident,” Sammuel silently told her. “That is Ker’s older brother, D’arsolan Jor-Pythan. You can call him Jor. His t’arn is Dalmetri.”
She felt her soul ache for the men. The mere thought of losing either of her men nearly broke her heart.
“Thank you, brother,” Jor said. “Yet I hear we have reason to celebrate?” A handsome smile lit his face as he looked at Aine. “My baby brother finally takes a t’wren to complete his triad.”
If Ker was his “baby” brother, she wondered about Jor’s age.
“Yes,” Ker said, introducing her. “We are very blessed.”
Aine blushed at the compliment.
One of the other t’amar-te called the meeting to order and everyone migrated toward the circle. Aine noticed those there with a single t’wren took their places at the lounges without a chair behind them.
Ker captured her hand and led her and Sammuel to one of the lounges.
“Do not be nervous, Ki’ato,” Sammuel mentally reassured her.
“Easy for you to say. You trade places with me if you think this is so swell.”
Ker stretched out on one of the lounges. Sammuel immediately took his place in the chair behind him. Ker gently pulled Aine into his lap, facing him, straddling him. She realized the way the lounge was configured created a place to comfortably place her legs.
He adjusted her robes without fanfare and pulled her to his chest. “Just relax.”
While she could expertly converse with her men and with other crew in Act’huran, she couldn’t follow the extremely formal, archaic and fast-paced Act’huran dialect used in the meeting. She closed her eyes and listened to Ker’s heartbeat under her ear, the comforting sound of his voice rumbling through his chest and into her body as he gently stroked her back while he participated in the discussion.
She had, in fact, almost dozed off when she felt him discretely reach under her robes.
“Get wet for me, love,” he mentally commanded.
She already was, and it was the only warning he gave. He quickly entered her, his cock immediately knotting inside her.
She kept her eyes closed as she felt her face burn with embarrassment even as her body welcomed the intrusion.
Sammuel laid a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw his concerned expression. “Are you all right?” he silently asked so as not to disturb the meeting.
“This would be a lot more all right in the privacy of our cabin.” Even when he molested her on the ship’s bridge she hadn’t minded, partially because he’d had her so horny she couldn’t stand it, and on those occasions it wasn’t so blatantly obvious what was going on.
He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Take a look around and imagine being a man at your first me
eting such as this. Mere weeks after being joined to your Master.”
“You’re getting way too much pleasure out of this.”
“And so shall you, love. Believe me.”
Okay, so he had her there. It definitely felt good, although the way Ker positioned his hands on her back, over her hips, prevented her from shifting her body the way she wanted to make it feel even better.
“If you need anything, tell me,” Sammuel assured her.
So that explained the lone yeoman.
“Yes,” Sammuel answered. “If someone only has a t’arn or single t’wren and not a second t’wren to serve them both, the yeoman can fetch them food or drink as they need so they do not have to adjourn the meeting early.”
“How long, exactly, are we going to be here?”
He smiled. “A while.”
Fuck.
He returned to his seat. After a few minutes she braved a glance around them. The other t’wren were similarly situated, some already asleep. The t’amar-te went about their business as if they didn’t have their dicks buried into someone sprawled in their lap, even though the robes everyone wore completely concealed their activities. If someone didn’t know what was going on, they would assume they simply sat there. Most of the t’wren were female, a few male, both Masters with single t’wren and those in triads where all three were male.
Some of the attending t’wren occasionally leaned in, having silent conversations with their t’wren as Sammuel had with her.
Aine tried to doze off, but with the erotically pleasant sensation of Ker deeply knotted and throbbing inside her, that wasn’t possible. Sammuel checked in with her regularly, his obvious amusement at her change in attitude annoying her.
At one point she realized she had dozed when she felt Sammuel’s gentle touch on her shoulder. He held up a bottle of water for her to drink. She realized she was pretty thirsty and drank before handing it back. Ker held another and continued his spirited-sounding conversation.
She didn’t know if it made her feel better or worse that he could carry on as if she wasn’t impaled on his cock.
Sammuel’s amused laughter sounded in her head. “Why do you think he is not mentally conversing with you, love? It is taking every ounce of his focus and self-control to attend to this gathering. That is the point.
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