Price of Passion (3-in-1 Collection)

by Aubrey Ross

  They collapsed against the table, their harsh panting the only sound. Even semi-erect Kenton felt huge. Mason rested his forehead against the table and savored the fullness and the heat.

  “Are you all right?” Kenton lifted his weight off Mason and carefully pulled out.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He tried to sound casual, but nearly losing control had left him shaken. “You used half a bottle of catova oil.”

  “Your whole body grew hot right before you came.”

  Bending to pull up his pants, Mason kept his gaze averted. “That doesn’t happen to you?”

  Kenton caught his chin and raised his face until their gazes locked. “It hasn’t happened to anyone else I’ve been with on this planet either.”

  “It was nothing you need to worry about.” Mason allowed an autocratic edge to sharpen his tone. “We need to setup before the others arrive. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter Five

  Kenton adjusted his chair and angled his body until he found a comfortable position. It was going to be a long day. The conference room was across the hall and two doors down from Mason’s office. Kenton watched the “action” on a vidscreen. From time to time something Peylla said caught Kenton’s attention, but the majority of the meeting was dreadfully dull.

  The Palontian delegation dominated one side of the oval table. Their brightly colored silk tunics and elaborate headdresses appeared gaudy in comparison to the charcoal gray uniforms worn by the Sabrotine officials.

  Kenton’s gaze settled on Peylla and a knot of tension gripped his stomach. How much had Kalleto told her brother about what happened at the potentate’s palace? Had she accepted that Kenton had had no more control over the events than she’d had, or had she painted him a villain just like Chaya? Kenton took a deep breath and buried the memories. Both Chaya and Kalleto were dead. None of it mattered anymore. He wouldn’t allow it to matter.

  Turning his attention to Mason, Kenton felt a different kind of tension spread through his abdomen. Mason presided over the discussion with watchful subtlety, only adding comments or redirecting the conversation when the hotheaded ambassadors left him no other option. Kenton was fascinated by Mason’s eloquence and the insight with which he guided the negotiation. Mason took advantage of his unassuming appearance and people’s tendency to underestimate him.

  Boredom set in about halfway through the afternoon. How did Mason do this day after day? Kenton imagined him naked and bent over the conference table, with his hands bound at the small of his back. There were many things Kenton had wanted to do last night, but as soon as he’d pushed into that tight, hot ass they had both been lost. The next time they fucked, Kenton would make sure there were restraints and assorted toys, everything they’d need to explore the full range of their desire.

  It was odd. In the short time he’d been free to picture a future of his own choosing he’d always seen himself with a woman at his side. He’d learned on the Retributionthere were aspects of his sexuality he had yet to explore. Mason was not at all what he had planned, but last night had been enlightening. The more submissive Mason became, the more Kenton enjoyed the experience. In that at least, they were well matched.

  “The federation will not throw itself in the middle of a civil war,” Otokar objected, snapping Kenton away from his speculation. “The blockade was suspended pending the outcome of the conflict. That’s as far as we’re willing to go. We’ll pay you generously for the wrestilian ore and you can use the credits to hire mercenaries.”

  “Mercenaries are notoriously unreliable,” Peylla countered. His face was framed by a bright blue headdress that perfectly matched his eyes. “Wrestilian ore isn’t the only valuable resource on Palonti. If one of the other tribes outbids us, we could end up fighting our own mercenaries. It’s happened before.”

  Kenton watched the Sabrotine commander, waiting for his reaction. Many confused the Palontian love of luxury with weakness. Would this grim-faced soldier be able to see beyond Peylla’s garish clothing and recognize the determination in his eyes?

  “Yours isn’t the only deposit of wrestilian on Palonti.” Otokar crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

  Apparently not. Kenton shook his head. Mason had his work cut out for him with these two.

  “It is by far the richest,” Peylla said. “Do you really want to spend the next five lunar cycles repeating this tiresome ritual with representatives from the other tribes?”

  A smile tugged at one corner of Otokar’s mouth. “I can think of many ways I would rather spend my time. Still, I have no interest in your planetary conflict.”

  “It was my understanding that the federation was interested in establishing alliances with stable world governments. Unlike the previous potentate, my father is in favor of such an alliance, but first and foremost, Palonti’s government must be stabilized.”

  Otokar chuckled. “Meaning the Obikee Tribe must win this war.”

  “We are the largest tribe by far. It is right that we rule.”

  “It isn’t always the largest tribe that wins. It’s the strongest. Do you hold that distinction as well?”

  “Ambassadors,” Mason drew their attention to the head of the table. “Let’s focus on the offer at hand. In exchange for wrestilian ore, Ambassador Peylla has requested troops, weapons, and training for his warriors.”

  “Unacceptable,” Otokar said emphatically.

  “All right.” Mason folded his hands on the table in front of him and continued, “The Obikee Tribe needs more than standard credits out of this transaction or I wouldn’t be here. Are you willing to make a counteroffer?”

  “Actually, I am.” The sly gleam in Otokar’s eyes made Kenton scoot to the edge of his chair. “Peylla may purchase weapons with the credits he earns from the wrestilian ore. It’s a hazy distinction, I know, but important. Troops are out of the question. However, I might be willing to participate in an exchange program.”

  “What sort of exchange program?” Peylla asked.

  “I will provide you with trainers for your warriors if you guarantee me access to the Pleasure Guild.”

  Kenton’s gaze snapped back to Peylla. The Pleasure Guild operated independently from the tribes. Peylla didn’t have the authority to make this concession. Kenton raised his hand to the control console, ready to warn Mason if Peylla accepted the offer.

  “If you want pleasure servants, I can --”

  “I don’t want pleasure servants. I want guild certified trainers and the right to bid at the annual Vontralirian auction.”

  Peylla contained his reaction to a minor widening of his eyes. “Very few of the Vontralirian have ever been awarded to offworlders. The Guild is extremely selective.”

  “Which likely explains their success.” Smug pleasure curved Otokar’s lips. Apparently, his interest in wrestilian ore had been a ploy. “Let’s be frank. There are only so many ways to fuck, but somehow your Pleasure Guild has created a mystique surrounding these Vontralirians. Everyone wants one.”

  “I… Did you already petition the Guild directly?” Peylla was doing a remarkable job of maintaining his composure.

  “Of course I did. They’re arrogant, secretive, and utterly unreasonable. That’s why you’re going to act on my behalf.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I don’t need to understand. You claim to want Palonti united under your control. Well, start with the Pleasure Guild.” Otokar pushed back his chair and stood. “If you need some firepower to blast some sense into the Guild masters just let me know. If not, we’ll meet again once you’ve kicked in their door.”

  * * *

  Mason sat alone in the conference room, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The Palontian delegation had stormed out shortly after the Sabrotine officials made their dramatic exit. Mason should have seen this coming. Otokar was always wily. Still, this was the first time he’d completely misrepresented his interests. Tapping the surface of his audiocom, Mason activated t
he tiny device nestled in his ear.

  “Did you catch all of that?” he asked Kenton.

  “Come to your office and I’ll explain what Peylla is up against.”

  “I’m on my way.” Another tap set the audiocom on standby. Mason pushed back his chair and stood. After rolling his shoulders and unfastening the neck closure on his form-fitting jacket, he made his way to his office.

  “How much do you know about the Pleasure Guild?” Kenton asked as the door closed behind Mason.

  “As much as any offworlder is allowed to know.” Heaving a frustrated sigh, Mason moved behind his desk and sat down. Kenton pivoted to face him as they spoke. “Tell me what’s not in the archives.”

  “To my knowledge, laws prohibiting pleasure givers and sexual companions have never existed on Palonti. However, many of the people who chose these professions were either unsavory or victimized until the formation of the Pleasure Guild about a hundred and fifty years ago. The Guild created a strict and detailed charter governing the behavior of its members as well as its customers.”

  “Did the tribal leaders encourage the pleasure givers to organize or was it the pleasure givers themselves who banded together?”

  “The pleasure givers formed the Guild and one of the fundamental principles of the charter is that they operate separately from the tribes.”

  “Then there’s no way Peylla can meet Otokar’s terms.”

  Kenton nodded and stood up. “Even if his tribe is victorious, they will have no power over the Pleasure Guild.”

  “What exactly is a Vontralirian? I know they’re highly skilled pleasure givers, but what makes them unique?”

  “After the Guild ensured casual pleasure givers had what they needed to succeed, they turned their aspirations toward creating the perfect sexual companion.” Kenton meandered around the office as he explained. His stride was smooth and leisurely, his posture straight, yet comfortable. “Guild scouts select the most physically perfect children each year and bring them to the academy. Their families are compensated for --”

  “What about the children? They’re taken from their families and forced into a lifestyle they might not have chosen for themselves.”

  Kenton’s chin rose and an unnamed emotion erupted in his eyes. He managed to maintain control of his expression, but Mason had obviously struck a nerve.

  “It’s an honor to be chosen. Acceptance as a Vontralirian guarantees comfort and security not only for the participant, but for their family.”

  Mason thought again of Kenton’s unusual scars. Was he defending his past, not just his planet’s customs? “Please continue. I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

  Accepting the pseudo-apology with a stiff nod, Kenton went on, “During puberty each novice is given treatments that help increase their natural potential.”

  “What sort of treatments?”

  “I don’t understand the specifics. I know the injections make subtle changes to their DNA. They become more attractive, more sensual, and more desirable. It also increases their sex drive and heightens their ability to feel pleasure.”

  “So much of that is subjective.” Mason tried to focus on the facts and keep his emotions distanced, but the image of a frightened child being torn from his parent’s arms was lodge within his mind. “Not everyone finds the same thing attractive or desirable.”

  “Each Vontralirian is commissioned before this process begins. Their treatments and training are customized to meet the needs of their master.”

  Every detail Kenton revealed made Mason more uncomfortable. “What happens to a Vontralirian if they despise their master? Do they have any recourse if they’re abused?”

  “The Guild is meticulous when making these matches and the treatments ensure that both parties find pleasure in the union.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. What recourse does a Vontralirian have if their master becomes abusive?”

  “The charter protects a Vontralirian in such cases. They’re allowed to return to the institute and seek another master or become an instructor.”

  “Why didn’t you?” The question was out before Mason realized what he had said.

  “Why didn’t I what?” Kenton’s features remained expressionless, but Mason hadn’t missed the hitch in his voice.

  “Why didn’t you return to the institute when Chaya abused you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Mason didn’t argue. It was obvious Kenton wasn’t ready to share the truth. “I’ll meet you at home. I need to speak with the empress. Otokar’s deception requires my withdrawal from the negotiation. I don’t broker deals involving slaves.”

  Chapter Six

  Kenton swam across the pool with agitated strokes, his conversation with Mason replaying in his mind. How had Mason guessed the truth so easily? Or had the empress seen his scars in the surveillance files? His flesh would regenerate eventually, but the marks had been so deeply embedded the healing process might need to be repeated. He dove and twisted, kicking off the wall and launching himself in the opposite direction.

  As Otokar had said, the Guild masters were secretive and inflexible. If it weren’t for this ridiculous negotiation, Kenton would have been surprised if anyone on Tranocous Nine had heard of a Vontralirian.

  He lowered his feet to the bottom of the pool and broke the surface of the water. What difference did it make if Mason knew the truth? If they’d meant to turn him over to Palontian authorities, he’d be in custody.

  “Did you heat up the water for me?”

  Like sun-warmed honey Megan’s soft, husky voice washed over his senses. He turned around slowly, afraid he’d imagined the sound. She stood at the other end of the pool, a knee-length robe hanging open over a sleek swimsuit. Not trusting himself to speak, he trudged through the water and up the stairs beside her.

  “Let me explain what happened at --”

  He swept her against him and ended her sentence with his mouth. She stood stiff and resistant within his embrace, her teeth clenched against his kiss. “Open your mouth.”

  “Not until you let me explain.” She hurried through the words with her head turned to the side.

  Grabbing the back of her hair, he tilted her head and started again. His lips slid against hers, rubbing and caressing. He reached up under her robe and found the strap of her swimsuit, tugging it down along her arm.

  “Stop…”

  She gasped and he pushed his tongue between her lips, not caring if she bit him. He’d dreamed about this, longed for her, feared he’d never find her. She was not disappearing again until he’d seen what he’d only imagined and tasted every millimeter of her delectable body.

  His mouth became more aggressive, his tongue boldly thrusting. Gradually her lips softened and her tongue began to respond. He took off her robe and tossed it aside, their mouths never breaking contact. With two firm yanks, he pulled her suit down around her waist and trapped her arms against her sides.

  She felt even better than he remembered, her breasts heavy, yet firm. He cupped one and then the other, pausing to roll her nipples. Soon touching them wasn’t enough. He kissed his way down her neck.

  “Kenton,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this until we talk.”

  Catching her nipple between his teeth, he gave her a firm nip. “I don’t want to talk until we do this.” He suckled deeply, ravenous for her taste.

  “What about Mason?” The question brought his head up. She crossed her arms over her breasts and stared into his eyes.

  “Damn you!” He stepped back and raked his fingers through his hair.

  Megan quickly righted her swimsuit, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d expected Kenton to be angry. She hadn’t dreamed he’d still want her, at least not at first. His aggressive kiss left her wobbly-kneed and physically ready to pick up where they’d left off at Starlight Station. But she couldn’t, not until he understood her motivation and the true complexity of the situation.

  �
�Can we please talk?”

  “What do you want to talk about? The fact that you’re a ruthless cock tease or the fact that I’m fucking your brother?” He caught her around the waist and pulled her back against his chest. “I want you naked and moaning my name. You’re sure as hell not putting anything else on.”

  His angry words stabbed into her heart, compounded by the realization that she deserved them. Any semblance of detachment evaporated beneath the heat of his ire. Humiliation and guilt eroded her composure. She wanted to run back the way she’d come and have Tillany send him away.

  You already tried hiding, her inner voice chided. It doesn’t work. If you want him, fight for him. You’re not a coward.

  She settled back against him. His cock pressed against the small of her back and one of his hands cupped her breast. “I’m going to turn around. I want to look at you.”

  “Take off your suit. I want to look at you.”

  “If I get naked, we won’t have this conversation.”

  He chuckled, his warm breath stirring her hair. “That’s the idea.”

  His hold loosened and she turned to face him. Raising her hands to his chest, she maintained what little space she could between their heated bodies. “Sabina and I grew up together. Regardless of her tempestuous nature, she is my friend. She told me you’d teased her, that you’d led her on and --”

  “You believed her?” He cupped her breast again, his thumb easily finding her nipple through the sturdy fabric. “I wouldn’t be her fuck toy, so she sent you in to punish me?”

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but that was exactly what had happened. “I didn’t know she’d lied until I saw the surveillance vid.”

  Anger scrunched his forehead and narrowed his eyes. “How many people have seen those damn files? Mason said they were deleted.”