by J. J. Lore
At this point, she could probably rock her hips against his fingers and find a climax. Realizing she wanted one, wanted one with the two of them as witnesses, made her skin flush hot and cold.
“Tell me, Bynton.” She had no idea what sort of touches an Alphan preferred.
“Just steady, up and down, there’s a spot under the corona.” His hand met hers and pressed her thumb to a small dent under his thickened head. “That’s very important. Oh, Avanelle.”
He gasped her name as she moved her hand along his cock, allowing her fingers to bump along as she rotated and stroked. His breath caught, and he threw his head back. Mateen’s fingers slid against her, near her clit but not close enough. She braced herself on her knees and used her free hand to catch his fingers, frame two along each side of her agonized bundle of nerves. A small part of her brain was amazed she had the courage to instruct such a huge, strong male. “Steady, up and down—”
“And that’s your important spot.” Mateen finished for her as he made good on her instructions. She couldn’t hold back her soft cries as he touched her and had to force herself to concentrate on Bynton as he strained against the bed under her touch. Within a few more seconds he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand up and down forcefully, growling out a rumbling cry as his cock jumped and shivered. Whitish streams of cum pulsed from him, spattering on his belly as he roared, his eyes closing.
Avanelle could barely register his release before Mateen’s steady strokes captured her whole attention. She let go of Bynton’s throbbing cock and braced her hands against the bed as she lifted her hips and spread her legs, desperate for him to have full access. His free arm caught her under her breasts and pulled her up and against him as he kept up the quick rhythm of pleasure, squeezing her clit between his knuckles with every stroke. A spike of bliss caught her unexpectedly, and she writhed in his grip, crying out as her pussy clenched. A wave of shocking ecstasy vibrated through her limbs, and she fell back against Mateen, heedless of how he held her. With a few shaky breaths she rested in his arms, everything in her warm and soft with waves of delight.
She opened her eyes, realizing she’d pleasured, been pleasured by, these alien men. They hadn’t even kissed, and she’d come. Did Alphans kiss? She glanced down to see Mateen’s golden arms crisscrossing her body, her legs spread wide as her muscles trembled. Bynton still sprawled in front of her, his eyes avidly inspecting her. The man behind her breathed hard, and she noticed his cock had slipped between her thighs, lying against the wet and still shivering folds of her pussy. What now?
****
So tender. That was the only thought Mateen could formulate, other than he shouldn’t move or else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from penetrating Avanelle, piercing her with his tesak, and that was certainly not acceptable. Yet. She reclined in his embrace, her skin damp and warm from her release, and he breathed deep her scent, so rich with her arousal. His aching staff rested against her, so close to where it belonged. The sensation of the hot, wet flesh of her quonum against his straining staff was riveting.
Just being that close to her climax, proximate to Bynton’s, made him believe in the tales, the ones that proclaimed a warrior’s soul was strengthened when he’d claimed his mate. His bond with Bynton, close as it was, certainly made them both better fighters, stronger, faster, more intuitive, but this episode with Avanelle between them was on a different level. Even though he hadn’t achieved an orgasm, he still felt an odd sensitivity in his consciousness, like he could almost hear a sound just out of reach.
She stirred and twisted her head to give him a glance from the corner of her eye. With a little circle of her hips she moved her heated flesh against his, the wet slip of her a torment. “Mateen, don’t you want me?”
He was unprepared for the lust that rocketed through him, on top of what he’d already thought was his limit of arousal. His staff throbbed, his culls tightened even more, and he couldn’t stop the growl from leaving his throat. Of course he wanted her, but it wasn’t time.
“Not that way, not yet,” he ground out, hoping she wouldn’t ask for an explanation, not when this prelude to bonding was proceeding so well. Alphan men and women knew the steps to take, the limits and levels of intimacy required for a successful coupling. Avanelle had no idea of what she might unleash if he gave in to the biological urge to penetrate her now.
“But you’re ready. It’s not fair to you.”
Her simple plea for reciprocity, her generous spirit, moved him, and he closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. When he opened them, he looked at Bynton as he lay before them, the evidence of his passion drying on his belly. His bondmate’s expression was one of supreme satisfaction, and certainty glowed in his eyes. The younger man been correct all along during their search, narrowing down what camp to approach, sure of the woman they’d found there. He gave voice to Mateen’s desire.
“Touch him, Avanelle, as you touched me.”
She glanced back at him, her dark hair sliding against his chest, over his arm, as she cupped her hand between her legs, pressing his staff against her quonum, enveloping it in her warmth even as her fingers traced along its sensitive underside, her fingertips pressing in below his corona, just as she had with Byn’s. Within a few strokes he was straining, everything in him gathering tension as her body heated, became even wetter in response to his. His peripheral vision dimmed as he grew harder than he ever had. His palate ached, his tesak ready to emerge and taste her. All he could see was Avanelle’s smooth cheek and the lashes of her half closed eye, and Bynton watching them strain against each other, his expression a reflection of the fierce joy filling him.
As his breathing hitched and his muscles tightened in the familiar way preceding climax, she somehow sensed his imminent release, increasing the tempo of her strokes and twisting her head back to press her mouth to his jaw as he arched against her, his entire body tensing and releasing as he came. Burning pleasure pulsed through his body, and he roared out his triumph. They’d found her, but she was claiming them as surely as gravity kept them to the ground.
Chapter Four
Bynton woke with a stretch, his mind immediately registering his surroundings and taking stock. He sensed Mateen sleeping nearby, his deep breathing as familiar as Bynton’s own. But where was Avanelle? She’d been there during the sleep cycle, for he remembered touching her soft body each time he’d eased from deep sleep into a half-doze. Today they might be able to reach their first stage of bonding with her, if she was willing and not too sore from the day before. Just thinking about entering her body, feeling that connection with her and his bondmate at the same time made his staff harden and reach out. Where was she? He twisted up and looked over the bed. The hollow between him and Mateen was empty.
A quick glance around the dim room didn’t reveal her beauty. With a mutter, he rose and checked the hygiene alcove to find it empty as well. Striding into the living area of the ship, he found nothing, no trace of the woman who owned him. With a quick inquiry of the ship’s monitoring system, he discovered there was no evidence of a living entity on board other than himself and Mateen. She was gone.
Uttering an agonized shout, he roused his bondmate, and Mateen leaped from the bedroom, instantly alert.
“She’s gone.”
“Intruders?” Mateen barked for data from the ship’s system, which immediately reported back there had been no breach of security, only an exit from the ship approximately sixty minutes ago. The visual showed a slim form, clad only in the soft garments they’d given her, walking away from the ship slowly as she picked her way over the rock and mud.
“Why would she leave? She has no proper footgear or coat.” Bynton’s heart was racing as he contemplated how cold and footsore Avanelle must be wherever she’d gone.
“Did we hurt her?” Mateen’s brow furrowed even as he began to don his outerwear, collected from a storage bin. Bynton followed suit, already constructing a search grid in his mind.
“I
don’t think so. We just touched her. My tesak did not descend.” Bynton had felt them bud when his crisis approached, but had clenched his jaw to hold them in, mindful of her fear.
“Mine nearly did, but I kept them concealed. I licked her afterwards, just before she slept. Perhaps she disliked it and was afraid to say so.” Mateen’s expression shifted from dismayed to pensive.
“My understanding is humans prefer to kiss with the mouth. Would she leave because we didn’t kiss her?” Bynton fastened his trousers and pulled on socks. His armor was already stacked next to him thanks to his bondmate’s quick action.
“I’ll kiss her wherever she likes, however she wants me to, once we find her,” Mateen growled as he strapped on his weapons harness, his hands automatically checking over his blades and lash.
Bynton told himself to calm down as he did the same inspection of his gear. There weren’t many hazards in the area, other than those of the human variety at the camp a few kilometers away. He didn’t know what force had compelled her to leave, and he was determined to defeat it to bring her back. A strange pain built in his gut as images of Avanelle flashed disconcertingly through his mind. Her wide eyes dark with pleasure, the careful way she ate her food, the intoxicating beauty of her body.
“Byn, look.” Mateen leaned down and retrieved one of their image recorders from the deck. She must have dropped it there, for it had been on the table before. It was something they’d planned on sharing with Avanelle this day, a record of images from his and Mateen’s life together. Their home, some attractive scenes of Alpha, all to ease her into the idea of leaving Earth with them and never looking back. It was activated and glowed with several views. With a tap of his finger against the top, it projected the last few images.
The first was one of Mateen in full battle gear, battered and triumphant after their most recent engagement on Talus. He was covered with dust and Xyran blood, his eyes dark with victory, his teeth bared in rage. The previous picture showed both of them, each holding a severed Xyran head aloft, the purplish blood of their enemies coating their bare arms. That had been after the skirmish on the hidden moon of Dero, a quick and rough exchange in which they each destroyed a score or more of the repellant enemy. Could it be she saw these particular vids and was frightened of the sight they made when the fury of battle was upon them? Her worry about them wanting to harm her, eat her, no matter how ridiculous it had seemed to them, had to be alive in her now, to have driven her away.
“She won’t want us now, Byn.” The ache in Mateen’s voice matched the one in Byn’s heart.
“I’m not giving up that easily. We’ll find her and explain.”
“She’s too kind. She’ll never understand what we do or why we have to do it. We are too alien to her.”
Byn stared at his bondmate as he reached for the hatch. “I need to try, Mat. Do you not?”
He waited an impossible second, the grief at losing Avanelle building as he waited for his bondmate to join him in this quest. If Mateen declined, Byn didn’t know what he’d do. He’d never come close to wanting to flout Mat’s decisions ever since they’d pledged themselves five years ago. The need for Avanelle was so strong, pulled at him so deeply, he worried he might strike out on his own.
“We go. What if she refuses?” Mateen’s question was a challenge to their agreed-upon approach. Before, when they’d planned this journey, it had been easy to say they wouldn’t impose themselves upon a woman, easy to say they’d search and find another if one was unwilling. But that was before he’d lost himself in Avanelle. She wasn’t interchangeable; she was irreplaceable.
“I can’t leave her here.”
“Then we won’t.” His bondmate held his gaze a moment longer, cementing their commitment to take what was theirs. They were civilized, disciplined, but some impulses went to the primal heart of a man. “There won’t be another woman for me.”
“Nor for me.” Bynton opened the hatch to a driving, cold rain. Slender Avanelle, out in this weather. Her core body temperature would be dropping to unhealthy levels by now. They had to hurry. Mateen dropped past the steps and ran to the hover, starting it just as Byn reached the mount and pulled himself up.
“We’ll find her.”
****
The thick socks she’d found back at the Alphan ship were sodden and cold around her feet, but they’d protected her from the worst of the sharp rocks as she’d made her way back to the camp. The gate was open for deliveries that never came, and she slipped in amongst the inhabitants just as the rain began. Ducking into one of the community modules, she edged close to a heater and waited for her body to warm even as her mind dulled.
She didn’t want to think about what she’d done. Seeing the pictures of Mateen and Bynton spattered with gore, their features transformed into the demons she’s thought them to be, had shattered whatever fragile trust she’d placed in them. She’d emerged from the warmth and comfort of their bed because it was her usual time to wake, and not wanting to disturb them, had crept out to the living area to think about what she was going to do. She knew they wanted to take her away with them. Every gesture, every conversation was leading to that declaration. As she’d sat in the dim room, much of her was inclined to say yes to them, agree to this bond they so desired with her. What was holding her to Earth? She’d been discarded and thrown away by her society. There was no opportunity for her to rise above a sad life of scavenging and picking up whatever labor jobs she might find. But to travel past the stars to a world she knew nothing about with two men who spoke of forging bonds so easily wasn’t a commitment she could undertake lightly.
She’d noticed the glowing cube and picked it up quite innocently, attracted to the image of a pale stone house with wide windows. Theirs, most likely. The images had changed as she handled the cube, each picture enticing and impressing her, until those awful few appeared. The ferocity and gruesomeness had hit her like a hammer, and she’d fumbled it with suddenly numb fingers, fear icing through her. Better to flee while they were asleep than risk declining them when they were awake was her only thought after that.
Fear had driven her into the night and followed her with every step away from their ship. Now she’d live with fear of a different kind, fear of a slow death to stalk her rather than some violent end on a faraway planet.
As her feet and hands warmed slightly, she wondered if she’d missed her opportunity for that day’s meal, worried her small bundle of belongings had been stolen while she’d been gone. Perhaps in a few days, once the drudgery of life returned, she’d be able to forget her interlude with the Alphans. Forget how treasured she’d felt for a few hours, appreciated in a way she’d never had before, before she saw what they were capable of.
A woman she knew well enough to nod to passed by and advised her that rations were going to be distributed soon. With a sigh, Avanelle rose and made her way back outside. She was still wet, so more rain wouldn’t matter. Getting a packet of protein did. People gathered around the kiosk as one of the camp administrators keyed in the security code. Just as the panels slid down, there was a popping sound and then many high pitched screams from the distance.
A press of people fleeing from the sound of violence jostled her, and she wondered where she could hide. Before she could decide which direction to flee, several men fell in front of her, their bodies splashing in the mud as they twitched, huge bleeding holes in their backs. She looked up to find a true devil staring at her, green skin, scaly mouth open in a sick grin. It was over two meters tall, clad in shiny silvery leggings, its broad chest decorated with faceted studs burrowed into the skin. She recognized it as one of the creatures in Mateen and Bynton’s images, only this one was horribly alive.
Avanelle couldn’t breathe, sure she’d be cut in half by the huge curved sword the thing had raised. Instead it hissed at her and threw its hand in the air, a gobbet of some sort of ink smacking into her chest. It gestured for her to move aside, towards a huddle of women and children. She did, stumbling ov
er one of the now still men. The green demon nodded once and then whipped its head in another direction, quickly firing a bolt of energy from the end of the blade and cutting down more running men.
Hide. Hiding was the only option. She crouched and ran as fast as her cold and cramped legs could take her, skirting the cluster of weeping women and children, toward the edge of the camp where the garbage had begun to pile up as soon as everyone had arrived. There would surely be a shelter there.
****
Mateen smelled battle before the hover’s sensors alerted them to weapons fire at the camp as they approached. They’d been following Avanelle’s trail as rapidly as they could before the rain washed away all heat traces of her footfalls, but the distant cracking sound of laser bolts was unmistakable. Bynton, who’d been rigid with tension the whole journey, jolted as he, too, recognized the echo.
“Who would be attacking the camp?”
Mateen adjusted the scanner’s range, and his blood heated when he read the results. “Xyran phase signatures. Must be raiders, the treaty holds them at bay.”
“Unless war has broken out while we were distracted yesterday.” Bynton growled as he unsheathed his lash and brought the hover cannon to bear on the settlement as it hove into view.
Faint pulses of laser light sparked from the huddled buildings, and he fancied he could hear the screams of the dying. Avanelle was there. She’d fled them only to find no sanctuary but a worse threat than any she could have imagined from them.
Mateen glanced over the readings. There were so many humans milling about that the readings for them were indistinct, but the Xyran raiders were easily found. Seven, with two waiting at the nearby ship. Heat signatures showed many cooling bodies, and for a despairing moment, Mateen wondered if one of the pale silhouettes of the dead was Avanelle’s. No. She was alive. He knew it. She was a desirable young female, worth too much to Xyran slavers to kill.
