Erybet grinned as he watched her puzzle over the strange object. “Ready for some new experiences, Ray-Ray?” he asked.
With her energy restored, Rachel was more than ready. She motioned with both hands.
Bring it on.
Erybet seized her thighs, drawing her pussy and ass up to his groin. He entered her carefully, mindful she hadn’t had anything in her tighter orifice for a few hours. Still, he was slick with lubricant and she accepted him with ease. He was soon completely embedded in her.
The nubby surface of his double cock ring sent shivers of delight up her spine. Like the cushion she lay on, the thing was firm yet pliable too. It was a most fascinating sensation. Her still engorged clit fit just inside that little pocket area at the top. Well that was interesting.
Erybet’s eyes narrowed as he looked down on her. “Satacri. Misfot.”
The rings began to vibrate, massaging all the flesh surrounding her vagina and anus. That in itself would have been enough to galvanize her senses, but the little pocket holding her clit…
Rachel arched as a shout poured from her lungs. The sleeve was flexible and it molded around her clit, moving gently back and forth with gentle but direct pressure. It vibrated too, the pulses making her wild with rapture.
“My gift to you,” Erybet said, his eyes full of deviltry. “I’m glad you like it.”
His hips drew away from hers, pulling the cockring away from her delighted flesh. The clit mold-thingy gave up her nubbin reluctantly, pulling it until she was released from its sweetly tormenting grip. Rachel heaved in a breath. Damn, that thing was—
She didn’t get to finish the thought. Erybet pressed deep into her. Tiny vibrations pulsed against her flesh and the clit mold sucked her into its delightful clutch once more. It throbbed with delicate insistence.
Erybet fucked her with slow, deliberate thrusts, making her feel every nuanced pulse of the cockring’s vibrations. Rachel quaked beneath him, her body tumultuous with reaction.
Perspiration sheened her body. Her moans were continuous, heightening to wild cries every time the clit mold laid hold of her sensitive button.
“Lovely,” Erybet grunted. “I like seeing you writhe beneath me.”
His belly undulated, as sinuous as a snake as he plunged in and out of her. Had she not been so crazed by pleasure, Rachel would have appreciated the graceful dance of the muscles in his abdomen. The Dramok’s beauty was supplanted by the gorgeous sensations racing through her lower body however.
“I think you are ready for more,” he said. “Cemed.”
The cockring’s vibrations increased. The clit mold’s pulling became more insistent.
Pleasure bellowed through Rachel’s belly and she bellowed back. She reached desperately to push Erybet off her before she shattered.
He laughed and pulled her legs up so they draped over his shoulders. Rachel was forced to throw her hands back to brace against the floor. A part of her knew the Dramok wouldn’t let her fall, but instinct took over as her balance was knocked off kilter.
His groin pounded against her in quick, hard strokes. The clit mold had hold of her more often than not now, and she felt her insides coiling tight. Oh Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses, when she came she’d blast into a million pieces. Rachel actually feared the power of the oncoming climax. She strained to keep it from happening, convinced it might kill her. Too powerful. Too much.
Erybet ground out another word between clenched teeth. “Fihul.”
Incredibly, the cockring pulsated faster than before. The clit mold drew hard on Rachel’s little pink pearl. She lost the battle as searing orgasm blew through, decimating her. Exquisite rapture seized with a strength that hurt.
After an eternity the first paroxysm abated, followed by convulsions of ebbing strength.
Little by little, Rachel became aware that Erybet had stilled and the cockring was silent.
“Amazing,” he said. “And well worth the hell I’m in right now.”
He pulled his still rigid cocks free of her. With a groan, he eased the double ring off his flesh. Then he moved Rachel so that the top of the cushion nestled in the hollow of her lower back. Erybet lay on top of her, slipping his cocks back into her warmth once more.
His mouth found hers. She opened for his stroking tongue, the rest of her body too loose-limbed in the wake of her orgasm to move. She felt fresh warmth nestle in her womb as Erybet plunged deep in her, rutting with almost desperate strength. When he groaned and his cock pulsed with release, she responded with small, blissful spasms.
Rachel sighed. Damn, these guys were good.
Erybet peppered her face with quick, happy kisses. She giggled at the adorable display of affection. At nearly seven feet tall, behemoth or not, her pretty boy was just too adorable when he was satisfied.
A thud next to her turned both their heads. Conyod smiled sweetly from a few inches away.
He lay on his side, propping his jaw against his hand. “Hi,” he said, every bit as cute as their Dramok despite his more rugged features.
“Retig.” She grinned. Her lady parts were a bit tired and she knew she would be sore in the morning, but this was her wedding – or clanning – night. The stim tab was still doing its work, keeping her alert. Good thing, because tonight was due some wild shenanigans, she believed.
She wouldn’t mind riding Kalquorian flesh until the sun came up.
“Do you need a pain inhibitor yet?” the Imdiko asked.
She shook her head and gave him a thumbs up. It was so sweet, so very Conyod of him to worry for her wellbeing when he no doubt was horny as hell.
“Our mate has stamina,” Erybet said, rising off her.
His cocks slid wetly from her, unleashing a flood of fluids. Rachel wrinkled her nose. A shower would definitely be in order soon, but it was kind of titillating to feel the evidence of Erybet and Sletran’s passion.
“Poor Imdiko,” Sletran said. He lay on his stomach on the sleeping mat, watching the three of them. “Waiting so long for a turn at our most delicious clanmate.”
Conyod’s smile deepened. “She’s worth waiting for. An entire eternity, but I’m happy it didn’t come to that.”
Rachel reached to caress his face. She was clanned to Conyod. Her first Kalquorian love.
She rolled onto her side to move close enough to kiss him. As their lips met, he shifted so that their fronts met. His arm circled round her, holding her tight.
“You smell like my clanmates. And you smell of sex and passion. It makes me feel feral.
Primitive with the urge to add my scent in a most bestial manner.”
His words made Rachel rub herself wantonly against him. She grabbed his cocks and stroked from base to tips. Conyod growled and rolled over on top of her, then lifted as if doing a pushup. With her hands still grasping him, he swung his hips back and forth, pumping his slick lengths into her fists. Rachel tightened her grip to make him groan. The veins in his cocks pulsed against her palms.
His usually gentle demeanor was dissolving in the purity of brutal need. Rachel’s hands worked him harder, faster, wanting to see the civilized Conyod fall into the animal she now saw lurking beneath the surface.
His entire body tensed, the muscles standing out. He wasn’t as streamlined as Erybet, not as bulky as Sletran. Conyod was the happy medium and perfect to her eyes. And that beastlike aspect that was taking over made him even more ideal. The flawless mix of gentleman and brute owned her heart and passion.
With a snarl, he grabbed her wrists. “Let go,” he grated, baring his fangs.
Rachel’s hands flew open like bird wings under that brutish stare. Conyod flipped her over on her stomach. His knees wedged her thighs apart. He maintained his hold on her wrists, gathering them in one strong hand and pinning them to the cushion’s surface.
His mouth latched on the back of her neck. She was surprised to feel his blunt teeth and not the fangs close over her nape. He had a good hold of her though, stopping the bite just shy of pain.
He growled with force, and she felt the vibration in her skull as well as traveling down her spine until it hit her tailbone. Her hips jerked upwards.
Conyod took the invitation. His hand guided his cocks to her, thrusting deep before Rachel quite realized he was there. She choked on an interrupted breath as twin iron filled her passages.
Her ass spread grudgingly for the larger cock. Shock more than the sudden ache made her yank her hips down in an instinctual effort to dislodge him. The Imdiko growled again and ground into her. There was no escape.
She mewled with the twist of helplessness and ardor. The big man was owning her, right here and now, his body beating mercilessly against hers, making her take him. Rachel kicked her feet as monstrous passion fed on her. Conyod didn’t let up for an instant, his flesh slapping meatily against hers as he took her hard and fast. His growls were continuous, sending wild shudders up and down her backbone. She thought her head might explode from the violent vibrations.
His hand squirmed beneath her hips, squirreling its way towards her pussy. Rachel gasped as he seized her clit, rubbing it hard. Her head strained back and mouth opened wide, but no sound left her straining jaw. She had no air with which to scream.
Climax crushed down on her. Its weight was heavier than that of the man pinning her down, a thunderous mass that rolled through her. Rachel’s entire body strained beneath that mighty force, her fingers flung into starfish, her legs stretching straight. Then it released her, leaving her limp as aftershocks poured through her.
Conyod was still pounding into her, his growls turned to grunts of effort. “Again,” he grated through his mouthful of her neck and rubbed her clit harder.
This time the orgasm was a bright, white-hot lightning strike, and Rachel did scream, her voice shattering loud. Conyod moaned, release his bite, jerked three more times and groaned.
The cock in Rachel’s rear pulsed.
After the spasms passed, the Imdiko rolled off Rachel, going down the cushion to land face up on the floor at Erybet’s feet. The Dramok sat on the edge of the sleeping mat next to the still supine Sletran. He studied his gasping clanmate who splayed like an accident victim.
“Sletran, when was the last time Conyod was allowed to top?”
The Nobek shot his leader a dark glare. “To top me?”
Erybet rolled his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at Rachel, who was still layered on the rounded top of the cushion catching her breath. “Just because the Imdiko is our gentler breed, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to dominate on occasion. His performance just now lets me know he’s not had the opportunity in a while. Conyod does not get that savage, usually.”
“Not with you two,” Conyod grouched. “I like keeping my hide, thanks.” He looked up at Rachel. “Did I hurt you, my love?”
She shook her head and grinned despite her entire body feeling like well-cooked spaghetti.
Forming her words in his language she said, “Like Conyod do that. Fuck good.”
Sletran and Erybet laughed. Conyod grinned back at her, then turned his head to scowl at their Nobek. “Your next assignment is to teach her nicer euphemisms, like ‘make love’.”
“But it sounds so raw and primal when she says ‘fuck’.”
Conyod glared. Sletran snorted and rolled his eyes. Giving the Imdiko a long-suffering look, he said, “Fine. I’ll teach her to call your cocks her double prongs of happiness while I’m at it.”
“Bastard.”
“Now who has bad language?”
“Doesn’t count when it’s not Kalquorian, you big shit elbows.”
That got them all laughing. Shaking his head, Erybet rose and went to Rachel. He picked her up and carried her to the sleeping mat, laying her down and spooning behind her. Still snickering, Sletran helped Conyod up so they could both join their Matara and Dramok. Rachel snuggled into Conyod’s chest, with Sletran curling behind the Imdiko.
She’d thought she would spend the entire night making love to her new clan, but the stim tab was apparently wearing off. Her body was utterly relaxed, and her eyes were heavy. Sleeping in the arms that surrounded her seemed just as delicious an option right now. So she let herself drift, warm and … and safe. Yes. She did feel safe with the three men.
My clan, was her last happy thought before falling asleep.
Chapter12
Perhaps an hour after he’d drifted off, Sletran’s eyes opened.
He felt the warmth of his Imdiko against his chest and belly, a sensation comforting for its familiarity. He’d almost begun taking it for granted when he’d been sent out to war, then the loss of it had been an ache. Being curled around Conyod once more had been the only thing completely right since coming home. Still, pain remained, torment that not even returning to his clanmate had erased.
The smell of lovemaking was heavy in the air. It coated Sletran’s body, as well as Conyod’s. And he could scent Erybet too.
And her.
Sletran sat up, taking care to not disturb the others. He stared at Rachel, her face still discernable to his sharp eyes despite one cheek being pressed into the shadow of Conyod’s chest.
She looked so sweet, so innocent in her sleep. As innocent as all the other women on New Bethlehem.
How he had wanted to help them! Those frightened, shrinking Earther Mataras, crying over their lost world and loved ones back on Earth. Cringing anytime he came near them. It was wrong for the lifebringers to suffer so, and it had been his shame to know that Kalquor, no matter how inadvertently, had been such an instrumental part of their pain.
I just wanted to help. To somehow make it better.
Then the insurgent attacks had started. No matter how much aid they’d offered, how many of the Earther children the Kalquorian peacemakers had fed and sheltered, how much medical assistance they’d offered, many of the Earthers had turned on them. Including the Mataras.
He thought back to that one terrible day, the sweating, trembling Matara that had approached, asking for food. Her whispered thanks as she went to the dining area. And then the explosion, the men screaming, the shattered bodies of the dead.
Sletran knew his work would never be finished as long as even one Earther Matara remained alive. He looked over the still-sleeping trio in his bed. How both Erybet and Conyod sandwiched Rachel between their bodies, their arms circling around her protectively, keeping her safe. For now, anyway.
Meanwhile there were others, women not sheltered by adoring Kalquorian men, women left vulnerable, easy to get to. Sletran’s eyes narrowed. His breath quickened. His lip wrinkled back, displaying his fangs.
In an instant, he was out of the bed and pulling on a formsuit. Silent as death, he left the room.
* * * *
Conyod woke. Rachel was burrowed against him, her warmth and smell a lovely reminder of how he was part of a full clan. His gaze flicked to Erybet’s face. The Dramok slept too, a gentle smile playing on his lips as if still basking in the earlier lovemaking.
However, the pressure Conyod was used to feeling at his back was missing. Taking his arm from around Rachel’s slight form, he reached back, groping for his Nobek. The sheets were still warm, and a slight indentation remained where Sletran had been when Conyod fell asleep. But his clanmate was gone.
Dread pulsed through Conyod’s heart. He rose from the sleeping mat, careful to not disturb Rachel and Erybet. Padding naked through the home, he searched every room and the balcony for Sletran. There was no sign of him anywhere.
The Imdiko went to the com in the greeting room and checked the bay where the clan kept their personal shuttles. Sletran’s was missing.
The Nobek was gone again, not cured in the least by having a Matara to keep him sane.
Conyod swore to himself. He prayed he hadn’t made a mistake bringing Rachel into the clan.
That wherever Sletran had gone, he was all right and wouldn’t leave her without her protector.
Fear gnawed at his guts as he wondered where his Nobek was.
* * * *<
br />
Breft got the call at home before the sun had finished clearing the horizon. He spared just enough time to kiss his Matara Amelia and the sleepily blinking twins before heading to the Earther Matara complex.
He found Raxstad, Lidon, and forensics already at work in the middle of the courtyard, which was the central area of the compound. Formsuited local police officers, identifiable by their gray shock and blade proof vests, held the curious Mataras back, far enough away so they wouldn’t see what was going on. Compound security officers also abounded, though the majority of them were conferring with Global Security officers.
Breft let the police scan his credentials and hurried past them once he’d received clearance.
He passed by the banks of flowerbeds, firepits from which the sweet aroma of lit scentwood wafted, bubbling pools, and massage beds. Had he not been so intent on the latest activity of the Beast of New Bethlehem, he would have been glad to see how well Kalquor was treating the Earther women. By the ancestors, they certainly deserved it after all they’d been through.
He joined Raxstad and Lidon. Before he could ask, Raxstad gave him a grimace. “The privacy scene shielding we brought isn’t operating. And the localized force had five other calls at the same time, so they didn’t bring one. I sent someone to headquarters to get a mechanism that works.”
“Good.” Breft blinked at the dozens of small, slender objects arranged in a round starburst pattern in the center of the black marble tiles flooring this part of the courtyard. At their center was another sheaf with the now too-familiar writing awaiting him to read.
For now, he was busy puzzling over the whitish-gray and brownish-gray objects making up the starburst design. After a moment he realized what he was looking at, and his heart slammed hard against the wall of his chest. His lips curled back.
“Fingers?”
Raxstad nodded grimly. “Nearly a hundred. Small, like those of Earther females. Analysis will have to confirm that, though.”
Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06] Page 26
