Exposed by Moonbeam

by Cynthia Sax

  The fixers discussed something amongst themselves, their voices high and fast. Elbows nudged stomach ridges. Bald heads bobbed. The biggest fixer passed a small jar to Fixer Vern.

  “Talker Storm Nazwisko,” he announced gravely, his face flushed with color. “We present you with a celebratory mating gift from the ship fixers.” He held out the jar.

  “Ummm…” Storm stood, smoothed the wrinkles from her baggy outfit, and accepted the gift. The jar was filled with a clear gel. “Thank you.”

  “It is lube,” Fixer Vern proclaimed proudly. The other fixers nodded, big smiles on their blue-and-green faces.

  “I see.” Storm’s cheeks heated. They gazed at her expectantly. She gazed back, not knowing what they wanted. “We’ll put it to good use,” she added.

  The fixers whispered. The large fixer slapped his flat ass and then humped the air. Heads turned toward her and tilted.

  “Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko is to use the lube when he fucks your ass,” Fixer Vern explained.

  Oh my God. Warrior Danielle is right. They’re certainly not shy. Storm’s face burned. “Thank you. I know what lube is used for.”

  “While Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko fucks your ass, we will watch from our sleeping chambers.” Fixer Vern frowned, his head dropped, his shoulders drooping. The other fixers appeared equally disappointed.

  “Of course.” Storm blinked, confused by their reaction. “Where else would you watch from?”

  The smiles returned. “Warrior Krol Nowak allowed us to watch in his sleeping chambers.” Fixer Vern’s gaze slid to Warrior Danielle. “We will not touch, even if you cause great damage to Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko’s spicka.”

  “Is that true, Warrior Danielle?” Storm gazed at her new friend, the prospect of a gang of alien males watching Ary fuck her unnerving and exciting and so damn hot. Her pussy moistened and her nipples tightened.

  “Yeah, it’s true. We let them watch.” Warrior Danielle shrugged. “You’ll be putting on a show for them anyway. Why not give them front row seats and make it a great show?”

  Why not? Storm’s fingers tightened on the jar of lube, her breathing quickening. “I have to ask my Ary first.”

  The fixers cheered.

  Chapter Five

  Ary stood in the center of the simulator chamber, his arms folded in front of him, his feet braced apart, facing the images of the other rulers, the Silans seated, their countenances forbidding. This summons had come one sleep cycle after Ary’s passionate declaration in the ship’s sustenance consumption chamber, the protest on Sila growing more violent.

  “It was the time interval for a ruler to be mated.” Ary raised his voice, allowing the less powerful, more progressive rulers seated in the back to clearly hear him. “We agreed to take this action.”

  The Ruler Elder lowered his forehead ridges, the aged male’s face dark-green. “We agreed this was the time interval based upon your recommendation, thinking you were a true ruler, which you are not. Silans would not protest against a true ruler.”

  The other rulers thumped their fists upon the armrests of their single-assed supports, muttering their agreement.

  Ary looked toward Ruler Przzyjacciel, a ruler with whom he’d shared schooling, expecting his support. Ruler Przzyjacciel dropped his gaze and stared silently at the communicator in his hands.

  Ary transferred his gaze to Ruler Odannny, a male he’d assisted during the untimely termination of the mountain ruler’s dam and sire, the tragic shuttle craft mishap resembling the accident terminating his own sire many solar cycles earlier. Ruler Odannny shook his head, his lips pressed together tightly.

  The enemy shows more honor than these Silans. Ary gritted his teeth, biting back the anger unsuitable for a ruler. “Our people protest the lack of mates. Removing me from council will not change this. Our people’s discontent will not ease until we have accelerated our plans, granting more Silans the right to mate.”

  “We have read your proposal.” The Ruler Elder tossed a tablet on the tiled floor of the council chambers. “You recommend we speak with the Earth governments, offering our protection in exchange for access to their females.” He clucked his tongue and his fellow rulers mimicked the action, the noise further irritating Ary. “You wish for us to negotiate with the primitives?”

  “Without those primitives, the lineage of our people will be terminated. Our enemy knows this and is taking action. A Mravenec warrior attempted to capture my mate. They will not stop with that one attempt.” Ary raised his chin proudly, his response no longer restricted by rigid ruler tradition. “The Earth and our Earth mates are in danger. We must protect that planet and protect our future.”

  “Now you believe you are a warrior.” The Ruler Elder glanced to his left and right. Rulers laughed, their facial ridges twisted with scorn.

  “I speak for warriors and fixers and talkers and other Silans on board this ship.” Ary stared unseeingly at the far wall, his face stoic, showing none of his rage. “If you remove me from council, they will assume no change is coming. They will take action.”

  “Are you threatening us?” The Ruler Elder stood, his aged body shaking. “You dare too much, Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko. We will not bow to your threats. Our decision stands. When you return to Sila, you will be removed from council.”

  Removal? Did they not hear a word I said? Ary opened his mouth.

  “Terminate transmission,” the Ruler Elder barked, cutting off his response.

  Their images dissolved and the chamber grew dark. Warrior Krol was correct. They do not listen, not even to other rulers. Ary glared at the blank space where the image of the Ruler Elder once stood, seeing a future filled with terminations and hardship, a future he didn’t wish for his people or offspring.

  I must prevent this war. Ary straightened the cuffs of his uniform, determination filling his soul. I must protect my people.

  “Return chamber status to public,” Ary instructed the ship’s guidance system as he stalked through the sliding doors, wanting and needing to see his mate, valuing her advice and her knowledge of people, human and Silan.

  He stopped short, his boots squeaking on the metallic mesh floor, and he blinked, unable to believe his eyes. His Storm leaned against the wall, her baggy talker uniform swamping her small form and the lights igniting the fire in her out-of-control curls. Silan males surrounded her, gaping at her with ill-concealed admiration and wonder.

  His Storm met his gaze, her exotic green eyes flashing with emotion. “My Ary.” The males scattered, murmuring excuses. “I thought you might need me.”

  She thought of me. A heat spread through Ary’s chest. “I do.” He held out one of his hands, his palm facing upward.

  She bounced toward him, her footsteps light and reassuringly fast. Her palm slid into his, small and smooth, and a surge of revitalizing energy shot up Ary’s arm, restoring his battered confidence.

  “I’m here.” His Storm leaned into him, brushing her curves along his ridges, and his spicka hardened, vibrating with awareness, her womanly musk wrapping around his senses. “And we’ll deal with this together, you and I.” She caressed his cheek, her fingertips blazing a trail of sensation across his skin.

  “You do not know what we have to deal with.” He nipped at her fingers.

  She yanked her hand away and laughed. “Oh, I do. I can read it in your eyes.”

  She can read my emotions? Ary froze, alarmed.

  “Don’t worry.” She laughed again, the sound floating in the air. “I can read your emotions, but I doubt anyone else studies you so closely.” Ary frowned, uncertain about that. “It is a mate thing,” she added.

  A mate thing. He relaxed. “Rulers do not show emotion.”

  “That’s too bad.” His Storm dropped her hand and curled her fingers in his. “Because emotion can be a powerful weapon.” She pulled him toward their sleeping chambers. “If Silans thought you cared about them—”

  “Our people must know I serve them.” Ary frowned. If m
y Storm doubts that, what do my people believe?

  “Talker Storm Nazwisko.” A large warrior passed them in the corridor. “Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko.” He bowed his black-and-green head.

  “Warrior Miar Najazd,” Ary replied automatically. He slammed into his stopped Storm and she flew forward. He wrapped his arm around his little female, catching her before she fell. “I did not notice you had ceased movement,” he apologized.

  She glanced up at him and then over his shoulder at the retreating warrior, her forehead furrowed with lines. “Did you, a ruler, just greet a warrior? Isn’t that breaking one of your laws or something?”

  “I am not a ruler when I am with you. I am a mate.” Ary pulled her snugly against him, pressing his spicka into her ass, wanting to forget the possible war and lose himself in her body.

  “Hmmm…” Her lips curled upward into a smile. “Then you need me for mate things.” She wiggled her ass into his groin, the brush of her curves causing his worries to evaporate. “The fixers gave us a present.” She pulled a small clear container out of the pocket of her uniform. “Lube.”

  “Lube.” He took the container from her, examining it. “It is used for the fucking of a mate’s ass.” He stiffened, his arousal escalating. “Do you wish for me to fuck your ass?”

  “Got that on the first guess, did you?” She laughed. “I love your intelligence, my Ary.” She sauntered down the corridor, her hips swaying seductively. “That big brain of yours is the hottest thing about you.”

  Love, Ary repeated silently as he followed her. Use of that word signals advanced pair bonding in humans. He watched his mate move and his fingers curled around the container of lube.

  “Oh, I forgot.” His Storm glanced over her shoulder, her eyelashes fluttering. “The fixers want to be in our sleeping chambers while you fuck me in the ass…if that’s okay with you? We’ll give them a show.” She unfastened her uniform, and the purple fabric slipped over one of her pale shoulders. Ary’s mouth dropped open, the urge to fuck her right then and there battering his control.

  “I’ll narrate our glorious fuckfest, as I’m the talker.” His Storm tossed her head, her curls bouncing against her skin. “I’ll let them know how hard you’re pounding that big cock into my ass, and I’ll scream your name over and over as I come.”

  She flounced around the corner. A large crowd of fixers hovered by the doors to their sleeping chambers. As she approached them, the males quieted, their eyes swirling blue with lust.

  They lust for my mate. Ary straightened to his full height, and the fixers’ gazes lifted, the smallest fixer swallowing hard, his neck ridge bobbing.

  “Hi, boys.” His Storm ran her palms over her ass and smiled flirtatiously. The musk of her arousal hung heavy in the air, tormenting Ary. The fixers bumped into each other, battling to be closest to her. “You’d better behave yourselves. My Ary hasn’t agreed to let you watch yet.”

  The fixers turned their heads and gazed at him expectantly. Ary gripped the container of lube, their gift to him, the first and only present he’d received from a non-ruler. “You will not touch my Storm.”

  “We will not touch your mate,” Fixer Vern vowed, his tone gravely sincere. The other fixers nodded their heads and beamed, their happiness dousing Ary’s lingering concerns.

  “Then it’s showtime.” His Storm strode through the sliding doors. Her uniform dropped to her waist and hung around her hips, her back white and smooth, begging to be touched. She turned to face them, her arms crossed over her chest, her palms cupping her full breasts.

  Sladky matka. She makes me crazed. Ary yanked at his ruler uniform, shredding the fabric until he wore nothing but his boots, his spicka freed and erect, gyrating vigorously, jutting out toward her.

  Her gaze lowered. “So big and hard and vibrating.” She licked her lips, her tongue small and pink and delectable between her blunt white teeth. “I want to lick your cock all over from your broad tip to your hairless base. Then I’ll suck on your balls, taking them into my mouth one at a time.”

  The fixers crowding around him groaned. Pressure grew in Ary’s varles. “Your sex talk makes me wish to spill my seed,” he confessed, shamed by his lack of control.

  “Oh no.” She released one of her wondrous breasts and waved a long slender finger back and forth, back and forth. “You’re spilling your seed all over my ass, covering me with your scent.”

  “First, I will cover your breast with my mouth.” He lunged forward and toppled her back into the sleeping support, trapping her body beneath his. She squeaked and he silenced her with his lips, filling her with his tongue, devouring her unspoken words. The container of lube rolled on the covering blanket.

  Ary stroked into her mouth, mimicking the fucking motion, giving her a taste of what would come. She moaned and arched toward him, her hands gripping his shoulder ridges, her breasts molded to his chest, her enthusiasm feeding his.

  Ary dragged his lips over her chin. “You narrate our glorious fuckfest.” He grinned against her skin as she gazed at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. She wants me. Her need soothed his people’s rejection and the rulers’ betrayal. In her arms, he was a male without equal. “Rulers honor the statuses of others, allowing them to use their gifts,” he teased.

  His Storm smiled, her plush lips glistening and her pale eyes smoldering with erotic promise. “Oh, I’ll narrate, all right. Your buddies aren’t going to miss a minute of the action.” He licked the salt off her neck. “That’s it. Lave me with that big green tongue of yours, hot and moist and sexy.”

  Ary traced her jugular vein, following her lifeblood as it pumped under her skin, and he nibbled along her collarbone, the fragile bone offering no protection.

  “That feels good,” she crooned, sliding her hands along his skull, pleasure radiating from her fingertips. “Cover me with your love marks. Show the other Silans whom I belong to.”

  “My mate.” Ary nipped her hard, branding her skin, and she cried out, the scent of her arousal tickling his nostrils, reassuring him. He moved down her body and swirled the flat of his tongue around her right breast, honoring her delightful curves.

  “Suck my breast.” His Storm held him to her as he teased her with his tongue. “No, suck,” she demanded. Ary chuckled, amused by her impatience, and he licked in smaller and smaller circles, covering every bit of her skin.

  “Damn it. I need your mouth on my nipple now,” she yelled. He flicked her nipple, punishing his mate for her loud response. She cried out, flinging her torso upward and smacking her breast against his face. “My Ary!”

  “My Storm.” Ary sucked her nipple into his mouth, her flesh surprisingly rigid, yet soft, the duality intriguing him, her body as complex as her mind.

  “Yes.” She filled the chamber with love noises and stroked his skull with her soft fingers, her touch encouraging him, testing him, pushing him closer to his own climax. “Suck me. So good.”

  He moved slightly to the side, allowing the fixers to see his Storm’s left breast. Ary cupped that curve with his right hand, lifting and squeezing, showing the watching males the beauty of his mate as he feasted on her right breast, licking and sucking her skin.

  “Both breasts.” His Storm breathed heavily, her words ragged. “You’re working both breasts and everything inside of me is tightening. I’m about to come. My Ary, make me come. I need to come.”

  I will give her all that she needs. Ary laid his arm across her shoulders, pinning her to the sleeping support, and he gently scraped his teeth across her nipple. His Storm screamed, writhing under him, straining upward with her hips, pouring her scent into the chamber.

  Ary raised his head. “My Storm came,” he announced smugly as his little mate stilled. The fixers cheered, their boisterous reaction increasing Ary’s pride. “She is wet. Do you wish to observe?”

  “Yes, we wish to observe,” Fixer Vern spoke for the group. The males shuffled closer. “Show us, Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko.”

  “My Ary?” Doubt
flickered in his Storm’s eyes.

  “They will not touch,” Ary assured her. He tugged her talker uniform away from her body, revealing her private curls, and he spread her legs wide on the sleeping support, her pink pussy glistening with juices. “Observe.”

  Ary stood back and watched the males closely as they bent over his mate, perusing her pussy, their spickas erect and vibrating against their blue fixer uniforms.

  “Oh God. This is so hot.” His Storm speared her fingers through her curls and parted her womanly folds, showing them her tight entrance. “All of these men looking at me, wanting me, their cocks hard. They want to take turns fucking me.”

  “They will not fuck you,” Ary rumbled, his voice low and his hands clenched into fists, the thought of any male touching his mate infuriating him.

  The fixers backed away from the sleeping support, their gazes on his hands. “We will not touch Talker Storm Nazwisko,” Fixer Vern assured Ary. “Even if she causes great damage to your spicka.”

  “How can I do damage to that beast?” His Storm gestured toward his spicka, her fingertips wet with her juices. Ary licked his lips, yearning to suck on her fingers and taste her satisfaction.

  “Your cock is the size of a dynamic microphone.” Her voice softened with awe. “Even if I bit you, your shaft would survive.”

  If she bites me… Ary squeezed the base of his spicka, the pinch of his fingers supplementing his battered control.

  His Storm narrowed her eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A wicked smile spread across her beautiful face. “You want me to take you in my mouth.” She parted her lips, displaying her blunt white teeth. “And slowly chomp down on your cock with my teeth.” She snapped her teeth together.

  Ary groaned, his varles knotting tightly under his spicka. “Turn over, my Storm, so I may fuck your ass.”

  “You’re suffering that badly, huh?” She laughed, mocking his lack of restraint. “Don’t fuck me without lube.” His Storm located the container. “Slather it on your cock first. I want that monster slippery and shiny.” She tossed the lube at him.