My hips rammed home, pressing against the back of my hand, driving my thumb into her with each thrust. She would have a small taste of what it would feel like with both of us taking her, fucking her, filling her up.
“I am not kind. I am jealous, possessive.” She came with a wail and I didn’t stop, just fucked her harder, sweat dripping down my brow, my balls drawing up, my orgasm building at the base of my spine. “Obsessed.”
“Tyran,” she wailed, her walls already milking my cock.
I didn’t relent, giving her exactly what she needed as she came again, harder, her pussy going into spasms around my shaft. I gritted my teeth, the feel of her tight heat around my cock my own personal heaven. And hell. There would be no escaping her. No denying her. She would own me.
Fuck. She already did.
Her pleasure triggered my release. Her screams, no doubt, could be heard through this entire section of the base, but I didn’t care. I wanted everyone to know that I was her mate, that I was giving her what she needed, and that she was well taken care of.
I didn’t want any of these bastards to think they could do better.
She would live here, work here, make friends and talk to people, but I’d be the one she came home to. Hunt would be waiting with me. We’d be the ones to strip her bare and take her, fuck her. Fill her. Love her.
Make her scream.
My orgasm hit and I staggered forward, for a short time vulnerable. I couldn’t protect her when my pleasure took over. I couldn’t do anything except close my eyes and give over as I came, lost to the bliss only to be found in my mate. My cock thickened inside her, thrust deep and bottomed out, pulsed with the need to expel my seed, to fill her. I did, coating her walls, filling her womb. I groaned, leaned forward and slapped my hand on the wall. The sound of the metal denting echoed in the small room.
Only after I caught my breath did I lower her to the ground and drop to kneel behind her. The movement had my cock slipping free. Carefully, I slid my thumb from her, watched her as she caught her breath. She hadn’t moved, but her eyes were closed and I felt a sense of lethargy, euphoria and satisfaction coming from her.
I grunted at the sight of my seed slipping from her, coating her thighs, a bold drop slipping to the floor between my knees. I got hard at the sight of my claim, knowing I’d filled her.
“You’re mine, Kristin. Never forget who you belong to.”
She turned then, dropped to my lap and cupped my face with her hands.
“I won’t forget.”
“Me and Hunt. No one else touches you.”
“You’re such a caveman.”
Her bold answer made me grin. “You’re mine. Say it.”
She shook her head and bit her full lower lip, just hard enough to make me want to taste it and I groaned.
Her eyes darkened and she studied my face. I wondered what she saw there. My features were not human, my nose and cheeks too angular, my coloring different, my teeth longer and sharper than the men from her world. She studied me like I was a complex puzzle, and leaned forward to place a soft, tender kiss on my lips. I’d never been kissed like that, the gentleness made me shiver, an unfamiliar ache settling deep in my chest. “I am beginning to believe, Captain, that you have that backwards.”
“How so?”
“I’m pretty sure you two belong to me.”
She was right. So fucking right. This woman owned me, but I wasn’t going to admit it to her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Chapter Eleven
Kristin
I paced the confines of our quarters, fuming. I had no idea if my irritation could reach my mates through the collar, but I couldn’t make myself care. I was no eight-year-old little princess running around in sparkly shoes needing my big, strong daddies to protect me.
For three days, my mates had kept me here, locked away for my own safety while they’d been out there hunting for the missing men and coming away empty handed. Three days! I’d managed to get my hands on one of the ion blasters, but they’d found it—damn the collars for the sense of satisfaction I’d felt at grabbing the stupid thing—and promptly taken it away from me like I was a helpless child, not a trained Federal Agent.
I told them about my job, my skills, my experience, but they didn’t care. Earth was a lesser planet to them, which made my abilities lesser. I knew they saw me as an equal. No, they placed my life above theirs. I knew they valued me, well, I felt that. But it wasn’t my value or equality on the table here, it was my skills. My abilities.
They would give me anything I wanted…except when it came to my protection. They wouldn’t care if I had Wonder Woman bracelets that deflected bullets, they weren’t putting me in harm’s way. I didn’t want to go into danger, but I was completely useless here, trapped and feeling helpless. Neither condition I tolerated well.
I kept telling myself that they didn’t know me, didn’t truly know or understand what I was capable of, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy the discontent growing inside me like a cancer. The missing warriors were still MIA, even my powerful Prillon mates and the other twenty Colony warriors out searching every day couldn’t find them. Every evening, my mates came back from their fruitless search and fucked me until I couldn’t breathe before falling into an exhausted sleep.
They had granted me access to Base 3’s reports database, thanks to my anger, and at both Governor Rone’s and Rachel’s insistence. My mates had no problem allowing me to read and analyze data that might assist them in their search. From afar. But they would not let me go out and actually interview anyone, look in their eyes, watch for lies, ticks, nerves. Reports were great, but nothing was better than staring someone down and making them squirm. Seeing the truth even when they spouted lies.
I’d been the princess locked in the tower long enough. And I was done waiting.
Walking to the communications panel next to the door of our quarters, I waved my hand over it, pushed it, stared at it, trying to make it work. Something must have triggered, because I got a response from one of the communications officers somewhere on Base 3. His face appeared on the small screen and I squinted to get a better look. He wasn’t Prillon, looked far too human for that. Deep green eyes, caramel colored skin, and wavy hair that was the color of melted brown sugar.
He was gorgeous. Stunning. And to my absolute disgust, I found him utterly and completely unattractive. He could win modeling contests back on Earth, and for all the interest I had, I might as well have been talking to a block of Swiss cheese.
Boring, boring man. No heat. No fire. Not enough badass alien for my newly acquired tastes. Tyran and Hunt had ruined me for all others. I wanted what I wanted and that was my mates. And they were mine. The overprotective jerks. So, if my pussy was telling me I was stuck with them, they were going to have to learn to behave.
“Lady Zakar, how may I assist?”
“What planet are you from?” I blurted the question without thinking, but then, that’s what I did. I asked questions. It was kind of my specialty.
“Trion, my lady. Do you require assistance?”
“Yes. Get these two monster sized guards out of my hair.” While I couldn’t see them through the closed door, I knew they were there. The two Prillon warriors standing guard were meant to keep me safe. Which was a joke. Give me freaking gun and I’d take care of that myself.
At his confused look, I gave up on the slang and said something even a hard-headed, alpha male alien would understand.
“I need to speak to Lady Rone immediately. Please ask her to come to my quarters at once.”
“Yes, my lady.” He nodded and disappeared from the screen. I knew he’d do what I asked. No doubt, Rachel would arrive with a string of her own guards, which might present a problem. But I would deal with one challenge at a time.
The fury growing inside me was shocking, but it shouldn’t have been. I’d dedicated my life on Earth to protecting people, to tracking down criminals and seeing justice done. That these wounded Colony warriors
wouldn’t allow me to help made me feel like I had cockroaches crawling around inside my chest. The feeling made me crazed, made me want to hiss and scream and throw things in the mother of all meltdowns.
But that wasn’t my style. I’d learned how to cage my rage and helplessness, strap it down deep in my mind and function, despite the emotions clogging my throat. The horribleness of what I’d seen, what I’d uncovered in all my years with the FBI would have put me in the looney bin otherwise. But for the first time in years I struggled to maintain control. And why?
I knew why, because my mates, the men I was growing to love, the men I’d given myself to, surrendered to, were now the ones holding me back.
As much as I needed Tyran’s strong handed dominance in the bedroom, I wasn’t willing to give up that level of control in other areas of my life. Hunt, I was sure, would come around eventually. I would need to make him understand and then ask him to help me handle Tyran.
As much as that caveman male could be handled.
In their arms, in their bed, I could let go, give up my iron control and be free in a way I never was anywhere else. I craved those moments, that release.
But this was something else entirely. This was evil stalking the citizens of my new home, and the Colony—and every warrior here—was mine now. This was my new family, which meant these people were mine. Just like the girls I’d helped save on Earth were mine. It wasn’t logical, but serving the community wasn’t about logic. Neither was being with two hard-headed warriors even though they were a pain in my ass.
I’d watched a movie once where a father explained things to his little boy by grouping all people into one of three types: sheep, wolves, or sheepdogs.
Protecting the people—the sheep—from the wolves was just what I did. And as shocked as I was by the fact that I was on an alien world, with aliens for husbands, that one fundamental truth about me hadn’t changed. Not. One. Bit. I was not prey.
Yet, it seemed my mates thought of me as a sheep. Until they saw me for what I was, the ruthless, relentless guard dog, then we’d have problems and I’d be pissed.
A chime of some sort sounded and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. Must be the doorbell. Who knew there were space doorbells?
I walked to the door and waved my hand over the control panel. Nearly silent, the entry slid sideways, revealing Rachel standing on the other side. She was dressed in the green that I’d learned meant she was part of the medical staff, a doctor. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a braid and her face was bare of makeup. But her skin practically glowed, and I shoved aside a bit of envy. With her olive colored skin, she looked like a Greek goddess. I should have hated her for being at least three inches taller than me. I’d always felt like a white orchid that just melted or burned to a crisp in the sun. With my blond hair cut in a pixie style, my pale skin nearly translucent, and all the extra junk in the trunk, I felt like an ugly duckling facing a dark swan. I wanted to hate her for all of it, but she was too nice. She forced me to adore her, which just wasn’t entirely fair.
Then again, I was used to women prettier than me. But even as the usual self-deprecating thoughts ran through my mind, a formidable, primitive part of me rose up and filled me with confidence and feminine power. Rachel was beautiful and brilliant. A scientist who’d figured out what the Hive had been up to a few months ago, when her mate, Maxim, had become ill and a human named Brooks had died. She’s solved the puzzle and saved the lives of everyone on this planet. Not the powerful Prillons, not the Atlan beasts. Her.
But Tyran and Hunt didn’t want her, they wanted me. I wasn’t a scientist, I wasn’t tall and dark, but I was theirs. I was strong and relentless. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt just how violent their feelings for me were, because I could sense everything through the collars. Felt it with every touch. Reveled in it with every orgasm.
They didn’t pretend to be obsessed with me, to desire me. Their obsession, the intense attraction was real. And that gave me more confidence than ever. I’d never felt stronger, more capable.
Unfortunately for them, it also made me less likely to stay in this room like a good little mate while they went out into the world hunting bad guys without me. No. Fucking. Way.
Rachel lifted her brow as I peeked over her shoulder into the cream colored corridor. Behind her stood not two, but four additional guards. Two Prillon I didn’t know, an Atlan named Rezz and a dark, brooding Everian Hunter I’d met yesterday at dinner. They were all new arrivals on the Colony and Hunt told me he was confident that serving guard duty over the governor’s mate would be a good way to make them feel included and part of the community without giving them too much opportunity to cause trouble. One of the missing men, Captain Perro, had been their friend.
Hunt wanted to keep an extra close eye on them. Guess he’d succeeded. Especially since they were working with other, long-time Colony residents.
The assignment to protect me or Rachel must have felt like traffic duty for city cops as far as I was concerned. Boring as hell. If I was safe inside our quarters, there wasn’t too much danger right outside the doorway. I actually felt bad for the two Prillon standing guard. Captain Marz was new to the Colony, and one of my personal shadows anytime Hunt and Tyran had to go to work. If I got to leave our rooms.
If my mates were protective, Governor Rone and Captain Ryston were, evidently, twice as bad. Four guards? Cue the eye-roll. Seriously.
“Hi, Kristin. Are you all right?” Rachel’s words were in English, and I grinned. The NPU worked wonders, translating the various languages spoken on the Colony almost instantly, but it was still nice to hear someone from home.
“Hi. I’m fine. Just mad. Can we talk?”
She nodded over her shoulder before stepping inside my quarters, the door sliding closed behind her so we could speak alone. I sighed.
“And now there are six huge-ass warriors wasting their time standing outside my room.”
Rachel laughed, her brown eyes sparkling, which helped cool some of my temper. If anyone knew what hell I was going through at the moment, it had to be her. “They do tend to be a little over-protective.”
I wasn’t one to mince words, not when it came to work. “I need armor and a gun.”
The humor in her gaze faded quickly and she studied me with a somber expression. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Has anything like this—the missing warriors—happened on the Colony before? How many of these guys are skilled investigators? I know they all fought in the war, but killing bad guys and talking to them are two very different skill sets.”
She paced from the door to the tiny table in the makeshift eating area. The place was set up like an efficiency apartment back on Earth, a barely-there kitchen—because most times the warriors ate together in the community dining halls—two couches and the S-Gen unit in the corner. There was a chair I could imagine curling up in to read, and a very large bed that I couldn’t bear to look at just now. Remembering what my mates had done to me in it would distract me from my plan.
“I know you’re right, but these aren’t drug dealers or pimps, Kristin. And this isn’t Earth. They’re Hive.”
I shook my head. I knew enough. “I’ve been reading about them. Reading the reports. I’ve pored through hundreds, maybe thousands of documents in the database over the last few days. I know what I’m getting into. They’re trying to re-assimilate everyone on this planet, to take it over, and I’m not going to let them have my mates, or anyone else.”
“What?” Rachel’s dark brows winged up and she stopped cold. “What did you just say?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, my dark blue tunic and pants annoying to me now when I wanted to be wearing armor like my mates.
I sighed. “Come on, Rachel. Are you trying to tell me that’s not exactly what you think is going on here?”
She shook her head and took a couple steps closer to me, her voice slow, each word drawn out as if she was thinking about them even as they lef
t her mouth. “No…but how could you possibly know that? We haven’t told the rest of the citizens on the Colony for fear it would start a panic. How did you find out?”
Tilting my head to the side, I raised one brow and knew the skepticism showed on my face. “Really? It’s all there, in the reports. You just have to read between the lines.”
“Shit.” Rachel laughed. “You are good.”
I grinned and it felt fabulous that my assumptions had been validated. “It’s what I do.”
“Yes, you’re right. Fine.” She sighed. “I’m going to get in trouble for this, but all right. I’m in. If we’re going to be BFFs, we might as well start raising hell and breaking them in. I’d been doing it all by myself up until now. It’ll be better with a partner-in-crime. What do you want to do?”
I hugged her. Hard. I couldn’t help it. “BFFs,” I agreed.
She grinned, hugging me back, her face full of mischief. “Okay, Miss FBI. What kind of trouble are we going to get into today?”
I let her go and paced in front of her, gathering my thoughts. “I read your medical reports. I read about the death of Captain Brooks and about the man you think was responsible, the Prillon medical officer who disappeared. Krael?”
Rachel’s expression said more than words. Hate was strange to see on her normally kind face. “Yes. That’s his name. He murdered Brooks and nearly killed Maxim and then disappeared, crawled back into a hole like the rat he is. Others would have died if we hadn’t figured out what he’d been up to.”
“I don’t think the fact that Krael was never caught, and that now, three months later, warriors are disappearing is just a coincidence. Did he have friends? Family? Who did he train with? Eat with? Sleep with? Work with?”
Mated To The Cyborgs (Interstellar Brides: The Colony Book 2) Page 10
