Trist kissed my foot and my thoughts went back to him, to the lightest of touches. He’d kissed my foot. Then my leg. He was working his way back up my body toward my greedy pussy—it was totally fucking greedy for the big cock of his—and I knew where he was going, exactly what he was going to do. He was going to lick and suck me into his mouth and make me come, make me beg and whimper and surrender to him in every way.
I wanted him to dominate me, need me, demand I give him everything. I knew I was different from other women in that way, but I needed him to leave me breathless and sweaty and completely at his mercy. I needed. Desperately, almost as desperately as I needed to fight the urge to cry. This was why I’d become an Interstellar Bride. The devotion I felt from him through the collar, the fierce protective and possessive instincts. The possessive way his hands moved over my skin, the way his mouth clamped down without pause or pretense.
The way Brax had taken me.
Damn it, there he was again. But I shoved the thought away and focused on the golden color of Trist’s hair between my thighs. I reached out, ran my fingers through the silky strands. When his tongue did some magical swirl, I tugged, held him in place as I lifted my hips.
My body was all he ever wanted. When Trist said I was his priority, he meant it. When he said he’d fight for me, kill for me and die for me, he meant every damn word. I could feel his resolve as his mouth closed over me, as his fingers slipped inside my pussy and pushed me to come. He needed that from me, to know he could pleasure me, to be the one to provide everything, including orgasms.
I arched off the bed, unable to control the needy sounds coming from my throat as he found my G-spot, then curled his fingers.
“Trist.” I said his name, reminded myself that this was Trist, not Brax. My mate. He was mine. Really mine. His body was mine. His cock was mine. His heart would be mine, as well.
This total devotion from a mate was what I wanted, what I had been missing on Trion. Trist was everything I wanted. Why did I keep reminding myself of this?
And why did it hurt?
He growled and lifted his head, kissing his way up my body and leaving a sticky trail of my arousal along the way until he hovered over me, his huge cock pressing firmly against the opening of my wet pussy. When I thought he would push forward, he stopped instead, leaning over me. I looked up into his golden eyes and became paralyzed by the raw devotion I saw there. I rocked my hips and the head of his cock stroked over my folds.
God, these Prillon collars were intense. There would be no hiding anything from him. Not my fear. Not my need. My desire. One day, I hoped, my love.
As if he read the thought in my mind, his face softened. “I feel the pain inside you, Miranda. You’re here now, with me. I shall ease it. It is my duty. My privilege to make it go away. I shall do anything to see you happy. I vow that you will never need to feel it again. Not with me.”
That was it. I couldn’t stop the dam of tears I’d been holding back and they slid down my cheeks. He blurred and I blinked, trying to will them away. “I’m sorry. I need you. I didn’t mean to make you feel—”
His lips cut off my protest and I lost myself in the gentle exploration for long minutes. When I was a melted pile of goo, when my hands were gripping his tight ass and trying to get him to fill my aching pussy with his hard length, he pulled back and looked into my eyes once more. He would not go in, not yet, and in that moment, I realized, he was in charge. “You are mine, Miranda. Mine to protect. Mine to care for. I will hear about your past, mate. I will hear all of it. I will know what causes this pain.”
I shook my head until he kissed me again and I knew through our collar connection that he was holding back, that his body, this restraint, was causing him physical pain. I hurt so he hurt. His control was like a deep, dark pool of ice water inside him. He would not budge on this. He would demand I surrender every truth about myself. And his resolve soothed something in me I hadn’t understood was ragged.
In that moment, I knew his oath to me was unbreakable. One hour in and I was his and he was mine. All I had to do was say yes, accept his claim. The control, his unbreakable will, would surround and protect me. Always.
“I am yours, Trist,” I breathed. “Your mate. And you are mine.”
His body tensed and I felt the shift in his emotions at my declaration. He’d been like ice a moment ago. Now I felt an explosion building within his mind, a break in his control, not because he was weak, but because I needed him to take me. To be wild. To fuck me until I couldn’t remember my own name. “All of you, mate. Body and mind. I will not accept less.”
“What about my heart?” I asked, lifting a hand to run a fingertip down his cheek.
He tilted his head and kissed my palm. “That I will earn, but I shall have it.”
For a badass alien warrior, he was cute, in an apex predator kind of way. I told him so.
“I am not cute, mate.” With a grin that was borderline evil, he thrust forward. Slowly. Stopped halfway in me, enough to be stretched wide about him, opening for him, but not enough to be satisfied. No. No. No. Don’t stop.
He hovered, watching my face as he filled me, studying me, my reaction. I felt like he was learning me, learning what I liked, what I wanted.
But it wasn’t enough to have him opening me up, having my walls ripple and clench about him, trying to pull him deeper. I needed to feel like I was giving him everything. I couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand myself enough to ask him to do anything differently, so I lifted my arms above my head and held them there, exposing myself to him in every way. Giving myself over to him.
His eyes flared with understanding, and with one hard thrust, he filled me to the breaking point, the tip of his cock hitting deep inside me.
My head tipped back and I gasped. “Trist!”
My entire body shifted on the bed, my full breasts jiggled as the force of his thrusting moved me up and down on the bed. I did not move my arms. I let him have me, let him give me what he wanted, let him learn and sense what I needed on his own.
Harder. Deeper. I was on the edge and he held himself over me, watching me like a predator. I felt his pleasure, his admiration. He thought I was beautiful and wonderful. Exotic. I could feel his desire through the collar, just as he could probably feel my frustration. My need to come.
I was on the edge, riding the line to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. I needed… more. I writhed and panted, shifted and clenched my hands into fists.
“Tell me what you need, mate.” His order was half growl.
How could I tell him that I wanted him to be bossy, demanding? That my body was waiting for him to give permission for my release? That I wanted him to hold me down and spank me and put clamps on my nipples and my clit? How was I supposed to tell him that now? It was too much to throw down on our first time together. And when he had chosen a second, I was hoping it wouldn’t be an issue. Two hot mates. Two cocks fucking me and filling me.
The thought of riding two mates, taking them both at the same time, filled my mind and my body responded, getting wetter around him, one step closer. Just not. Quite. There.
“Ahhh.” The sound was half mindless need and half frustration on my part.
“Gods be damned, you will tell me what you need.” He grabbed my wrists, one in each of his large hands, and splayed them wide above my head in a firm hold. I tried to move them, but I couldn’t. He held me down as he stopped moving, cock buried deep. “Now,” he growled. “Tell me.”
Held down, his cock buried deep but unmoving, commanded to obey, my orgasm ripped through me like an explosion, and I bucked beneath him as his eyes flared wide. A scream tore from my lips at the way I had no choice, no control. The one word, now, was a command I’d obeyed. Pinned to the bed by cock and hands, I had no choice. I didn’t want one but gave myself to him in that. I needed the comfort, the security of his dominance and power. I could let go, to give him everything. I felt his surprise when it was all revealed through the collar,
when he felt my orgasm deep inside of him along with the rippling walls of my pussy. His jaw clenched and my pleasure sent him over the edge with me.
7
Brax, Councilor Roark and Natalie’s private quarters, Xalia City, Trion
* * *
I ignored the bell signal that I would normally use to signify my presence and banged my fist against the door. I didn’t care that it was Roark’s door, or that he was my superior officer. I didn’t care that he was the councilor of the entire Southern continent or whether he might consider my behavior to be rude or disrespectful. I didn’t care about anything but him opening the gods damned door.
When he didn’t answer, I banged some more. Then some more. Harder. If he didn’t open the door soon, I’d kick it down.
Finally, it slid open silently and there stood Roark with his new baby girl, Talia, in his arms. He looked ready to kill me, frightening…until you looked at the tiny infant he was holding. She was pure innocence and sweetness, the contrast not lost on me. I felt the same way when I was with Miranda, gentle yet fiercely protective at the same time. The way Roark glared at me was unlike anything I’d ever seen while on duty. His words shocked me more.
“If you’ve woken Noah from his nap, you will be stunned with my ion pistol until you piss yourself.”
Yes, he was deadly serious about my insult in waking his young son.
Well, I was not in the mood to be trifled with, and I needed answers more than I feared Roark and his ion blaster. “Where is Miranda? And who the fark is the Coalition soldier currently residing in Miranda’s quarters?” He was lucky I hadn’t forced my way past him. Only his complete confusion when I mentioned Miranda’s name had saved him from a solid beating. He had no idea who Miranda was. None.
Which meant she had moved. Where, I had no idea. But she was mine and I would find her. I didn’t care if she’d been transferred to the deserts or the mountains, I would go wherever she was, place my adornments on her and bring her home, to Xalia City, where she belonged. In my bed. In my home. I’d resigned my commission with the Intelligence Core, told Roark that the pirate mess in the south was my last mission. He hadn’t questioned my decision. Hadn’t asked why. Which I’d taken as his implied consent. He knew I had been in a relationship with Miranda, his mate’s best friend from Earth, his son’s honorary aunt. Miranda was family to Roark and his mate, which meant the councilor had to know where she had disappeared to. And if Roark didn’t know, his mate, Natalie, would.
Roark studied me, quietly rocking his infant in his arms. “That soldier is a delegate from the Northern Hemisphere here for the annual meeting of regional alliances,” he said, a dark brow raised. He was not in his usual uniform, but in simple black pants and a gray tunic. The baby in his hold had her mother’s fair hair and coloring, but she stared at me with the same dark eyes as Roark’s. The fact that she was drooling on her father’s arm was plenty of indication she wasn’t following anything we were saying. I could let a few farks slip out with in front of her, but not her older brother, who repeated every curse word he heard with enthusiasm.
“I don’t care where he’s from,” I countered, full of frustration and sarcasm. “Where is Miranda?”
“Why do you care?” It was not Roark who asked, but Natalie. She came up beside her mate, Noah at her side, the little boy’s hair ruffled from sleep. He was holding her hand, his curious eyes staring at me. He knew me, but seemed to be in that stage of needing a little time to orient himself after being rudely awakened before he was ready.
“Should I kill him, mate, for awakening Noah?” Roark asked, staring down at his petite mate.
She shook her head, gave him a small smile. When she turned to look at me, the tender look slipped and was replaced by a less than friendly scowl. “No. He was already awake when the door banging occurred.”
Roark sighed and stepped back, allowing me entry, probably realizing I wouldn’t be deterred. I offered him a nod of thanks and stepped into their spacious quarters. There were toys strewn on the floor, a child-sized table and chairs beneath a window with the view of the city with a little plate and cup on it. It seemed that was where Noah had his post-nap snack.
“I care because Miranda is mine,” I said, turning to face the family of four, but speaking directly to Natalie.
They were a perfect family unit. Roark, strong, powerful and brave, who fiercely protected those he loved. Talia, whom he’d lain down on a blanket on the floor, her little legs pumping in the air. Natalie, who proudly wore his medallion on a chain between her breasts. They were hidden now beneath a soft white top, but many times in the past she’d dressed for formal occasions in gowns with plunging necklines that showed off Roark’s emblems adorning her. Noah, who at two, was just like his father, fiercely watching out for the females. He went and stood beside his sister, mimicking Roark’s wide-legged stance, as he guarded her. From me. Someone his mother was obviously displeased with.
The corner of my mouth tipped up in pride at the two-year-old. He would grow up to be fierce and brave. I wanted a son to guide and help grow into a strong fighter, who would one day protect a mate of his own.
“Yours?” Natalie shook her head. “Day late and a dollar short, Brax.”
“What does that mean?” I understood her words, but the Earth slang was not one I had heard before. A dollar was a form of payment on Earth. Did Natalie expect me to purchase Miranda? That did not make sense and was something an honorable male would never do.
“She’s not yours. She never belonged to you,” Natalie said breaking me from my thoughts. She sat down with her arms crossed over her chest and a fierce scowl on her face, it was clear she was very angry with me. Her toe tapped on the floor in a fast rhythm that further irritated me.
“Where is she?”
“None of your business.” Natalie raised a brow. “And she belongs to someone else now. Someone who will take care of her properly.”
Her words clicked and I straightened. Stiffened. “You mean she belongs to that idiot in her quarters? Over my dead body.”
Natalie harrumphed. “That can be arranged,” she grumbled, turning her attention to the tips of her fingers, which I found odd, until I realized it was a ploy at ignoring me. I was being dismissed.
“Gara,” Roark warned.
“Don’t gara me, mate. She was nothing to him. Friends with benefits. He had his chance. How long should a girl have to wait?” Natalie refused to look at me, staring down her mate instead. He shrugged and turned to me.
“Friends with benefits?” I asked him. What the fark did that mean? Another Earth term I had heard neither Natalie nor Miranda speak.
“Fuck buddies.” Her glare was clearly focused on me now. “Friends with benefits. Sex with no strings.”
“Strings are dangerous, female. Of course I would not be so irresponsible with Miranda’s body.”
“You don’t get it, Brax. She moved on. You’re too late.”
“Fark—” I growled, trying to understand the Earth slang. “Does she belong to that fighter?”
“No, of course not,” Natalie snapped, “And watch your mouth in front of my son.” She glared at me but softened when Noah sat down beside his sister, who was now fussing, and held her hand. I did not dare point out that she had just used the same word. I was trying to get information out of the female, and she was not cooperating.
Roark came to my rescue. “He took over her quarters after her transport.”
My breath caught. “Transport? Where the fark—”
Natalie glared.
Where was Miranda? Had she transported to another continent? Gone home to Earth? Who would I have to threaten to get a transport approval to go after her? No one. At least not until I knew where my mate had gone.
“I apologize,” I said quickly with a slight bow of my head, glancing down at Noah. “Where did Miranda go? Where is she now?”
“A battleship in Sector 17,” Roark offered.
Sector 17? Why would she go the
re? Nothing made sense. I frowned, ran my hand through my hair. “I don’t understand. That’s in the middle of the war with the Hive. Why did you send her there?” I asked Roark.
“Because you didn’t want her,” Natalie said. “You didn’t want her for your mate, so she found a worthy male who did.”
“What are you talking about?” That made no sense. “She is mine. Of course I want her. She is my mate.”
Natalie tilted her head and there was not a hint of deceit in her gaze. “No. She’s not. She was bride tested. She was matched to a Prillon warrior in Sector 17. She’s his mate now. I was there when she transported.”
Fark. Fark! “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Tell me this is a jest.”
Natalie narrowed her gaze even more. I looked to Roark. He wasn’t smiling at all.
Talia fussed and Noah popped up, ran over to his mother and tugged her back to the baby so she could take care of her. Natalie scooped the baby up and returned to the couch where she tucked the infant beneath her loose shirt to nurse.
Roark went over, lifted Noah up and grinned at him, patted his little back. “Good job, son. I’m proud of how you take care of your females.” Noah grinned at his father, then hugged his neck with his chubby little arms. Roark set him down and ruffled his hair before the boy ran off to the small table to eat his snack.
“Miranda was matched to a Prillon warrior?” How? How was this possible? “But… she’s mine!”
Noah looked up from his food and stared at me wide-eyed. I was not used to tempering my emotions for children and this was a difficult time to do so. My female had been matched. To someone else. On a battleship. Light years away.
Matched and Mated Page 6
