Lunar Lovers Emma Abbiss On an ancient space station, Samius recognizes Achelle, a half-human, half-Rane female, as his mate the moment he smells her sexy scent. Knowing their lust for each other will soon become uncontrollable, he races to get them home to his brothers so all seven of them can complete the Rane bonding ritual—mating and marking her as part of their family. Samius’ brothers accept Achelle as his mate and she accepts them into her body, but is horrified at what she’s done when she wakes the next morning. Before Samius can explain her heritage and their culture, Achelle runs from him—and right into trouble, leaving her wondering if she’ll ever find a place where she belongs.
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Lunar Lovers ISBN 9781419934285 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Lunar Lovers Copyright © 2011 Emma Abbiss Edited by Jillian Bell Cover art by Syneca Electronic book publication July 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
LUNAR LOVERS Emma Abbiss
Lunar Lovers
Chapter One Achelle peered out of a small, circular window as the limping spaceship finally docked for repairs at an ancient space station that proclaimed itself Ploice Two in flashing blue block letters. The seal on the circular port door opened with a hacking cough that turned into a wheeze, allowing the stale, sanitized air from the ship to mingle with the thick, polluted air from the station. The resulting smoggy smell forced Achelle to hold her breath until she was out of the port and into the connect tunnel. The ship hadn’t stopped at a station for over a month so Achelle and her fellow travelers, all exhausted, appreciated the opportunity to disembark—even for a few short hours while one of the ship’s engines was repaired. She watched their wan faces and stiff frames as they shuffled like the walking dead into the busy station’s vibrant shopping ring. As happy as she and the other space-fatigued passengers were to leave the limping ship, they didn’t have the energy to explore and mingle with what had to be thousands of other travelers from dozens of foreign planets. Shoulders sagging, they found what they needed, made their purchases and shambled back to their tiny rooms onboard. Achelle forced herself to remain alert, tucking her chin into her small chest so the long neck and too-large eyes that she’d inherited from her Rane father would not set her apart from her mother’s people, the humans she traveled with. She forced her feet to do a slow slip and slide on the station’s shiny walk surface while her heart pounded out a fast and furious rhythm made for running. Unable to hear due to an industrial-sized exhaust fan whirring a few yards away, Achelle glanced over her narrow shoulder, checking to see if anyone followed her. Ploice Two was the lucky station she fixed her hopes on now. On the last six stations, the only available positions were strippers and prostitutes. Achelle had 5
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nothing against the women who took such positions, but just weeks ago she had promised her prostitute mother on her deathbed that she would not follow in the family tradition. This was why she needed to find a way off the damn ship and away from the obsessed captain who had become increasingly difficult to fend off. Flattening herself against the knobby side of a low, fluorescent-yellow building, she watched with narrowed eyes as two greasy crewmen from her ship sauntered into the one blue-black bar crammed in among the expansive yet polite shops. No way was she going into that waste of space. She could smell the bitter scent of gut-rot alcohol and the bleak smell of cheap latex and lubricant from her hiding place across the wide walk. She rubbed at her watery eyes. After so much time on the spaceship, which employed low, energy-saving lighting, it felt as though the bright, fluorescing illumination on the station was searing her retinas. After counting down from ten, she peered around the corner, anxiously holding her breath until her lungs burned. Finding the way clear, she took a breath and waited for a small human family of four to draw near, then stepped in behind the father and blended, pretending to be the eldest daughter as she decided where to go next. The squat, spherical clothing store up on the right was as good a place as any. She pictured herself walking inside the bubble-shaped building, head held up, hands folded calmly in front of her, a confident smile plastered on her otherwise desperate face. She would impress the owner with her sales experience, energy and intelligence. As she approached the wavering shield doors, her chest tightened and her hands began to shake. So much rode on her finding a job. Last sleep cycle, she had barely escaped the large, grasping hands of the infatuated captain to run and hide the rest of the remaining five sleep hours in a tight cubby in the grungy children’s play area on deck two. She shivered in fear just thinking about the towering, muscular man who she’d evaded only through desperate speed and frantic inventiveness. When he’d gripped her arms with bruising force and pulled her against his bulging-muscled body, his pale, 6
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blue eyes had flashed with fixated arousal, as if he was possessed or suffering from space madness. Gods, she missed her mother…and had counted on her far more than she’d realized. Her mom was world-wise and vicious as venom. In her childish innocence, Achelle had believed her mother would always be there for her, that she would never have to fend for herself. They had planned to make a new life—one where her mom would have a respectable job and Achelle could finish her education—on a newly founded planet at the edge of the galaxy. To lose her one family member unexpectedly had left Achelle in an almost comatose state for thousands of light-years. Until, that is, the captain expressed his false regret and forcefully “offered” his protection if she took a new position as his sexual companion. Yeah, screw that. Achelle would rather jump out an airlock than jump in Captain Grab-Ass’ bed. A metallic chirp sounded when she breached the transparent shield door and walked in to the trendy clothing store called Spaced. The inside was small and the clothing shelves mostly empty. She appeared to be the only customer. With a sigh, she approached the purchase station and waited for a curvaceous redhead to acknowledge her. With a sniff, the woman turned and looked Achelle up and down with bored, unimpressed eyes. “Something I can help you with, Mar?” she asked, using the common, polite term for “Miss” when her body language and voice were anything but polite. Achelle lifted her chin and smiled. “Hello. I’m looking for a sales position and—” “Sorry,” the woman interrupted, sounding anything but. “We don’t have any openings. If you come back at the beginning of traveling season, we might have a position available.” Right. As if Achelle could simply wait around for three months. The woman was either an idiot or unkind. “Can you tell me if anyone else is hiring on the station?” 7
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“Misty’s had an advert up last time I dined there. It’s the restaurant in the fourhundred curve of the ring.” Well, at least I have a lead, Achelle thought as she left Spaced and quickly walked away. Realizing she wasn’t blending, she forced herself to slow to the same speed of the foot traffic and refused to look over her shoulder as the crowd flowed like a humanoid river down the metallic bed of the walkway. Overhead, in blazing block letters a sign read Three Hundred Circle. Not far to go, she thought, blinking at the bright sign and promptly tripping over a squat, rusted-out trash bot. The bot, no bigger than her head, righted itself on crooked legs, lifted its angular head and spit a greasy, green residue all over her slim ankles and old shoes. She kicked the bot away from her but the sharp-smelling slime worked like acid, eating through her skirt and shoes to burn her skin. “Hey!” shouted a short man with an oblong head full of tangled hair. Unshaven and gruff-looking, he stood in front of the shield door of a ship strip-down shop that was pretending to be a repair shop. “That bot’s private property. If you damage it, you’ll pay for repairs.” Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, Achelle bolted into a nearby alley to jerk off her shoes and rip off the bottom of her worn skirt. She threw them away from her, panting with pain. Raw chemical burns festered on the tops of her feet, her ankles and the tips of her fingers. Stupid bot…stupid her for tripping over the damn thing. Trash bots used an acidic fluid to decompose the trash they ingested and didn’t hesitate to use the fluid in selfdefense protocols. Never mind the fact that the little bot belonged to ship thieves. Back on Earth, she’d seen a team of four thieves strip a stolen ship of all its valuable parts in less than five minutes. Then they had made themselves disappear without a trace.
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Too bad she couldn’t do the same. Gods, she sucked at this furtive, stealthy crap. Grimacing at her bare ankles and feet, she groaned. “I look like space trash,” she complained to herself. “Now no one will want me.” Yet she had no choice but to keep going. She checked left and right before leaving the alley, then walked with purpose through the busy three-hundred curve of the ring. Long minutes later, the four-hundred curve sign hovered overhead. She slowed to check the name of each establishment. At last she saw a small sign that said Misty’s in understated silver letters. There was no green hiring symbol—a humanoid with one hand raised and one by its side—beneath the name though. Maybe Misty’s was too high class to advertise an open position that way. Before she could step through the blue-tinted shield door, a tall man with sharp features stepped out and looked her over, his eyes lingering on her torn skirt and bare feet. “This establishment requires a standard of dress that you do not meet, Mar,” he said in a crisp, condescending tone. “Please return when you are properly attired.” He turned his narrow back, dismissing her, but Achelle let her anger take her by the hand. She stepped around the man and glared up into his sallow face. “I’m looking for a job and was told Misty’s might have an opening.” The corners of his nearly lipless mouth lifted ever so slightly, as if he were amused. “You were misled, Mar, but even if we did have an open position…” He cleared his throat, glancing down at her burned feet. “We would be unable to offer a position to…you.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers and smiled openly, revealing four rows of oblique, serrated teeth. “Perhaps you should check with the local brothels? They are located on the eight-hundred curve—on the opposite side of the ring—and are always looking for new bodies to fill their beds.”
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Achelle stepped back from the arrogant Krahs male but refused to drop her gaze. She waited until, with a lift of his thin eyebrows, he lost his toothy grin, broke eye contact and went into the restaurant. Then she walked away. She might be naïve about, well, a lot of things, but one thing she did know was never to turn her back on a Krahs whose teeth are showing. An itching between her shoulder blades told her that the Krahs male was watching her through the cloudy shield door—at least she hoped it was him and not the captain. When she and her mother had started the journey, Achelle had been excited to meet people of other races, maybe even Ranes. She was half-Rane after all. She had their same larger-than-human eyes and longer-than-human neck. But the more people she met, the less she wanted to know. With a forced show of pride, she lifted her chin, fisted her hands at her side and marched toward the upper hundred curves of the ring. So what if the brothels were located in the eight hundreds. She was sure there were plenty of other respectable jobs to be found there as well, and she wouldn’t let some Krahs snob keep her from looking.
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Chapter Two The activity of the small space station buzzed around Sam as he stopped in the middle of the shopping ring’s wide way and breathed deeply. Within the stale recycled air, past the stench of trash and citrusy-smelling cleaning chemicals, beyond the medicated water and deep-freeze food…he scented an irresistible bouquet. His body hardened, every muscle growing taut as he inhaled the sexual scent that fired his blood and enlivened the coupling instincts that his species had held since the dawning of their civilization. He followed the scent to Spaced, hunting his mortal mate. When he entered the upscale clothing store, his jaw clenched as his cock swelled. She had been here—briefly but recently. Adjusting the strap on his sling bag, he followed her scent through the aisles up to the cash-out counter, where his mate had lingered longest. The sales clerk turned and smiled. Her scent changed, revealing her sexual interest and befouling his mortal mate’s scent. He wrinkled his nose and walked out, not bothering to ask questions because he didn’t want to prolong time spent in the presence of a female whose robust scent diluted his mate’s. Down the way, his mate’s scent lingered on a small trash bot and then detoured into a scummy alley. A low growl rumbled up his throat when he found pale-yellow shoes and a long strip of material that smelled not just of his mate but of her blood and pain. He stuffed the strip of worn brown material inside the shabby shoes and cradled them to his chest. Her apparent injury quickened his heart and his steps. Outside the alley, Sam picked up her scent once more and followed it into the threehundred, then four-hundred curves. When his instinct took him to Misty’s, a high-end 11
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restaurant he frequented whenever he docked at Ploice Two station, a thrill zipped up his spine to crackle in his head. They shared the same taste in food. Her scent pooled a few paces from the blue-tinted shield door but did not move past it. The manager, Carpus, stepped outside and offered him a polite closed-lipped smile. “Mor Pherein.” Carpus gave a short, fast bow. “May I serve you?” “Yes. I am looking for a female who stopped here no more than ten minutes ago.” “Ah, yes, the little roughien who was seeking employment. I advised her to visit the establishments located in the eight-hundred curve.” He swiped the palms of his thin, spindly hands against his slacks as if wiping his hands of her. Sam’s vision bled to red as anger rushed through his veins, elongating his sharp canines so that they made indentations on his lower lip. He thirsted for the manager’s blood. And from the bastard’s reaction, Carpus knew it too. The male’s hand trembled as it protectively circled his throat. He shuffled backward. “I-I meant n-no offense, Mor Pherein. I—” Leashing his impulse to do bodily harm, Sam snarled at the Krahs before turning on his heel and heading down the way to the eight-hundred curve. By the time he hit the seven hundreds, he had calmed enough to overcome his instinctual drive to return to Misty’s and murder the manager. Obviously his rage was an overreaction brought on by the pursuit of his mate. Carpus had not known he was insulting Sam’s mate. She was not wearing his family mark over her breast, nor would her clothing reflect his house colors—brown and blue for earth and sky. Sam cursed as, far overhead, an industrial-sized fan started up and sterilizer sprayed, stirring and cleaning the air—and weakening his mate’s scent. He would not lose her. If he had to go into every establishment in the whole damn ring, then that’s exactly what he would do. Lucky for him, her sweet scent reemerged just outside Motel Mehendra, a sagging two-story building with hourly rates.
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His heart thumped hard when he walked into the lobby and saw his mortal mate speaking to a stoop-backed elderly male who stood behind the counter. She was lovely. Her white-blonde hair cascaded down to her small waist and slight hips like a tumble of frothy waves. Her bare feet showed signs of a moderate chemical burn from that trash bot and her petite frame appeared stiff and determined as she talked to the male. “I am willing to take any position, Mor,” she said. “I’m a fast learner and a hard worker.” The male barked out a low, “Nothing here for you, girl. Move along. I got customers.” She looked over her shoulder, probably searching for customers. Her magenta gaze landed on Sam, held, then returned to the clerk. “If you just give me a chance, I can—” “You’re wasting my time, girl.” The old male turned his back, dismissing her. With a deep breath, she squared her slim shoulders and hurried out the shield door. When she passed by Sam, he drank her in, his whole body straining to absorb her essence. His mouth watered, his muscles tightened, his cock jerked in his trousers. Calling on his normally steadfast control, he swallowed past his need and slipped her shoes into his sling bag as he followed her out into the wide curveway. When she paused before the dingy diner next door, he approached her. Hands in his pockets, he spoke softly so as not to startle his mate. “Excuse me, Mar.” She looked up, her magenta eyes shining with tears. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He fought harder to ignore her injuries and instead focus on convincing her to come with him. “Did I hear you say you’re looking for work?” She tilted her head to the side, reminding him of a bird. “Honorable work,” she clarified, suspicion lacing her tone.
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“Of course.” He bowed his head to her in respect. “I have such a position at my family home on Twellen Moon. We are looking for a domestic, as our mining business has taken off and now demands most of our time.” Eyes wary, she extended her hand. “I’m Achelle.” Interesting that she doesn’t offer her surname, he thought before introducing himself. “My name is Samius Pherein, Mar Achelle, but my friends and family call me Sam. It is my pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing the lightest of kisses on her knuckles so as not to frighten her with his attention. Straightening, he closed his eyes for the briefest moment, licking his lips to taste her. When he met her gaze, her eyes flared in recognition. Her body acknowledged him as her mate even if her mind did not. This time when he spoke his voice came out deep and gravelly. “Do you have interest in taking a position away from the station?” he asked to distract both of them from the sexual pull that rode their tense bodies. Her pretty pink lips parted.
Achelle tried to speak but all she could do was suck in a sharp breath and nod her head as if she were a rude child. What’s wrong with me? she wondered. The sudden, intense attraction to the male was not like her at all, but there was something about him—something that went beyond his green-blue eyes that she couldn’t stop staring at or his tall, well-built body that she imagined pressing up against, or his smile-lined mouth that she wanted to taste. She trusted him. Naturally, innately trusted this unknown male when she had trusted no one but her mother for so long. At last, she pulled herself together enough to ask, “Are there any other females at your home, Mor?”
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He smiled for the first time and it thrilled her. Little sparks of attraction licked across her skin and brought blood to her cheeks. Damn. No doubt she was turning red. She bit her lip to suppress the crazy desire breaking over her body. “There are many females on Twellen Moon and two within the household neighboring ours.” She breathed a sigh of relief. If other females lived nearby, surely she would be safe there as well. Still, she didn’t want to become stuck if it turned out to be too good to be true. Samius seemed to read the thoughts on her face because he said, “You could accept on a trial basis. If you are unhappy with anything, I give you my word that I will return you to the station any time you request it.” Achelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” Then, taking a leap of faith, she said, “I accept.” A satisfied smile spread across his face, one that sent a shiver up Achelle’s spine and made her doubt her decision. There was a world of subtext in the hard lines of his masculine jaw and the twinkling of his soft green-blue eyes. Before she could voice her doubt, he asked, “Where is your luggage? We will go retrieve it now.” Her fingers trembled and she latched on to her skirt to hide the tremor. “I have nothing,” she lied. He frowned, lines gathering in his brow, but he didn’t question her falsehood. Instead he looked her up and down and said, “We will need to remedy that before we return home. There are few options, clothing-wise, on Twellen Moon.” He turned and walked toward the nearest clothing store. She stayed rooted to the spot, choking on her pride. She did not want him to know she had no credit to purchase clothing with and she could not return to the spaceship with Captain Grab-Ass there to lay claim to her. Samius turned and lifted one thick brow. “Is there a problem, Mar?”
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She stiffened her spine and met his eyes. “I prefer to purchase additional clothing after I have earned my first pay-credit.” After a brief hesitation during which a group of males from Achelle’s ship walked between them, eyeing her curiously, Samius replied, “The clothes I will purchase are work attire and therefore my financial responsibility. Shall we proceed?” Achelle nodded her assent but did not join her new employer until the group of men ambled into a house of prostitution. The tingling, itching feel at the back of her neck started, warning her that Captain Grab-Ass was somewhere nearby watching her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and edged closer to the protection of Samius’ large, muscular body as they walked into the clothing store, Gamo. The clothing that lined the walls and hung delicately from stands throughout the store was of higher quality than at Spaced. All made from digital fabric, they were designed to last a lifetime and of versatile fashion. Unless Samius planned to pay her an enormous salary, it would take her years to pay off even one outfit. Her heart sank. That her employer meant to pay for this— Captain Grab-Ass walked into the store and headed right toward her. Suddenly Samius stepped in front of her, facing the captain unflinchingly. “Is there something you want from my employee?” he glanced at the yellow space-captain badge on his left shoulder, “Captain?” Captain Grab-Ass snorted. “This girl is my passenger and therefore my responsibility. I mean to take her back to my ship. Step aside, Mor.” Samius didn’t budge. “Your passenger disembarked and accepted a position with my household. She is now my responsibility, not yours.” Stepping to the side, Captain Grab-Ass said to Achelle, “Girl, I promised your mother I would see you safely to your destination. Would you have me break my word?” “My mother passed unto the Far Stars. I have to make my own decisions and I decided that a domestic position with Mor Pherein’s household will suit me just fine.” 16
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His eyes widened and he chuckled. “A domestic position, eh? More likely you’ll sleep in his bed than make it.” Samius’ hand moved so fast it was a blur. He wrapped his fingers around the captain’s throat and squeezed until the smaller man wheezed for air. “You will not insult the Mar. Ever. Understood?” Gasping like a space diver minus his oxygen mask, the captain choked as his head bobbed on his shoulders, agreeing wildly to what Samius said. Samius released him and the captain stumbled back, sucking in big gulps of air. His eyes, watery with tears, flashed angrily at Achelle before he turned and stormed out of the building. Achelle shivered. There had lived a promise in his eyes. One of retribution, a pledge of pain. Samius’ voice came out soft and soothing. “You are in no danger, Mar Achelle. As part of my household, you are under my and my family’s protection. Nothing and no one will harm you.” Looking into the male’s sincere face, Achelle believed that Samius would do everything in his power to protect her. Problem was, Captain Grab-Ass had that wild look of obsession when he’d met her eyes, and if there was one thing she had learned in the eighteen years of her life it was that obsessed people were not only dangerous but unpredictable. One never knew what they would do or when. Samius made short work of selecting her work wardrobe, which appeared far more pretty than serviceable, but she would not argue with her new employer’s selection. Not when he’d just saved her from the nightmare who’d followed her off the ship. With a dozen and a half outfits paid for and packaged, they left the store for his one-man flip ship—made for traveling short distances in a series of little light jumps. Declining her help, he secured her clothing with the mountain of other purchases in the back of the crowded ship while she watched.
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Despite his size, he was graceful in his movements. Achelle had the sinking feeling that she could spend the rest of her life watching the man in motion, imagining how he would move on her if they ever made love. She ground her teeth. Where had that thought come from? The unwarranted trust…and lust she felt for him made her nervous, unsure of herself, both being so unlike her. Where had her wariness gone? His actions in the short time she’d known him should make her like him, not lust over him, not love him. But her heart raced at a look or a touch from him. She happily snuggled in on the seat in front of him as he ran through a systems check, his arms circling her as he flipped buttons on the control panel in front of them, his chin resting on her head. Deciding there was no use fighting her feelings of safety and something more, she leaned back against him, comfortable in his embrace. Her exhaustion pulled her under into sleep.
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Chapter Three Usually when Sam sat in the pilot’s seat, he broke out in a cold sweat that drenched him with fear pheromones until the autopilot successfully flew him to his destination. Today, however, he was consumed by his mate. He loved the feel of her in his arms and blessed the gods who had directed him to take his one-seater flip ship instead of the two-seater he often used. Her scent surrounded him in the close quarters, binding him to her like nothing else could. His dread dissipated as if the past horror he’d experienced in flight was just a bad dream. He tasted her sweet, spicy essence on his tongue. He heard the subtle shift in her breathing as her heartbeat gradually slowed to match his. Soon they would be as one. And when she met his six brothers, a sub-bonding would occur between her and each one of them until they were all a mated unit, with Sam as her primary mate and his brothers as her minor mates. Achelle joining the family marked the beginning of the completion they had all sought since puberty. She moved closer, adjusting her position, getting comfortable, brushing up against the throbbing thickness that pressed against the seam of his pants. He stifled a groan. With the bonding escalating, their bodies had begun to prepare for coupling—a natural trigger that would complete the physical bonding as their minds and spirits joined together as mates.
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He activated the ship’s autopilot as soon as they left the docking station, setting them on the fastest course. Instinctively, he knew Achelle would need to couple with him soon or fall into unbridled agony if the coupling was left incomplete. Once she joined with all seven males, she would be bonded to his family, mated to him and protected by him and his brothers. With his flip ship full of supplies and an extra person, their trip would take—he checked the ETA—five point five hours. If his instincts were right, and he didn’t doubt them, his mate would need to couple an hour or more before then. Her head slumped back against his chest as exhaustion overtook her and he anchored her there by wrapping his thick arms around her petite waist just below small, high breasts that tempted him. But he would never do that, never take advantage of her weakness. She mumbled in her sleep and he adjusted her on his lap so he could care for her injured ankles and feet. Quickly and efficiently he tended her chemical burns, spraying heal-all on her raw skin and watching as the medication worked its magic—the tissue and skin healing, reknitting, returning to her pretty pink coloring. Once satisfied with the effectiveness of the heal-all, Samius noticed a series of small holes in her skirt higher up. He inched the fabric up to look for additional injuries and found several. Tenderly he applied the medication to the tiny burns that spotted her calves and thighs like angry, red freckles. He watched, mesmerized as she healed, revealing beautiful unblemished legs that he couldn’t help but run his work-rough hands up and down, loving the feel of her silky-soft skin. She murmured in her sleep. Her hand came up and landed over his heart. Silently, he lowered her skirt and cuddled her in his arms, not wanting to wake her. If she could sleep through the trip—sleep through the rising demand her body made on both of them to join together, he could and would control himself so that his younger brothers could bear witness to the first coupling, as was tradition. 20
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But after a few light-years and a couple of hours, Achelle stirred. With an adorable mewl, her large, magenta eyes slowly opened—and then widened as she looked up into his face. An adorable blush painted her cheeks as she realized she had draped herself over him. “How much further?” She grimaced as if in pain when she pulled away from him. “About an hour.” He rubbed her back to soothe her. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” “No, thank you.” Her breath caught and she trembled. The scent of her need permeated the air like a thousand open flowers. She needed to couple soon or the drive to do so would become unbearable. To divert her, Samius described his brothers, their home and their mining company. “Our home is in the middle of one point six thousand acres of land passed down through eighteen generations of my family. We mine for naturally occurring gems and minerals, some of them rare.” “What kind of minerals?” She scooted away from his obvious erection to balance on his knees. One corner of his mouth curved up and he offered her a lopsided smile. “Most females ask about the gems.” She ground her teeth and he dropped his smile. “The most common minerals we find are silicate, carbonate, oxide. My brother Cannan is a mineralogist. He can tell you all about the minerals we mine. The latest drill result will be in by the time we arrive home and will be discussed at length over supper, I’m sure.” His eyes wandered to her breast, over her heart, the place he and his brothers would use their sharp teeth to mark her as their mortal mate. She crossed her arms over her chest. Samius met her gaze once more and remembered what they’d been discussing. “My brothers Errol and Essar are identical twins. They’re lead project engineers, the best around.” She squirmed on his lap. “What do they do?” 21
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“Everything from concept design development to quality control.” He noticed both her hands pressed against her lower abdomen and that she was gritting her teeth. She must be hurting. Hell, his own need to couple ate at him like a bad case of the space bug virus. He cleared his throat and forced himself to continue. “My youngest three brothers are Shome, Redell and Faolan. They’re still in school.” A pain-filled moan escaped Achelle. Her body tensed, her eyes slammed shut and her legs opened so she could straddle his leg, rubbing her most sensitive place against his thigh as her need to couple intensified. Reason receded. Deep in his throat, he growled, his need to couple demanding he take her. Now. Now. Now. Her back arched, thrusting her breasts into the air while her hips, as if of their own accord, undulated. He cupped her hips in his hands as she rode his broad leg. Her scent increased, suffocating him in the most intoxicating smell he’d ever been exposed to. With a frustrated growl, she tore off her panties and bunched her skirts up around her waist so that the only barrier between her moist core and his leg was the fine, breathable material of his trousers. Cursing, he checked the remaining time for the flight even while he palmed her ass.
When Samius groaned and shifted beneath her, the pleasure that ripped through her body was like nothing she had ever known. What’s wrong with me? The only answer she received was her body demanding she find release. A sob breached her lips as Samius cupped her bottom and then slid his hands around her waist and up beneath her loose cotton shirt. With each press and roll, she whimpered.
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His hands found her breast-band and folded up the stretchy material. He exposed her breasts and rolled her tight nipples between thumbs and forefingers. A thrill went through her at the thought that she was making love to this man, that Samius, who she knew so little about, would be her first lover. And oh how she wanted him. She didn’t know why or how it happened but she was consumed by him, needed him inside her. Without any inhibition, Achelle reached behind her and pressed her palm against his erection. The length of him twitched against her fingers. The head of him nudged her palm as if asking her to release him from his pants. He nipped her ear before hissing, “If you continue to touch me there, Mate, there will be no turning back. No postponing the inevitable. Do you understand this?” Shit. She lifted her hand and pressed it once more to her stomach, trying to ease the pain that cramped her muscles and demanded she have sex with a stranger. Here she had been avoiding selling her body and now she found she would sell her soul for the feel of Samius’ tongue thrusting into her mouth, the slow slide of his cock opening her feminine walls to make room for his length and girth as he pumped hard and fast. Standing, she took a deep, calming breath and righted her breast-band, shirt and skirt. The clenching between her thighs made her cry out. A tear snaked down her cheek. Samius’ rich voice filled the cabin with curses. He snatched her up, twirled her around and set her, facing him, on his lap. In a last-ditch effort, she pressed her palms against his chest and halfheartedly tried to push him away, but his green-blue eyes met hers and she froze under his passionate gaze. He captured her mouth in a scorching kiss that went on and on, his tongue thrusting, his chocolaty taste filling her mouth, making her moan, his hands seating her so that his large erection teased her swollen lower lips.
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She dug her nails into his broad shoulders when his fingers sought her center and sank into the wet folds of her sex, slid up to her tight little bud and teased the nerve-rich area. When he pressed a long finger into the tight channel of her body, she bucked and cried out, riding his hand as his finger mimicked the thrust of his tongue. Just as her pleasure took wing, he withdrew. His tongue. His finger. His self. Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. How dare he bring her body to the pinnacle of pleasure and then abandon her, leaving her empty and in need. How dare he— “Oh!” He stood with her in his arms, locked the controls and then laid her on the panel. With a quick yank her skirt was pulled up and she was left exposed to his heated gaze. His tongue darted out and he licked his lips as a deep growl emanated from his throat. He knelt, positioned her legs over his shoulders and lowered his head to the aching, weeping center of her body. Before she could wince in embarrassment, Samius let out a guttural growl that rolled through the tiny ship like thunder. As she waited for the first touch of his mouth, her body tensed, her heartbeat tripped and pounded out a rhythm of unadulterated need. “Your scent makes demands of me.” His whisper rushed out in a blast of heat that sent her inner thighs tingling. “Mmm,” was all she could manage in response as she clenched the edge of the control panel, an intense wave of painful need rolling through her once more. “I’d rather die than watch you suffer, not when I can alleviate your pain.” She dug her heels into his shoulder blades and dragged him closer with a whimper. He smoothed his fingers over her hips, her thighs, then slowed to outline the glossy slit between her legs. She moaned, her head falling back and thumping the hard control panel. She wanted to shout at him to hurry the hells up but bit her lip to stay silent.
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At last he licked the seam of her lips, kissing the heart of her body. Their cries of enthusiasm harmonized, creating a lovers’ duet. She released the panel and slid her hands over her breasts, down her belly, to cradle his head. His short, prickly hair tickled her palms. The soft, smooth press of his lips shattered her shyness. “Please,” she begged. “I need you.” He lifted his head, gave her a feral smile and then pounced. He aggressively laved and sucked. First flattening his tongue, spreading her wide for his licks. Then swirling and sucking. Then narrowing his tongue to pierce her, thrusting in fast little stabs that started her pelvis rocking to meet him. Her thighs hugged his head, holding him to her as she thrust against his mouth, sighing and whimpering. Her body winding up and up. He clutched her thighs and spread her legs apart, giving him room to engulf her completely. His tongue flicked at her sex, driving her high fast. The intensity of what she felt frightened her. She sobbed her passion, cried her fear. He released her legs and blindly found her hands to give a reassuring squeeze. Tears prickled her eyes at his kind gesture. Achelle’s mother had passed on many lessons that she had learned as a prostitute. But never once had she said or even alluded to the possibility that the male might concern himself with the female’s feelings during the sex act. His kindness gave credence to her odd trust in him…at least where her body was concerned, because to say she was in good hands was an understatement. He threaded his fingers through hers, still kneeling between her legs, looking so large in comparison to her slight frame—his broad shoulders supporting and extending her legs, his shaved head nodding over her as lips pressed to lips. Almost there. Her body coiled. Pleasure ready to strike. Talented tongue against tingling folds.
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If not for his hands in hers, she wouldn’t have been able to bear the shattering of her body when he broke her open and spilled her pleasure into his mouth. “Samius!” she shouted.
Her orgasm was ambrosia. Her voice an erotic cacophony of whimpers and moans. And the sight of her body shuddering with ecstatic spasms—indescribable. Samius stood and stripped her cheap, rough clothes from her rich, languid body, revealing her belly and breasts, her hips and mound. All beautiful to behold. All begging to be touched. Against his better judgment, his clothing joined hers in a rumpled heap on the pilot’s chair while the autopilot flew the ship. They weren’t going to make it home in time. Even if he could control his instinct to couple—and it was important that he did— Achelle already showed signs of discomfort once more, her muscles tensing, the heels of her hands pressing down hard above her pelvic bone, the dreamy, satisfied look in her eyes turning hard, reflecting her ache. “I-I think I’m sick.” She levered herself up on her forearms. Her lower lip quivered as she blinked back tears. When she saw the health pack sealed to the wall, she asked, “Do you have anything for cramps? I think I caught a space bug at the station when I tripped over a trash bot.” “You’re not sick, Achelle. Medicine can’t help you.” Her exquisite celestial face crumpled, her wide-set eyes searching his face for deception. “You need me inside you,” he said softly. “Use your inner eye to examine your body and you’ll see that I’m right.” A wave of the coupling need rolled over her and slammed into him. He took in a shallow, shaky breath and fisted his hands to stop himself from taking her. He needed his brothers to bear witness; he needed to wait until they arrived home.
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“You’re right,” she moaned. “I don’t know why but I need you. Gods, I need you.” Satisfaction spread through him, washing away the reasons he needed to wait. “You accept me within your body as your mortal mate?” Another wave pulled her under and she hissed, tears shining in her eyes. He bent down and brought their faces close together so that all she could see was him. “You accept me as your mortal mate?” he asked again with desperation. Tears overflowed her magenta eyes to dampen her pale-blonde hair. She nodded. “Then take me in your hands and guide me into your body.” Timidly, she did as he demanded. Her small hand wrapped around his shaft and everything inside him went still. He felt as if time had slowed. The days of his life piled up behind this day like a stack of expired credits. Soft and sweet, she guided him to her center. The slight tremor in her arm told him what she tried to hide behind her lowered gaze. She was nervous, frightened of their coupling, but resigned to the fact that she needed him. When the head of his cock kissed the entrance to her body, her hold loosened, her legs inching closed. Refusing to lose ground, Samius straightened and pressed forward, slipping the first inch or so inside the gorgeous core that belonged to his mate. She gripped him tight—nature guiding her body when her mind shied away—and rippled around him. As he pushed forward, he pulsed inside her. Fully seated, he stilled, allowing her body to adjust to his length and width. “Wrap your legs around me, Mate,” he said. Panting, she locked her ankles at the base of his back and looked up at him with shy but lusty eyes. The sight of her spread out before him, holding him inside her lithe little body, sent bolts of lightning zigzagging from the top of his head to his balls. Deep in his throat, a growl of satisfaction rumbled. He bent down to taste her mouth, slipping his tongue between the seam of her lips and coaxing her tongue to taste
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him as well. When at last her tongue darted into his mouth, he deepened the kiss, glorying in her acceptance of him. He cupped her breasts in his hands and ran his thumbs over her nipples in perfect synchronization. Her back arched up off the console, straining for more of his teasing touches. She made small mewling noises that broke their kiss and sent the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck on end. Achelle reached between their legs and stroked his sac while her inner muscles clenched and unclenched around him. With a fierce shout, Samius coated Achelle’s inner walls with pre-cum, unlocking the last vestiges of reasonable restraint. The coupling drive was in full swing. For both of them. From this moment forward, Achelle’s mind would run on instinct only until she was completely bonded to him and his family. For the first time, he envied his friends who had all sisters. When they found their mate, they would only need to watch as their sisters bit her. Samius remembered his friend from school, Sceor. The male had no siblings, no one to bond to his mate, no one to share with even for one day. Samius withdrew until just the very tip of the wide head of his cock remained buried inside her. She whimpered and writhed and raked her nails over his skin. Leaning over her, he licked the top of her breast, right over her heart, and bit while slamming into her hard. She screamed, her lust-crazed voice calling to him to bring her release. And he complied, driving into her fast and deep, holding her open to him as he savaged her body, marking her, making her his. She bucked beneath him, yelling, shattering, tears spilling down her face, her heels digging into his ass, her nails clawing at his hands and wrists, demanding more, demanding everything. He gave her all he had, bringing her to orgasm countless times, holding her to him as she fell apart in his arms. Her internal muscles gripped him, milked him, made him groan. 28
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“Harder,” she demanded. With a growl, he withdrew, stood her up, spun her around and bent her over the console. Knocking her legs open, he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head up and stretching her long neck as he pounded into her. She met him thrust for thrust, panted her desire as he drove into her. Her body quaked. Her legs gave out. He lost his rhythm and came once more, spilling his seed, drenching her womb. Her body went limp and she would have slid to the floor if his hips weren’t pinning her to the console. He leaned over and smiled at what he saw. His mortal mate had passed out. Surely that meant he had done his job. And then some. He scooped her up in his arms and sank into the pilot’s chair. ETA—twenty-two minutes. Samius prayed to the gods in all seven heavens that his mate remained unconscious until they arrived home.
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Chapter Four Cannan examined the large emerald that the foreman had brought him while his younger brothers pored over the sapphires, aquamarines, garnets, rubies and quartz crystals. The other gems were of good quality and would sell well but this one—the largest emerald he had ever seen—was flawless. Deciding to make it his pet project, he pocketed the stone—to the ribbing of his brothers. “There he goes again,” Shome said, his brown eyes full of laughter, “Hoarding another stone for his nonexistent mate when we could make a fortune off it at market.” Redell punched Shome in the arm as Faolan said, “Leave him alone. It’s not as if we’re hurting for credit.” Cannan preferred Shome’s teasing to his other brothers’ protective defense. He knew why they defended his pathetic habit of hoarding the biggest and most beautiful stones—the accident he’d suffered in the deep mines two months ago had left him permanently and hideously scarred. Chances were if he ever found his mortal mate, he’d never convince her to bond with him. Not even with all the gems in the galaxy to dazzle her eyes and distract her from the ugly pitted and discolored skin on his face, neck and chest. He reached over to lock the rest of the jewels in the stone safe and froze midmotion. The room went quiet. He slowly turned, tilted his head to the side and sniffed. A tantalizing perfume wafted from the far hall that connected the intake room they were currently in to the main living room in their home. He grew instantly hard, his cock straining against the seam in his pants. One look around the room showed that his brothers had scented her too—Sam had found his mortal mate and brought her home to complete the coupling to bind his mate to his family. 30
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As the second oldest, he was in charge. Cannan’s younger brothers waited for him to move, panting their desire but keeping their feet rooted to the floor. Seconds passed. The brothers began to growl their frustration. But Cannan was waiting on a word from Sam. At last Sam’s strained voice sounded over the intercom. “Where the fuck is everyone?” They bolted, Cannan leading the way with his brothers stepping on his heels and tripping over their clothing as they stripped while running down the hall. By the time they reached the living room they were naked, their stiff cocks rudely pointing at the wildly flailing female in Sam’s scratched arms. Cannan had the thought that she was like a feral cat surrounded by a pack of horny dogs and felt sorry for her until he saw her dip two fingers between her lush thighs and bring them glistening to Sam’s mouth as she moaned and writhed against him. She wanted him and he was a package deal. “How long has the coupling drive been on her?” he asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Almost two hours.” Sam sucked her offered fingers into his mouth and licked the digits clean. “We coupled in the ship without witness.” “Was the cabin camera on?” Errol and Essar asked at the same time, something they did often, to the annoyance of their brothers. “Yes,” Sam said. “Then we can review it later to bear witness to your first coupling but right now she needs relief,” Cannan said. As second oldest, he should join with her next. “What is your mate’s name, Sam?” “Achelle.” Sam took a step back as Cannan stepped forward. “She is lovely.” Cannan studied his older brother, using their familial link to read his emotional grid. The male was just as far gone as his mate, his mind centered on
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claiming her for himself. Never mind that tradition and biology dictated that his brothers become minor mates to his female to ensure her ability to reproduce and bond them to her as her protectors, therefore ensuring the survival of their race. “Do you wish to bring your mate into our family?” Cannan asked as the younger brothers surrounded them, stroking their cocks, growling their desire. “Yes,” Sam hissed. Cannan held open his arms. “Give her to me. I will place my mark over yours. I will release my seed inside her to mix with yours to ready her womb for young.” Sam’s body trembled. “I can’t. I…can’t.” Cannan cursed under his breath. “In The Book of Rane, it says that if too much time passes between the marking from the main mate and the marking from the minor mates—” “I read that passage too!” Sam shouted over Achelle’s cries as she damn near convulsed in his arms, her mating scent thick enough to choke on. “I know why I’m acting possessive. And I know if all of you don’t couple with her and mark her, she might become barren.” He blinked back tears. “I didn’t say you can’t take her. I said I can’t give her to you. Understand?” Cannan frowned. “You want me to take her from you forcibly and mate her against your will?” “Yes! Do it now, Cannan. Do it before I lock her in my rooms. Do it before I have to drug away her pain. Do it before I make my mate barren.” “She looks part human. Was she raised with Rane customs? Does she understand the ritual?” “She doesn’t have to understand. Look at her. Her body knows what is right.” Achelle writhed and moaned, obviously out of her mind with need. Samius leveled his gaze on Cannan. “Just as your body knows what is right too.”
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Cannan stepped up and grabbed Achelle. Sam roared, tightening his hold on his mate. Cannan punched him in the jaw, knocking him out cold. As Sam slumped to the floor, Cannan snatched Achelle from his brother’s limp arms and carried her to the nearest bedroom. Her moon-shaped face and large magenta eyes were breathtaking. Her lithe, petite body a vision to behold. But her beauty only emphasized Cannan’s ugliness. He felt like a hideous monster about to defile the fair maiden. Not wanting to subject her to the massive scar tissue that covered a good portion of his body, he set her on her hands and knees on the bed and kneeled behind her. She was sobbing with need now. Desperate to couple with her minor mates, her body undulating, her sweet voice choking on her tears. When she attempted to turn to look at him, Cannan gripped the back of her head and forced her to look at the headboard instead. She didn’t like that, twisting away from his grasp. He released her, not wanting to harm the female. “Shome—” “Got her.” As usual Shome knew exactly what Cannan wanted. He knelt in front of Achelle, cradled her head in his hands and brought his cock up to her lips. That caught her attention. Achelle licked her lips before sucking the broad, mushroom-shaped head into her mouth. Cannan took advantage of her distraction, burying himself inside her moist heat with one forceful stroke. He closed his eyes as he shuddered in ecstasy at the feel of her gripping him tight. She thrust back, taking him deeper, squeezing him tighter. He groaned long and loud. “Is it as good as you imagined?” Shome asked in a breathy voice.
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Cannan opened his eyes to watch the female glide her lips down Shome’s shaft then up to swirl her tongue over the glistening slit at the tip of his brother’s rock-hard dick. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “So much better.” And it was. The line of females he’d fucked in the past had been poor substitutes for a mortal mate. He might as well have been servicing himself as partnering with a female who did not belong to their family. Achelle growled around the length of Shome in her mouth and thrust backward again, trying for relief. Her body knew she needed the seed and bite of her mate’s brothers in order to complete her bond and produce offspring. Cannan knew he was freezing up because he’d been celibate since his accident two months ago and Achelle was so far beyond his experience and expectation. Again Shome seemed to read his emotions. “She needs you, my brother, and so does Sam. Let yourself go. Release into her. If not for you, then for her and Sam.” Cannan took Achelle’s hips in his hands and found a rhythm that satisfied his brother’s mate. With every instinct he had shouting at him that this was right, he was surprised that he still felt awkward and on edge. Achelle gave no outward sign that she felt the same way. Her human modesty must be buried under the thick layers of lust from the Rane bonding ritual. His brother’s mate matched him thrust for thrust while sucking Shome until her orgasm burst over her and she screamed her release. He gripped her hard. His balls tightened and he shouted—a long, loud curse. Satisfaction filled him as he planted his seed inside his brother’s mate. This was what it meant to be family. This was what it meant to bond and belong. The feeling of family was so strong he had to withdraw from Achelle before he made a fool of himself and started blubbering like a newborn. Shome withdrew from her mouth, giving Cannan room to maneuver the female on to her back and bite her directly over her heart. 34
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Achelle fought him, screaming, crying, punching at his head, which was a female’s natural response to bonding, just as it was Samius’ natural response to resent his brothers as they bonded to his mate. Cannan refused to release her until he felt the bond forming between them sliding into place, as if she had always held a position in his heart and he simply had not known it. Only when he let her go did he realize that Shome had pinned her arms to the bed. Shome released her and positioned Achelle on her hands and knees once more. Cannan gave his younger brother a wolfish smile before jumping down from the bed and nodding to the twins.
The twins moved as if their bodies and not just their minds were one. Errol took Shome’s place in front of her while Essar blanketed her body from behind. Achelle’s beautiful magenta eyes flashed from one to the other. A warning growl made the column of her throat vibrate with sound. She was pissed from the bite Cannan had given her, the twins decided, and would not make it easy on them to mate with her. They smiled. There was nothing they loved more than a good challenge and the twins had no doubt that they would earn screams of pleasure from their brother’s mate. As if they had practiced the move a thousand times, Errol hooked his hands under Achelle’s arms and pulled her into his lap, spreading her legs with his knees and driving up into her while Essar knelt between both of their legs and guided the bulbous head of his cock into her from the front. She growled and thrashed, fighting to throw them out of her but at the same time grabbing at them and gyrating her hips. Errol had a good hold of her arms and both brothers pinned her legs open and up. Growling his satisfaction as her body slowly adjusted to accept them both, Essar inched into her tight pussy until he and his brother were balls-deep. Then the males
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waited, unmoving, for the female to calm. They would not proceed until she wanted them, no matter how much she needed them. Errol closed his eyes and silently counted backward from one hundred. He heard Essar doing the same through their mind link. Buried deep inside Sam’s mate, unable to move, unwilling to release until they brought her pleasure, was the best kind of torture and the worst kind of ecstasy. Little by little Achelle settled between them, her harsh breathing slowed, her body stilled. With a sweet little sigh, she rested her feet on Errol’s thick thighs and began to move. A roar blasted through the room. Achelle jerked in their arms. Her heartbeat skipped and sped. Errol and Essar opened their eyes to see Sam fighting off Shome and Redell to reach his mortal mate. Cannan, who stood apart, bared his teeth and growled at all of them as if to say they were an embarrassment. Sam twisted his arm free of Redell’s grasp and slammed a fist into the center of Shome’s face. Shome’s nose flattened as blood exploded to spray Sam and Redell in the face. Choking on blood, Shome shouted, “Finish it! Now!” Achelle whimpered, a high, strangled sound. Errol felt Essar’s reluctant acceptance that they no longer had the benefit of time. If they were going to couple with Achelle, they would have to fuck her quickly and leave their mark before Sam broke free and murdered them. With a dramatic sigh of regret that made Errol chuckle, Essar began to thrust. Errol matched his pace, burying his nose in the female’s soft, fragrant hair, ignoring the bloody fight taking place a few feet from the bed but unable to disregard the tears that wet his lips when he kissed Achelle’s neck. The female is crying.
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He grimaced and met the mirror of Essar’s blue-green eyes. A million times they had imagined coupling with a mortal mate. Not once did they imagine their loving being met with tears. Better she yelled and thrashed. Better she fought and bit and bucked to throw them out of her. Errol released her arms and reached around to gently cup her breasts and tease her nipples. Essar slid his hand down her soft little tummy to caress her clit. Even with the threat of a hard-core beat-down by their eldest brother, they could not take pleasure from a female without giving in return. Slowly but surely her breathing changed once more and she began to move with them, gripping their cocks in her tight little sheath, angling her body so that she could take more of them into her. Her tears dried to leave her eyes clouded with passion instead of fear. The thrill of satisfaction the twins felt at not only taming their brother’s mate but winning her acceptance with Sam in the room pushed them over the edge. They came together, as they did all things, spurting off inside Achelle, bonding to her as minor mates. Still inside her, Essar laid his mark over her heart while Errol slid out from under her to do the same. She growled and tried to pull away as they sank their teeth into her tender flesh. When they finished laying their marks, this time instead of inflaming her anger, the bites inflamed her passion. She groaned and arched off the bed, thrusting her breasts against Errol’s chest, running her hand down the muscled expanse of Essar’s chest. The twins regretfully pulled back, knowing this was the last time they would couple with Achelle. They had done their duty, bonding her to them through sex and mark. They would serve as her protectors ever more but her lovers never again. Orgasm quickly fading, the coupling drive began to overtake the female. Essar and Errol left the bed with big smiles on their identical faces, making room for Shome who was next. 37
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Shome waited until Faolan took his place helping to hold back Sam before he joined Achelle on the bed. As soon as his knees hit the mattress she rolled to her knees, mirroring his stance. Sam’s presence seemed to calm her instead of upset her now but her eyes remained glazed over by the coupling drive that made her act on instinct instead of reason or emotion. Hips undulating, she looked from Sam to Shome’s bloodied face and licked her lips. Shome didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign. Did Sam’s mate want to eat him or eat him? She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled across the rumpled bed, ass in the air, gaze zeroing in on his hard dick instead of his bloody nose. Well, that’s a relief, he thought as she ducked her head and swallowed him to the back of her throat to hold him there for an endless moment. His head fell back and he blinked at the ceiling as the female cupped his balls in one hand, his shaft in the other, and sucked him slowly. Just the way he liked it, he decided. And to think he’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to perform to her satisfaction. She seemed satisfied to take control of his body and please herself with him as she saw fit. With a gasp of surprise, Shome found himself knocked on his ass. Achelle presented him with her back…and ass. He bit his lip as she kneeled over him and guided his cock inside her. Damn if he didn’t grow even harder. Fully seated, she leaned forward on her arms and began to ride him. Slowly at first. Then she picked up the rhythm and took him fast and shallow. His body naturally moved with hers, thrusting up into her as she rolled her hips, her ass flexing and softening, flexing and softening. Hesitantly, he gripped her waist. When she didn’t take his head off for that, he cupped her ass. Sam cursed him to the seven hells and lunged at him but Faolan and Redell held him back. Achelle didn’t flinch. Instead she glanced over her shoulder at Shome with a sly smile, clenched her inner muscles around his cock and swiveled her hips. Shome 38
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instantly came, slamming up into her again and again, strangling the sheets with his hands. When at last she’d milked him dry, he lay beneath her, catching his breath and trying to recapture his sanity. There was still the matter of adding his mark over her heart. He choked on a prayer sent right to the seventh god in the seventh house when Achelle moved over him, offering her flesh, which already carried the marks of his four older brothers. Relief and pride filled him that his brother’s mate offered what the others were forced to take. She genuinely seemed to like him, which was probably why Sam fought so hard to get at Shome. In the end it took Errol, Essar and Cannan to subdue Sam, who only stopped fighting when Essar elbowed him in the temple, knocking him out again. The two youngest, Redell and Faolan, looked sick with worry, their skin pasty white and their eyes wide as if they’d just seen their own deaths. Shome swallowed a laugh, knowing his usual joking manner would not be appreciated in this situation. Instead he suggested, “Not to ruin your time with Sam’s mortal mate but I think you two might want to double up like Errol and Essar did because when Sam wakes he’s going to be angrier than ever.” Redell blinked at him as if he was having trouble deciphering the meaning of his words. Shome turned to Faolan, who was watching Achelle writhe on the bed with something akin to panic on his face.
Redell couldn’t believe the time for him to lose the big V had finally come. He swallowed convulsively as he approached the bed with Faolan right beside him. Thank the seven great gods that he didn’t have to do this alone, otherwise he might go limpdick and pass the fuck out. Achelle was gorgeous and her sweet, succulent scent called to him but images of his mortal mate flashed through his mind, silently tearing out his guts. They had met three 39
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years ago when he’d been sixteen and she fifteen. From the moment he’d scented her, he’d recognized her as his mate. Having been born into a full-blooded Rane family, she had recognized him as her mate also. He closed his eyes against the bruising pain. She had rejected him. Flat out. Hadn’t wanted him. She ran to prevent the bond between them from forming but even with just the one brief meeting, she owned a piece of him and he a piece of her. His heart thumped hard as he approached Sam’s mate, wondering if she would deny him as well. Maybe something was wrong with him. Maybe he was born with some internal flaw that females could sense in him. A terrible abnormality that he would pass on to his young. Was that why his mate had run from him? Oh gods, what if he impregnated Sam’s mate and she birthed a deformed young who died in its cradle? That was impossible of course. She was infertile until all seven brothers coupled with her, completing the familial bond. Then only Sam would be intimate with her. “Dell!” Faolan punched him in the shoulder. “You with me?” Redell breathed deep. Behind him one of his brothers chuckled. He looked from Achelle, crouched panting on the bed, to Faolan, whose muscles were coiled tight, reminding him of a wolf ready to pounce. “Should we…take her like Err and Ess did?” Redell asked. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” Cannan slapped both of them on the backs of their heads. “We don’t have all night. Get your asses in bed.” Gritting his teeth, Dell climbed onto the mattress, Faolan beside him. Achelle looked from one to the other and let out something that sounded like a hiss. He glanced at Cannan for guidance. His brother growled and rolled his eyes. “Just watch what Faolan does and do the same.”
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He turned back to the bed to find Faolan guiding her head to the mattress and tugging open her legs. When she tried to lift her head and twist away from him, Faolan wrapped an arm around her small waist and held her in place as he drove into her from behind. She reached back and raked her nails over his arms. With a curse, he released her waist and grabbed her wrists. He pulled her arms up and back, cuffing her, using her arms as leverage to pound into her. His dominant display seemed to win her over. She moaned and thrust back against Faolan. In no time at all, her toes curled off the bed and she screamed her release, her body convulsing as the youngest brother came inside her. When he released her, she rolled over with a satisfied smile on her face and offered him her heart. Faolan added his bite to the others then licked down to her nipple to suck and nip at the little bud. “We don’t have time for that,” Shome said from where he stood over Sam, who twitched and moaned on the floor. “Finish this so Sam can be with his mortal mate, Dell.” As Redell crawled over to the female, he prayed he wouldn’t have to restrain her or fight to stay inside her while she tried to throw him out. After nearly nightly fantasies of coupling with his mate, taking her softly and sweetly, showing her that she’d made a mistake when she rejected him, Redell couldn’t bear the thought of living out his nightmare of his mate tempting him, teasing him, then throwing him out of her, biting and scratching him, rejecting him over and over again. Achelle didn’t move. Instead she lay passively on her back, looking up at him with her amazing magenta eyes. Her legs were closed and instead of forcing them open, he straddled her thighs to sink down over her. She watched, waited him out as if she knew her slightest movement might scare him away. Redell leaned forward on his arms and kissed her softly, a simple press of lips against lips. She kissed him back, just as softly, her mouth moving under his. When he lifted his head, she gave a little sigh that did more to turn him on than anything he’d heard or 41
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seen so far. Shifting his weight to one arm, he reached between them and guided his cock inside her sheath. His penetration was shallow in this position but she didn’t seem to mind. She rubbed against him and moaned each time he thrust, her breath catching as he angled himself so that the top of his shaft glided up and down her clit. Dropping his head to her shoulder, he inhaled her unique scent and kissed her moist skin. She turned her head and nuzzled him, murmuring nonsense words that held no meaning but meant everything to him. He blinked fast, preventing his tears from falling and humiliating himself in front of his brothers. With a loud moan, Achelle shuddered. He was sure that it was simply instinct that had her wrapping her arms around him and pulling him against her so they were chest to breast, but the intimacy of their position squeezed at his heart. As he came, he remembered to bite her over her heart, marking her as theirs. And for a fleeting, wretched moment he wished Achelle was his and not Sam’s. Although he quickly shoved the betraying thought away, he could not uproot the feelings of love for his brother’s mate that had bloomed in his heart. Refusing to give action to his emotion, he quickly abandoned the bed and kept his back to her as he asked, “We all finished here?” “Yeah, let’s get Sam into bed with her and leave them to complete their bond over the next three days,” Shome said. Essar and Errol pulled Sam up and shoved him onto the bed. Achelle hummed her approval and wrapped her lithe body around her mate’s, resting her head on his chest and stroking his face, chest and abdomen. When her hand slid lower, the brothers seemed to agree simultaneously that it was time for them to leave. Everything was as it should be.
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Chapter Five The rich, earthy smell of fresh caff brewing brought Achelle awake to thin lines of sunlight piercing partially drawn blinds. The hard nude body at her naked back brought her out of bed and across the room. She stumbled backward. Her arms pinwheeled and she slammed against the far wall. The male was out of bed and across the room before she could blink, gripping her forearms and pulling her up against him, which flattened her breasts against his chest and pressed his erection into her stomach. Damn. Flushing, she pulled away from him to thump against the wall again. This time when he reached out to steady her, he left space between them. Fast learner. She looked up into Samius Pherein’s possessive green-blue eyes…and screamed. Full-throated, hands fisted, screamed. When she ran out of breath, she took another and raged at him. “How dare you, you liar, you wretched piece of space trash! You made me trust you, like you, and for what? To turn me into your whore?” She beat at him with her fists as well as her words. He flinched under her attack but didn’t retreat. And when at last her strength ran out and her words slid together, no longer making sense, she sank to the floor and wept. She had become what she’d promised her mother she would never be. Faces of the men she’d fucked last night flashed in her mind, burning her eyes, breaking her heart. How could she? And like it—no, love it?
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He’d drugged her. That had to be the reason for her voracious sexual appetite, for her lack of inhibition— “No.” Samius kneeled down in front of her and took her face in his hands. “I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. I didn’t make you a whore, I made you my wife. I didn’t drug you, what you felt last night was your body’s natural reaction to finding me, your mate.” “My mate?” She rubbed away her tears with the heel of her hands. “What the hell are you talking about?” “You are Rane, Achelle, or at least part Rane. Our race is biologically programmed to recognize our mortal mates, our spouses, like I recognized you at the station. And you recognized me too. Otherwise I doubt you would’ve trusted me enough to leave with me.” She brought her knees up to her chest, covering herself and forcing Samius to give her more space. “I made a mistake in trusting you. Obviously you’re a liar. I was desperate and stupid, that’s why I left with you. I needed a job.” He ran his hands over the stubble on his head. “You’re wrong. If you look inside yourself you’ll see—” “See what?” She lifted her hands palms out and noticed that they were shaking. The tremor grew and moved up her arms to shudder through her body. “That you’re my mate? Yeah, you must really be devoted to me giving me to all those men.” All long lines and smooth muscle, he stood and paced away. “Last night was the Rane coupling ritual.” He turned to her and let out a heavy sigh as his gaze dropped to her chest. “Those men are my brothers and your protectors. They coupled with you and marked you, which bonded you to our family and ensured your fertility.” Achelle placed a hand over her heart and felt dozens of small scars that made a circular pattern. Even though she didn’t want it, a feeling of rightness, of belonging permeated her psyche as she traced the circular scars with her fingertips. Her racing
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heart slowed and a feeling of calm swept away her anger and fear, allowing her to consider last night clearly. A million questions sounded in her mind, but when she looked up at Samius, she didn’t have to ask them. His answers were there to pluck from his mind. He told her with his thoughts that her ability to see into him was part of the benefit of bonding. What’s more, he believed everything he’d told her. She shied away from the love she felt from him, the compassion and understanding, the regret that he’d frightened her. And then there was his lust, or the “coupling drive” as he called it, which would level off in a few days, no longer demanding they spend days in bed, coming together, reinforcing their bond. He thought her beautiful. Her gaze jumped to meet his. He had never wanted a female the way he wanted her. And she could use that. His love and lust were just waiting for her to take advantage of. Sliding up the wall to a standing position, Achelle kept her eyes on him. “How will you take advantage of my feelings for you, Mate?” Startled, she gasped. She should have realized that the mind link worked both ways. Recovering from the shock quickly, she lowered her gaze to his semihard cock and licked her lips.
Sam didn’t question the sudden change in his mate’s mood. They were just beginning their three-day bonding. If she wanted to take advantage of his hard-on, he sure as hell wasn’t going to discourage her. He’d much rather couple than fight. It didn’t matter that they’d come together again and again last night after his brothers had left.
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They belonged in the three-day bonding bed and then together forever. Ranes mated for life. At that moment, Sam’s mate pushed off the wall and sauntered to him, her hips rolling so she moved in a seductive glide. His gaze lifted to her plush breasts, her nipples hard and begging for his hands and mouth. When she reached him, standing a finger-width away, she shocked him by pressing her hands to his chest and sliding down his body to kneel on the floor, her head level to his cock. She looked up, met his eyes and licked her lips. Then she ducked her head and licked him from the tip of his head down his shaft, flicked and sucked on his balls. He cupped her head in his hands as she kissed her way up his shaft. When she blew on his oversensitive skin, he buried his fingers in her hair and held her to him as he fucked her face. “Open your mouth wider,” he prompted as he thrust. She complied and allowed him to move at his own pace, change from deep to shallow, fast to slow. When he moved deep, she swallowed him to the back of her throat. When he moved shallow, she wrapped one hand around his shaft and used the other to massage his balls. Because of the mind link, she knew what would please him most, just as he knew when she began to tire. He withdrew to pull her up into his arms, where she rubbed against him from hips to breasts with a delicate purr that reverberated through his body like a siren’s song. The pout in her parted lips seduced him into a kiss that tasted of their future together. The grip of her hand as she stroked his cock brought him back to the present. Holding her hips, he walked them back to the bed where she pushed him backward. He hit the mattress. She stood over him, feet planted wide, hands on hips, all seductress until one reached her magenta eyes, which were opened wide and framed by raised eyebrows. 46
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“Achelle?” She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and climbed up on the bed to straddle his hips. He reached for her through their mind link but her nervous need blocked out anything else she might be feeling or thinking. All he felt of her emotions was uneasy desire. All he heard of her thoughts was tense need. She took him in an inch at a time, enveloping him with her heat, allowing him access to her body when she refused him entrance to her mind. Eyes closed, hair spilling all around her in a golden curtain, she gripped him tight and began to move, rolling her hips. Sam watched her graceful, sensual movements, mesmerized by her beauty and the amazing fact that she was his mate. He drove up into her, gripping her hips then sliding his hands up to cup her small, high breasts. Her breathy moans and sighs filled the room, growing louder, more intense with each thrust. He slid his hands back down to her hips to help her pick up the rhythm and ride him as fast and hard as she wanted. She came on a curse, gripping him tight. He rolled so she was under him and found his own release as he watched her shudder beneath him. As soon as he came, he was hard again. She looked up at him, her brows coming together, her lower lip caught between her teeth. He could feel her surprise through their mind link. “You are my mortal mate. I will always want you—no matter how recent our last coupling.” He leaned down and licked at her bottom lip until she released it from the bite of her teeth. The kiss he gave her started soft but she took over, turning it hard, aggressive. Damn if she didn’t taste like highest heaven. Damn if she didn’t suck his tongue into her mouth as if he tasted every bit as good.
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Without a conscious decision, he began to move over her, inside her. She was so slick, so tight. She scratched her nails down his back to embed them in his butt, urging him to go deeper. He reared back, braced her legs against his body and drove into her. She arched off the bed, coming immediately. He smiled at the sight of her enraptured face, her hair tangled around her making her look wild, exotic, feral. When she began to quiet, he reached between her legs and teased her clit. Light, soft caresses at first. He became more insistent with his strokes when he felt her reach her peak once more. They came together, each shouting the other’s name, both riding their passion so high they fought to breathe. The afterglow dazzled like a supernova, outshining everything before fading over what might have been minutes or years. When he finally grew cognizant of his surroundings, he found all six of his brothers crowding around the bed. With an angry growl, he pulled the covers over his mate. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He glared at them as Achelle pulled the covers even higher to hide her head. Cannan cleared his throat and said, “We’ve been trying to reach you over the intercom—” “My mate and I are in our three-day bonding bed. Has it been three days?” He made sure his question was loaded with sarcasm but truth be told, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if the answer was yes. He felt as though he might’ve been in Achelle’s arms for hours or days. “There’s been another accident at the main mine,” Cannan said, his fingers sliding over the slick, rubbery scars on his face. With a full-body jolt, the male seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped his hand to his side. “Twelve mineworkers trapped.” “We wouldn’t disturb you,” Shome said, “but as head of the company we need—” “You don’t need to tell me my duties. I know what my job entails.” Sam tugged at the sheet covering Achelle’s face. After three hard pulls, the sheet ripped, revealing
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wary eyes. “Achelle, there are lives at stake. Otherwise I would not leave our bonding bed. I will return as soon as I can.” “I understand,” she said quietly, “and I don’t blame you.” He felt sincerity packed behind her words and an emotional undercurrent that he didn’t have time to examine. With another quick tug of the sheet, her mouth came into view. He leaned down and gave her a short, soft kiss before rolling from the bed. Unable to suppress a sigh of regret, he looked over his shoulder as he followed his brothers from the room. The bonding to his mortal mate had gone wrong from the start. First they’d coupled without witness. Now he was leaving their three-day bonding bed on the first day. Things were not going well. Up the stairs on the right, he entered his rooms, going straight to the cleanser. Under the hot rays of the cleanser beam, Sam mentally reached for Achelle through their mind link but she still kept him at a distance so he could only sense and hear farflung feelings and thoughts, nothing personal, nothing close to her heart. The cleanser beam blinked high then off. Sam stepped out of the chamber and headed for his closet. Selecting sturdy but worn mining clothes, he withdrew from his mind link with Achelle. He dressed quickly and met his brothers in the garage. Seeing him, they all climbed into their monster-sized moon transport and headed out toward the main mine. For Sam’s sake, Cannan flew the transport only a few yards above the desolate surface of Twellen Moon. The vehicle’s high beams flashed over the clusters of houses located in each living compound they’d built to house their workers. A couple hundred in all, the compounds were enveloped by enviro-shields that allowed the inhabitants to live in a copy of their home planet’s natural environment. Because of the diversity in the races of their mineworkers, the environments of the compounds were diverse as well. Sam wondered if his mate preferred the environment of her human half’s planet, Earth, or of her Rane half’s planet, Cohere. The environments were very similar but he would ask her preference when he returned home. 49
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The see-all was on, the small screen mounted on the dashboard showing live footage of the mining accident, moving from clips of the mine itself to the families of the mineworkers who were trapped. This is a disaster, he thought. “Agreed,” Essar and Errol said together. Sam shut down his mind link while giving his brothers a good glare. The last thing he needed was six other voices in his head as he tried to work the problem at the mine. Sometimes the familial bond was more of a pain than a pleasure. “Do we have a new plan?” Faolan asked from the back of the transport. He’d been at school when the mining accident occurred two months ago and they’d revised their emergency plan. “Each of you is assigned a section of the mine to gather information. You have one hour then report back to me at the control room with everything you’ve learned. We’ll decide on a course of action from there.” “How do we know which section—ouch!” Sam glanced into the panoramic rearview mirror just in time to see Dell punching Faolan on the arm. “We sent the new emergency plan to you at school. You were supposed to read it,” Dell said. “I was a little busy with finals and then rushing back home when you finally decided to tell me Cannan was hurt. Not a lot of time to review the new plan, okay.” “You’re an idiot,” Dell groused. “I second that,” Shome said. “Everyone shut the fuck up,” Sam said as Cannan pulled the transport into the cavernous main garage, which was filled with mineworkers, family members and reporters. “We’re here.”
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***** For the life of her, Achelle couldn’t figure out where she was in relation to where she wanted to be. The all-know panels flashed a map at her whenever she hit the autolocate button on the high-tech screens that were staggered around the house every dozen yards or so, but she couldn’t read a map worth crap. “Where is the garage?” she asked, tucking her hands into the pockets of the widebelted blue-and-brown-colored dress Samius had purchased for her at the station. “The main garage is located in subbasement two,” the all-know replied in an oversexualized female voice. The panel lit with a map again. “Can you direct me?” “Yes, please follow the blue arrows.” A fat arrow lit on the recessed ceiling a few yards ahead of where she stood in the hall. Achelle put one newly shod foot in front of the other, following the arrows and suppressing her guilt. Damn. Had she really seduced Samius in order to prevent him from reading her thoughts about leaving him? “No less than he deserved,” she mumbled, trying to reassure herself that she wanted to leave. Really she did. With a hard sigh, she stepped into a chute that rushed her to subbasement two on a stream of compressed air. Her long wavy hair twisted around her body like gold snakes as the skirt of her dress ballooned up around her boyish hips, and then her shoes clicked onto the slick surface of the highly shined floor as she landed softly in the subbasement. The smell of engine oil and afterburn hit her nose, making it burn and run the moment she stepped out of the chute. She sniffled, looking around the large garage crammed with surface, short- and long-distance ships. A group of maintenance bots congregated around one mid-sized ship, chirping and clicking at each other in their bot language. She gave them a wide berth. As long as she didn’t get in their way, they’d ignore her. 51
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I’m doing what I have to, Achelle thought. She decided to take the same flip ship she arrived in because the autopilot obviously worked. The rear door opened with a sibilant hiss. She stepped inside and the bright interior lights came on, making her blink as her eyes adjusted. If Samius had known she would try to leave, he would have locked her away or put a guard on her. All his talk about family bonding and mates was nothing more than manipulative lies meant to make her stay. And she’d made him think he’d succeeded. She squirmed around in the high-backed pilot’s seat, remembering how good he’d tasted, how wonderful he’d smelled, how amazing he’d felt as he made love to her. Starting up the twin engines, she let out a huff. No, not made love. Love had nothing to do with it…except her heart pounded as she thought of his mouth pressing against hers, soft and sweet and then hard and aggressive, his hard body moving over her, inside her. The heat in his eyes as he looked at her as if she were the only female in the universe, the tenor in his voice as he moaned her name, the taste of his tongue as it tangled with hers. She closed her eyes and groaned. Damn, he’d gotten to her. With a disgusted growl, she flew the ship up out of the garage only to be inundated with traffic. “What the—?” As dozens of sets of blinding headlights flashed around her, she hit inquiry on the flight-info box. A stilted computerized voice said, “Traffic heavy on Twellen due to incident at the moon’s main mine.” Ah, of course. Achelle entered the destination of Ploice Two and engaged the autopilot. As she left the bright and shining moon behind for the deep darkness of space, she rubbed her eyes. Her fingers came away wet and she cursed her stupidity.
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“I’m doing the right thing,” she assured herself. “He’s just as bad as Captain GrabAss—worse! At least the captain didn’t pretend to care about me.” Determined to act nonchalant, she slumped back into the hard chair, stretched her legs out to rest her feet on the dash, and stared out the view screen into fathomless darkness until the hum of the engines and the sameness of space lulled her to sleep. She jerked awake hours later when the ship warned her with a piercing chirp that the autopilot was disengaging. Sitting up straight, she watched Ploice Two fill the view screen. Its glittering rings revolved around the docking axis. Her heart kicked in her chest with excitement. She’d only ever docked in simulations, never a flip ship. She hailed the station and hit her mic. “Requesting permission to dock.” “Permission granted. Proceed to space four-twenty.” With shaking hands, she gripped the controls and cautiously guided the one-person ship to the narrow space that the station master had indicated. The margin for error was next to nothing. The docking clamp opened like a giant metal claw and locked the ship into place. The engines automatically shut down, the song they hummed slowly fading to silence. She unfolded from the pilot seat with a prayer of thanks to Faran, the bright god of safe travel. The view screen darkened, becoming a mirror. She scowled at her disheveled reflection. But before she could smooth her hands over the dress, the smart material the outfit was made of released the wrinkles, making it appear crisp and clean, as if she’d just put it on instead of slept in it. Too bad her hair couldn’t do the same thing. After gathering up her bedraggled hair, she twisted it into a rope and knotted it at the base of her skull. The style may not have been in fashion but at least she looked tidy. If only she could do something about the lost look in her eyes. With a sigh, she hit the release and stepped out of the small ship onto the dock, a lone traveler in a sea of pinprick stars and predators. The feeling of déjà vu licked up
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her spine, making her shiver. Once more she ducked her head and tried to blend as she left the docks for the ring. This time the revolution of the ring placed her in the five-hundred circle, just where she needed to be—her first bit of good luck in…she didn’t know how long. Sam’s green-blue eyes rose in her mind, reminding her what it had felt like to be looked upon with love—damn lucky, that’s how it’d felt. With a frustrated growl, she headed straight for the ship repair shop…and tripped over the damn trash bot a second time once she neared it. This time, however, she was quick to jump out of the way when the bot sprayed acid at her. The stream of yellow liquid missed her by inches. More luck. With a smug smile, she turned and slammed into a male who clamped his hands around her upper arms and held her against him. He ducked his head and whispered in her ear, “I knew you’d come back. Waited for you. Didn’t like the plans that pretty boy had for you, did you?” Captain Grab-Ass. She jerked back, trying to break free. His fingers dug in with bruising force as he lowered his mouth to the side of her neck and bit. Hard. Achelle stomped on his foot and twisted, forcing him to loosen his grip. The bot wasn’t the only one who knew a little self-defense. She sucked in some air to scream for help. Captain Grab-Ass slapped one hand over her mouth as he locked his other arm around her waist, pinning her arms down to her sides. He pulled her into the ship repair shop. “Hey! No!” the same man who had yelled at her before about tripping over the trash bot yelled at the captain. “You want to assault some woman, do it somewhere else. Not in my establishment. Last thing I need is station security finding an excuse to search my shop.” Achelle bit the soft cushion of the captain’s palm. He jerked away from her mouth but before she could scream he wrapped his hand around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Tears sprang in her eyes as she struggled to take a breath. She thrashed in his 54
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arms, kicking his shins, stomping on his feet. His dual grips on her throat and waist tightened, squeezing the life out of her like a boidae snake kills its prey. Her vision blurred and dimmed. Her muscles weakened and quieted. Her body slumped and collapsed. Her last thought was not of herself or the captain but of a green-blue-eyed man who claimed her as his mortal mate.
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Chapter Six The multitude of alternating see-all screens that covered the front wall flashed scenes of celebration, joyful shouts and relieved tears. Sam’s eyes burned from staring at the monitors too long—really, he wasn’t crying like the little blonde girl in the see-all on the bottom left corner who was overjoyed to see her mommy alive. He rubbed at his eyes, hoping his brothers would give him a break—the last cycle had been a hell of a ride and exhaustion was the culprit for his overemotional state. With the mineworkers safe and accounted for and the collapsed section of the mine secured, Sam could finally allow his mind to focus where it wanted to—on Achelle. Hell, at this point, he couldn’t even block thoughts of his mate from his brothers, who were mentally bitch-slapping him each time his imagination became sexually graphic. “We can handle it from here.” Cannan shuffled reports on the interactive touchtable before looking around at all his brothers in the standard meeting room—a dozen narrow hoverchairs, scrolling info walls, the usual—to rest his gaze on Sam. “Get out of here. Your three-day bonding bed awaits.” Sam gave a grateful nod before hitting “lock” on his files and heading out. In the aftermath of the media raid, the halls were shockingly quiet, as though resonating with the whoosh of silence heard after a great storm. The garage now stood empty but for their family-sized ship. He stopped and looked around the empty room, needing to take a moment to collect his turbulent thoughts before sitting in the pilot’s chair. He hated flying at the best of times. The relief that had reached into his stomach and loosened his gut when the last miner rose up from the shaft and reunited with her family had nearly brought Sam to his knees. As the CEO of their company, he took his duty to protect his workers 56
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seriously—his brothers often thought too seriously. But he knew even if they didn’t that any one of them would behave exactly as he did if they had to shoulder responsibility for the lives of the men and women who worked for them. Time after time he’d thought how thankful he was that Achelle was safe at home. Just knowing she was in their room waiting for him made the brutal hours he’d spent working to recover his people bearable. With a sigh, he boarded the ship and left for home, mentally reaching out to Achelle as he sped across the moon’s uneven surface. He was met with a vague mishmash of thoughts, the kind that spun through a sleeper’s mind. A smile broke over his face as he imagined how he would wake her when he returned to their rumpled bed but when, several minutes later, he made it to their room, she was nowhere to be found. He activated the all-know with the punch of his fist. “Locate my mate.” “Mar Achelle is off-moon, having taken the one-man flip ship,” the feminine voice stated without emotion. “How long ago?” he asked as he ran out of the room and down the hall toward the nearest chute to return him to the garage. “Eleven hours, fourteen minutes, twenty-two seconds.” Damn. Talk about a head start. “Trajectory?” “Unknown.” “Probability that the destination is Ploice Two space station?” “High.” Sam ran through the garage and activated the streamer, the fastest ship in the garage, a personal egg-shaped transport made of living metal that warped around his body, crackling as it morphed from liquid to solid. Encased in the claustrophobic ship, he pressed his palms against the empathic inner skin of the craft and thought, Ploice Two.
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The low, singing engines engaged to propel him out of the garage and off the moon. As claustrophobia spun his thoughts and emotions out of control, he gritted his teeth, trying to push the memory of his parents’ death out of his mind. But the fear he felt for Achelle seemed to meld to the memory of his parents’ accident and sear his frontal lobe, acting out for attention like the child he’d been when they’d died.
~~~~~ With a goofy grin on his fourteen-year-old face, Sam scanned the newly updated chip embedded in his hand that now identified him as a class-A student flyer. The scanner blinked white, accepting his license, and the full-heavy, a company ship transporting mining equipment to their new site on Twellen Moon where his younger brothers waited for them, rumbled to life like an old male coming awake after an alcohol-induced nap. Pride in her twinkling silver-blue eyes, Sam’s mother leaned over from the copilot seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t believe my baby is learning to fly,” she said, brushing his unruly hair from his forehead. Normally he’d duck and weave to avoid his mother’s demonstrative behavior but today he happily accepted her babying. He was, after all, at the age of adulthood and adult males honored their females—especially their mates and mothers—in all things. “I’m going to pull away from the dock, Samius,” his father said, his low voice ringing with a happy note of satisfaction. “You can take over, with your mother’s guidance, as soon as we’re clear.” Sam looked over his shoulder at his father who sat buckled into the imposing captain’s chair and gave the large, thick-muscled male a nod of his shaggy head. The disembark signal flashed green outside the bridge’s main view screen and the docking clamps disengaged, releasing the jumbo-sized ship to navigate away from the station. They accelerated slowly, giving Sam plenty of time to review their plotted course and submit it to the station before taking over the controls and heading out into the vast
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darkness of space. The first in a series of short jumps went well and was met with praise from both his parents. No matter how hard he tried to maintain a countenance of solemn concentration, he couldn’t beat back the jittery joy that came with his first flight. Suddenly, without warning, the ship trembled as if in fear, the hull screamed like an injured infant. Electrical lines broke and unraveled from the ceiling, snaking wildly though the air, sparks burning up the oxygen, making him choke on smoke-thickened atmosphere. On the control panel, every light indicator flashed red, every system was offline. The hull had been—and continued to be—breached. External see-alls showed…damn, a meteorite storm tearing holes through the ship, breaching the hull, killing the engines, tearing through the vessel like tiny missiles. They were almost past it, but the ship was more than crippled; the vessel had become a deathtrap preparing to snap and kill them all. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother jerk and slump in her chair. Only the restraints prevented her unconscious body from sliding to the floor. He released his seat buckle and checked her pulse… Nothing. “Dad!” he shouted. No reply. As if in slow motion, he turned to find his father writhing in his chair, one of the unraveled lines biting at his chest, sending jolts of electricity through his muscular form, killing him before Sam’s eyes. Sam stumbled over to his father and knocked the line away. Even before he checked, he knew he’d find no pulse. The burn marks and stench of burnt skin and released bowels stole his hope. The emergency siren squealed to life, a high-pitched scream that stabbed past his panicked thoughts only to peter out just as quickly, going off-line like everything else. Trembling from head to foot, Sam ran across the bridge, dove into a chute, and stumbled out onto the first main deck where emergency capsules were located. 59
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The air was thin there, forcing him to pant and gasp as he ran to the closest porthole and manually forced the door open to crawl into the capsule. The door sealed, he pushed and kicked the release lever until at last the tiny life raft popped free and floated away from the ship and the last of the meteor storm. Sam choked on his shock and grief and guilt. Later he would learn that an experienced pilot would have seen the signs of the meteor storm and avoided it. Sam’s ignorance had killed his parents.
~~~~~ When Sam reached the old, clunky space station, he compressed the streamer into a sleek, handheld device that he pocketed as he made his way through the glittering shopping district, once again following Achelle’s pulse-pushing scent. The feeling of déjà vu bit at his heels as he ran down the wide walkway. He prayed to the gods high and low that his mortal mate was still on the run-down station…and within his reach. It felt as though she was close, but maybe that was wishful thinking. As long as she’d been gone, Achelle could have found and purchased passage on a new ship going anywhere. Her scent led him into a crowded ship repair shop named Toio’s that looked more like a den of thieves than a legit business. Four unwashed, unshaven males squatted in the middle of the main room, barking at each other like rabid dogs as they played dice, gambling credits that were no doubt stolen. “Hello?” he shouted over their yelled curses. A long, lanky male with a mashed nose glared over his shoulder before returning his attention to the game. “Yeah, what?” “I’m looking for my mate. A blonde, magenta eyes—” “Captain of that piece-of-shit commuter ship grabbed her a couple hours—” Sam spun and ran out of the shop, backtracking toward the docks, realizing now that her scent had been so strong because she had doubled back on her trail. But concern over whether she’d done so of her own volition or was taken against her will 60
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was what drove his feet to a dead run. He moved in and out of the clumps and groups of family and friends strolling, window shopping, laughing and talking, loving each other and the time they were having while he felt his whole life slipping away from him. If Achelle was lost, he would be incomplete. He and his brothers had all bonded to her. Ranes mated for life. Without her…their family would be forever broken, he half the male he was meant to be. At the long, orange-and-white-striped chute that would return him to the polluted docking ring, he pushed his way past several slow-moving groups and shoved his way into the airstream. He burst out onto the dock and stumbled in his bulky boots before he caught his footing. A centuries-old passenger ship loomed in front of him, Achelle’s sweet smell leading Sam up the steep plank to the captain who walked with a distinct limp. He grabbed the lean man’s shoulder and wheeled him around. “Where is she?” he asked, getting right up into the captain’s generically handsome face and letting the male see the violence Sam knew showed on his own visage. “Where is my mate?” The captain jerked his shoulder out of Sam’s grasp and stepped back, placing himself higher up on the ramp so he looked down on Sam, a sneer cutting across his symmetrical face. “If you’re talking about the blonde bitch, I refused her passage. Don’t need trouble like her on my ship.” The growl that clawed its way up Sam’s throat and tore out of his mouth widened the captain’s eyes and loosened his jaw. The man stood in a state of shock that would have been laughable if Sam weren’t so pissed off. “Where exactly did you see my mate last?” He bit each word off as if he was tearing meat from the bone. The captain’s eyes widened and bulged. He swallowed twice before responding. “O-over by the far chute.” He motioned with his head, nodding toward the service chute across the port from where Sam had entered. 61
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A full-heavy obstructed Sam’s view, and for a moment Sam stood there staring while flashes of his parents’ death in the same type of ship ripped through his brain, reopening old emotional scars. Shaking his head as if he could fling the memories away, he refocused on his mortal mate. He bolted down the narrow plank and hopped over the rail when he neared the end. The people in his way, the ships crowding around him didn’t even register—they were nothing more than ghosts, blurred obstacles that stood between him and his mate. Her scent pounded through him now, rich and refined like moonberry wine, delicate on the tongue and silky smooth as it slipped down his throat. He found her around the full-heavy, slumped on a long bench, hands folded in her lap, head down, her long blonde hair obscuring her beautiful face. When he sat at on the opposite end of the bench, he heard her quiet crying, tasted her salty tears on his tongue. Closing his eyes, he breathed past his self-loathing. Her unhappiness, her despair were his fault. He’d pushed her too far, too fast—not that he’d had any choice thanks to their Rane genetics. But if he’d just been able to keep from coupling with her before they’d reached his brothers, if the bonding ritual would have been explained to her and properly completed…things might have been different. She might not have run from him. Now that he’d found her, he didn’t know what to do. Force her to return home with him? He was not the captain, caring only for his own wants and needs. Let her go? Allow his bonded mate to leave him to live a half life as half a male? Every cell in his body revolted at that idea. A bonded Rane male without his mortal mate—was nothing. The same could be said about a bonded Rane female but Achelle was half human. And humans were notorious for breaking their mate bonds, their marriages, and bonding with someone else.
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Achelle felt more than saw Samius sit on the opposite end of the squat metal bench, his long legs making him look like an adult sitting in a child’s seat. The moment she sensed him, she came alive and her heart leapt as if trying to reach him. He doesn’t love you. How could he? He knows your body, not your mind. She winced at the pain that accompanied her thoughts, lancing her heart, matching the emotional with the physical pain. You love him. The thought sang, a ringing of ancient Earth bells, the kind she’d read about being used in weddings. She laughed at the ridiculous thought and wiped at her overflowing eyes, smearing away her tears. “Achelle?” Sam’s voice was thick with unnamed emotion, which comforted her. At least she wasn’t alone in her bewilderment. And if his presence here meant anything, it was that she didn’t have to be alone ever again, not if she didn’t want to. Gods, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. But really, how could she say she wanted him and retain any self-respect after he’d backed her against a wall. Yeah, she’d been foolish, running, falling into the hands of Captain Grab-Ass again—a smile twisted her lips—but who would’ve thought that all she’d had to do to get rid of the captain’s unwanted attention was to stop running and face him… Well, that and awake before he boarded the ship so that she could grab a handful of his junk and twist until his face turned purple and he released her, whimpering like a little boy who’d lost his favorite toy. She glanced at Samius, peering through the long length of hair that fell like a curtain around her face. What she saw stopped her breath and broke her heart. He looked at her with such raw longing in his square-jawed, masculine face that she winced. What were the chances of him feeling the same way about her as she did about him? And could either of them trust feelings apparently fueled by their Rane nature? “Will you talk to me?” He met her eyes, proving he was paying far more attention to her than he had let on. 63
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“I don’t know what to say,” she replied, and it was the truth. “Then will you hear me?” “Yes.” Her voice cracked on that one word, reflecting how torn she felt inside. He slid down the bench until they sat hip to hip, close but not touching. “I thought the natural drive to couple would supersede everything else between us…or not yet between us. I know my arrogance now.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “If I had been honest with you from the start… Well, maybe you wouldn’t have believed me, but at least the Rane need to bond with your mate and his brothers wouldn’t have taken you by surprise. At least then you could’ve trusted me a little.” He gripped his knees, holding on to himself as if holding on to his intense feelings. Achelle realized then that it was more than intuition that allowed her to read him so well. This was part of what it meant to be a bonded mate. Too bad he was right. He’d lied. She couldn’t trust him. More, she couldn’t trust herself when it came to him. He seemed to sense her conclusion, his head dropping, his shoulders angling down. She could feel his response and it wasn’t what she thought it would be. Achelle had expected anger, demands—not this, not disappointment, sadness, acceptance. She felt her brow go all wrinkly. She was honestly stunned. Would he really let her go without a fight? Only one way to find out. She gripped the edge of the bench before collecting her courage, pushing up off the cold metal to stand on shaky legs. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I’ve got to go.” He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move or look up to meet her eyes. He simply sat frozen, a humanoid statue depicting a man resigned to a life of unhappiness. Achelle turned and walked away.
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Elbows on knees, Sam watched Achelle leave. It was like watching his parents die all over again—his life was a vacant tomb, a mined moon, a room full of fool’s gold. Empty. Hollow. Worthless. He stood and pulled the streamer from his pocket. The cool living metal seemed to freeze the blood in his veins and numb his hand, his arm, then reach inside the cavern of his chest to ice over his heart. Better than the pain, he thought as he walked to his landing spot and activated the ship to close around him so he was like an embryo within an egg. The flight home was an epiphany. He was utterly fearless, flying at breakneck speeds, piloting the tiny vessel past stars and planets, living and dead. For the first time since the day he received his learner’s license, he flew with a casual confidence that could come only from ignorance, arrogance or in his case, apathy. Live or die, he did not care. At home his brothers read enough through their familial bond to know to keep out of his way, avoiding him as he pounded down the hall to his room. Empty. Like everything else. He stood in the center of the large, open space that waited no more for his mate’s contribution to the decoration. Like Sam, the room would remain incomplete. He didn’t know how long he stood there in a stupor but what roused his consciousness was a long ring coming from the all-know on the near wall. On legs that felt as broken as the rest of him—he must have stood there forever—he crossed the room and answered the ring. Instead of a call from one of his brothers or a foreman at the mine, a see-all popped up on the panel to show Cannan walking into the garage in subbasement two to greet…Achelle. Sam’s heart skipped and pounded in his chest. Achelle stepped down from the flip ship and said something to Cannan that was inaudible to Sam over the see-all. But he didn’t care what she said—she could rage,
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scream, condemn his actions for the rest of their natural lives—as long as she was here to stay. Unable to bear the silent scene any longer, he left the room at a run and didn’t skid to a stop until he was in the garage, inches from his mate, taking in the bounty of her presence in his home. “You’re here,” he said stupidly. She took in a shaky breath. “I belong with you. I know that—oomph!” He grabbed her and hugged her to him. Tight. His hands roamed her body, relearning each curve and line until he couldn’t bear the clothing separating them and pulled her dress with his house colors over her head. She gasped and crossed her arms over her high breasts, glancing over Sam’s shoulder, drawing his attention to the fact that Cannan still stood there watching them with no compunction or modesty. Sam didn’t give a damn but since his mate was covering herself from his gaze, he turned to his brother and said, “Leave.” The multitude of scars on Cannan’s face twisted as he grinned, his eyes dancing with light and laughter Sam hadn’t seen from his brother since the mining accident that had disfigured him. From his pocket, Cannan pulled out an unbelievably large magenta ruby that perfectly matched Achelle’s eyes. “Welcome to the family, mate of my brother,” he said, bowing, his arm outstretched, offering the precious stone to her. Achelle gasped at the offering, looking from Cannan to Sam. He smiled and nodded, encouraging her to take the gift. One arm still covering her breasts, she reached out with the other and plucked the ruby from Cannan’s hand. “Thank you.” Cannan met her eyes for a brief moment, blinking back tears, and then fled the room.
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“I didn’t want to be rude to him but, Samius, I can’t accept this. It must be worth a fortune,” she said, worry clearly visible in her bright, beautifully expressive eyes as she studied the stone. “The stone belongs to you just as we all do.” Sam took the stone from her and carelessly dropped it in the puddle her dress made on the floor. Then, catching the side tabs of her panties, he exposed her fully to his gaze so he could drink her in like a lost male on a desert planet falling upon a spring and greedily gulping down fresh draughts of water. In the first language, mortal mate meant life bringer. And truly he never understood the meaning so well. Now that she had returned, by her own volition, he wasn’t going to question it, afraid that if he did, she would change her mind. Cupping her lovely face between his hands, he kissed her, softly planted kisses at first, then long, lingering ones, which engendered heat that burned through his body like liquid fire, chasing the cold from his heart, leaving in its place hope and requited love. She moaned into his mouth and, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressed the full length of her naked form against his body. Damn. He was way overdressed. Breaking from the kiss, he kicked off his boots and stripped at breakneck speed, tripping on his trousers and going down on his knees. After the initial smack of his knees cracking on the hard floor, he glanced up and kneeled there transfixed. Not a bad place to be, he decided when his gaze leveled with the blonde triangle of curls at the junction of his mate’s thighs. The temptation too great to overcome, he leaned in and nuzzled her, inhaling her delectable scent. She was aroused, thank the gods. The sweet smell of her body preparing to accept his made his mouth water in anticipation of her taste. She shivered at his touch as he parted her petal-soft folds and licked her most tender flesh. He delved
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and sucked and flicked his tongue, holding her to him when she began to sway, looking up to see her enraptured face as he brought her to the apex of her pleasure. “Oh!” She threw her head back and trembled, her muscles seizing, her body sagging. She slid down into his arms as her orgasm liquefied her bones. He kissed her neck and pressed her into the floor, moving between her legs, fitting himself against her body, waiting for her to open her amazing eyes. When she did, he slid inside her, opening her until he filled her completely. Propped up on his forearms, he leaned down and took her mouth, then kissed his way to first one breast then the other. Gently biting her nipples, playing his tongue over the hard buds, he began to thrust, moving slowly at first, glorying in the feel of her flesh fisting his cock. Tight. So tight. She whimpered and lifted her hips from the floor, meeting his thrusts, welcoming his invasion, digging her heels into his flexing ass and demanding, “Give me more.” Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, “I give you all of me.” And he did.
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About the Author Emma Abbiss is in love. And you won’t believe with whom—that’s right, peeps— you, her readers, make Emma come back to the laptop and tickle the keyboard. She’ll give you drama. She’ll give you hot lovers in multiples. She’ll give you sex wrapped in seduction wrapped in sugar, sugar, sugar. So lick your lips, shake your hips and prepare to fall in love.
Emma welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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