The words burst from my throat, as if they had a life of their own, escaped before I could think to hold them back. I had no control over the woman whose senses I shared, I could only watch and listen… and feel. The moment I spoke, my first mate stilled beneath me, the rigid length of his cock buried deep inside. I whimpered at being denied the fierce thrusts I craved, the throbbing ache in my pussy crying out for more. His breath warmed my cheek as he leaned in, his voice a low growl that resonated in my chest. “I claim you in the rite of naming,” he said, his words like molten lava on my skin, branding me as his forever. “You are mine, and I shall kill any other warrior who dares touch you.”
A possessive thrill surged through me at his declaration, but I barely had time to revel in it before my second mate kissed his way back up my spine, the light graze of his teeth sending shocks of pleasure through my nerves. His next words were not required by the ritual, but he spoke them for me. Only for me. “You are mine, mate. I shall kill any other warrior who dares look at you.” With those words, he slid his cock gently, slowly,completelyinto my back entrance. I was too full. Stretching. Burning. The alien device implanted there did its job, covering his hard length in lube to ease his way as my body struggled to process…everything. The watchers, chanting. Two huge alien cocks filling me up. Strong, possessive, devoted mates surrounding me. Inside me.
I cried out, my body trembled, overwhelmed.
“We are going to fuck you now.” The claiming would be quick, for our passions burned too hot to delay any longer.
“Yes.” This was what I wanted, what I’d been waiting for. My mates to claim me, fill me, together. The chanting reached a crescendo, but the witnesses faded to insignificance against the sensation of stretching, widening. Two cocks pressed deep. Mymates were everywhere, all consuming. They took over my body, my senses, my emotions… my entire world.
Then they moved.
Two cocks, thick and pulsing, shifted inside me. Pulled out. Thrust deep again. My body yielded to their relentless need.
“Mine.” Two deep, powerful voices spoke as one and my body spiraled out of control, the orgasm tearing a scream from my throat as I surrendered. I was theirs. Claimed. Mated.
They were mine.
A second orgasm built, hard and fast on the tail of the first. I reached for it, eager to share the rush of pleasure with my mates.
As if from a great distance, a voice cut through the haze of pleasure. Stern and unforgiving, it pulled me back to a reality I had forgotten. “Miss Cochrane.”
No, that wasn’t either of my mates’ voices. I mentally swatted it away, wanted to stay lost in this fantastical dream world for just a few more minutes. No real man had ever made me feel even a fraction ofthis. The mating collars connected the three of us so that I knew their desire for me was real. Their need. Their love. The two warriors worshipped me like a goddess, were utterly and completely determined to bring me pleasure. Care for me. Keep me safe. Protect me. Love me.
After rotting in prison the last few months, being abused, accused and lied about in court, then sentenced to spend the next twenty years being treated like a cockroach inside a cage, the things those males were feeling broke me.
2
Captain Marz, The Colony, Base 3
The storm outsideraged with a fury I had never seen before. It slammed against the biodome’s thick walls, a chaotic blend of whirling red dust and electric-blue lightning flashing through the haze. The reinforced shield struggled to hold it back, the protective barrier flickering as the atmosphere grew volatile. Inside Base 3, static crackled in the air. Reports poured in from all sectors—life support fluctuated, structures vibrated, and pressure increased on the shield generators.
I stood in the command center, staring at the storm with a clenched jaw and crossed arms. For the first time in history, The Colony’s survival hung on a razor’s edge. The thin air, suffused with toxins and a complete lack of edible vegetation, forced us to rely on the S-Gen machines for everything. Food. Clothing. Weapons. If we could not control the energy flow on the planet, we could not survive here, could not mine the rare mineral the Coalition’s transport system needed to operate.
If we couldn’t run our transport systems or our S-Gen machines, we were as good as dead. The Colony wasnot a forgiving environment under normal circumstances. But recently?
I stared at the monitors, tried to imagine what lay beyond the endless red rock and sandstorms. A brilliant purple and silver lightning bolt split the sky, far too large to be considered normal. The entire horizon lit up in a chaotic web of destructive energy.
We’d been studying the phenomenon for weeks, but whatever had caused the storms to begin was gaining in strength. Each storm was more powerful, more dangerous, and did more damage to the domed structures that made it possible for the Coalition Fleet’s integrated fighters to survive.
The storms threatened to tear the base apart if we didn’t find an answer soon. We would be forced to evacuate.
“Captain Marz,” Kristin’s voice cut through my thoughts. She was a human female, mated to two excellent Prillon warriors, and a trusted member of my security team. “We have a situation in the transport room.”
My head snapped toward the excited tone of her voice. She’d worked for something on Earth called the F-B-I. Human law enforcement. Rarely did anything rattle her.
“A situation?” My nanobots flared in response to my spike of adrenaline, their familiar hum surging through my veins, lending me extra strength and speed, should I need it. Two things I reluctantly acknowledged as benefits of my capture and torture by the Hive. “Explain.”
Her gaze wavered, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she glanced at her datapad. “Your bride is arriving, Captain.”
“My what?”
“Your bride. You’ve been matched.” Her smile convinced me as nothing else could that she was speaking the truth. “We’ve locked in her transport signature—she’s on her way.”
I stiffened. My bride? Now? After all these years? I had completely given up the idea, the very possibility of a mate.When my chosen second, Perro, died, when he betrayed us all, I knew I did not deserve such a gift. He’d been closer than a brother to me for years. We had fought side-by-side. Been captured. Tortured. His strength had kept me going through long, dark weeks of torment with no hope of survival. I’d trusted him with my life, with my future mate’s life.
I’d been wrong. So wrong. I was not worthy of an Interstellar Bride. Had completely dismissed the idea. I had no right to claim a female. Despite this, Lieutenant Vance offered to be my second after Perro’s death. I accepted. No male of worth would consider claiming a mate without a second to help care for and protect her. In truth, I never believed I would be matched.
I should have died when Perro did. I had failed to see that he suffered a relentless torment. He had suffered and I had been oblivious, or too self-absorbed to notice his struggle. I did not know the Hive’s voices still buzzed in his head. Those voices had tortured him, driven him mad, been the reason for so much death, the reason he had betrayed not only everyone on The Colony, but me.
