166. A Second Invitation
166
A Second Invitation
B raveheart
I wasn’t ready for this on Blanterra, although I kicked myself afterward when I was sure we were going to die in that car race. At that moment, the night before the race, I couldn’t remember exactly what my objections had been that kept us from taking our bond from the emotional to the physical.
Since then, Valor hasn’t been well enough. We haven’t spoken of it. We all knew that our first coming together should be perfect.
I don’t know if this cottage, made more for dolls than geneslaves, would have been my first choice, but here we are.
I can’t tear my eyes from Willow. She was beautiful when she was smudged with grease and caked with dirt on that forsaken asteroid. She’s lovely now. It has more to do with the soft look of love in her eyes than the flowery dress she’s wearing.
We don’t need our psy connection to discuss what comes next. It’s as natural as breathing for us to converge at the foot of the bed.
Wordlessly, she jumps and Valor and I catch her. We’re gripping each other’s wrists, supporting Willow’s ass between us. All of our faces are now at the same height as we press together for a kiss.
Although I needed no additional convincing, this kiss underscores the reality that we belong together. Our coming together is effortless and without argument or rancor. It doesn’t matter if Willow’s lips are upon mine or Valor’s. It’s like a beautiful, seamless dance.
My cock is hard as steel, pressing against my black fabric pants.
“Your lips are so soft,” I husk between kisses, then nuzzle her ear, leaving her lips for Valor to invade.
I breathe into the shell of her ear, then suck in a breath until she wiggles. Watching, I see a sea of goosebumps tide across the flesh of her arm. I made her feel good. I vow to do more of that.
The sound of Valor invading Willow’s mouth, her little moans of pleasure, her wiggling bottom on our united grip, all of it converges to heighten my mating instinct.
At times, I can forget my animal DNA, like when we’re discussing our future plans. At times like this, there’s no denying my beastly origins.
Willow’s hand slides down my back to my ass as she forcefully tucks me against her. I feel Valor being yanked by a similar maneuver.
“You two are so hard.” She presses again with a firm tug, then slides her hands to our fronts and palms us through the thin fabric of our pants.
I thought this would be slow, little Willow, Valor says.
“I’ve waited long enough.” She’s breathless, her eyes glazed as if she’s imagining what’s to come next.
We set her down and as soon as Valor pulls her dress over her shoulders, I use one of my retractable claws to slice open the middle of her bra.
When her breasts spring free, her dusky nipples stiff with need, my cock kicks again, eager to plunge into her wet heat. Even though I feel her desire to lie back on the bed and do just that, I can’t ignore my urge to pleasure her breasts.
I pluck one of her little buds until it’s standing so hard and firm the colored flesh around it puckers with need. She’d been looking at us, from Valor to me and back again as if she wanted to drink in the sight of us, but now her lids slam shut so she can dive into her internal pleasure.
Willow
So. Damn. Good. Could anything feel better than this? These two gargantuan males aren’t towering over me. They’re both kneeling at my feet, their mouths breast-high. They pleasure me as if their very lives depend on it.
They haven’t orchestrated this, but they’re like bookends, mirror images. Each of them has a meaty hand gripping one of my ass cheeks. Their other hand is supporting my breast while they pleasure the aching bud with licks and nips. At the same moment, they both apply suction, causing every muscle in my body to tighten in pleasure.
“Too good. It’s too good,” I purr. I didn’t mean it as a request to stop, nor did they take it that way.
My channel tightens in need, but my desire to jump into bed has slowed. This moment is far too pleasurable to hurry.
I slide my hands through Braveheart’s thick black hair as I stroke Valor’s bald pate. Looking at him, the bigger of my two mates, I smile at how handsome he is. He senses my attention and opens his shuttered eyes.
His third eye, the one I believe is the seat of his psychic powers, gazes at me with so much love it brings tears to my eyes. The color is beautiful cerulean blue, swirling with purple. It’s his love color. And his sex color.
Tears? He stops pleasuring me for a moment, concern consumes his face.
Tears of joy, tears of love, big guy. I smile. Get back to work.
He doesn’t need a second invitation.