Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Fiona
The idea of losing Khesan hit me in the gut. I’ve come to crave his dedication and his surprising tenderness. I’d even miss his dancing. I want him here with me.
The following day, we try again to hang the Christmas lights before the party starts. Khesan successfully gets the rest strung up along the roof of the second floor, and then we all stand back and gaze at the house with pride.
The only thing I’m missing is an inflatable Santa. Oh well. I have limits.
We spend the afternoon cooking snacks for the party—cookies, marshmallow crispies, and tiny sandwiches—and preparing the drinks. We have apple cider, eggnog, spiked hot chocolate, you name it. I think I have everything ready.
Marguerite arrives early, and she’s in a surprisingly pleasant mood, smiling at all the decorations, even complimenting the tree. I don’t mention how we came to possess it.
“You did good,” she says. “I’m glad to get out of the house, too. The plumbers have been so loud, and now we have to replace the floor in the kitchen.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry, Margie.” I offer her a cookie. “Will this make it better?”
She laughs and eats it, nodding in appreciation. “Good job.”
“Wasn’t me.” I gesture at where Khesan is sipping apple cider at the kitchen island. “It’s all him.”
“You’re a baker?” Marguerite asks him.
Khesan shrugs. “I can do most anything if given proper instruction.”
“That’s the military training,” says Shathar. “I don’t measure at all when I cook.”
I giggle because it’s true. “You cook on vibes. Which is impressive when it’s all new to you.”
Then the guests start to arrive, most of them dressed in their ugliest Christmas sweaters.
We’re holding a competition tonight for best ugly sweater, as determined by vote.
Shathar is in charge of the drink station, and he slings cocktails like he was born to do it.
Khesan keeps the mini-quiches flowing, putting a new batch of frozen ones in the oven every twenty minutes.
I greet and socialize, keeping an eye on the music playlist.
“Wow,” says Amara when she and Roth’kar arrive. “This is badass. And look at them!” She points at Shathar and Khesan working in the kitchen alongside each other. “They’re getting along!”
“We’ve had some… challenges lately,” I explain. “But I think we got past it.”
Amara tilts her head. “What kind of challenges?”
I lean in close and cover my mouth as I say it into her ear. “You know. Sex.”
“Ohhh.” She nods in understanding. “Yeah, I was wondering how you all would figure that out when it came up. Well, good. I’m glad you found a path forward.”
If only she knew.
As the night goes on, guests drink more and start dancing in my living room. Both Shathar and Khesan have had a few beverages themselves while they work, and when I come join them in the kitchen, they both say, “Fiona!”
Shathar wraps an arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Are you having fun?”
“A blast. Do you guys want a break so you can go enjoy the party?”
Khesan snorts. “I don’t know anyone, so I am happy to continue serving.”
Shathar nods in agreement. “It’s good to feel useful.”
They’re both so sweet, and there’s eggnog and rum flowing in my veins, so I hug Shathar first, then Khesan.
“Thanks, guys,” I tell them, surprised to find my eyes getting wet. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Khesan leans down, takes my chin in his clawed fingers, and tilts my face up toward him. When we kiss, it feels amazing. I just want to keep kissing forever, and then do some other things, too.
Amara, Roth’kar, and Marguerite decide right then to join us in the kitchen. Amara whistles, and when Khesan and I pull away from each other, Marguerite is grinning at me. She must have had a lot to drink already.
“Roth’kar has news,” Amara says, hopping from one foot to the other. “Do you wanna tell them?”
He clears his throat, crossing both his pairs of arms. “We are working on bringing my friend Zono to Earth,” he says. “It is complicated, but Amara is helping me.”
“Oh, wow.” I vaguely remember the name. “Where’s he going to live?”
“We’re figuring that out now,” says Amara. “I thought that maybe, after your trial marriage is over, you might be able to host him for a while in your mom’s old apartment downstairs.”
After the trial marriage is over. I cringe at the thought. Indeed, after the trial marriage is over, I won’t need the basement anymore.
“All right,” I say hesitantly. “I could host him. Let’s follow up in a few weeks, okay? When you know more about his situation.”
Amara nods, and Roth’kar grins. “Thank you, Fiona.”
Unfortunately, since I’ve been drinking, all I can think about after that is how much time Khesan, Shathar, and I have left. It puts me in a rather sour mood for the rest of the night.
We collect the voting sheets, then tally them up until we have a winner. Surprisingly, it’s Roth’kar, who truly does have the worst sweater of all time.
“Made it myself,” Amara says proudly, and everybody laughs.
Then, at last, it’s time to wrap it up. People start clearing out of the house, and I’m relieved to have the place to ourselves again. I’m pretty tipsy, and I think my husbands are, too. All I want is my warm bed and a few good hours of sleep.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” I tell them as we finish cleaning up. “Let’s save the rest for tomorrow.”
Shathar and Khesan both agree, as tired as we all are. But I also don’t want to say goodnight to them yet. We all worked so well together, and I’m not ready for it to end.
“Do you, um…” I wring my hands. “Do you guys want to, uh, sleep with me? In my room?”
Both of them raise their brows in surprise.
“You want me in your bed?” asks Khesan. “Him, too?”
“I mean, you don’t have to—”
“I would like nothing more,” Shathar says, putting his hands on my shoulders and peering down into my eyes. “Going to sleep beside you? Waking up beside you? It is my dream.”
I giggle. “All right, then.” I take each of their hands in mine and tug them toward the stairs.
Happily, Khesan and Shathar follow along as we head up to the second floor, then down the hall to my room.
Before I can think twice about it, I take off all my clothes—including my bra—and dig through a drawer for some pajamas.
When I look up, both of my alien husbands are staring at me with wide eyes.
“Oops,” I say, covering my bare nipples. “Sorry.”
They both shake their heads.
“Please do not be sorry,” Shathar says, clearly trying to keep his gaze on my face.
As I quickly dress in my soft pajamas, Shathar and Khesan start taking off their own clothes. I’m mesmerized as they both strip down to nothing.
Oh. Oh. They are so beautiful—Khesan with his bulging muscle and defined lines leading down to his groin, and Shathar with his sleek, lean body and significant dick emerging from the slit at his groin. I can’t help staring.
“Do you like it?” Shathar asks with a smirk when I clearly can’t take my eyes off him. He runs a hand down his belly to his cock, which is almost all the way hard.
I nod fervently, unable to speak.
Khesan laughs. “We have stunned her, I think,” he says to Shathar, who snorts in agreement.
Then Khesan takes my hand in his and leads me over to my bed, which is, thankfully, a king size. He pulls back the blankets and gestures for me to get in, so I do, my head swimming a little. Then he joins me on the left side, while Shathar climbs in on the right.
Having both of them at my side, all the stress leaves my body at once, and I fade into sleep.
When I awaken the next morning, I’m wrapped like a burrito in someone’s arms. Another someone is snoring beside me. My eyes crack open, and I find Shathar passed out cold on the pillow next to mine, his nostrils fluttering with each little snore. They’re kind of cute.
“Mmm,” Khesan mumbles behind me, his grip on me tightening as I move. I feel his hips pressed against my ass, his cock wedged quite firmly between my cheeks. Holy shit. If I weren’t wearing pajama pants, it wouldn’t take much to tilt my hips back and…
Boy, does that sound good. That cock is fat and hard, and it would probably feel very good inside me with all those ridges along it.
When I shift again, Khesan’s hands grip me harder. Oh. I think he’s awake.
“Fiona,” he whispers in my ear in a very sultry voice. “Please don’t go.”
I nod, staying where I am in the bed. His hands explore me while we snuggle, drifting down to my hip, then up and over my breasts. Khesan huffs a heavy breath when he pauses there to rub my hard nipples.
“These are so fascinating,” he whispers, like he’s trying not to wake up Shathar.
“Do female Arshurians not have them?”
“No. We don’t nurse young the way your species does.” He hums in pleasure as he tweaks each nipple through my shirt. “It is very uniquely you.”
Oh, does that feel good. My back arches, pushing my breasts into his hands, and Khesan’s cock twitches against my ass. He grinds his hips against me, making sure I know just how hard I make him. I’m hot to trot already, and then his fingers roam over the mound of my pelvis, down between my legs.
“Open these for me,” he murmurs into my ear, so I do, allowing him through.
Warm hands with sharp claws venture farther, but Khesan is careful to only use the pads of his fingers.
He strokes along the fabric of my pajama pants, simply exploring me.
But now I want more of it, of him, in the low morning light.
So I pull his hand up to my belly and guide it inside my pajamas, down into my underwear.
Khesan inhales sharply as his fingers come into contact with my sex.
Experimentally, he strokes my labia, then dips down between them.
“So wet,” he whispers, his finger trailing up to the hood, where he feels around for my clit. I gasp as he applies pressure there, and Khesan says, “Did you like that?”
I nod fervently, so he does it again, skating over it back and forth, and my hips jerk and twitch with every pass. Now I’m really getting riled up.
That’s when Shathar rolls over. We both freeze, thinking he must have woken, but he keeps on snoring gently.
I shouldn’t be doing this, right here next to him while he sleeps, but I don’t want Khesan to stop.
He’s not inclined to, either, as he rubs me faster, applying slightly more pressure and then easing off, until I’m covering my mouth so my gasps don’t wake up Shathar.
Khesan rolls my nipple and then gently pinches it, and my whole body convulses.
“Vakha,” hisses Khesan. “I want to be inside you. I want to pleasure you even more. Please.”
“Don’t mind me,” I hear Shathar say. When I glance up, his reptilian eyes are open, his lips peeled back on one side in a smirk. He slides closer across the bed until we are nose to nose, and I’m too shocked, and too ashamed, to respond.
“Shathar?” asks Khesan, his hands frozen in place. “Do you not… mind?”
“Same as you, I would rather know than not know,” Shathar says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’d rather be here than asleep in my bed, wondering.”
I don’t know what to say, but I open my mouth anyway, hoping to smooth this over—and that’s when Shathar kisses me.
“Mmph,” is what I say instead. He kisses me harder, in an even more demanding fashion, and I return it just as eagerly. So he’s not angry? He seems… horny, if anything.
Khesan’s hands resume moving up and down my body, even more urgently. He says nothing about our kiss as he flicks the pad of his finger over my clit again. His cock slides up and down as he rubs his hips against my ass, and I really want it inside me.
“Fiona,” Khesan says in a warning tone. “If you are amenable to it… I would like to have intercourse.”
I almost giggle at the word “intercourse.” Aliens.
Shathar leans back, breaking our kiss. “And what of me? Shall I simply sit here and watch?” He lets out a sardonic chuckle as his hand drops down under the blankets so he can touch himself.
I don’t know what possesses me to lower my own hands and seek out his. My fingers find his cock and hastily I wrap them around it. Shathar lets out a harsh grunt when I stroke up to the top, then back down again.
Wow, those ridges are wild. I wonder what they’ll feel like.
“What if… you didn’t just watch?” I ask.
“What do you mean, lovely mate?” says Khesan, his hand on my clit slowing down.
“I’ll show you.”