Alien Refuge (44 page)

She clutched handfuls of his formsuit as a muted wash of horror ran through her. The way Conrad had looked at her had her near tears again. The expression on his face had said he had already determined her punishment and would carry it out with pleasure,

“I am not going back to him. I want a divorce.”

Ospar did break the contact of their mouths then, his head rolling back to groan at the ceiling. “I have no idea how this is to be handled. I already invoked Kalquorian law which restricts an abuser or suspected abuser from contact with his alleged victims.”

“So what’s the problem?” Iris didn’t want to know Ospar was worried by the situation. He was always so confident and powerful. Surely he could fix this?

When he didn’t speak, Jol said, “Your marriage is a version of clanning, which Kalquor recognizes the validity of. Clanning is for life.”

Iris looked over her shoulder at the Nobek. He sat on the edge of the mat, savage anger in his face. Yet when he reached to stroke her hair, his touch was tender.

She told him, “Surely you have some allowances for a situation like this?”

Rivek came close, putting an arm around her waist. “We do, but first everything possible is done to preserve the clan, or in your case, the marriage. A proven abuser is incarcerated and placed in intensive behavioral therapy. Unproven but alleged abuse puts the entire clan into analysis and therapy. All avenues are given time to work for the preservation of the clan.”

Iris scowled. “I don’t want therapy. I don’t love Conrad, and I don’t trust him with Thomas. Even if he was proclaimed cured for a thousand years, there is just too much pain there to forgive. Besides ... I love you three. Not him.”

Ospar’s arms around her shoulders tightened. “We love you too, Iris. As well as Thomas.”

Fresh tears stung her eyes. “But I’m not your Matara anymore, am I? Thomas isn’t your son. And we never can be.”

Jol blew out a heavy breath. “There are cases where an abuser is deemed incurable and the clan ties dissolved.”

Rivek’s voice was low with grief. “Only after many years of therapy and all options have been exhausted.”

Iris leaned her forehead against Ospar’s chest. “It’s so unfair. I was finally happy. Thomas was happy. Now it’s gone.”

Ospar voice rumbled overhead. “It is not gone. Slade will not have you or Thomas. Ever. Perhaps you cannot be our Matara in truth, but that does not matter. We are together and together we will remain. I swear it.”

Jol’s big hand cupped the back of her head. “You are safe. I do not need any official arrangement to know you are my Matara and Thomas is my son. We will fight Slade’s claims to you in all the courts until this situation is fixed.”

Rivek grasped her chin and tilted it up so that she could see his determined expression. The priest told her, “It is but another of life’s challenges, one that will make us stronger. Do not shrink from this fight, Iris. You will prevail.”

Iris looked into each grim face. She saw their resolve, their love for her and Thomas. She drew strength from it and felt shame for letting herself go weak. Seeing Conrad back from the dead and ready to take Thomas away had jerked the foundations from beneath her. She’d felt as if shoved from a cliff, hurtling down to the rocks below.

The commitment in each man’s face, the promise that they would not allow any harm to come to her child, brought her resolve roaring back. Iris squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry I fell apart. The shock threw me, but I will not let it defeat me.”

Rivek smiled at her, warmth easing the tension around his eyes. “Of course you won’t. I never thought otherwise.”

She stroked each handsome face in turn. “You still want us? Even with all the obstacles?”

Ospar nodded. “With all our hearts. You are our beloved.”

Jol added, “Thomas is our child. I will defend my family to my last breath.”

Rivek said, “You are our Matara, now and forever. Do not doubt it.”

Their expressions were fierce to a man. The intense light in their eyes told Iris that no matter what tricks Conrad might try in order to take her and Thomas away, the clan would not let them go.

She wanted proof of that. “Claim me,” Iris said. “Assert your right to be my mates right here and now.”

In answer, Ospar kissed her again, this time with possessive demand. Iris melted against him, feeling his strength and power. Opening, surrendering to it. Giving herself up totally to the clan, announcing to them and herself that she denied Conrad any entitlement.

Ospar’s tongue swept into her mouth, stroking hers. He tasted of might and authority. Of brute masculine force. Desire kindled low in Iris’ belly, making her keen a wistful sound.

The Dramok released the embrace and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her to Jol, who now stood over her, his eyes dark with need. Without thinking about what she was doing, Iris put her hands behind her back, lacing her fingers together. She leaned her head back, offering her throat. The Nobek’s eyes widened at her display of surrender.

“Iris,” he groaned. “My love. If you knew what it means to see you give yourself to me.”

“Accept my gift of myself, then. Show me you have the right, not Conrad.”

Jol’s face lowered immediately, his mouth closing over the column of her throat, his teeth scraping her skin. The threat of danger was a heady aphrodisiac even though Iris knew without a doubt the Nobek would never harm her.

He licked from the hollow of her throat up to her chin. Then his mouth fell on hers, kissing deeply, exploring the whole of her mouth as if committing every bit of it to memory. Iris swayed, drunk with the lightheadedness of being tasted so thoroughly. Strong hands kept her upright, just as she knew they would. The clan would not let her fall. They would not let her go.

They turned Iris to Rivek. The Imdiko’s lips first brushed her forehead. Next the light touch drifted over her closed eyes. Her cheeks, nose, and chin received their kisses in turn. At last his mouth settled over hers, and his tongue rasped over her lips, teasing them open so that it could twine about its twin. His kiss lasted a long time until Iris forgot what it meant to be separate from him.

When at last it ended, the men set about undressing her. They uncovered her as carefully as if they unwrapped a piece of fine china. Yet they were quick too, making her naked so fast that she gasped.

Three pairs of hands caressed her nude skin. Iris wanted to give herself the way they preferred her to, to utterly submit to them. She wanted them to know she trusted them with everything. So she closed her eyes and kept her hands locked together behind her back.

“This is not my body,” she whispered. “It belongs to only you, to do with as you please.”

Three deep-throated growls answered her offer. “You yield all to us?” Ospar said, his tone low and dangerous.

“Everything.” Honey slid in warm trails down the insides of her thighs. Iris shivered to relinquish all control to the men. Nervous arousal was already coiling deep within.

Mouths with cat-scratchy tongues and nipping teeth joined the erotic assault on her flesh. Fingers wet themselves in her steadily flowing juices and pried their way into her ass. More fingers dove into her pussy, fucking her with delicious strength. A hand circled her throat, exhibiting firm but careful control. Her nipples were pinched to make her moan with mingled burn and ecstasy. In no time she was quaking all over, her body rioting with churning heat. Iris’ senses were a maelstrom of stinging darts, electric surges, and molten pleasure. Every touch stirred a fevered rush of passion that made her nipples tight and her pussy clench.

“The bed,” Ospar said, his voice thick with passion.

“Me first,” Rivek said, sounding breathless. “Opposite directions.”

“I see. Yes. That will be good.”

Mouths and hands disappeared for a moment. Someone lifted Iris in his arms. The body was hard against hers, unabashedly masculine. Her breasts, sensitive from the play they’d been subjected to, rocketed heat straight to her pussy when they came in contact with the chest of the man who held her.

“You will be on all fours, so unlock your hands,” Ospar said in her ear.

“Yes, my Dramok,” Iris answered, and did so immediately.

Hands placed her in position as she was lowered. A warm body lay beneath hers when she settled down on her hands and knees, and the aroma of spicy cinnamon was thick. Iris thought she faced the feet of whoever she crouched over, which would mean something very delightful was near her mouth. It took a lot for her to not search for it. The need for a taste had her mouth watering. However, she was determined to do only what her lovers allowed, not what she wanted. She belonged to them, so she waited to see what they would have of her.

Movement happened all around her, making the mat beneath her hands and knees shift. The scent of aroused Kalquorian grew heavier, almost chokingly thick. A hand lifted her chin at the same moment hot, wet erections rested on her buttocks and thighs surrounded hers. Hands seized her hips from below to offer support, as did one between her breasts. Another hand closed on one of her wrists, pulling it up until her fingers brushed a livid cock underneath her, near her mouth just as she’d suspected The hand closed her fingers around the wet flesh and had her stroke it from base to tip. The man beneath her writhed and groaned.

She kept stroking, feeling how the vein on the underside of the cock throbbed. Then the organs lying atop her ass shifted, moving down to rest against her anus and pussy. They pressed inside, spreading her open as they traveled deep.

The fevered tip of another cock stroked across her lips. Her tongue reached out to taste, and the spicy-sweetness of the alien’s natural lubrication filled her senses. She parted her lips wider, her whimpers begging him to fill her.

He did so, sliding towards her throat slowly so that she could indulge in his flavor. The man’s smaller cock slid beneath her chin as he traveled towards the back of her throat. Iris held her breath and swallowed, trying to take him as deep as possible, wanting all she could get of him.

As he drew back out, the man behind her did the same. At that same moment, the man beneath her shifted. Something warm enclosed her clit, bringing a flush of heat flaring inside her. Despite that rush of warmth, her skin ran with gooseflesh and her hair stood on end. Pressure dragged on the tiny button. He had his mouth on her nubbin and was sucking hard.

Iris had only a moment to give a strangled cry before the cock in her mouth pushed forward again, cutting her off.

She was lost in the wild sensations of being fucked in the mouth, ass, and pussy while her clit was suckled. The man’s rough tongue flicked gently over the tip of her swelling flesh as he drew on her. Climax was galloping at headlong speed, overtaking her, slamming into her, billowing through her, disintegrating her.

Iris came back to her senses by degrees to discover the two men in front and behind continued to slowly fuck her. The tongue scraped against the sides of her clit intermittently. Iris discovered she still held a cock in her hand. A flush of embarrassment overcame her and she stroked him once more, matching the rhythm of the other two men.

She didn’t want to simply enjoy the attention. She wanted to have them enjoy as well. Yet when the pace increased and friction brought fresh cascades of heat to make her gasp, the mouth beneath her attached itself to her engorged clit once more and sent her flying again.

They kept at her, bringing her twice more. Her work on the lover beneath her was erratic, and Iris was sure he was getting little enjoyment from the encounter. So she was shocked when she emerged from yet another cataclysm to find expulsions of thick fluid pulsing over her breasts and belly. The groans of the man beneath her confirmed passion had been realized.

The other two were driving hard with quick, short strokes, breathing in grunts. Iris recognized they were closing in on their own ends moments before it happened. Abruptly the cock in her ass jerked as it filled her with warmth, then hot fluid exploded on her tongue.

When they’d finished straining against her, Iris at last opened her eyes to see who she’d enjoyed where. It was Jol who knelt before her and Ospar behind. Rivek laid beneath her, a contented smile on his face.

The men bundled her off to the bathing pool in the facility off the room. They washed her gently, taking care of her as they had since she’d met them. Abruptly, Iris began to cry.

They immediately fussed over her, exclaiming with concern. “No, no,” she said. “You did nothing wrong. Everything you do is right, and I love you so much. If Thomas and I lost you—”