Virile (5 page)

Groaning inwardly, Thorn schooled his features and moved to open the panel and usher Adara through to where their transport waited. She was going to test his patience the whole trip to the farm, especially when he wouldn’t allow himself carnal knowledge of her until with Kellis and Orion. He didn’t trust himself with her, at least not until she embraced her submissiveness and surrendered. At least she wasn’t the fragile flower he’d assumed her to be. Adara was a strong, powerful woman and a perfect mate for them all.

****

The mode of transportation he guided her to wasn’t like anything she’d seen before. It was quite large and would likely hold up to ten people. And it was armored, like the pictures she’d seen of military vehicles on gaming devices. Just how dangerous
was
Virile? Stepping inside, she cautiously sank down on a bench covered in a thick cushion. She controlled a wince, not wanting him to see how he’d affected her, but her bottom
hurt
. Much of the interior was filled with boxes and crates she believed she’d seen on the craft that brought her here, other benches folded up into the wall to make room. She realized they would make up into a large bed once the cargo was removed and wondered if the brothers used the vehicle for seduction or if sometimes they were required to use it as an abode. The front panels sported a myriad of lights and controls beneath a darkened expanse of glass. The suns hadn’t yet set so she supposed the glass had UV filters built in, as on her own planet, although they had but the one sun.

There was a tiny closet built into one wall, the crates stacked to give access to it. She stared at it.

“That contains facilities. One cannot relieve oneself outside of the vehicle, Adara. It is too dangerous unless someone is on guard, and you are not yet aware of what to defend against.”

Again she only nodded. While she was curious and actually quite interested in learning more about her home for the next month, she didn’t want to engage with her captor any more than absolutely necessary. Stockholm Syndrome was an ancient tale, but one still written in books, and she had read about it.

Thorn’s huff of breath definitely spoke of exasperation, but he didn’t say anything, merely taking his place beside her on the bench as the door sealed shut with an anguished hiss. The hum of electronics filled the silence as the interior darkened slightly and the controls illuminated to a greater degree. Adara watched his big hands dance over the panels in an orchestrated dance that spoke to long practice. Practice. She squinted her eyes and tried to remember Samuel’s lessons as the vehicle surged into motion and they were away, the port receding in the distance. There was nothing ahead but the beginning of darkening shadows as the suns began to sink beneath the horizon, throwing the last of the golden rays against the desiccated earth.

“Remove the dress.”

Holy angels. Any sense of calm dissipated. Trying to control her breathing, aware that his peremptory order somehow made her pussy damp, Adara obeyed. She didn’t want another
lesson
. The material caressed her skin as she awkwardly pulled it from beneath her thighs and buttocks and then past her waist to tug it over her head. Thorn took it from her and tossed it behind them.

“You will be naked with us unless we tell you differently.”

She couldn’t help but glance out the window.

“We will protect your privacy, Adara, as you will come to learn, unless we find sharing your beauty is something you require.”

“Sharing? With more than you and your brothers?” Her voice squeaked with horror, and she swallowed against bile.

His tone turned cold, and he fixed that disturbing gaze on her. “No one will touch you other than us three, Adara.”

So what did he mean by sharing? She wanted to ask, but he forestalled her. “As with everything we possess, we are proud to show others.”

A possession. She’d do well to remember that. The flattery seemed unnecessary or perhaps it was their way of talking to women they planned to use. They owned her for the next while and if they wanted to display her like a prize cow—or whatever passed for a cow here—then that’s what they would do. So others wouldn’t be allowed to touch her, merely ogle her—if she required it. Again, she struggled with conflicting emotions just thinking about it. She never thought she held exhibitionistic tendencies and certainly didn’t consider her plump body something people would want to look at, but Thorn didn’t seem to think that was the case. She shrugged, involuntarily. They would do what they would with her, and she would survive it.

“I feel your conflict, little one. You will come to trust that we will know what is best for you, what will give you pleasure and make you come to appreciate your worth. Now get over my lap.”

She wanted to refuse, or at least protest, then acquiesced, her breasts resting on the seat cushion just on the other side of his thigh, her belly centered on his thighs. The thick ridge of his erection nestled into her ribs as she turned her head to lay her cheek on the seat. She was probably going to get another ass whacking because she’d
hesitated
for god’s sake. A popping sound filled her ears, and something cool and viscous drizzled across her butt. She shivered, and his big warm hand swept into the substance, smoothing it across her ass and down over her thighs. It quickly warmed, the sensation deepening as it worked in and eased any residual soreness.

“Hitch up, Adara. Come up a little onto your knees. Separate them but not so much you will fall from the bench.”

Gods. What was he planning to do? The tender care of her bottom confused her, and she didn’t want to risk him changing his mind. As she followed his directions, more of the same mixture dropped to ooze between her buttocks, followed by what had to be his fingers. One teased the gel over her back entrance, and she clenched against it. That earned her a smack, the sound reverberating in the close confines of their vehicle, but it didn’t really hurt. It did get her attention, as if him messing with her back there hadn’t.

“Relax and do not fight me, little one. This will not hurt you. A little uncomfortable perhaps, different, but if you cooperate it will go more easily.”

Fine for him to say—he wasn’t the one being penetrated in a hole that no one other than her doctor had seen. And her physician touched her only briefly. Thorn was spending a lot of time there, and she was positive she hated the edgy, forbidden feeling. The gel heated her up too. Embarrassment and humiliation overwhelmed her, and she whimpered before she could bite the sound back.

“Shhh, Adara. This part of you will be well used, and you must be prepared so as not to experience injury. Deep breaths, agapi mou.”

She breathed deeply and did her best to relax, wondering what language he spoke and what agapi mou meant. Probably nothing flattering seeing as he was now pushing one of those big fingers inside her bottom hole. She wanted it out and pushed tight with her muscle there. He slid in deeper—a lot deeper. If he went farther, she’d feel him in her chest.

Pulling that devilish finger out, he shoved back in before she could appreciate its loss. In and out it went, sometimes deeper, sometimes shallower. Just as she became used to the sensation another blunt finger joined the first, and she writhed to get away.
Too big, too much.
His other hand descended upon the small of her back and pinned her.

“Please,” she begged. “I don’t like it.”

“You will, little one. Accept it now. There is no option.” He pushed in and separated those big digits, stretching her ever wider. He wasn’t rough with her, although she wouldn’t say he was being gentle either. Deep breaths didn’t help as much, and the bite of pain made her screw her eyes shut to hold back the tears. Her mouth opened to cry out when the jangling spits of pleasure overrode the pain. Thorn must have recognized the change in her response because he rubbed her back in concert with the movement of his fingers deep in her back channel. He sank those appendages in until she felt them stop as the palm of his hand rested on her ass cheeks. Untried nerve endings sparked around them, and she clenched.

“Ah, there you go. Such a tight little fist around me. You will bring us such pleasure, just as we will bring you the same.” He pulled them back, dragging along the walls of her passage, then pushed back in, repeating the action several times. Adara wanted to squirm and press her pelvis against his thigh. Thorn the arrogant mind reader removed his hand from her back and leaned away far enough to slide it under her, unerringly finding her sweet button. An orgasm hovered just within reach.

“You will not come.”

“What?” Oh boy, that was her incredulous response. She wanted to go over, immediately, if not sooner, and where was her resolve to suffer what they put her through and keep herself above it all?

“There is more, and you will not come until I say you can.”

More. The need to come dissipated like mist in front of a raging wind. More as in another brother? A cousin? Thorn’s fingers retreated out of her body, leaving a strange, empty feeling—but not for long.

“You are so beautiful here, agapi mou. Your tiny opening is stretched like a little mouth. Now, deep breath.”

She sucked one in to ask him what he was going to do when an unforgiving, hard object pressed in to replace his fingers. There was no quarter as he inserted it, and no apparent end to it either, although it got bigger with each advance. But his clever touch on her clit distracted her a little, and a twist of the object took her breath as the more rapid rubbing at her apex increased. It abruptly became too much. The thing narrowed and her walls clamped around it. She climaxed, biting her tongue to contain the accompanying sound. She wanted to deny him that for using his experience against her. She wanted to hang on to her umbrage, sensing that it might be the only thing to protect her very essence from this man who seemed determined to take it all and they’d just fucking well met!

“There, little one.” A gentle pat over the base of the godsdamned object accompanied Thorn’s satisfied comment and she tensed, waiting for whatever came next. But he merely stroked over her buttocks while the hand beneath her cupped her sex in a curiously comforting manner.

“Scoot backwards to pillow your head in my lap,” he instructed, and she did as he bade her, the hardness in her back entrance inhibiting her motions. She shivered a little, the heat of his assault on her anus and ensuing climax leeching away. There was an immediate click, and warm air flowed down around her naked form.

“Sleep, agapi mou. It is still a fair piece to travel, and you have experienced considerable today.” His speech, the choice of words and syntax dragged over her ears, and she considered that his native language was definitely not hers. Wonderful. The brothers could communicate with one another and leave her guessing. She should have spent more time learning about Virile and less on submission. As far as she could tell, Thorn, and probably Orion and Kellis would tell her what to do, do things to her and she would comply or get punished. Submission was just another word for dumb obedience, and while it vexed her, she could probably act the role—unless she allowed them to get inside her head. In that case, they would see her for who she really was and it wouldn’t go well for her. On that sober thought, she fell asleep.

Chapter Three

Thorn permitted himself a small smile of satisfaction. Adara had done well in accepting the plug. There was no reason to waste the time on their journey to the farm. They would soon be taking that sweet ass, and she required careful preparation, obviously being an anal virgin. His cock clamored to be the first, harnessed behind the tight fabric of his pants while Adara’s little puffs of heated breath teased it as she slept. He could have tucked her into one of the other benches, all of them equipped with restraints and other devices to secure a sub for their pleasure, but couldn’t bear to be apart from her. The gentle weight of her head on his thighs soothed even as it aroused him. He expected her to feel space lagged and require periods of rest. He now believed they wouldn’t have to wait to take her, and the thought was thrilling.

Scanning first the horizon and then his instruments, he turned his gaze to the lovely length of her curvy body. She had shuffled onto her side in her sleep to face him, and one pert breast peeked from beneath her arm, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. Regrettably, her knees were bent and blocked the view of her fragrant cunt.
 
Her orgasm had been gentle, and he was aware she’d tried to hide her response, but that would be the last time she would hide from him. Or his brothers. Sharing in her pleasure would crumble the walls she was trying to erect between them and keep them down. They would overwhelm her and take her heart and soul when she offered it, truly surrendering to them.

A low warning buzzer pulled his attention back to the task at hand. He touched a few places on the navigation screen and snapped to protect mode in an instant. The figures ahead weren’t native to the planet, not animals that would either flee or give grudging way to something larger and obviously faster than they were. Outlaws. And the fact they weren’t attempting to move or seek cover meant they were planning a confrontation.

“Adara!” She came awake at the urgency in his tone much like a soldier in the trenches, alert and looking to him for instructions. His pride surged to match his cock.

“What is it?” She rose to her knees, and the enticing sway of her breasts distracted him momentarily.

“Outlaws, I believe. Dress and strap into the bench in the back behind the cargo. Prepare for considerable turbulence. I may be forced to take flight.” Flying wasn’t safe now the suns were nearly down, but he wouldn’t tell her that. The gravitational shifts stymied even the best air to ground pilots as the winds followed the solar energy.

With a wide-eyed glance, she slipped from sight, and he heard the rustle of fabric over the sound of additional warning buzzers. She didn’t know him, yet her inner submissive recognized its Master and innately trusted him. There were no questions or paralyzing fear, merely simple obedience.

The scanners were picking up more shapes, some of them emerging from camouflage. Godsdamn them. They were adapting to the climate, improving their technology and getting smarter with their forays against others. He sent an update to the farm, and Orion responded almost instantly, waiting, no doubt, in great anticipation for their bride. Thorn’s belly clenched at the thought of those outlaws getting their hands on Adara then pushed the idea from his brain.
Not happening.

Rather than risk distracting Thorn with a verbal reply, Orion’s message flashed on screen. He and Kellis would be on route in a minutia along with a complement of their hands. Thorn didn’t plan to stop, but rather try to move about through the staggered clumps of outlaw vehicles, seeking a weak spot. Unless they were really well coordinated—or armed with armor piercing weaponry—he could do so for some time, at least until reinforcements arrived.

“Are you all right, Adara?” There had been no sound since he’d started taking evasive maneuvers.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, with a thread of apprehension, but he took her at her word. There would be time later to comfort her. He concentrated on his tactics when a burst of energy knocked the carrier sideways. Hades’ teeth. They had bolt weapons, and another hit would fry his electronics and force him to drive without the assistance of the computer.

A check of the pod indicators confirmed that he wouldn’t be flying—the energy bolt had polarized the flight injectors. Gritting his teeth he drew on every skill he possessed to evade the outlaws. The bolt weapon sounded again but missed, and he marked its position, taking a precious second to alert his brothers, using the text mode, unsure if the enemy could intercept verbal communication.

Like a game of grimalkin and murine they sparred. Thorn hated playing the part of rodent, far more used to swiping with claws and superior strength. His brothers and the farm hands could travel more quickly given their cargo-free craft and smaller, more efficient engines, but now he wondered if he could give them enough time for a dramatic rescue. As if the enemy had anticipated his fear, an energy bolt sizzled and forced him to manual, the heavy vehicle challenging even his great strength, being designed for two operators. He’d been a fool to think he could take this most important journey without another male as back up. An arrogant, greedy fool, wanting to be the first to lay eyes on their intended in the flesh—so to speak.

The outlaws pulled closer and limited his field of evasion until he had the choice of slamming into one of them or standing down. He chose to stop and trust to the armor—he had weapons aboard and could defend the craft for some time if the armor held. If only there was enough time…

His com unit crackled, and a disembodied voice came forth.
Surrender the craft and its cargo. We will spare you.

Sure they would. They’d kill him and make off with the craft, cargo and Adara. If it was just him he might consider trusting them, but he would never risk her. His blood chilled and ran sluggishly through his veins. If Orion and Kellis didn’t arrive in time and the outlaws breached the armor—

“Thorn?” Adara’s voice was thin with anxiety. He killed the com and set the systems to standby, once again checking the safe mode—intact.

“We must wait for reinforcements, agapi mou.” He ensured his tone communicated nothing but certainty and calm.

“Can I have a gun or something?”

Despite himself he whirled to stare at her, now disengaged from the seat and standing in her bare feet by a large crate marked
Apparel
. She held his gaze, green eyes clear and reflecting determination with a hint of fear. The rush of emotion squeezed his heart like a giant fist, and his knees weakened in the face of it. Their own redheaded woman, strong and powerful where it counted. Her surrender would be the greatest prize—if he lived long enough to see it.

Masking his feelings he moved to the weapons locker, sliding yet another crate out of the way. He withdrew two hand weapons and passed one to Adara who took it gingerly. He grabbed a long weapon with a sight and tucked the other into his belt.

“This dial indicates it is charged. Do not point it at anyone unless you intend to use it and depress this—” He showed her the trigger. “Be prepared for it to jolt in your hand, perhaps hold it in both hands, and do not drop it. And little one? Whatever you hit will fall and die, armor or no.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, but she nodded her understanding.

“Say it back to me.” He knew it was likely unnecessary, but as with anything he or his brothers communicated to her, they would ensure she understood to avoid misunderstandings. Her language was their second one, after all.

“The green dial says it’s charged, point it like you mean it, shoot and people die.”

He studied her face. She was very pale but resolute so he touched her cheek gently and momentarily celebrated the fact she didn’t flinch from him. Perhaps this danger would serve to draw them together and make her training less difficult. The com crackled again. Same message, delivered with a deadline.

“You could negotiate with them,” Adara offered. “Stall.”

“Outlaws don’t negotiate, little one.”

“Everyone negotiates, Thorn Freestar. Especially those who think they are in a position of power and wish to gloat. Edicts are fine, but most people like to see others squirm.”

Thorn read between the lines, or behind them, and was amused at how adroitly she painted the parallel, despite the fact she was absolutely wrong. He and his brothers would never gloat—feel great satisfaction, yes, at her surrender, but never smugness. The faint scorn in her voice was detectable, and that would be punishment number two.

There would definitely be a letter board in the pleasure room, hung at Adara’s height so she might easily enter her indiscretions as she made them. Although positioning the board higher and watching her stand on tip-toe to write those things would be an arousing sight, her lovely legs straining and full breasts lifting with her effort. He moved to the com unit, recognizing how his fantasies were distracting him.

“Who are you?” He ensured his voice snapped with additional authority.

“We have no names nor hold a rank, Freestar. We have nothing, so wish to relieve you of your cargo.”

“How do I know you will honor your word?”

A coarse, phlegmy chuckle preceded the retort. “Oh, we’re an honorable lot, Freestar. That’s why we’re outlaws. Your time is running out.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thorn saw Adara lean toward the com and her lips part. He managed to silence the unit before she spoke, and the rage of pure terror poured over him. She either saw or felt it and backed away, the hand weapon dangling from her fingertips, eyes wide with fear. She tightened her grip on the weapon but kept moving until she came up against the wall. He couldn’t spare the time to explain, so contented himself with a glare and a growled, “Keep silent.”

At her instantaneous nod, he flipped the com back on and told the outlaws he would consider their request. As Adara predicted, there was a spirited exchange, eventually culminating in a final demand for immediate surrender, but it bought them enough time. His scanners picked up the telltale image of three craft approaching at a quick pace, and it appeared the outlaws received the same news because there was a flurry of sound and movement and a hasty retreat.

Thorn casually approached Adara and relieved her of the weapon, pretending not to notice the way she pulled into herself. He needed to move past his earlier reaction, the adrenaline now handicapping his fine motor skills and leaving his muscles drained, before he raised his hand to her. Inwardly he sighed at the prospect of yet another correction after the recent fright, but it had to be done. Adara had much to learn.

Double checking the image relayed from the scanner on the door, he opened it to his brothers. Orion and Kellis were covered in body armor and bristled with weapons, and their features were strained. They charged past him and stumbled to a halt as they spied their woman cringing against the wall of the craft.

“What has he done to you, my love?” Trust Kellis to recover first and pollute the very air with his charm. “Or are you still afraid of the outlaws?”

Thorn snorted. “She was hardly afraid, Kellis. She asked for a weapon and was about to
negotiate
with them!”

Kellis’s affect altered immediately. “Negotiate? She was going to let them know she was on board?” The astonishment was overlaid with the same angry fear Thorn had experienced first hand.

Orion shook his head, nearly bristling with upset. “Ah, my sweet. You have no idea—”

“Godsdamn right! I don’t have
any
idea!” Adara’s shrieked protest made them flinch in surprise and silenced Orion. “I was trying to help Mr. Arrogant there, and he nearly scared me to death me with his response! And he just
looked
at me to do it!”

Kellis clearly fought a smile at Thorn’s expense and Orion arched a brow, but they began as one to divest themselves of their gear. They left it to Thorn to deliver the bad news, but he figured he was man enough. Their woman was giving his inner Dom fits.

“Remove your dress, Adara.”

She gasped and tried to become one with the wall. “No.”

Orion blinked, and Thorn knew he was going to ask Adara if she was going to use her safe word. He wouldn’t have it. Their intended wasn’t merely a sub. She was their bride and as such would accept their edicts. There would be no safe word.

“I will add ten for every minute you balk, little one.” Both of his brothers shifted their stance but didn’t gainsay him.

“You’re going to spank me again? Because I nearly spoke to those outlaws?”

Kellis pitched his voice low in an obvious effort to calm her. “Had they learned a woman was aboard they would have stormed the craft, killed Thorn and made you wish for death. The cargo would have been the least of their concern. Harming you in the battle wouldn’t have mattered to them. They would have used you regardless, perhaps used you had you been killed in the attack. They are not particular.”