Page 49 of Sawoots Story

What if they lose themselves?

I’ve felt the draw towards the triad since I first saw them. But they were different. They had none of the hateful qualities of the alien species. The Mating Rage will wash away everything that makes them different—and after, when I’m not the one woman they can Bond to, I’ll have to confront the truth.

The Mating Urge was the only thing that made them act different in the first place.

Unease gnaws in me, competing against the need.

Tar’ank, Markrin and their leader stare at me as the door closes behind them. The roomy diplomat’s chambers feel like a closet.

Garrick strides to me. His handsome, broad face is reassuring, in a strange way, but his eyes make me uncomfortable. Slate grey, they seem to be without emotion, a being that acts according to law and honor and a rigid moral code. He’d stand seven feet tall without his thick, steel-toed combat boots. He towers over me, and a delicious edge of fear comes to my arousal.

These aren’t men.

These are huge beasts, and I’ve made them snap. I’ve set events in motion I can’t take back. They will pick me up and push me against the bed. They will fuck me one by one, pumping their huge dicks into me while I whimper and moan. I’ll be pressed down by five hundred pounds of muscle and power as they break me, making me theirs.

I didn’t think this plan out well. I need to be able to slip away at the exact moment Theme will open the doors. It’s not just going to be the Aurelians that keep me in this room.

Once they start, I’m never going to want them to let me go.

Fuck.There’s something happening to me. I’ve never felt this way. This pull. This need for a man that makes me vulnerable.

I don’t do vulnerable.

Garrick stops two feet from me. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He blinks, his eyes refocusing, and hesitates. “You’re our prisoner, Sawoot.”

His voice is raw, filled with heat as he fights back the Mating Rage. That broad, handsome face is all hard lines, his teeth clenched together so tight his jaw muscles bulge out as he holds himself back. He’s a tragic beauty, made all the more gorgeous by his honor, yet about to lose it to his baser urges.

There’s a low growl from Tar’ank. He’s the most brutal of the triad, a primal animal losing control. His light-armor bulges from his bowling ball shoulders. I shiver as his slate-grey eyes devour me, and if I don’t stop this now, he’s going to push me against the wall andtakeme. I have a feeling words aren’t going to do anything when he snaps and rips off my clothes. Markrin, who I thought was the most reserved of the three, has his lips drawn back, showing his bright white teeth. His neck artery throbs as the Mating Rage flows through his veins.

The three of them are designed for two purposes. Fighting and mating.

Now I’m all alone, with only a slip of a dress between me and their might, and there’s not much fight I could put up even if I wanted to. I breathe in, smelling the individual, manly musks of the aliens, a scent that turns me on more.

“It’s okay.” I gasp out the words. I’m never like this. I’m always relaxed and self-assured around men, even the kind who intimidate other men. These three are like no others. They make me feel so small, so helpless, and it’s not just the size difference.

I’m helpless in my lust. I’m on fire. My nipples have hardened to desperate points, and I’m slick between my legs. I step back, unable to stop myself, and nearly trip. Garrick steps forward again, his big boot clunking against the floor, and the next step back I hit the wall.

I’m trapped with the Aurelians.

He steps forward, raising his hand and brushing it under my chin. Even in his need, he manages to hold back, touching me like I’m a wounded bird. I don’t know why he cares so much about me. I get a wave of protectiveness from his, and even in his alien grey eyes I see a hint of caring.

He leans down and kisses me, and Gods, I realize I’ve never been kissed before. I’ve pressed my lips against a man’s, but I’ve never been truly kissed. His huge hand cradles the back of my head, protecting it from the hard wall as his tongue swirls past my lips, claiming me.

I press my hands against his chest, but I doubt he even notices them. He slides his big leg forward between my legs, spreading me open easily, and I get a rush of lust. He’s just so in control.

There’s a snarl like a wolf from behind him, and Garrick breaks off the kiss, turning to face his second in command. Tar’ank’s hands are clenched into fists, and his eyes roll back, the Mating Rage burning away his honor and turning him into a rutting beast.

I reach my hand into Garrick’s pocket, feeling for the scanning card that will get us into the Reavers and off this ship. I feel the hard plastic of the card…and the huge, throbbing thickness of his cock. He’s hard as a rock. It snakes down his leg, fighting against his combat pants, and my cheeks go red. There’s no way that could fit in me. His cock spurts a jet of Aurelian pre-cum, and I feel it seeping through his pants, designed to let him force that massive thing into me.

I get a surge of guilt, but I have to make my choice.

I’m first mate. Tasha is depending on me. I take the card, palming it.

Or maybe that’s a cop-out to deny myself what I really want because I’m scared of feeling helpless.

Tar’ank backs down. I don’t know how I know. It’s a slight movement and aversion of his gaze. I knew from the first second Garrick was the leader of the triad. There’s a pecking order, and he’ll take me first.

I don’t know if this will work. He might be too far gone.

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