Page 73 of Sawoots Story

They want me.

They always want me.

The Bondthrumsin my mind. I’m bombarded by an image so crystal clear it feels real. I’m tied up in the pleasure room Garrick’s triad built on their space station, a room that’s never had a woman inside. They’ve described it. It is controlled by thoughts, the material of the floor and walls able to form tendrils that can hold you in place so you can’t move an inch while they do…

Whatever they want to me.

I’ll be on display, their perfect little toy, to be pleasured or punished at their whim.

“Fuck!” I gasp out as waves of arousal flood me. It’s not fair. Then again, I know it’s happening to the triad as well. I can feel in my mind that they are frustrated, their need boiling up. It’s just as powerful for both of us.

Tasha clenches her first. “This fucking Bond. It’s so much more intense than I expected. I don’t regret it…but Gods!”

I’m supposed to be the expert on Aurelians. I’ve found out I know nothing about them. “Will there ever be any relief?” I hold onto the table, white-knuckled, just waiting for another surge. If it comes I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from running to the workout room. My three men are straining and sweating, their muscles flexing as they lift weights or spar, three perfect embodiments of everything masculine.

Tasha bites her lip. “From what Aelon’s told me…it’s got one purpose. To sire sons for the Aurelians. Apparently we’ll know the second we’ll be impregnated. The Bond knows, and it gives us relief when it’s served the purpose.”

I run my hand through my hair, trying not to think about that. Sure, I’ve thought of having kids before, but it’s always been a faraway thought. I’d never bring a child into an unforgiving, heartless world if I couldn’t protect them.

I never met men like Garrick, Tar’ank, and Markrin.

His triad will be perfect fathers. I know my sons will have the protectiveness of Garrick, the honor of all three of them, and the intelligence and will of Tar’ank and Markrin. The way they fuck me, we’ll never know who is the father, and it won’t matter. I know they will love and raise them as their own.

But the thought of being pregnant…it’s not just the Bond making me ache for it. I’ve seen the holovids of Queen Jasmine. In her early reign, she used to put them out more often, proof that she was being bred over and over by her mighty triad led by Emperor Raegan. When she’s pregnant, her breasts swell up massively, filled with milk for her hungry Aurelian babes, her body changed by the Bond.

I try not to think of myself like that, because it will trigger wave after wave of arousal from the Bond until I run to the weight room and get on my hands and knees for my triad.

“And until then?” I grit my teeth, fighting off a wave of urges. They aren’t as strong as before. I can handle them.

“Alright, so I have a bit of a technique. It’s not perfect. But it worked when we were escaping.”

During our mad dash fromThe Instigator, she was Bonded to the Aurelians. I never wondered until now how they didn’t suspect us in the moments before Theme worked his magic on the control panel. Aelon must have been able to feel her aura.

“I’m desperate,” I say, as another wave of urges hits me.

I have to grip the table as hard as I can to stop myself from getting up and running to them. It’s hard to think when all I want to do is crawl to my triad and surrender to them.

There’s no relief until they seed me, and even then, the Bond is never dormant. My body is extra-sensitive to their touch, so that a graze of their fingers sends shudders through me.

I’ve been in bliss for the last two days, endlessly being taken by them.

Bliss so intense I feel like my mind is being melted.

“Okay, Sawoot, close your eyes.” I shut them tight. “Now feel their auras in your mind. I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but mine are sort of…colors. Now you know when someone is talking but you’re not really listening? The words are still there, but you can sort of…tune them out.”

I reach out, feeling the auras of my men. Garrick, golden, honorable, protective. Tar’ank, brute violence, quicksilver and always ready for a fight. Markrin, warm, malleable bronze, full of worshipful need to bring me to heights of pleasure I can’t handle.

I tune them out. I push them away. The auras grow distant, the colors and feeling of their moods muted. It takes a constant mental energy to keep them at bay.

I asked them not to telepath to me while I was with Tasha, telling them I needed a brief period alone with my friend. I feel edges of worry from their auras, so I know it’s working, and I know they can feel themselves being pushed away. They grow faint. They are still always in my mind, but I can only vaguely feel their direction when seconds ago I could have pinpointed them on a map.

I sigh, opening my eyes. Tasha is intently watching me. “Did it work?”

“Sort of. I can still feel them, but it’s less intense.” The Bondthrumsagain, as if to punish me for pushing them out, and I’m jolted out of my chair. I’ve taken two steps towards them before I regain control of my body. “Fuck! The Bond is still just as powerful. I’m glad I’m Bonded to them… I’m grateful for it, don’t get me wrong. I just hope I can find a way to control it,” I complain, rubbing my temples.

My nipples are rock hard, and there’s a desperate heat between my legs that will never cool until they’ve taken me again.

“Ugh, I know what you mean. I feel like I’m always waiting for it to hit. Let’s talk about something else and get our minds off it?”

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