Page 93 of Sawoots Story

Tar’ank’s staring straight at me, licking his lips. He can sense my need through my aura. His biceps flex, those bowling ball muscles straining against his shirt as he holds back…barely.

His eyes capture me. I can’t pull away from his gaze as he licks his lips, and I shudder as I imagine his huge tongue lapping over my body.

I almost ask Larixa to leave so Tar’ank can come in and fuck me hard and fast in the private room. The words almost spill out before I realize it’s the lust talking, not me. I force it down. I need to prove to myself I can resist.

And the more I resist…

The better it feels to finally surrender.

“Bad one?”

“Yeah. Real bad. You might have saved my mind with this,” I say, breaking free of Tar’ank’s piercing gaze and picking up the ring, spinning it in my fingers.

“Enjoy it. I think you’ll find it makes giving in all the more fun,” she says, grinning wickedly. I palm the ring, using sleight of hand I haven’t needed in months, remembering the old days when it was Tasha and I against the universe. I debate another round of beer, but it’s more fun getting drunk on pleasure with my triad than it is to drink.

Plus, I want my wits about me.

Even in the pleasure room, I’m not fully safe. The last time, our fun was interrupted by alarm bells and flashing red lights, and I thought we were going to war.

I tap the table. “Have a good one,” I say, and leave Larixa behind as I go to the main bar.

Tar’ank is undressing me with his eyes. I’m not looking forward to spilling that I have a Bond-Disruptor ring to him. He’s going to be furious. But on the other hand…

I’m feeling like my old, mischievous self again. The Bond is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced, but I don’t want to lose who I am.

“Buy me a drink, big guy?” I say to Tar’ank, giving him a grin as I sit to his right. He towers over me. He had to have a custom stool built for him, and you better believe there’s not a man in the station who would dare clamber onto it.

“You better come with me before I rip your pants off in public,” he says, under his breath, just loud enough that the barkeep pretends not to be eavesdropping while he leans in.

I giggle, letting him take my hand and lead me away. I always liked rough, aggressive guys, the kind with big strong jaws and noses that had seen a punch or two in their days, and Tar’ank knows how to push my buttons just by existing.

The Bond doesn’t seem so scary anymore, with this ring in my hand. I can take everything good from our link without worrying about being so desperate that I lose my mind…

As long as my triad accepts it. They will. I know they will. The thing they care most about is me, and if I tell them I need it, they’ll see reason.

I hope.

Tar’ank leads me out the bar and into the main strip of the station. The space station is cool, big and airy, all metal and hard edges and places unexplored. It cost a damn fortune despite not being pretty. Garrick and Markrin step out of the huge warehouse that’s being converted into a weapons factory.

It isn’t just the repair and armor business that’s booming. Suddenly, everyone’s interested in turning their weak mining beams into legal beams weapons. We specialize in upgrading them until they are right at the verge of the Human Alliance’s power restriction on mining tools. Markrin dusts off his hands, like he was doing real work and not just using it as an excuse to be near me.

Even here, on our space station in Human Alliance territory, so far from where the Priests would logically strike, they’re protective verging on paranoid.

The Bondthrums.I gasp, falling into Garrick’s arms. He catches me before I hit the ground, and I love how strong he is. I look up at my man, running my hands over his chest. He towers over me, but he never thinks less of me, not even for a second. I can feel the pride he has to be my Mate through his aura.

He’s in a sweater that bulges out everywhere from his muscles, stretched out along his broad shoulders. I’m glad they aren’t so paranoid they feel like they need to wear combat armor inside our home station. Markrin’s in a long-sleeved tee. I picked out a tight one from a passing merchant, who tailored him a set of thirty matching shirts that show off his lean, lithe physique.

They were bursting out of their clothes after the Bond shaped them, magnifying their muscles and growing even their bones to make the towering Aurelians even more intimidating.

I tuck my fingers under his sweater, feeling his taut, ridged abs, and brace myself for their reaction when I show them the ring.

Should I enjoy myself first?

It would be so easy to melt under their bodies in the pleasure room. Even easier to let them pull me into the warehouse and have their way with me. I’d be rewarded by that rush of pleasure when they cum, the wave of endorphins and dopamine so intense it’s better than any drugs.

I fight for control. It’s a losing battle. I push at Garrick’s hand, stopping him from groping my ass and lifting me.

He could do it, so easily, fighting past my resistance and claiming me. My pussy clenches in need, tingling for the alpha, as I imagine him pulling me into the warehouse and pressing me against the wall and justtakingme. I gasp, fighting down the lust that’s all mine. I can’t blame the way he makes me feel on the Bond.

---