[Menage Amour ManLove: Alternative Adventure Fantasy Futuristic Menage a Trois Paranormal Science Fiction Romance, MMM, HEA]
Decades of searching and fighting has taught Azakeen one thing. He's done with fighting, and he's found his two mates, Alkan, a fellow Jorzzon warrior, and the sultry Jeboo demon, Frey Dristral. After a decree by the formidable Jeboo empress, Firth, there's hope for them, but Frey is terrified that his family will try to interfere. Despite the new law, they're against any inter-species mingling. Added to which, they discover a plot to undermine the new alliance between Jorzzon and Jeboo, and need to take down a deadly enemy of Azakeen's, his brutal successor to the Jorzzon 2nd Division, Chakron. All good fun. Azakeen and Alkan don their battle armor again, determined to bring Frey back to their arms, and defeat all those who seek to create chaos in the new peace of Planet Hydra. Jorzzon Invasion, anyone?
“What do you want?” Firth eyed her visitor with disdain.
Commander Chakron was someone who just naturally got her back up. He was a charlatan commander, not worthy of his role. Unlike Azakeen. Not a leader like his predecessor, merely a brutish killer. Chakron oozed malice. He was up to something. She just knew it.
“Do not take that tone with me, madam.”
“Dear man. You asked for an audience with the Empress. I would advise you to remove whatever it is that’s giving your attitude such a boost, or I will have your head removed and fed to my horde, deep-fried in your own blood.”
Chakron turned puce, his gold-rimmed eyes glittering with rage. He tossed his thick black braid in a show of pique, ham-sized fists clenched tightly. Every muscle in his body tensed, as though he prepared to pounce. She braced, ready to rip him apart if he dared lose control, but he regained a semblance of sanity, just in time. Disappointing, since she was quite hungry. Jorzzon blood was divine.
“I have news of one of your senior officers. Frey. View this, and see what I mean. This man is a disgrace.”
Firth took the disc, fingertips only, not wishing to sully her skin by touching Chakron’s ugly flesh. He was not battle-scarred like his warriors, which repulsed her. She preferred to see the badges of honor, as Azakeen wore. A man of Chakron’s reputation should be covered in the marks of his race. Either he’d had Botox, or his status was seriously exaggerated. She had the feeling that Chakron delegated a lot.
Shoving the disc into a drive, she watched the ensuing sex show with interest. She was more than a little turned on by the sight of Azakeen, former commander of the 2nd Division, his former lieutenant, Alkan, and Frey, one of her most trusted officers in a stunning display. Azakeen moved with such grace. His huge dick was a thing of beauty, and the evidence of love in his eyes did much to enamor Firth to him even more. Azakeen truly cared for his mates. Which was enough for Firth. Why the fuck did Chakron think she’d be interested?
Eyes narrowed, she noted Chakron’s avid expression. He was attempting to be disgusted, but she saw the lust. What was his agenda? Sick freak. God but she hated politics.
“You spy on your own people? Two are warriors who’ve served your Jorzzon race with honor and are helping to protect refugees from persecution so they may find peace at last. The third is my soldier, as I’m sure you’re aware or you wouldn’t be here, you evil little gut-worm.”
“Then you’ll know that your soldier is breaking all kinds of taboos. His family has warned him against such associations. Your little half-breed prince is of no consequence. His desire for inter-breeding remains irrelevant. Frey, however, is playing with fire. I merely want to alert you, because I do not want to lose Azakeen or Alkan when the blood demons go berserk.
Firth angled her chin imperiously. “You’re concerned for your former commander and his lieutenant? How touching. Be sure, I will alert them to your machinations. My son can take care of himself. I will make sure he knows how irrelevant you think he is.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Don’t underestimate him, Chakron. He is twice the warrior you are.”
His smile was sharp and smug.
“I’m sure you’re very proud.”
He turned and left, flanked by two huge warriors who were disturbingly identical, like robots. She frowned after the trio. Chakron was a liability. She’d have to look into his conduct more carefully.
“He’s dangerous, Mother.”
Her son, Phenix, who preferred to be called Scrub, emerged from behind the curtain draped to the rear of the throne she sat on. Half Jixian and half Jeboo, he and Firth had only known one another for a few months and were working at the bonding process. Firth knew the slow progress could be laid at her door, since she’d deposited him on a ship, Goliath, and left him there. Goliath had been a notorious slave ship, but she’d thought he’d have a slim chance there with his bloodline rather than having to kill him herself, at her husband’s command. He was still working on forgiving her.
Firth shot him a fond look. “I know. He doesn’t want Azakeen or Alkan to live. Chakron’s baying for their blood. I recognize the signs.”
“You should. You display them often enough.”
She grinned unrepentantly. “Remind me who took out an entire squad of Jeboo on that slave ship, Goliath.”
He blushed. “That was to protect my mates.”
“And before that, the entire crew of Goliath.”
“I was hungry, and they were evil pieces of draggo dung. I spared the slaves, didn’t I?”
“This can’t work,” Frey whimpered against Azakeen’s mind-stealing lips. “You know it can’t work.” He arched his back, almost purring as Azakeen stroked his back, nibbling on his neck, sending Frey ever closer to a blissful crescendo.
“Give me your tongue,” Azakeen whispered, cupping Frey’s butt as he hauled the slender blood demon up his huge frame, thick fingers dipping along Frey’s shadowy crease. Naked, Frey writhed against the massive Jorzzon warrior, his thoughts splintering as Azakeen probed his tiny hole, maneuvering a meaty finger knuckle deep inside.
“That isn’t my tongue.”
Azakeen chuckled and fused his mouth to Frey’s, tagging Frey in a playful manner that never failed to enchant him. Who knew the big buffoon was such a goofball?
“Oh god. Alkan?”
His other Jorzzon warrior chuckled. “You were expecting someone else?”
Frey felt searing heat against his back and then massive hands caressing his bare flesh. His long swath of black, green, and purple hair was shoved aside, and new lips quivered along his slender neck. He turned his head, meeting Alkan’s sultry dark gaze, grunting as another finger worked its way into his butt.
“He’s tight,” Alkan murmured, nipping Frey’s ear and then swirling his tongue around the sensitive ridges and creases.
Frey moaned softly, writhing up and down on their fingers, his engorged cock grinding against Azakeen’s washboard abs. His cock was already dripping, painting Azakeen’s skin with dewy cream. He dreamed of licking the big Jorzzon all over but knew he’d have to make do with stolen moments. A full-on sex fest would be suicide. Some Jeboo, particularly his own family, did not approve of mixed matings, even though Frey was convinced his Jorzzon lovers were his mates. A race of blood demons, Jeboo were trying to cling onto the old ways.
Despite his prince’s recent mating to a pair of aliens, he knew some of his kind would eviscerate him if they found out he’d sullied their pure-blood snobbery. Scrub was half-blood anyway, and they tolerated his union because his mother was their Empress. For Frey? Big fucking deal.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Alkan said, sandwiching Frey between the Jorzzons’ big bodies. “Let me take care of that.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Frey whined, shivering as a cool breeze wafted against his ass. He felt the fingers removed, and then slick, scorching heat returned, tapping against his quivering hole.
“Easy there, darling. Take me. All of me.”
Alkan shoved a couple of inches of his huge dick past the trembling ring of muscles guarding Frey’s hole. Frey loved the pinch, craved the burn as his over-stretched chute struggled to adapt. Grunting, Alkan performed a series of shallow thrusts, driving deeper with each stroke, driving Frey out of his mind.
Frey lost his cry of pleasure in Azakeen’s hungry mouth, kissing him with desperation borne of burgeoning love, and the frustration of having to keep his liaisons quiet.
Alkan growled softly, eyes slitted with pleasure, and bottomed out, his heavy ball sac slapping Frey’s taut ass. “Darling Frey. You’re always so delightfully responsive. You know we won’t let you go, don’t you?” Thrusting harder, he jolted Frey against Azakeen, driving another cry from Frey’s lips.
“I don’t want to let you go,” Frey told them. “But it can’t be. They’ll kill us all if they find out.”
Alkan replied with a barrage of hard thrusts.
“We can protect you,” Azakeen said. “Trust us. Your prince and your empress have given their consent to our mating. We will not allow you to be hurt.”
Frey chuckled hoarsely, bouncing vigorously in time to Alkan’s mad tempo. “There’s no ‘allowing’ involved. You’ll be dead if my family finds out. They’re the worst snobs in the universe. Bar none.”
“Stop talking,” Alkan grumbled, kneading Frey’s sleek buttocks in his ham-sized palms. “If you’re able to talk, I’m not doing it right.”
Frey laughed again and let his lover pummel him to a hard climax, arching his back as he splattered thick cum over Azakeen’s belly, his ass filling with Alkan’s searing load. Frey met Alkan’s lips, kissing him languidly in the aftermath, moaning again when Azakeen joined them, the three-way sloppy and totally delicious.
“My turn,” Azakeen drawled, lifting Frey off Alkan and then lowering him onto his own prong, hard as a nail.
Frey gasped, eyes half-closed, and gave himself to his lover. Azakeen was the slow and sultry kind, taking his time, fucking Frey’s cum-filled ass with a tenderness that never failed to wrench Frey’s heartstrings.
With Alkan playing a tune on his throat, kissing and nibbling his ears, and stroking his back, Frey was lost in a world of loving sighs and languid kisses. He wanted this. Wanted them. And knew his family would never allow it.