[Menage Amour ManLove: Alternative Adventure Fantasy Menage a Trois Science Fiction Romance, MMM, sex toys, HEA]
Claye Dell'Moraz is on a mission. Warn the people of Dwardan of the impending invasion...only he's too late. Suddenly he finds himself guardian to two special empaths and their three pets. The empaths were orphaned during the deadly raid on their village, and flee ahead of the private army tasked with retrieving them. Claye's pursued by two other dangerous creatures, Gamma alphas Jazz and Ammo, who he stole from, and who are certain he's their mate. Claye is not ready to settle down, quite happy to be a specialist trader, bartering goods across the universe. Running to Planet Hydra, he's only a few steps ahead of the lusty alphas, and finds himself in the middle of a triad of trouble, afraid that he's falling for the men. Can his mates break through the barrier to his heart? Is Claye up to the task of protecting the young empaths from the dreaded Oxley Corporation? One thing is certain—he's about to find out what he's made of.
Claye awoke, yawning, to find three critters sitting on his chest, their black fur tickling his nose. Gray eyes blinked at him, diamond bright, and sharp fangs peeped as they grinned wolfishly. One licked his chin, yowling impatiently.
“Gannak monsters, eh?” he said, stroking them in turn. “Does this mean you’re hungry or need to pee?”
Yowling more loudly, they nudged Claye, producing a curious sound that resembled a tiny engine being driven at high speed. It was endearing.
“Well, I’ll put a mat down, and you can piss on that. Or whatever. Follow me into the bathroom, would you? Then I can flush it.”
He leaped from the bed and heard the click of claws as they followed. Smiling, he had to admit they were cuties. Balls of black fluff with huge paws. They seemed fairly intelligent, too.
“In here,” he replied.
“We were worried,” Elon said, peering around the door. “They don’t know the ship yet.”
“They’re smart. I’ll get them some food while you watch them.”
“Are we safe here?” Emmisse asked.
“This is Hydra,” Claye said. “It’s remote, has virtually no population, and is off the Federation’s radar. We hopped into hyper-drive as soon as we could, and I left a false trail. If anyone finds us here, I’ll eat a fire berry.”
Elon giggled suddenly. “You’d better get ready to eat fire berries, then, because there’s another ship next to ours. It’s the same two guys from Dwardan.”
Claye stared, thinking he was joking, then swore. “Dammit!
Claye raced through the cabin to the hatch, peering through the small window to see a large ship sitting right beside them. Two men stood there, looking smug. Ammo and Jazz. Shit!
“Would you like me to get you the fire berries?”
“Funny,” he replied but smiled at Elon. “I guess I’d better get that fuel crystal.”
“You really have one?” he asked, following Claye to a locker in the aft cabin.
“You thought I was joking? I really did need it. I heard word that an enemy of mine was after me. I saw someone who worked for him at the same place where I met our friends down there.” He pointed in the direction of the other ship. “I had to leave. I thought maybe those two had tricked me. But I don’t know.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Throw the thing down and hope they leave.”
“What do you propose?” Claye asked, rolling his eyes.
“Invite them in to talk about it? You seem a little flustered. Perhaps you like them? And they seem okay.” Elon was reading Claye a little too easily. He had liked Ammo and Jazz. A lot. And he’d been devastated when he thought he’d been betrayed.
“Leave that thought alone, squirt,” Claye warned. “I don’t need partners.”
Elon tilted his head, frowning.
“I mean, I’ve got you and Emmy. I don’t need anyone else,” Claye added, retrieving the crystal.
Placing it into an ejector tube, Claye released the catch, allowing the thing to slide out, plopping out onto the ground. He met Ammo’s gaze, seeing the surprise in the man’s gorgeous blue eyes. Jazz, dark-eyed and ebony haired, stared at Claye with a mixture of curiosity and irritation…and hurt. He felt the weight of their accusation and scowled. Who were they to judge him?
“Talk to them,” Elon said, nudging Claye with his elbow. “Invite them to breakfast,” he added brightly. “And if they cause trouble, I’ll get the mini monsters to eat them.”
Claye laughed, ruffling Elon’s green hair. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll scare them off.”
Elon tapped the side of his nose. “Don’t underestimate Gannak monsters,” he said. “They’re fierce and have some pretty neat skills.”
Claye tapped the com-link. “You have what you want, so why don’t you just leave,” he told the guys on the ground.
Ammo shook his head, gesturing to be let in. Claye scowled stubbornly. Ammo smirked back. Jazz said something to his friend, then grinned, as well. Those fuckers were up to something. Shit.
“Come on, Elon. Let’s eat.” Claye strode off, leaving Elon staring wistfully out the window before he eventually followed.
* * * *
“He’s not budging,” Jazz said.
“He gave us back our crystal.”
“He looked…sad,” Jazz suggested. “Hurt, even.”
“Yeah, I thought that, too. Stubborn, too.”
“Who was the little guy?”
“You think he has a kid?” Ammo asked.
“How should I know?” Jazz was trying to concentrate, but having no success bypassing Claye’s security system. The keypad was a tricky fucker. “Maybe it’s Claye’s brother.”
“The village,” Ammo suggested. “There were lots of children who died. Maybe this is a survivor?”
“I’ll be sure to ask, once I get to speak to them,” Jazz retorted.
“No need to snipe,” Ammo replied mildly, cuffing Jazz upside the head.
Jazz grinned at him. “No need to ask questions I have no answer to,” he shot back.
The outer door slid open suddenly, startling them, and a little girl stood there, clutching a small ball of black fluff with gray eyes and big feet. “Who are you?” she asked, big blue eyes blinking curiously.
“Hey, little one,” Ammo replied, smiling. “We’re, uh, friends of Claye’s.”
“Uh-uh. If you were friends, he wouldn’t have run away from you. He said he borrowed something from you, and you betrayed him by inviting some bad men to the place where he met you. He had to leave because of them.”
“Bad men?” Jazz asked, frowning.
“He said they were enemies,” the child related. Her green hair was beautiful, catching the light like fish scales, framing a narrowish face.
“We didn’t invite anyone,” Jazz insisted. “May we come in to explain?”
She tilted her head, studying them carefully. “If you hurt our friend, I’ll get my brother to box your ears,” she said, turning away.
“We promise we won’t hurt Claye. Or anyone else here,” Ammo told her, stalking up the gangway, then high-fived his friend. They were in.
“Beautiful,” Jazz husked, rubbing his tongue against Claye’s belly, tangling with the jeweled adornment there. Moaning softly, Claye moved against the thick rod at his ass, remembering the feel of it deep inside. He pulled off the suit, dragging it down his thighs, his cock slapping Jazz’s face. He needed skin on skin.
Ammo stroked his flanks, nibbling a trail of fire along Claye’s neck, tilting Claye up for a hungry kiss. Claye moaned again as Jazz draped one thigh over his shoulder. Claye wore only his boxers, scarlet in hue and made of a rare silk, which were torn off quickly. Jazz’s stare turned feral as he gazed at Claye’s damp flesh and the narrow row of black curls adorning the root of his cock. He felt himself harden even more and moved restlessly as Jazz dipped in, his tongue flicking at Claye with sultry intent.
“Oh god,” Claye moaned against Ammo’s lips. “So hot. So fucking hot.”
Jazz’s tongue lashed out, finding Claye’s musky crease, then his hole, fucking Claye mercilessly. Ammo gripped Claye’s cock, jerking it seductively as Jazz tormented Claye further down. Claye came, stunned by the speed of his climax. That had never happened before. His body responded so intensely to his lovers, so perfectly in tune it left him reeling.
“Delicious,” Jazz growled approvingly. “Keep him there for me, Ammo. I can’t wait.” He began stretching Claye loosening him further, ready for entry. Claye was grateful for the attention. Jazz was not small. Jazz stripped, his dark eyes glowing with lust, turning Claye on even more.
Ammo nipped Claye’s lips, cupping his ass firmly, then pinching his nipples sharply. “I can’t wait to get inside you, Claye. This gorgeous ass of yours is so inviting. So hot and wet. And your mouth was exquisite. Tight and warm. You milked me of every drop of seed the last time.”
Claye groaned, watching through slitted eyes as Jazz rose, cock dripping, his length swollen and flushed with passion. He was thick and long, with ridges all the way down, finishing with an extra wide head. Donning a condom, Jazz slicked himself up with lube. He plunged inside Claye, sinking deep, then found Claye’s mouth as he filled him to perfection. Claye clutched his hips, balancing on one leg, gripping his waist. Hitching up, he clung like a limpet, his heel digging into Jazz’s ass as he dragged him closer. Ammo nibbled at Claye’s neck again, pinching his nipples more sharply, the slight sting adding to the eroticism as he tugged at the nipple rings. The head of Jazz’s cock stretched Claye wide, the ridged length stroking his insides in the best way. Claye lost his mind.
“So fucking good,” Jazz murmured, thrusting slowly as he kissed Claye. “So sweet and warm and wet.” His tempo increased, and he fucked harder, rolling his hips, then giving a sharp snap in alternate strokes. Claye arched his back, undone by the scent and taste and touch of his lovers. They surrounded Claye with heat and succulent flavor, their touch demanding all he had to give, expecting no less. And he gave. Willingly.
Ammo eased back a little, and Claye heard the rasp of his pants falling to the floor. “On the bed, Jazz,” he commanded urgently. “Let me take him, too.”
Jazz carried Claye, falling back on the mattress, letting Claye straddle him. Ammo moved in behind, stretching him further and adding more lube. Claye leaned forward, kissing Jazz greedily, moving sensuously atop him, fucking himself on his gorgeous cock. So fucking good. His ass shivered with each sultry stroke as Ammo prepared him to the rear. God he wanted these men. Deep inside, dual-fucking him into the mattress.
Claye sucked Jazz’s tongue, enjoying his flavor, writhing against him, gasping when Ammo began to enter as well. Claye tensed, pushing back against the advance, driving him deeper. That’s it. Fill me up. God, that feels amazing. So full. So deep.
Ammo bottomed out, panting as he blanketed Claye’s back, then began to thrust. Gently at first as they adjusted to the double fuck, then with more confidence. “Baby, you’re made for us,” he cried against Claye’s neck, muffling his moans of appreciation. Claye writhed between them, bouncing with each hard stroke. He shared kisses, turning to Ammo and then Jazz, the three never kissing together since his lovers were not intimate in that way. Sharing Claye’s aching ass was an incredible intimacy itself, but they had never, from what they’d already told Claye, been lovers themselves. They enjoyed sharing lovers. And Claye wasn’t complaining. There was something unbelievably close about the way they made love. No jealousy, no offense taken, merely enjoying the beauty of sharing pleasure. Together.
Claye came again, burying his face against Jazz’s neck to muffle his cries. He felt Jazz jerk inside him, then the warm lash of his seed, shielded by the condom he’d donned. Ammo, too. It didn’t diminish their passion, but he was touched they’d cared enough to protect him. This was a new relationship. Very new. And they were in danger, potentially. Taking their seed meant Claye accepted them as his. Life partners. And for now, that wasn’t happening.
Crumpling, Claye fell against Jazz and was pulled to the side as Ammo turned him, still joined, cuddling against his back.
“Darling, that was just as good as I remember,” Ammo drawled, kissing Claye’s neck.
“Better,” Jazz panted, groaning as he eased from Claye’s snug ass. He sprawled on his back, his long hair splayed over the bed, eyes closed.