Page 11 of Advance and Retreat (Dark Empire #6)

Kila released the bite and kissed his way to her other breast. He treated it as he had the first: sucking, licking, scoring it with his blunter teeth before sinking his fangs in.

Hope squirmed helplessly in Piras’ grip.

She gave up yanking Kila’s hair to rake her nails on his armored uniform top.

She was blatantly aware her clanmates remained clothed while she was naked, underscoring their power.

..though Piras was simply obeying their dominant Nobek’s wishes.

As eagerness increased its demands on her, as Kila’s venom stole every vestige of constraint she possessed, her struggles grew frantic.

Uttering an evil laugh, he yanked her from Piras, putting her over his shoulder.

A couple of swats to her ass increased her desperation, but she couldn’t free herself from him to claim what her body clamored for.

“I take it you aren’t as picky about getting dirty as she is, boy,” Kila rumbled. “If you are, it’s too damned bad.”

“Whatever my Nobek wishes, I’ll do,” Piras answered.

“On the floor, hands and knees. You’ll be a different piece of furniture for a bit.”

“Yes, my Nobek.”

“And you, my enthusiastic Matara—” Kila swatted her ass again, and the heat of the strike went straight to her pussy “—you’ll take what I give you and be grateful for it.”

She squalled in answer. In her intoxicated state, she wanted only for him to fuck her straight to orgasm. If it meant getting dirty, that would be perfectly fine.

The room whirled. When it stopped, Hope was no longer draped across the Nobek’s shoulder. Instead, she lay crosswise across Piras’ back. He crouched on all fours. The difference in their sizes meant just her toes, still safely encased in their socks, touched the questionable floor.

Then her feet were in the air, courtesy of Kila’s grasp on her hips lifting her ass up. She clung to Piras to keep from sliding off his back to faceplant on the floor.

“That’s right. You hang onto him while I relieve my stress,” Kila grunted.

She felt something hot and slick probe her womanhood, and she uttered a cry of welcome. An instant later, he was in her, thick and hot and incredible.

Her mouth opened wide to voice grunts as he rutted, their flesh smacking as he had her.

His primary was pounding her pussy, and his smaller cock rubbed her clit to send cascades of bliss through her.

Her cunt clutched on him, making the friction headier, sending her closer to the inevitable end she wanted with all her being.

His animal growls excited her. Lokmi hadn’t been the sole clanmate who’d experienced angst to the point of needing desperate release.

Kila’s pace was growing frantic, and Hope’s sex spasmed a precursor to greater pleasure.

Her helpless cries became more high-pitched as darts of sheer rapture increased in frequency and power. She was nearly there...

Kila yanked free. He stood shuddering behind her as she registered she wasn’t allowed to come right away. Her beseeching wail went unanswered. The Nobek simply gasped and kept a tight grip on her hips, holding her motionless and aching for gratification.

“My Nobek,” she sobbed when she found the ability to speak.

He didn’t respond.

Hope’s fist clenched. It took all the scant restraint she possessed to keep from slamming it on Piras’ ribs in frustration. She’d been so close.

“Fuck!” she yelled.

Finally, Kila reacted. He barked a harsh laugh and shifted.

This time, the probing was in a different spot. She keened a welcome, eager for him to fill her however he deemed necessary. It wouldn’t take much to finish her off.

He sank in her, his primary delving where it was tightest, his secondary invading her where she burned so hungrily. The double impalement delivered delicious friction where she needed it most, and he’d barely managed a single stroke when she detonated.

Somewhere in the midst of the gorgeous convulsions, she heard his shout as he too found his reward. Their cries of ecstasy twined together in an exalted chorus.

“I love you, my Matara,” he sighed minutes later. “Forgive how quick I was.”

“Quicker than me,” Lokmi chortled.

“No complaints,” Hope sighed as he helped her to her feet. “I don’t think any of us are in the mood for a marathon after the day we’ve had.”

She was certainly ready to call it quits, but there remained one man who needed his share of attention. Piras continued to crouch on the floor, waiting for whatever he’d be granted...or denied.

Not a marathon, but it looks like I have the third leg of a triathlon left to go. Hope felt no hassle to face another round, however. She’d been put through her paces by two of her clanmates. It was her turn to be in control.

She went to the bin she’d hidden in and drew out the blanket she’d curled on under the false bottom, the only comfort she’d enjoyed during her imprisonment as she’d been smuggled onto Jedver.

She returned to the silent and still Dramok anticipating her pleasure.

She spread the blanket on the floor next to him.

“Stand up and strip, Piras. As slowly as you took my clothes off for Lokmi.”

“Yes, my Matara.” Eagerness colored his tone, and she smiled.

A hiss attracted her notice, and she looked over her shoulder. Kila was in the tiny shower stall, letting the water sluice over him as he stood under the spray, an air of contentment replacing his earlier ferocity.

She sighed, contented herself now that she knew her clan was safe. Except for Piras, their tension about the situation had been alleviated.

Until the next emergency came along. It seemed they’d been traveling from one predicament to another for eternity now. It had been a hell of a year.

She returned her attention to Piras, who’d waited for her to look at him before he started to disrobe.

Such a good boy. The idea of rewarding him gave her pleasure beyond sexual gratification.

She found it as fulfilling as surrendering to Lokmi and Kila, who compensated her so very well for her submission.

She watched as Piras parted the resealable seam of his one-piece armored uniform along the front.

He peeled the top off his shoulders, giving her a nice, long look at the most streamlined of her clanmates.

Though his heavy jaw kept his otherwise delicately featured face from absolute elegance, rendering it interesting instead of merely handsome, nothing kept his body from lithe, toned grace.

He was poetry made flesh; a lyric composed to float on the air.

His strength of character, though hidden in this moment, added to the perfection she’d seen every day since he’d clanned her.

Her heart ached from love for him. If you only knew how you own me.

She wished he’d dared to raise his gaze to hers rather than in downcast submission so perhaps he could see what words would never be able to convey.

He paused when his uniform reached his waist to pull his boots off. He stepped on the blanket as each foot bared. Even his slender feet and their long toes were lovely.

He finally glanced up, a wordless request for her permission, then inched the uniform past his waist, hips, thighs, and calves. Bent, he tugged it all the way off and dropped it in a heap at the corner of the blanket. Then he slowly straightened, giving her an unimpeded view an inch at a time.

How often had she seen him naked? As often as he’d stolen her breath, she was certain.

She stepped close, gazing up into his eyes, which finally met hers.

She’d seen him red-faced in rage, his features contorted as bestial as Kila had ever managed.

She’d seen him cold, somehow deadlier when his intent was merciless in its focus.

That was Dramok Piras outside the bedroom, a force no sane person dared to oppose.

For her, when they were alone and intimate, the loving Piras emerged, devoted to her with a single-mindedness that meant just her happiness mattered. This was the Piras who looked at her now, at once yearning, loving, and eager to offer her everything he was.

Her fingertips traced his straight nose, his arched brows, the delicate cheekbones, the far less delicate jaw. She drew him close for a kiss so sweet it was nearly chaste. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips, so he could feel and taste the words as well as hear them.

“My Matara.” His voice was choked from emotion. “My everything.”

Her hands slid down his neck to his shoulders.

She touched his arms, then his torso, drinking in her unbelievable fortune to have earned such an incredible person in her life.

She adored Lokmi and Kila no less, but Piras’ submission allowed her to truly bask in how lucky she was, to appreciate the treasure she’d been granted.

Her hands curved to cup the roundness of his buttocks.

His skin was velvet on granite muscle, an enthralling juxtaposition.

Hope wasn’t surprised to feel wet warmth sliding from her pussy.

Whatever she wished, Piras would give her.

Her thoughts found the middle ground between sentiment and carnal lust. She had to have this man who excited her heart, body, and soul.

His cocks stood at stiff alertness, another two points of graceful beauty. He was wet and craving her. She traced a finger on a distended vein, then licked his natural slickness from it. Sweet and spicy at once, better than how he smelled. She quelled a groan.

“Lie on the blanket on your back, my lovely Piras.”

He was in position at her feet in a twinkling. Hope thought of reprimanding him for such blatant impatience, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was full of too much love and lust for him.

She stepped over him, her feet on either side of his tapered waist. She sank to a crouch and reached behind to prop her hands on his thighs. Her pussy and ass hovered above his trembling shafts.

“Position yourself.” Her voice had gone husky as anticipation of taking possession of him woke.