Page 9 of Advance and Retreat (Dark Empire #6)

H ope pretended to glare at Lokmi. She pretended his hands on her weren’t bringing warmth in secret places.

It was true she got hot at the idea of people watching her fuck her clanmates.

Visiting a Kalquorian pleasure club, where such activities were promoted in a safe environment, had long been on her list of naughty activities to indulge in once the opportunity presented itself.

However, the Beonids might return. The flirtatious male hadn’t put her on her guard too badly, but she’d caught the woman’s desultory expression when she’d regarded Hope.

Silver Lady has also been too fascinated by her clanmates, particularly Piras.

She’d stared at him in outright lust, her examination hungry.

Neither of the twins...Beonids were always twins and stayed together throughout their lives...had looked like the hands-off type. No one outside of her clan was touching Hope’s men. Especially her Piras.

Maybe it was a primitive need to stake her territory that kept her from pulling free of Lokmi as he sought to seduce her.

Or maybe it was the relief they’d gotten through the cordon of Dark defenses to reach their hideout.

Either way, Hope was interested in what her Imdiko was offering.

It was the venue and potential observers making her reluctant.

“The owner probably has surveillance in here,” she said.

“No doubt he does. No worries. Other than pimping out our kind at their brothels, Dantovonians don’t typically find Kalquorians or Earthers interesting sexually,” Kila said.

“You can go behind the shelves where you’ll be offered some privacy.

I’d be glad to guard the door and shoo off anyone who opens it. ..if the favor is returned.”

Lokmi grinned. “No problem for me. Please, my Matara? I could really go for relieving some tension. Couldn’t you?”

“I’m not putting an inch of bare skin on those beds,” she insisted.

“Then we’ll improvise.” He glanced at the fourth member of their group who’d gone silent since the sex talk had begun. “Piras is always eager to serve. Aren’t you?”

The man who’d been the epitome of the commanding Dramok moments before stood with his head down. He proved he was attentive by immediately responding. “Yes, Imdiko. Anything wished of me.”

Hope wondered what the Beonid woman would have thought of the submissive tone replacing Piras’ usual demanding rasp. Perhaps she wouldn’t have found him so interesting once his switch had been thrown.

I certainly do.

Hope liked controlling and being controlled, often at once.

So did Kila, but he had to be physically overcome to give up dominating the others.

Dual-breed Lokmi didn’t fall in the middle at all.

When it came to sex, he tended to toss his nurturing Imdiko half aside, opting for his commanding Dramok instincts.

Piras’ natural leader classification reflected him perfectly in all parts of his life, except when intimacy began.

He was a sexually submissive Dramok, an almost unheard-of occurrence in Kalquorian society.

The demanding admiral, nicknamed the “Terror of the Fleet,” was the natural bottom to everyone else in the bedroom.

It had cost him dearly to admit his truth and find clanmates who supported who he was. ..a lot of heartache and hurt.

Knowing she had his trust and feeling how precious it was, Hope called, “Come here, Piras.”

He approached, his steps quick from eagerness. He knelt before her, his head still lowered. “My Matara. How may I serve you?”

“Apparently, Lokmi thinks you’ll somehow take the place of a bed while he and I are intimate. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“If I can assist to satisfy my clanmates, I will.” Earnestness filled his voice.

Lokmi picked Hope up and slung her across his shoulder, ignoring her squeal. “Then let’s get your divine mistress behind the shelves, boy.” His booted toe nudged Piras’ ass. A show of such insistent power delighted them both.

Piras scrambled on all fours, following the Imdiko as he strode past the rows of shelving. As she was borne off, Hope noted the grinning Kila assume a position by the door. No doubt he was already looking forward to his turn.

It had been nearly six years of clanship, and Hope’s libido fired up at the knowledge three men would be enjoying her, each in his own fashion. The carnal anticipation never waned.

Lokmi reached the last rows of shelving, the two sets separated by the center aisle.

He took Hope behind the shelves to his left and set her on her feet.

“Stand there.” He didn’t acknowledge Piras, who crouched next to her.

He turned and walked from them to the nearest bed, which sported a sagging metal frame and mussed sheets.

Hope wrinkled her nose at the sight, but Lokmi showed no sign of dismay as he sat on it.

He eyed her with a proprietary air, his gaze intense as he looked her up and down. Tendrils of heat wove through her at his examination. Like Piras, who’d known to crawl in their wake when Lokmi carried her, Hope had no need to be told to stand quietly for inspection.

“Piras, take her blouse off. Slowly.”

Piras was tall enough and Hope short enough that it wasn’t necessary for the Dramok to climb to his feet.

He remained kneeling, though he straightened as tall as he could, and reached for her collar.

A resealable seam ran along the front of her shirt, and he inched it apart to reveal her lace-clad breasts, which lifted and sank in quickening breath.

Lower, exposing her taut abdomen. The dark blue blouse, wrinkled from her concealment, slid from her shoulders at his prodding.

She’d felt the room as cool earlier, but Lokmi’s stare made her flush warm.

It never failed to amaze her how after years of clanship, after being naked in front of her men on countless occasions, they could still make her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Lokmi was particularly adept at it. Simply sitting on a messy, dilapidated bed, he evinced the aura of a king whose every whim must be obeyed.

Hope could well imagine enslaved concubines of history feeling as powerless as she did under the control of a lascivious monarch they dared not deny.

The difference was, his undeniable will and how he’d wield it excited her. There was anxiety, but it was anticipatory. She had no reason to fear her clanmate.

“The bra.” His gaze raked her.

She schooled her features to not betray her feelings as her chest, her least favorite body part, was exposed.

Her younger sister Charity had inherited all the curves.

Hope’s figure was slim to the point of boyishness, a fact she’d never quite lost self-consciousness about.

It wasn’t her clanmates’ fault; they made no secret they found her desirable.

Perhaps it was her breasts’ sensitivity they deemed alluring.

When Lokmi, Piras, or Kila fondled and sucked them, she could barely contain her excitement.

Neither Lokmi nor Piras were touching them, however. Lokmi merely looked, and she fought the urge to cover herself, embarrassed yet again and angry she felt that way. Nothing was wrong with her body. Her men had proved it so on many occasions.

Fortunately, Lokmi moved on before she could dwell on her perceived shortcomings. “Shoes.”

Piras tugged her sneakers off. Hope gave Lokmi an appealing look.

“Yes?” His brow lifted, telling her she was pushing her luck by interrupting the striptease.

“Can I keep the socks on, please? The floor looks dirty.”

He chuckled. “You can wash your feet, my germaphobe.” At her whine, he granted her wish. “Fine. Leave the socks. Shorts, Piras.”

Hope wasn’t as sensitive when her shorts slipped down her legs, her best feature.

Kila had rhapsodized often about how gorgeous they were wrapped around their hips or heads, depending on the specific activity.

Toned, smooth, and long for her small proportions, their exposure never failed to make Lokmi lick his lips in appreciation, as he did now.

He rubbed his crotch, adjusting the bulges as his cocks strained his pants.

“Panties.”

The crotch of her underpants, a lacy match to her bra, painted wet lines on her inner thighs as Piras slid them to her ankles. She sensed she looked ridiculous standing in her very unsexy fleet-issued socks, but she was certain the floor was covered in grossness. It was best not to take chances.

Her concerns about filth were brushed aside as Lokmi stood and adjusted his erections once more. He stalked around her, examining her from every angle. Piras had sunk into a semi-crouch next to her feet, his hands resting on his thighs as he waited to be used, sent away, or simply ignored.

Lokmi stroked the Dramok’s hair absently as he passed him.

His regard was casual, but Hope knew he registered the lift of Piras’ shoulders and his aura of contentment at the brief acknowledgement.

Lokmi might appear indifferent, but he was always intensely aware of every nuance when it came to his clanmates, particularly those who’d put themselves under his control.

He kept circling, his touch now for Hope.

His fingers combed her nearly black hair.

She couldn’t contain a shiver when their tips brushed down her spine.

He cupped her cheek, smoothed his thumb over her chin.

The back of his hand stroked the slight curve of one breast, then the other.

He stroked her trembling abdomen and stopped in front of her.

“Piras.”

The Dramok’s shoulders dipped lower. “My Imdiko?”

“Chair position.”