Page 37

ADRIANA

D oman rises from his seat. He stands to his full height, the outline of his hardening cock visible against his robes, staining it a darker color as he strides to the doorway. It opens automatically in anticipation of the prince, the ship coded to his DNA.

My heels click as I follow him, and his two battle-brothers walk behind me, trapping me between three alien warriors.

I can feel their eyes on my ass, the heels making my hips sway, and I love it.

I have never felt this way. I’d feel pretty when I dressed up, but this is something else.

I’ve never had a man look at me like I am his obsession, his reason for being, and the way the three alien princes watch me is intoxicating.

I’m inflamed, on the edge of losing control.

Hate chilled my feelings for three conquerors before.

All that changed, my feelings flipping on a switch when they promised to go against their own civilization to do what is right. I still don’t trust them. I still don’t know them. But I no longer think of them as my sworn enemies.

But there is something else cooling my desires… the fear of the Bond and what it could do to me.

I’ve watched holo-vids of Queen Jasmine, from hundreds of years ago.

It’s strange to know that the babe that swelled her belly, that made her tits swell up and grow three times their size, leaking milk, was Doman.

Pregnancy with the Aurelians is different.

The Bond forces the body to adapt, to change.

My tall, willowy frame would be ruined, my modest breasts, which I always liked, feeling elegant in dresses, would swell up massively, hanging from my frame, laden with milk for their heir.

But that doesn’t scare me as much as the dark words of Gallien.

That it makes whatever you feel a thousand times more intense.

Because the way I’m aching for the aliens, anything more would be…

painful. It would be like being held underwater, your lungs screaming for air, and the only way to relieve it would be giving myself to the three alien princes, again and again, until my mind melted under their dominance.

I know the two behind me are staring at me, and I let myself enjoy Doman walking through the hallways, his back broad and strong, his head high. He stalks like a jungle cat, completely at home in his massive frame, athletic and lithe despite his muscle-bound physique.

At the end of the hallway, contrasting against the ivory of the ship and his marble skin, is a black door. It gleams wetly.

Doman turns to me. “Are you sure, Adriana? The things you’ll experience in here could… change you,” he says, and his words are like honey, dark promises.

“The only thing I fear is the Bond.”

Doman raises his hand. The blue-black ring, crafted with a tiny Orb, like the one that powers the hilt at his belt that will extend into a blade with only a thought, seems to gleam evilly.

I never saw it as something so ominous before this moment.

It seems unnatural against his marble skin.

“Even if I sated myself in you, you will never be mine, not if this ring is on my finger.” There’s a deep sadness in his voice, but he brushes it off with a shake of his head.

He steps in closer to me, his huge bulk towering over me, and raises his other hand, gently stroking an errant strand of hair from my eyes.

His fingers slide downwards, over my cheek, making me shiver, running over the diamond choker then wrapping around the back of my neck as he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss.

I was expecting it, but nothing could prepare me for it.

This kiss is different than the conquest on Magnar, the distance on Terosa.

It is passionate, hungry, filled with aching need as he presses his lips against mine, slowly sliding his tongue against mine.

Fuck, but he’s just so big, this enormous beast.

His triad presses in behind us, a wall of strength that captures me, that protects me.

I don’t pull away from him. I press my hands against his slab of muscled flesh, loving the possessive dominance that infuses my being, desire so strong it terrifies me, that makes my mind swirl.

He breaks off the kiss, and I’m panting, each breath in making his smell tingle my senses, masculine and potent.

I pull back and face the three Aurelians. “This is what you want? Me, trapped in that room, helpless to whatever you want to do to me?”

Their formal white robes are a mockery of civility, obscenely tented outwards by their huge, throbbing cocks, the fine white material darkened by the seed of their desire.

“Do you want to know what I want, Adriana? All I crave is to Bond you to me. I want to see your belly swell with my son,” Doman growls, deep and low. “But this… this is a step towards that,” he says, extending his hand to the black door.

I look up at the three titans. “I’ll enter. On one condition.”

“Name it,” says Gallien instantly.

“Link the room to my mind. Let me control it.”

“Agreed,” says Doman, and presses his hand against the black door.

It has no handle, and ripples spread out from his touch, like he is placing his hand against a dark pool.

The door slides open, revealing a square, black room illuminated by its own dark light.

The walls, the ceiling, the floor is all the same black material as the door.

Doman stands aside, and I take a breath in, steeling myself, feeling like I am crossing a threshold, feeling that the woman I am who comes out will be different from the one that goes in.

I walk through the open door, my heels sending ripples out with each step, as if I am walking on a solid liquid. I stop in the center of the darkness.

The three Aurelians follow me in, silent, and the doors close behind me.

I’m in the pleasure room of the royal triad, with the three alien warriors standing between me and the door, and my heart pounds as they stand, like silent statues, waiting for me to make the first move.

They have control over their bodies, watching me carefully despite their throbbing, rock-hard manhoods that press against their robes, breathing in my scent with each breath.

“Tell me, how does it work?” My voice is not much more than a whisper.

“What you think will become reality. This material will obey your mind. Link to her,” he says in Aurelian, speaking to the room itself.

There’s no change in my mind. There’s no indication it worked.

But when I focus on the floor, looking down and holding my hand out, it follows my imagination. The floor pools and forms upwards into a long pillar of black, until it presses against my palm, cool to the touch.

“Incredible. Why don’t you use this in combat?”

“We’ve tried. We lost the ways of making these rooms, and the material cannot be brought outside, or it becomes inert, never to function again.”

“Like the minerals of Etherion they use to form their cities.”

“Even our species has lost much. We are a shadow of our former self. Each iteration of us born in the cryo-bays, lessened from the last, like a reflection that grows more blurry each time.”

Gallien steps forward towards me. His short, platinum hair gives him a more disciplined look than his two savage battle-brothers, but the darkness in his eyes makes a chill run through me. I don’t know yet all the things he wants to do to me, and it half terrifies me…

And half makes me ache for when I finally lose control, for when I am in this room with him and his battle-brothers, and it follows their commands.

His muscled arm, bared in his formal robes, seems to glow against the darkness of the room. “Careful, Adriana. You think that linking the room to your mind means you are in control.”

He takes another step forward, and I imagine the room pressing upwards.

A wall forms between us, from the ceiling to the floor, and I test imagining it transparent.

It changes, instantly, forming an invisible barrier between us.

Gallien puts his hand against it, staring through, licking his lips like a wolf hunting prey.

There’s no frustration in his eyes, no defeat, no admission that the wall that stops him in his tracks even exists. I imagine the floor rushing up, more precisely, and I form it in my mind to a leash of the black material that wraps around his neck.

To my surprise, he has no anger in his eyes.

He watches me with an infuriating… amusement.

“You can only control this room if you can control yourself. When the lust builds in your mind, until you forget your own name and call out mine… you will lose control of this room. Careful, Adriana. You should stop before it’s too late.”

His voice is dark, deliciously threatening, knowing that I’ll rise to his challenge.

We’re playing games with each other, and I know he can see my hard nipples through my dress, taste the lust between my legs, feel how I react to his words.

He reaches down to his belt and pulls it from his robe, not moving with the leash around his neck, handing his belt and blade to Titus, who places it down near the entrance.

Then Titus places his own blade and belt to the floor and sheds his robe.

He turns to face me, his savage black hair, thick and unruly, cascading to his huge, broad shoulders.

He is a barbarian, a beast incarnate, pure, savage strength.

He’s over seven feet of corded muscle and slabs of beefy flesh, the bullet wounds only accentuating his violent strength.

His muscles are slick with sweat, inflamed with desire, and his body must be feverishly hot to the touch.

He keeps his massive chain on, the diamond glittering against his marble skin.