Bondmate (11 page)

“We
will, after the claiming.” Mateen crouched down in front of her and stared into
her eyes. “It’s required. We must make a formal declaration of bond, or you
will be considered unattached.”

“Any
Alphan
man would wish to have you. There would be
fighting in the streets for the chance of capturing your beauty. But we will
defeat any who challenge us.”
Bynton’s
flattery won
him a shaky smile from her. He had to be joking. Everything she’d seen of this
place was well-ordered and clean, the people calm and purposeful.

“Wouldn’t
I get a say in the matter?”

Bynton
and Mateen glanced at each other.

“Do
you wish to open yourself up to other males, Avanelle?” Mateen’s voice was low,
and she thought she detected a layer of hurt in it. “It is your right to do so
at the claiming.”

Regret
filled her. How could they think she would reject them? Was that what this
challenge was to be, a challenge to her devotion to them? “No. I want you, only
you.
Never any other.”

In
an effort to reassure, she reached for them, kissing first Bynton, then Mateen.
First affectionate pecks against their sensuous mouths, then
deepening into lusty sucks.
They reached for her, and their grips
tightened. Her blood heated, and her body softened immediately. She’d grown so
in tune with her desire for them in the time on their ship that her pussy was
already dripping, quivering in need of their attention. If she was to be
separated from them, even if only for a few hours, she needed to reaffirm their
bond. No challenge at all.

****

Mateen’s
emotions churned. Pride in bringing Avanelle home, joy at seeing his
companions, anticipation of the claiming to come, all swept away by the
momentary worry that she might abandon them. But she was clinging to them both,
kissing and pressing herself to them in the way he’d learned showed she was
amorous. Untangling herself from their arms, she pushed off the cloak and
pulled at her garments, her eyes dark with desire as her breath heaved in and
out. His staff swelled.

“Please,
I need you now.” Her breathy beg was all it took for him to move to accommodate
her. He pulled off her pants and shifted her knees to the bench even as Bynton
pulled off her top, her breasts bouncing free. His bondmate straddled the bench,
and Avanelle reached to unfasten his belt and trousers, positioning herself on
hands and knees on the padded surface as she freed
Bynton’s
staff from his garments and blessed him with a kiss. He knew what that mouth
would feel like, how hot her tongue was as she would circle it around his sensitive
corona.
Lucky Bynton.

She
gripped his bondmate’s staff at the base and glanced over her shoulder at him,
her dark hair spilling across the pale skin of her back. She arched her hips
back and presented herself. Her scent filled him, and without hesitation he
crouched down and pressed his mouth to her already succulent folds. Their
companions were waiting outside the door, so he couldn’t linger in her honey,
but a few deep
tonguings
of her opening gave him
enough of a taste. She whimpered and quivered as she widened her knees as far
as the bench would support her. Mateen heard Bynton breathing hard as
Avanelle’s head bobbed up and down over his bondmate’s staff. Rising up to his
knees, he unbuckled his belt and pulled the fasteners of his trousers apart,
his ready staff springing free and desperate for the shelter of his woman’s
body.

Gripping
one smooth globe of her ass in his hand, he used the other to part her pink folds,
her welcoming fluids slippery on his fingers. With a grunt of effort he pushed
his corona at her quivering opening, reveling again in how her body was
perfectly formed to please him. Every pulsing nerve along his staff rejoiced as
he slid into her clenching heat, and she flinched like she did every time he
mounted her. Adjusting his stance on the bench, he eased in and out of her
sheath a few times,
then
grabbed a tight hold on her
hips to keep her from sliding away. Pleasure and pressure were already building
in his groin like a nova sun, and he knew he was close to climax.

With
a quick glance at Bynton, who now had one hand clenched around the back of
Avanelle’s head as she sucked at him, Mateen began to thrust, biting back the
groans that swelled in his throat. Again and again he pressed inside her beauty
until his head swam. An electrical pulse rocketed from the small of his back
out his staff as his seed filled her with all his hopes for the future. As he
gripped her tight and shook with ecstasy, the small, conscious part of his mind
prayed for her to be already swelling with their child. Bynton gave out a
sudden gasp and shuddered hard enough that Mateen felt the vibration of his
climax through Avanelle’s body.
As it should be.

Legs
shaking, he eased back, still joined to her. She was breathing hard, and he
could sense she hadn’t reached her release yet. Knowing his bondmate loved to
watch, Mateen reached around and played with the wet curls covering Avanelle’s
mound. She squeaked and gripped his forearms, throwing her head back against
his shoulder. He wished he was naked so he could appreciate all her warm skin
and soft hair against him.

“Please,
Mateen, make me come for you. Bynton, please, take my breasts.” Her soft voice
hitched as she begged. He circled his finger and fancied he could feel her tiny
clit quiver as he stroked alongside it, up and down, never quite touching in
the way she liked. His staff pulsed a few more times before he slid free of her
wet channel. Bynton leaned up from his sprawl on the bench and tongued one of
her distended
dinap
. She cried out loudly, and Mateen
couldn’t help his answering rumble as she panted, gripping one hand into
Bynton’s
shoulder as her other flailed and found purchase
in his hair, then clenched around one of his horns. A band of pleasure circled
his skull, and he groaned as she tugged. He bent his head to her bare neck,
reveling in the sensation of his
tesak
descending and
piercing her flesh as his staff had. The rich essence of Avanelle whispered
across his tongue.

With
a series of shrieks she convulsed and climaxed in his arms, and this time he
did allow himself a louder groan of kindred completion. Power surged in him,
the power of their shared pleasure and bond. Bynton growled, too, still
suckling. When his bondmate finally drew away, both her
dinap
were shiny, glistening against the swells of her breasts like jewels set in
velvet. He’d also made his mark just below her collarbone, two tiny dents that
didn’t do justice to their connection.

He
didn’t care if his fellow warriors waiting outside knew what had just happened
within this small, quiet room. All that mattered was the life he and his
bondmates were going to share.

****

The
great hall was immense. Tall pillars of tan stone interspersed with bright red
banners soared around Avanelle’s head, and even though the perimeter of the
space was filled with large
Alphans
joined by a few
human women, she was alone. She’d felt bereft as soon as Mateen and Bynton had
left her side, off on their mysterious errands before the ceremony. They’d each
given her a deep kiss, stared at her,
then
rushed
away, too quickly lost in the crowd of people filling the streets of this city.

The
women, accompanied by two silent and watchful
Alphan
males, had led her to a small storefront, bustled her inside, and she was soon
stripped of her clothes in a curtained alcove. The sweet woman who’d spoken to
her first at the landing deck had stayed with her to assist as Avanelle tried
on pants and tunics of incredibly soft and warm material. All the colors she
could name soon filled the room, and despite the other woman’s urging to take
all she wanted, Avanelle quickly settled on a set in deep rose, anxious to
leave and rejoin Mateen and Bynton. Soft suede boots that buckled up to her thighs
completed her attire, and she hadn’t been able to suppress a quiver at the idea
of both men slowly removing each, pressing kisses and their special bites to
her flesh as they went.

She
and the
Alphans
had left the shop and plunged into
the crowded street, following the flow of people heading for a large, imposing
building faced with black stone. As they entered the great hall, Avanelle
comforted herself with the thought that at least Mateen and Bynton were in the
same building, even if she couldn’t see them. Taking in a deep breath and
releasing it slowly, she waited. This ceremony clearly mattered to Bynton and
Mateen, and all the people surrounding her, but she’d rather be in their house,
getting to know her surroundings and adjusting to her new home.

The
deep peal of a gong sounded, and the already quiet room went completely silent,
no more shuffling or whispers. All heads turned toward a slightly raised
section of the hall, lined with dull red stones. An imposing
Alphan
clad in bright white armor took his place in the
center, facing the crowd who circled around an open area. Avanelle found
herself led towards the man, his golden skin contrasting with his pale attire.
A scar bisected his cheek, and the look he gave her was impassive. Flutters of
nerves filled her and she wanted to resist being so close to him, but she was
soon at his side, standing on the red stones. Multitudes of golden eyes turned
their way.

“Comrades and companions.
We are here to
welcome this human woman as a citizen of Alpha. Who brought her forth as
potential bondmate?” he
boomed
out, and she flinched.

The
crowd stirred and parted, and she saw them, Mateen and Bynton, striding into
that cleared space in front of her, stopping a few meters away and standing at
attention. They were magnificent, clad in leather covered with glittering
studs, their long dark hair pulled back tight to reveal their horns. Both sent
hot glances at her before they acknowledged the man in white.

“We
do.” Mateen and Bynton spoke as one, their deep growls making her belly
flutter.

“Do
you accept the call of Mateen and Bynton of Albin to bond?” Now the man in
white stared at her, and she forced herself to meet his intent stare.

“I
do.”

The
officiant’s
gaze softened for just a second, and then
he turned from her and scanned the crowd. “Do any challenge this joining?”

Dead
silence, broken after a second by a roaring bellow. The crowd shifted again,
some stumbling to make way for the forceful arrival of three tall
Alphans
, clad as Bynton and Mateen in sturdy leathers. Her
men had whirled to face the newcomers, their backs rigid as their arms curled
up as if to clutch at weapons. The other
Alphans
had
identical expressions of ferocity, scowling at Mateen and Bynton before turning
their attention to her and the man next to her.

“We
issue challenge to these Albin. This woman will be ours.” The one in the middle
shouted, and Bynton leapt at him, held back by Mateen’s quick grasp around his
shoulders. The audience around them murmured and shifted.

“Warriors of the
Madoc
house!”
The man in white called out. “As is your right, you may battle. Whoever submits
must renounce claims. Warriors of Albin, choose your weapons.”

Avanelle’s
head whirled. She’d thought this was a simple ceremony, trappings to finalize
the transformation she’d already undergone, but seeing the set expressions on
Mateen’s and
Bynton’s
faces as they turned and
approached her filled her with fear. This was going to be a real fight, with
terrible stakes indeed.

They
crowded close to her but didn’t touch even though she craved reassurance. “Be
brave,
Avanelle
Rein,”
Mateen
said as he pulled off his tunic and laid it at her feet.

“We
will defeat these whelps and have a delicious victory feast.” Bynton had
stripped down to a small breechclout as had Mateen, and both men were rubbing
their skin with oil provided by one of the
Alphans
who’d accompanied her to the hall. Two others held an assortment of bladed
weapons, their sharp edges catching the light. Any one of them looked capable
of cutting off an arm or leg with only a slight swing. Her vision swam as she
contemplated the idea that they might be hurt in defense of her, then at the
realization if Mateen and Bynton were grievously injured, she’d be handed off
to these
Madoc
warriors.
No
. She glanced at the interlopers to find they’d also disrobed and
were
also shiny with oil, ranging themselves along the
far end of the clear section of floor.

“Spike
axes, I think.” Bynton gestured at a vicious looking tool, one end fitted with
a curved double blade, the other covered with a hard knob. Mateen nodded and
took
his own,
and then both men allowed their
companions to fasten segmented metal armor to their arms, a leather strap
across the upper back holding them in place. That was all. They were going to
face three raging warriors with nothing more than an ax and the minimal
protection of sleeves of armor.