WarriorsWoman (15 page)

His hand wrapped the base of her neck. His thumb rested in the notch of her collarbone, holding her captive.

Her pulse beat wildly beneath the tender pressure of his thumb’s thick pad. Her gaze met his, and was instantly caught and held by the possession in his midnight eyes. An impulse prompted her to confirm his ownership. She swallowed and murmured the obvious, “I belong to the triad.”

The corners of his mouth quirked in an almost smile. “You are mine, little one and I am one of three.” He paused, rubbing her pulse point with his thumb. “You may be one of four. You connect us. You complete us. You protect and serve us. A mech quad is unprecedented, but the term makes sense.”

“I’m part of a mech quad?”

His rare grin broke free. “Yes.”

“But I don’t have any metal or armor.”

Batzorg’s regard sizzled over her rosy breasts and lower to the wet curls covering her slit where his heavy cock nestled. “You are perfect as you are.”

At his words of unconditional approval, her heart did a funny little roll.

Her acceptance as part of the team would change the group’s dynamics in ways she couldn’t begin to guess and obedience to Batzorg took on new possibilities.

At the moment she wasn’t linked to his thoughts, but she had a strong feeling he read everything going on in her head.

With love shining from his dark eyes, her transparency wasn’t upsetting. It was pretty special to share herself without filters or barrier and be accepted by three hunky mechs.

His gaze returned to hers and stayed there, locking her in place with his power.

Disconcerted by his intensity, she dropped her eyes.

He resumed nibbling kisses down her sternum and soon the soapy washcloth dipped into her bellybutton. When he swabbed the tender hollow between her hip bones, she bit her lip to keep from squirming. He rinsed, lathered and moved south.

From beneath her lashes she watched him clean the cloth and work lather into it. This time he didn’t detour. He parted her pussy’s lips and applied the scrap of terry to every tiny dip and rise. After rinsing, he returned and cleaned away every trace of the mild soap. Each soft caress from his big hand on her most intimate tissues soothed and aroused far more than just her needy sex.

While his breathing stayed even, his hardened cock and a trace of red that deepened the bronze silk stretched over his angular cheekbones told her he wasn’t quite as calm as he seemed. She tightened her mouth to keep back a smug smile of feminine satisfaction at the signs of her effect on him.

Her awareness of his desire worked like a sip of a powerful aphrodisiac, igniting sparks of desperate want deep in her belly. “Please.”

Still moving much too slow, he rinsed the cloth again, spread it on the edge of the tub, and opened the drain. He stood, holding her securely as he stepped out of the bath, wrapped her wet curls in a towel, and covered her body in a mech-sized terry sheet. When she was steady on her feet, he patted her dry with a third fluffy towel.

When she was dry except for the fountain between her legs and her wet hair, he set her sideways on the closed toilet seat and unwound the towel on her head. He picked up her wooden comb and began working through her unruly mop. As he coaxed the snarls out, the slow burn of arousal heated until the fire consumed everything except Batzorg.

She inhaled his addictive, woodsy scent and leaned her shoulders on his strong thighs, keeping her neck bent so he could tug out the hair knots. His legs heated her back. “Why are you so hot?”

His wonderful, deep chuckle made her wish he laughed more often. “Adjustable thermal output. I turned mine up to keep you warm.”

“It’s very effective,” she purred and twisted to place a kiss on his scar.

The comb stopped moving. “You disassemble me, little one.”

She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. The comb clattered to the floor and her towel followed.

“Please, champ.” She tilted, hoping for his kiss.

His mouth brushed hers with a gentle, yet ardent caress.

Minka softened and stole a lick of his sensual lower lip.

Then he plundered the wet cavern of her mouth, consuming her.

Without any conscious intention, her legs wound around him. She rubbed her slippery channel against the incredibly smooth weight of his massive shaft. Each desperate pass bumped her engorged clit against his steely rod. The friction was almost enough to push her over the edge into orgasm.

Instead of helping, Batzorg dropped to his knees, removing his hard cock.

Small, needy sounds, somewhere between a moan and whimper, spilled from her lips. “Please, I need…”

“Me.” Deep male satisfaction underscored the word as he used his amazing strength to drape her trembling thighs over his shoulders.

“Yes, please. “ The position he’d chosen with her sex, slick and plump, spread open in front of his face maxed her vulnerability. Certainty that he’d repay her trust with rapture made her wriggle closer.

Batzorg ate her slit the same way he’d consumed her mouth, like a man savoring his favorite dessert. He licked every fold, probed her entrance, and swirled the flat of his tongue over her throbbing clit.

That was all it took to make her soar.

Her pussy convulsed, soaking his chin as ecstasy rippled through her cunt and fireworks exploded behind her eyelids.

When reality emerged from the haze of her shattering climax, he was still gently lapping her cream and aftershocks of the breath-stealing orgasm fluttered through her core.

He eased her down from his shoulders and cuddled her against his heat. “You taste so wild and sweet, I could spend hours licking your cream.”

Minka believed him. She might not survive that much bliss, but she would love to try.

His hard length lay trapped between her soft belly and his rigid abs, a potent reminder of her lover’s need.

She stretched up on her tiptoes and tugged on his neck. When he bent closer, she whispered, “Let me ride you…please.”

“Would you prefer to ride double?”

The memories of their first ménage encounter flickered in her mind’s eye. More images of her long-ago breakfast with Lorcan flashed and led to visuals of her interlude with Vilmos. Each man held a very special place in her heart.

Batzorg offered her the choice, but she couldn’t choose one over the others and she couldn’t deny any of them. She had no clear notion of how to manage a true ménage, but all three men took such wonderful care of her that she wasn’t worried about them finding a way to share. Her voice lowered to throaty murmur. “I’d rather ride triple.”

“Are you sure, little one?”

Distracted by Batzorg’s naked body, Minka didn’t answer him right away. He was so gorgeous and so comfortable in his skin. Why wouldn’t he be? The mech made the bigger than life—but still basically normal—combination of skin, muscle and bone into pure temptation.

Two big backward steps gave her enough room to take in the challenging angle of his cocked eyebrow along with the heat in his dark gaze.

“You don’t mind.” Her widened eyes and rising inflection made it a guess. Almost a question. She’d fantasized about this, about being with all three of her lovers at the same time, but none of them had suggested a repeat of the single interlude they’d shared.

During that first time, she didn’t know any of them the way she did now. She’d been exhausted, not at her best, and only truly intimate with Batzorg. If they gave her another chance, the bonds they’d forged since their initial encounter would make the outcome so different. Probably. She hoped.

Every time she considered suggesting another ménage interlude, her courage had failed.

Now Batzorg’s rare grin flashed while he closed the gap between them. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Watching you swallow a mech cock, watching a mech cock disappear into your ass, and then watching you shatter with my cock buried to the root in your pussy does not make me mind. It makes me hot.”

His raw words combined with the intoxication of his nearness and the seductive baritone caused the images he’d painted to spring to vivid life in her mind. Her nipples snapped to attention at the possibilities. Feminine muscles rippled with excitement, musky honey drizzled from her core, and her joints loosened in a combination of edgy want and jumpy nerves. “Dear God, me too.”

I would love to be in your mouth.
Vilmos’ ardent response whispered across the telepathic link her thoughts had opened by accident.

Not a single second of privacy
, she teased.

A masculine groan of hunger came from Lorcan.
Your picture of me splitting your ass is killing me, hot stuff.

Batzorg crossed to the bed, turned to face her, and captured her chin. He kissed her softly, feathering light brushes of his lips across hers before he consumed her mouth with the surety of ownership.
Remember you can change your mind if you are uncomfortable. We are here for your pleasure, little one.

And your pleasure is ours
,
Vilmos added fervently.

Lorcan’s voice reverberated inside the connection.
For the quad.

Protect, serve and love,
she shyly amended their traditional closing. A knot of tender emotion for her wonderful mechs filled her throat as she closed the mind link.

Sharing their thoughts bonded her to them like nothing else, but she wanted to concentrate on the overwhelming sensory input from her three amazing lovers.

His long legs hung over the edge of mattress as Batzorg arranged himself crosswise on the bed. The sight was a visual feast of bronze silk taut over hard angles of muscle and bone. A dark line of hair led to the black mat cushioning his package—the definition of masculine perfection. He’d tucked his wounded arm behind his head and his proud erection stood straight out from his body—blatantly ready to serve.

Soon Vilmos joined them, toeing off his boots and yanking his shirt over his head.

Charmed by doc’s enthusiasm, she didn’t comment on the damage to his clothes or mention the problem of finding anything new to fit him. Besides, supplies were Lorcan’s department.

Before doc had finished stripping, Lorcan entered the bedroom, wiped his hands on his apron and crossed to where she waited. He caught her mouth in a heated kiss full of possession and passionate promise.

Both mechs shed their clothes and armor in minutes.

She feasted her eyes on their rugged bodies. All three were large, fierce warriors. When they were this close together, subtle differences were more obvious. Vilmos was an inch or two shorter than Batzorg’s and Lorcan’s seven feet. Lorcan moved with the most fluidity. Batzorg was the broadest. His more powerful body was designed to wield his missing weapon arm. He also had the sharpest hewn features. Lorcan’s face, while rugged, was more open—friendlier. While leanly built, Vilmos would always have the rounded face of a naughty choirboy.

All three of her mechs had dark hair, midnight eyes, beautiful bronze skin and massive cocks. Their erections riveted her attention. She inhaled the addictive blend of mech spice and musk and her mouth dried as all the moisture in her body raced to pool in her breasts and between her legs.

Her tongue darted to lick her arid lips. She lifted her chin.
I am quad and these are my mechs.

“Ready, little one?”

She nodded once, quick and clean, almost believing.

Both Vilmos and Lorcan steadied her as she positioned herself astride Batzorg’s lean hips and locked her gaze with his.

She didn’t need the mind link to read his thoughts. For once he was transparent, letting her see both his desire and his true heart.

Gently, the mechs guided her as she sank to her knees. She grasped the rose-petal soft skin stretched beyond mercy over his rigid cock and notched the thick crown into her soaked entrance. The first contact with his searing shaft shivered through her. Sheer delight of being exactly where she wanted to be—where she belonged—settled her. In a long, slow slide, she impaled most of his hard length in her swollen softness, leaned forward, gripped his broad shoulders for balance then bore down to engulf the rest of his cock.

“You are quad and you are ours.”

Batzorg’s certainty tugged at her heart and she swallowed the rising knot of emotion. Each time she connected with her mechs brought the same erotic miracle. Her melting want collided with their hard need, resulting in sheer bliss and tender feelings she couldn’t hide, but still couldn’t completely believe.

She concentrated on the exquisite sensation of completion.

His swollen cock was proportionate to the rest of him—long, thick and potent. His erection would make any sane woman at least pause before she spread her legs in invitation. Somehow Minka had lost all sense of self-preservation with the mechs.

To her amazement, her ordinary human body stretched to engulf his enormous shaft. His initial penetration skittered along the razor’s edge of pain while unraveling her very essence into a puddle wanting as her intimate muscles convulsed around him.

Filled to capacity and then some, the wet walls of her sheath fisted around the massive erection. Hot cream flowed over his implacable presence in loving welcome, easing the scrape of friction as the ridge of his wide cock scraped her G-spot. Her core shimmied with joy.

“Seeing that thick tool disappear between your perfect pussy lips got me oozing with pre-cum, hot stuff,” Lorcan growled from behind her.

Her dormant inner vixen woke. Doubts and inhibitions vanished. Minka flashed him her best imitation of a siren’s come-here-big-boy glance over her shoulder and arched her back. “Why don’t you get busy spreading my cheeks and rubbing some of your pearly goodness around my back door?”

“Yes ma’am.” Her favorite chef snapped a mock salute.

Batzorg canted his hips and thrust upward to claim possession of her pussy.

An enthusiastic groan of appreciation huffed warm breath along her spine as Lorcan followed her directions and widened the seam of her butt with gentle, firm hands. Without using any real pressure, he rubbed his wet, velvet cock head over the furled entrance to her rear channel. More pre-cum oozed and his slickness seeped down her crack in a trail of burning anticipation.