way that contradicted the demanding tone of his voice.
I did as instructed, opening my mouth, and he guided me forward. Why was I letting him? This was insane. Having sex with a guy was one thing, but being ordered to suck the cock of another at the same time? Why did it make me so hot? Why did I want to please him? Since when did I make it a point to please a man?
I felt good though. Besides, with that cock deep inside me, I wanted to do as he demanded. I wanted to make him lose his mind. I needed them both to feel as good as I did—and I knew, through that strange psychic connection, that he needed me desperately, that he was aching and in pain. He had held himself back to see to my pleasure first.
Behind that desperation and physical lust? Longing. Adoration. Protection. Obsession. Love. I’d never felt anything like this before. My body rode the edge, greedy. On fire. My heart was exploding, the feelings so strong I cried out as I moved forward to claim what was mine, to seal our connection. We three.
I felt the heavy heat of him against my lips, and I licked the tip. The taste of his pre-cum burst on my tongue. Oh yes, he was aroused by me. That drop of essence was all mine, and he was giving it to me. I circled his hardness like an ice cream cone, then took it into my mouth. He was so big I couldn’t take all of him, but I tried to. I wanted to. My hips began to shift, ready to fuck the cock in my pussy.
I had two cocks in me. Mouth and pussy. This was like a porno, but I was no adult film star. I had two males who desired me and wanted me. I wasn’t being used. No, it oddly felt special, decadent. I was the center of these two males’ worlds, and they were the heart and soul of mine. They were pleasuring me as I was doing the same to them.
I only thought of them. Their needs. I felt them somehow. I knew exactly how much I meant to them. I sensed their pleasure and their lust. I could feel how beautiful I was to both of them. I felt worshipped. Adored. Needed. Protected.
No wonder they’d had me wait quietly, to clear my mind. They deserved my attention, and this connection between us, that I somehow knew was tied to the mysterious collar around my—her—neck, was important enough to be in this moment with them.
They spoke to me, deep murmurs of praise and dirty talk. I felt equally cherished and naughty as they slid their cocks in and out of my body, yet the encounter was so hot. I knew what was to come. I’d seen that in this dream. The claiming.
Either this wasn’t normal sex or I’d been doing it wrong. How could it be this incredible, this wild, this dirty and yet feel so good? I was going to come, but I couldn’t say it with my mouth full.
From one heartbeat to the next, I just let go, gave over to the pleasure, to the heat, the blinding light, to the bliss as I clamped down my inner muscles on the cock in my pussy and hollowed out my cheeks in sweet suction, eliciting spurts of hot cum into me. Filling me, body and soul.
“Holy shit,” I said as I writhed on the hard chair, tugged at my wrists. The orgasm still swept through me, but I knew I was no longer in the dream. It was over. I was in the testing chair alone.
No, not alone, for I blinked my eyes open at the warden who was monitoring my testing. She sat at the utilitarian table, her tablet before her.
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. I could feel the thick cum as it had jetted onto my tongue, tasted it still. But it hadn’t been real.
None of it was real, which suddenly had me on the verge of tears for no logical reason. I’d known the whole time that it was part of the Interstellar Brides testing protocol. I’d known. Yet still, this stupid alien technology had gotten into my head, made me want things. Made me feel loved. Special. Adored. Like I belonged.
After the last few months of trials and lawyers and a judge glaring at me from behind the bench, not to mention the bitches I’d had to put up with in jail—well, feeling good now was almost cruel. I’d grown jaded, and that testing had taken it all away from me—literally stripped me of all my mental defenses—in a matter of minutes.
Damn it.
“That was insane. What kind of testing was that?” I asked, my voice harsh. Had they done that to humiliate me? Was it some special torture they devised for felons to force them to feel even worse than they had while sitting in a cold prison cell?
“Bride testing,” Warden Bisset replied. Her name tag read Yvonne Bisset. She was a petite woman who didn’t look much older than me, definitely not yet thirty. She was beautiful in a very European way. She had pale blue eyes and dark blonde hair that seemed to curl perfectly all on its own. Her accent was barely there, her English perfect, but I could hear the French influence.
The other woman, the one in charge, was Warden Egara. I looked to her now because of the two, she seemed to know her stuff. They were about the same age, if I had to guess, but Warden Egara had a real no-nonsense vibe about her, which I appreciated. I’d heard enough lies in the courtroom—from both the prosecutor’s attorneys and mine—to last a lifetime. I was getting a strong truth vibe from her. Warden Egara.
She was everything Yvonne Bisset was not. Dark brown hair. Gray eyes. Severe expression. Her hair, pulled back into a tight, very restrictive bun, gave her cheekbones a harsh look. She was beautiful as well, but there was something almost tragic about her, where Yvonne Bisset seemed to be free-floating perfection.
Warden Bisset was in training, or so I’d been told before they put me under. She’d be going off to Paris to a new bride testing center where they would send even more criminals into space to be sandwiched between two hot aliens until they forget their own names.
And that’s exactly what had happened to me. I forgot I was me and became her. Whoever she was. Lucky woman.
I never panicked, and I never lost control. I hadn’t survived against the ruthless ocean this long as a world-class surfer by losing control of myself when things got dicey.
But that dream? These two ladies had laid waste to me. Wrecked me. And I was embarrassed and not too happy with myself.
“Do any of the brides sue for harassment after you force them to have sex?”
Warden Bisset whispered disagreeably under her breath, but Warden Egara’s dark brow arched. “Were you forced?”
I thought of the dream, the lingering memory of my pussy being crammed full, the burn in my bottom where the plug had been lodged.
Well, shit. It seemed I couldn’t make myself lie to her either. “No, but they ordered me to do things.”
“They were dominants. Most of the males on other planets will be strong and demanding. The typical alpha male.” Warden Bisset’s voice implied I would be pleased by this information, as if dominant, bossy aliens were my thing.
Just great. “You didn’t answer my question. Was that normal?”
Warden Bisset looked down at her tablet. “Actually I’ve never had a volunteer who fought the testing so much. Usually test subjects give in and the dream takes over, allowing access to the subconscious to collect the data needed for the perfect match. You, however, had to be subverted to secondary protocol.”
“What does that mean?” I didn’t even mention the fact that she’d just called me a test subject, like I was a lab rat.
She sighed as if I were a total pain in her backside. I didn’t care. I wanted
