Grace Goodwin - Her Viken Mates

I expected the doctor to leave the room, but he seemed occupied at the control panel, so all three of us ignored him as Evon responded. “Why?”

I looked from his pale blue, ice-like eyes to Liam’s dark blue gaze and shook my head. “This is never going to fucking work. No woman is going to be matched to all three of us.”

It was simply impossible. Liam was from Sector 1, where women were claimed in public. Sector 1 males were obsessed with public fucking and conquering and pleasuring a woman by taking her in the ass in front of everyone. In their sector, that kind of claiming was the ultimate show of submission by their women. A gift given to a worthy warrior. A gift only given through the deepest trust, the most pure consent. Love.

And then there was Evon, who always had to be in command. His sector demanded total submission from a woman, albeit in private. Bondage. Surrender. The warriors there lived for complete and total control. Evon would want a female who would submit, trust him absolutely and yield to his every desire. To place her power, her life and her pleasure into his hands and rely on him to care for her in every possible way.

Me? I cared not about any of those needs. Like most warriors from Sector 3, I simply wanted to feast on a woman’s sweet pussy before I filled her with my seed. I wanted to see her full lips wrapped around my cock as she loved me with her tongue, gifted me, allowed me to fuck her mouth just as I loved to have my fill of the honeyed nectar of her feminine heat. I was patient, could take hours working a woman’s body with my mouth, linger over her delectable scent, drive her to mindless ecstasy with my tongue over and over before I fucked her and made her mine.

“It worked for the kings.” Evon’s cold, analytical tone was one I’d heard many times, usually when we were prepping for battle. And this felt like that. The stakes were high. A matched mate? An end to our lonely existence? High stakes, indeed.

“We’re not kings. We’re not at Viken United. We’re stuck in this ice-covered nightmare of a work station. What fucking female is going to want to come here?” Liam walked to my side and leaned his hips against the exam table, facing the doctor. He crossed his arms. “Rager’s right, Evon. This was a foolish hope.”

Yes, he was correct. The Northern Station was surrounded by icy tundra for hundreds of miles. But the planet relied on the communication station to relay transport and messages from the Coalition Fleet and other member planets. The technical name was Interstellar Quantum Communications array, or the IQC. We were Royal guard, IQC officers, and this station was Viken’s link to the rest of the universe. Without it, we’d be stranded in a sea of black space with no way to contact the others, no way to send our warriors to battle the Hive, nor receive brides. No transport. No comms. Nothing but empty, blank space.

We could survive, in theory. The planet would provide, that wasn’t a concern, for we’d survived for a millennia before the Hive menace rose to unite the planets behind the warriors of Prillon Prime. It was the Prillon warriors who’d first faced the Hive and they’d fought the longest. The Hive was a menace and the IQC array, our comms and transport capabilities, were crucial to keeping the planet free of them.

What we did here was important, and every warrior assigned to the IQC had been chosen because we knew exactly what was at stake. We had all fought in the war, seen the Hive and their horrors with our own eyes. But hearing Liam agree with me didn’t improve my mood. Apparently, it didn’t improve Evon’s either.

“When I’m right, I’m going to make you both beg me to touch her.” The heated desire in Evon’s eyes made me grin.

“Is that supposed to be a threat, Evon? Because you’re such a controlling fuck, I figured that was how it would be anyway.” I laughed then, because Liam chuckled at my declaration, and he rarely laughed at all.

“He’s right, you know.” Liam’s chuckle faded to a grin, but his eyes remained all too serious. And there, in that stormy gaze, was Liam’s soul on display. Evon was the strategist, but Liam was the realist. He’d lost his family, grown up hard, the son of a VSS leader. The damn VSS. Our own internal enemy. Worse than the Hive, in a way, since they were Vikens—traitors—who wanted to see a return to civil war, to separate nations now united by the three kings. They’d already tried to assassinate the heir, the Princess Allayna, and return Viken to chaos.

Liam’s father was a leader of the Viken Sector Separatists, one of the men behind the attack on the new princess. By then, Liam was already long gone from the VSS influence. When Liam landed in prison as a teen, and then volunteered to serve in the Coalition Fleet battling the Hive, his family disowned him. He had no blood left, for even his mother hadn’t spoken to him in years. And in Sector 1, family was everything. We were his family now. His only family.

Liam lifted his hand to rest on Evon’s shoulder. “We know you, Evon. You get one look at a mate and you’ll start barking orders like we’re back on Noerzen 5 facing down Hive berserkers.”

That battle had almost killed us all, but Evon had held the team together. We’d fought like Atlan beasts because he ordered us to, because he led the charge, and we’d survived.

“I will adapt. We’ll all adapt.” Evon’s argument was weak, and we all knew it. I grunted in disagreement as Liam spoke.

“No. We won’t.” Liam shook his head and his long hair swung in a dark curtain past his shoulders, hiding the rest of his expression from me. But I could hear the desire in his voice, and the despair. “We’re too different, brother. If you really want a mate, you will have to find warriors more like you. Hell, we all have different needs. My cock gets hard thinking about my mate’s upturned ass, watching as it’s stretched open as I slide into her, one sweet inch at a time. I like to see my handprint turn pink on her pert ass cheeks.”

Liam elbowed me in the ribs, I assumed to encourage me to second his opinion, but I ignored him. I was half a head taller than both of them, and much larger. They had called me the Bronze Beast in our unit because of both my dark bronze hair color and my size. I was big for a Viken, and impulsive. Sometimes I felt out of control, like a beast in Mating Fever. Massive warrior loaded with weapons and a bad attitude? Not exactly a good combination. I’d gotten in a lot of trouble when I was younger, a fresh recruit. Now, I counted on Liam and Evon to rein me in and keep me in line. On the rare occasions when I was pushed too far, when I lost my head, one of them was always there to step between me and trouble.

“Why are you elbowing me? I know what gets you off. While a willing ass isn’t something I would walk away from, I have simpler tastes.”

Evon laughed, slapped my shoulder. “Exactly. Tastes. You’ll eat pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Damn right.” I thought of the dream, of the female who’d come from my mouth, then my cock. Shit. She’d been bound, but I wouldn’t need my mate bound for her to part her thighs, not unless Evon pleasured her first. I was getting hard again and had to adjust myself in my uniform pants. “You’ll have her tied to a bed, at your mercy.”

Evon shook his head. “She’ll give me her trust. The greatest gift.”

“It’ll never work,” Liam grumbled. “A matched mate for one of us is bound to be a little wild. But meet the needs of all three of us? Impossible.”

I stood and sighed. We’d done the tests. I was the last of the three of us. Now we waited. And waited, because there was no way on Viken, or any other planet in the universe, that there was a female that loved to be fucked and sucked, controlled and commanded, bent over and completely claimed in public. Nor one who could put up with my impulsive nature, or Liam’s dark, brooding silences, or Evon’s need to be in control, command every detail of every moment, every encounter. He was relentless, the sun burning in a desert. He never stopped. Never rested.