Page 82 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
A Tig worked the detector. The long hairs on the tawny ears topping her head flew around under the enormous overhead fan. She efficiently scanned Tunt and Wen’s ident cards.
“Makir, back so soon.” She smiled as Makir raised his wristport to her, the ident card embedded.
He dropped the gift in his arm that Ginger had passed him at the last minute. “Sisip’s sister, right?” His voice wavered as he wiped the back of his hand over his sweaty brow.
She nodded. “Please proceed.”
When the gate opened, I lifted my wristport, proceeded through and snapped Makir back to my side. “Everything’ll be fine.” I plucked the package from his hand before it unraveled from his fidgeting.
The back of his neck was slick when I placed my palm there. “Are you okay?”
“Not now, not now…” Makir clutched his stomach and shuddered. “Oh, bless the goddess Sola. I can’t think.” His tail fluttered behind him like a kite string full of ribbons.
“Finally.” Tunt stamped his boots. “We can leave this frozen wasteland.”
We wove through the private departure bay, and I barely had time to appreciate the liquid metal encased in the walls. The copper and aqua swirls repelled each other. That would make a fantastic floor.
Makir was leaning into me so hard I practically carried him. A small, dark shuttle emblazoned with a giant beast on the side came into view. Relief flooded me when there appeared to be no other crew besides Tunt and Wen. Makir was a wreck, and the fewer people around, the better. I needed to get his nerves settled.
The shuttle door closed, and Makir shuddered as he leaned more of his weight into me. He unzipped his jumpsuit, and I placed my hand to stop his as it reached his belly button, and he rubbed against me like a cat in heat.
Fuck! Why now?
In the confined space, his fragrant odor overpowered me. My knees grew weak, and our time together in the cave for his first heat returned to me. If my fingers were to dip into the crease between the firm globes of his ass, I guaranteed they would return slippery with his wax.
My muscles bunched and thickened. My shirt almost burst at the seams. The itch from earlier was nothing compared to the colossal need pounding its way free from under my skin. I pawed at Makir’s exposed chest, where his jumpsuit gaped open.
Wen groaned, his nostrils flaring, and his tail stood stiffly upright. “Damn, you smell good, Makir.”
My fingers latched on to Makir’s zipper and dragged it up as he whimpered in my arms. “He’s mine,” I snarled, placing myself between the much taller Lornian and Makir, who I tucked behind me. Makir’s arms clasped me from behind, and his lips nuzzled below my ear.
Wen may have been taller, but with my new alpha pheromones, I’d grown thicker and more muscled than most men on Earth. Even with a gut, I was no pushover. I could hold my own against the elite protector and any other who tried to claim my omega.
This incomplete bond is bullshit. Makir was my mate. He was mine for keeps.
Wen’s nostrils flared as he took in more of Makir’s heady scent as the small cabin filled with his mind-numbing flavor.
My cock stood at full attention, ready for duty.
“What’s the holdup?” Tunt turned from the open cockpit door and assessed the situation. “Blant the goddess Sola.” He stormed toward Wen. “Unmated alphas and blanting useless omegas in heat. They’ll be the death of me. Where’s your blanting mask?” Then, with a strength that shocked me, he dragged Wen into the cockpit, belted him into the seat, turned on the overhead ventilation and sealed the door before returning to us.
“Now listen up, Earthling.” Tunt’s lips curled in a snarl. “We need two of us to fly this shuttle, and an omega in a mating frenzy will not make me late, especially a broken one.” He eyed Makir from head to toe.
“He’s not fucking broken!” My hands turned to fists at my side as Makir undid his jumpsuit zipper once more.
“I can’t stand the feel of it on my skin.” He moaned, grinding his pelvis into my side.
I wanted to wring Tunt’s neck as he snapped the fastening on his cuff together, likely offended that it would dare come undone.
Tunt’s nose wrinkled. “As no unmated alpha of suitable rank is available to service this omega, and the High Regent will certainly not approve of you…”
Makir’s purr sent sparks of desire up my spine while Tunt prattled on.
“I command you to refrain from touching the High Lord.” Tunt brushed invisible lint from his uniform coat. “A suitable alpha will be made available to tend to his needs upon his return to Lorne.”
The fuck he will. “That’s Makir’s choice now, isn’t it?” My control fizzled, nerves snapping, wanting to both pummel this jackass and get Makir naked.
Tunt’s stance grew rigid. “It’s clear alphas from Earth know nothing of what an omega needs.” He spun on his heel, strode to the crew access hatch and engaged it. Wen, now masked, lifted his hands in an apology from his co-pilot seat, clearly having heard the whole exchange.
