“We do business with the great-grandsons of the men and women we first met when we arrived on Deemak, and there’s no profit in making them resentful of you. The sons and daughters of those men are eager to continue business with us, because in the days of their grandparents, we worked out a deal that had no battle, no winner, and no loser. Respect is an investment that pays handsome dividends for eternity.”
The enormity of the time span the Aurelians have lived here suddenly stretches out in front of me. Hundreds of years of life they’ve already lived, and thousands more await them. To many humans on Deemak, the Aurelians are considered outsiders, aliens, or interlopers – and yet they have lived here longer than countless generations of the native human families.
I suddenly feel as insignificant as a gnat. If I were to be in their harem, I’d give them the best years of my life, and then grow old and wrinkled, and eventually die – while they all stayed youthful and strong.
Suddenly, the triviality of all this wealth and opulence becomes apparent. I revere old things, as if the centuries give them value. To an Aurelian, even centuries pass like seasons of a human year.
“Come,” Gallus extends his huge hand, and I take it without even deciding to.
His fingers close around mine, and I follow the towering warrior down the stairs. There, he takes his place at the third of the enormous leather chairs, between the two other Aurelians, and I suddenly feel out of place - as though I’m interrupting a sacred ritual.
The three of them are preparing for a business deal tonight – one that could impact the next hundreds of years of their lives, and change the face of life on Deemak for thousands.
They prepare with study, introspection, and learning.
It makes me compare them to Darr. When he wheels and deals, he’s always thinking on his feet and bullshitting slickly. He’s smart and careful – and the fences he lines up to buy stolen merchandize are eager to pay for it – but it’s like watching a dog chase scraps, while these three are like kings playing chess with real cities and communities taking the place of the playing pieces.
Cyrus looks up at me. Despite the silent atmosphere and somber ambience, he grins that cocky, infuriating smirk of his.
“You complained that we don’t take care of this place? So, go take care of it!” He speaks nonchalantly, and my cheeks burn red beneath his gaze. Cyrus might sound nonchalant, and he might still have a cocky grin on his lips, but I see the truth now. His eyes are still burning for me. Varian, too, might wear an air of reserved suspicion, his lips a thin line – but even he is clearly aching for me in a way that turns me on wildly.
Between the hungry gaze of Cyrus, Gallus and Varian, my nipples harden. I suddenly realize just how helpless I am in this room, with these three Aurelians. The huge warriors could do anything they wanted to me, and if they lost control of themselves during the mating frenzy that ensured…
I shudder.
I’ll have to trust that they won’t.
They are men, at the end of the day – not beasts – and I already know they wouldn’t take me without my consent. The problem is: I’m actually starting to ache for it. I’m starting to get obsessed with the image of those three men taking me, and completely losing control; ravishing me one by one, or all as one…
Gods!
Just the idea makes heat flush between my legs. I’ve never felt anything like this before. My body is betraying me.
I turn, taking the duster, and I start frantically dusting the walls. It’s more of a gesture than anything else, to prove that I’m doing my job – that I’m earning my keep…
I can’t do nearly as good a job as an automated system would do, but I keep having to remember that cleaning isn’t the reason for this game.
Nope… This façade with the maid’s outfit is merely so they can dress me up and watch their little toy. Cyrus is playing with fire, though. Sooner or later, he might crack… if I don’t crack first…
I can feel the eyes of the three Aurelians burning a hole through my clothing. I feel clumsy as I bring my duster against the wood of the old bookshelves, cleaning the spines of these ancient texts. There’s a small table on one corner with ornate cut-crystal decanters, each filled with dark and fiery alcohols I imagine were poured from ancient and invaluable barrels. Arranged around them are equally delicate crystal glasses. The thin layer of dust shows that they’ve not been used in quite some time, so in order to look busy I pick one up, dusting it with a cloth.
The eyes of the Aurelians are still on me. I know it. Even with my back turned to them, I can feel them staring at me. I wonder what they’re thinking…
No, I don’t.
I know exactly what they’re thinking. The three of them are imagining taking me hard – right here and right now. They’d step up behind me and press me up against the bookshelves, each taking turns, one by one rutting me until they spurt inside me and throw me to the next in line like a spent vessel.
It’s degrading… humiliating… And yet my nipples harden instantly at the wicked thought of it. If only I didn’t know that one single taste of me would ruin everything – that the moment they had me, they’d each sate their momentary lust, but find their true desire left unsatisfied.
And the worst part? I’m so tempted to succumb to their lust, even knowing how it could ruin everything – that it could ruin me.
I can’t imagine ever being with a normal human man after that. All I’d ever think about again would be the
