Page 51 of Fighting For Their Mate

I knew, without seeing it, that the collar was now golden. The claim was official. I had their cocks, their cum, their hearts. All of them.

And with them deep inside me, they knew they had all of me too.

I might be a commander in my own right, but between my mates, I was just Chloe Phan. No, I was Lady Mills. They’d fought for me. Not only the Hive, Commander Karter, but even me.

But now, I’d submitted. There was no longer a fight. I was once and for all, their mate.

Epilogue

Seth, Nineteen Months Later

* * *

It had been a long, exhausting day. The mission had pulled me from bed. Those were the comm pings I hated the most. The ones where I had Chloe pressed to my front, like two spoons in a drawer. My arm was slung over her, my palm settled perfectly so it cupped her breast. It was the same position we always slept unless Dorian grabbed her first. Then he was on his back and he practically had Chloe tucked into his side. She could sleep either way; she was used to her mates constant need to touch and hold her.

Often, I’d wake her by sliding my cock into her sweet pussy from behind, fucking her slowly until she awakened with an orgasm, and my cum deep inside her. With Dorian, all he had to do was lift her up so knees straddled his hips and she was riding him.

Ever since the Battle of the Beast, over a year and a half ago, where we nearly lost her, we’d become unbelievably close. I thought I’d been in love with her before, but after seeing her save us all, risk everything to protect not just the entire battlegroup and one wounded beast, I couldn’t look at her without something breaking inside.

I loved her so much it hurt, the pain one I welcomed, protected and cherished like a fragile, delicate treasure. Because as strong as Chloe was, that’s what she was to me. My life. My soul. Fragile and beautiful and perfect. The intensity of the bond could have been due to the claiming that occurred a few days later, when Dorian and I claimed her for the first time together, our bond complete, the claiming official. The day she became ours forever and our collars changed to gold.

I didn’t really give a fuck as to the reason. It didn’t matter. Chloe was ours and we never stopped showing her. I shucked my uniform and left it in a pile at my feet as I hopped into the shower tube to wash away the grime, the insanity of the mission. Putting one hand on the clear wall, I sighed, thinking of Chloe and how we’d taken her. Both she and Dorian had heard the comms ping, giving me a fifteen-minute warning to join my group for debriefing.

“I must have you, mate, before I go,” I’d said, my voice deep and rough from sleep, my cock hard as a fucking rail. There was no way I could meet the team with a lead pipe in my pants.

She’d lifted her head off Dorian’s arm; she’d used him as a pillow, and smiled sleepily. Dorian had growled, lifted her carefully onto his lap and slipped inside. I’d grabbed the lube and coated myself liberally, taking a little time to prepare my mate first with my fingers as Dorian warmed her up. Only when she was panting and writhing on Dorian’s cock, her ass clenching and milking my digits to go deeper did I work my way past that tight ring of muscle and fuck her deep. It wasn’t easy, even after all this time, but she took both of us beautifully. The ATB was still put to use, especially for play. But this morning, all she got was cock, for I’d needed to be close to my mate, to feel the connection between us through the collars before I went off on my mission.

And now, I wanted her again. But I would have to collect her from her post on the command deck and, like usual, I couldn’t walk about with a hard dick. So I gripped the base and stroked myself to completion. It was a waste of perfectly good cum, liking it best when I planted it deep inside Chloe, but the lingering adrenaline from battle forced my hand. Literally.

Dressing quickly in a clean uniform, I double timed it to the command deck, eager for my mate. The door slid open and there she was, sitting at her assigned spot, special I.C. headpiece over the side of her head. To say that made her look all commanding and sexy was an understatement. Here, she was in charge, or almost in charge, and that was hot as fuck. Just as hot as when she stripped bare just inside the entry of our quarters after a long day, dropped to her knees in submission and asked for our cocks.

Sensing my presence, she spun around in her chair and smiled. “There’s my girl,” I said low, really more for me than anyone else.

“You’re back,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Just.”

“I know you weren’t thrilled about the idea of me going on missions, but this is ridiculous. I can’t actually get up.”

She was grinning and running a hand over her big belly. She was so big with our child in her womb that she looked like she had a watermelon beneath her modified black uniform shir

t. She was glowing, radiant even, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. She was so gorgeous, so lush and ripe I got hard all over again. Good thing she was horny as fuck when pregnant.

I walked over to her, took her hands in mine and tugged her to standing.

“How’s our little man?” I asked, placing my palm over her belly. She took my hand, slid it down lower and I felt a thump. A kick or an elbow.

“That is a little gymnast and I think she’s going to doing a somersault right out of me.”

We’d had this debate of boy versus girl since the very beginning. Neither of us wanted to know the sex. Perhaps it was our Earth upbringing where it was fairly easy to avoid the answer. But Dorian was almost frantic with his interest in knowing what we’d planted in her belly. He swore it was a golden-eyed girl, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he was right.

“We’re in big trouble if this basketball is a girl.”

Chloe removed her special headpiece, set it carefully in its case and looked toward the commander’s office.

I gave Karter a slight nod of greeting.

“Commander, I’ll take that into Karter for you.” An ensign held a hand out. Chloe handed it off and looked to Karter to make sure he knew about the hand-off. They’d been particular as fuck about that little piece of equipment. It—no, Chloe—had saved many lives with it and no one wanted to see it damaged. Karter was responsible for the headpiece and I was responsible for the wearer.

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