• Home
  • Rachel Clark
  • The Ambassador's Accidental Marriage (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 2

The Ambassador's Accidental Marriage (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read online

Page 2


  The first soft touch of a paintbrush against her breast had her moaning rather loudly. The older woman smiled and patted Cindy’s arm as if she were quite pleased by the noise. Frantically searching her brain for any hint of why they would find her obvious arousal appealing, Cindy damn near leapt off the bed when the brush slid over her swollen mound.

  “Shit!” she managed to pant out in a most undiplomatic outburst. Cindy tried to sit up, but two of the women held her still with surprising strength. The third continued to paint the intricate design over her recently denuded flesh, ensuring that her arousal climbed even higher. Gasping for air, determined to hide just how much the gentle touch was affecting her, Cindy almost burst into tears when the sensual torture ceased.

  The women helped her roll over and then painted several more designs on her back, bottom, and legs. When the older woman finally prompted her to stand up, Cindy was surprised to find the room empty except for the two of them.

  “We have little time,” she said as she lifted a gossamer-thin, see-through material over Cindy’s head and arranged it to her liking. She stood back to check her handiwork, adjusted the material slightly—there wasn’t enough of it to call it a dress—and then nodded her approval. “You are very beautiful, Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards. The master and mistress will be pleased that you were chosen to be…What is it your people call it? A bridessss mead?”

  “Bridesmaid,” Cindy answered absently, still fighting the incredible arousal that seemed to be growing even though nobody was touching her any longer.

  “I know you will be happy here,” the older woman said. “The ceremony starts a few minutes from now. Somebody will be along shortly to escort you.” The woman left before Cindy could confirm how long a few minutes was on this planet. The trouble with the translator in her ear was that in the cases of time and distance the words were translated to the standard human language but without reference to the planet’s specific time frames. All of the planets had different sizes, rotation speeds, and orbital arcs, so a minute on one planet could literally be the equivalent of ten Earth minutes or even several hours.

  Fortunately for Cindy, a few minutes turned out to be a rather short time. It didn’t help that she spent most of that time wondering if it was safe to masturbate away her ridiculous and inconveniently timed horniness. So by the time the guards came back to escort her to the ceremony she was barely aware of her practically naked state.

  She was aware, however, of her swollen sex and how every step pressed against her hypersensitive clit. Hell, what the fuck was wrong with her?

  She didn’t even realize they’d arrived at the ceremony until a strange language came through her translator. She tapped the tiny disc in her ear as irritation ran through her. The last thing she needed was for her only means of understanding the language of this planet to go on the fritz. The nearest guard leaned over and whispered, “The ceremony is said in an ancient dialect. I doubt your translator knows it.”

  She bit back the curse words that were on her tongue and nodded her thanks instead. So far just about everything in the information provided by the IGAC mission outline had been incorrect. When she got home, somebody was going to get yelled at—big-time! How the hell did they expect to further diplomatic contact with far-off planets if they couldn’t get at least a few details right?

  “…Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards” came through her translator a moment before the guards in front of her stepped to the side, and she finally got a look at the front part of room they were in. It seemed quite small for what was essentially a royal wedding, but Cindy hid her curiosity behind a friendly smile. She still managed to hide her teeth, just in case that part of the report was correct.

  The man and woman she’d seen earlier—the two who’d coated her in lotion—stepped into the semicircle of guards and stood either side of her. They were nearly as naked as she was. The woman wore a see-through covering almost identical to Cindy’s own, and the man only had his genitals covered with a soft-looking cloth. If they were anything like humans, Cindy would guess that they were as turned on as her.

  Cindy smiled as the groom turned to the bride and kissed her passionately, but gasped in surprise as he lifted the bride’s gossamer thin gown to touch her intimately. Cindy tried desperately to hold on to her diplomatic training, but as aroused as she was already the sensual display was definitely not helping.

  In front of everyone the bride unfastened the material that rode low on the groom’s hips and curled her fingers around his rather impressive erection. Even as they caressed each other, the bride and groom both reached for her, pulling her into their little circle, touching, kissing, moaning, obviously enjoying themselves.

  The bride hugged Cindy to her, gasping with pleasure as the groom lifted her slightly and thrust his hard cock straight into her pussy from behind. The groom fucked her joyously as his bride kissed Cindy. Overwhelmed by sensation, both intrigued and slightly embarrassed by her unexpected inclusion in their rather public fucking, Cindy held the woman and caressed her gently. She’d been involved in some rather intricate and intimidating ceremonies before, but this wedding certainly topped even her strangest encounters.

  The bride whispered in Cindy’s ear, but the words failed to translate as the woman shattered into orgasm a moment later. Groaning, the man fucked her even faster, pushing her harder against Cindy even as he seemed to be trying to hold them both to him. He groaned as well and then pressed a kiss to Cindy’s lips over his wife’s shoulder. Both the bride and groom breathed heavily for a moment, and then almost as one drew back slightly to smile at her.

  When the bride moved to the left so that the man could wrap his arms more fully around Cindy, pull her close, and press a passionate, drugging kiss to her lips, Cindy knew she was in definite trouble. As horny as she felt she was likely to drag him closer and beg him to fuck her, too, his wife and their audience be damned. But the woman was already touching her, caressing Cindy’s oversensitized flesh. She shocked herself by moaning in appreciation.

  Embarrassed by her own reactions, Cindy pulled away, jumping in fright when both the bride and groom looked startled and moved to hold her more tightly.

  The words, “What the fuck?” escaped her lips before she could censor them.

  “Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards,” the man whispered in her ear, “you appear to be upset. Did you not know of this part of the ceremony?”

  “This is part of the ceremony?” she asked in a voice too high and too hoarse to be normal.

  “Do humans prefer to consummate the relationship in private?”

  “What?” she yelped, even though she was trying to whisper. Consummate? What the hell had she’d gotten in to? Bridesmaids did not fuck at the wedding. Well some did, she thought with a hysterical giggle, but they sure as shit didn’t do it with the bride and groom in the church in front of the guests.

  “Perhaps,” the woman said, her hand caressing Cindy’s back in soothing circles, “we need to speak to our chattel in private.”

  The word chattel scared the hell out of her. Surely the translator had interpreted that incorrectly. She wasn’t property. She was an important, hardworking diplomat for the Intergalactic Ambassador Corp’s Earth division with an excellent history of successful missions.

  But the words, the heat, the fear, and the confusion all combined to drain the energy from Cindy’s overwrought body, and she felt her knees buckle a moment before the black abyss engulfed her.

  Chapter Two

  Eric of Riley, Firstborn Son of King Adekai caught the Earth woman as she fainted at his feet. She was beautiful—even more so now that her skin showed the painted symbols of their union—but the deep-blue patterns were stark against her suddenly pale skin.

  He lifted her high into his arms, his beautiful mubella, Loukie, nodding in silent agreement as he carried the human female from the ceremonial room and into the chamber where they had earlier anxiously waited for their mubellabina to arrive. The room didn’t hav
e a bed, so he lowered himself into one of the large, comfortable chairs and held the woman close to his heart.

  Loukie entered the room a moment later with Eric’s father’s personal physician in tow.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked in an irritated voice as he unpacked equipment from the silver case he’d carried in with him. “I told your father that a human wouldn’t be able to cope with the claiming ceremony.”

  “Nothing happened,” Eric said, trying to keep his anger in check. The doctor wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t thought himself since the woman had collapsed, but the accusation that he and Loukie might have somehow hurt the woman stung. “She seemed confused when we kissed her, and then she lost consciousness.”

  “So the final part of the ceremony was abandoned before the mubellabina claiming began?”

  “Yes,” Eric said through tightly clenched teeth. If he hadn’t known the doctor for most of his life he might have let his temper explode at the inference that they would continue with the ceremony even with the woman unconscious. Fortunately the doctor finally realized how his words were being taken and quickly corrected himself.

  “My apologies, Eric of Riley, Firstborn son of King Adekai.” The doctor glanced up from his equipment to give him a quick nod before dropping the formality. “Eric, it was not my intention to offend you. I know that you and Loukie would never harm anyone—human or otherwise.”

  Eric dipped his head in acknowledgement, not trusting his voice at that moment. It had been a long day. First the annoyance that his and Loukie’s fathers would collude behind their backs and choose their mubellabina for them, then the excitement he’d felt upon first meeting Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards, and now the terror gripping him as he held the unconscious woman in his arms.

  “The good news,” the doctor finally said as he stepped away, “is that she only fainted. Physically she’s fine. I suspect that whatever she was told by the people who sent her here, it didn’t include details on the mubellabina claiming part of the ceremony.” He dragged on the earlobe of his left ear in a clear sign of his own agitation. “I am no expert on human culture, but I believe that most unions are consummated in private. Perhaps you will have a chance to ask her when she wakes up.”

  “When will that be?” Eric asked anxiously. If she’d only fainted wouldn’t she recover quickly?

  “I am uncertain,” the doctor said, tugging at his earlobe again, “but all of my scans indicate that she is merely sleeping.”

  “Could your scans be wrong?”

  “Unlikely,” he said as he closed the case that held his medical equipment. “Humans and Desconians are very similar in genetic makeup. It is why your father wants you to interbreed with her. With the decline in Desconian fertility rates, human women may be our only option for procreation.”

  Eric really hoped the woman in his arms was truly asleep. Learning of the king’s plans to breed her like some type of stock animal moments after fainting when she realized he and Loukie intended to claim her publicly would not help the situation.

  “Aren’t the days shorter on Earth?” Loukie asked. Eric had often found her diligently studying other cultures. “I read somewhere that Earth days are only about two thirds of one of ours. Is it possible she’s just tired?”

  “Most likely,” the doctor said. He tapped his chin with a long, elegant finger. “It may be wise to schedule two sleep periods each day for her. At least until she adapts to the longer days on Descon. For now, it would be best to take her to your quarters so that she can rest comfortably.”

  The doctor nodded his good-byes and left the room.

  “Come on, Eric,” Loukie said as she offered him a hand up. “Let’s take our mubellabina home.”

  * * * *

  Loukie lay on the bed beside a sleeping Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards and wondered if the human woman had a shorter name. It was probably the least of her worries at this point, but it was the first thing she intended to ask when their mubellabina woke up.

  The human’s health had returned, giving her beautiful face a more appealing shade compared to the yellowish-white color it had been earlier. Some of her hair had escaped the elaborate ceremonial braid, but Loukie could tell by the wispy pieces that it was a rich collection of hues all the way from a deep brown to a yellow gold. The artificial lighting caught some of the lighter colors, highlighting them as the woman moved. Loukie had never seen a human woman up close before, and she found herself wondering if the very beautiful Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards was a typical example.

  Lost in her musings, Loukie almost missed the moment the human opened her eyes.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Loukie said quietly, hoping not to startle the poor woman. From everything she and Eric had been able to ascertain in the past hour, this human had no idea she’d been sent here to be their mubellabina. Somebody had finally decided to look up the Earth term “bridesmaid” and had discovered that it was indeed very different to what their translators had assumed.

  It was the most frustrating part of dealing with different cultures. The electronic translators were a marvel of technology, able to quickly translate the spoken word and relay it directly to the wearer’s brain, retaining both the pitch and tone of the conversation, but even they got it wrong on occasions.

  Earth Ambassador Cindy Richards glanced around the room a little nervously, but offered a small smile and a quiet hi.

  “How are you feeling?” Loukie asked, trying to control the urge to trace the patterns of her marks on the human’s body. She didn’t want to frighten the woman, so she resisted the impulse, for now.

  “Fine,” the woman lied, but she must have sensed Loukie’s disapproval at the flippant response because she finally added, “Confused. Annoyed. Maybe a little frightened.”

  “There’s no need to be frightened. No harm will come to you. And we might be able to help with the confusion.” Loukie leaned over and brushed away the hair that had fallen over the human’s eye. “And I have a surefire cure for annoyance.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” her mubellabina said in what seemed to be both nervous displeasure and unwilling interest. But then the woman seemed to grow serious, frowned, and glanced at Eric before settling her gaze on Loukie once more. “I think perhaps the information I was given before starting this mission was incomplete or maybe even flawed.”

  “We discovered the same thing while you were sleeping. The translation for the word you used seems to indicate an assisting role in the ceremony, not a central one.”

  “Central? Central, as in, I’m the bride?”

  The word she used also translated to mubellabina, so Loukie hesitated to confirm it. They’d already had one major misunderstanding between cultures today, and she sure as shooting didn’t want another.

  “I do not know for certain what that means, Earth Ambassador Cindy Rich—”

  The woman held up a hand close to Loukie’s mouth, and she stopped talking in the hopes that it was what the woman’s action meant.

  “Please. I’m lying nearly naked in what I assume is your bed. The least you can do is call me Cindy.”

  “Cindy,” Loukie said with what she hoped the human would interpret as a friendly smile. The woman had seemed determined to hide her teeth when she made a similar facial expression earlier, and Loukie worried that perhaps her wide smile would offend humans. Thankfully, Cindy seemed to relax just a little and even attempted to smile back.

  Cindy fidgeted for a while before asking, “What is ‘chattel’ in your culture?”

  This new word also translated to mubellabina, but Loukie could tell from the way Cindy’s lips moved that it was completely different to the other word. Was the translator malfunctioning?

  “The word is not translating correctly. Can you explain what it means in your culture?”

  “It means a possession. Something belonging to you. A slave.”

  She said the last word with her teeth clenched tightly.

  “A slave?” Eric asked in a
n outraged voice as he came closer to the bed. “Who said this to you?”

  * * * *

  Cindy controlled the urge to cringe away from the man’s anger. Somehow she knew the rage wasn’t directed toward her, but it had been such a strange day that she was having trouble controlling even her most basic physical responses.

  It didn’t help that she was still tingling all over. Her pussy felt swollen, and her clit was begging for attention. A few soft strokes from her own finger would likely set off the orgasm that had been simmering beneath the surface ever since these two Desconians had rubbed lotion all over her.

  “Can we start with names, please? I don’t even know who you two are.”

  “I am Eric of Riley, Firstborn son of King Adekai and this is Loukie-riana of Ezra, Firstborn daughter of King Gordenak.” He must have seen how hard she was trying to commit that information to memory because he smiled—with teeth—and added, “But you may call us Eric and Loukie.”

  “Thank you,” she said, unable to hide her relief. She’d been trained to remember intricate details such as name, rank, and title when dealing with the leaders of various planets, but never before had she been quite so off balance. Her chances of remembering such details today were slim at best.

  She moved her legs restlessly, trying to quell the tingling that grew when she again realized she was almost naked between these two beautiful people who were wearing what appeared to be little more than see-through clothing. They seemed to be decorated for the purpose of the ceremony, but the material didn’t exactly hide their assets. Denying the secret urge to roll on top of Loukie and take what she needed, despite never having been attracted to a female before, Cindy struggled to return to their earlier topic of conversation.

  “Just before…” She hesitated, unsure how to phrase the rest of the sentence. Just before you tried to fuck me in public didn’t seem very diplomatic. It also managed to set off delicious eddies of heat in her belly. She dragged in a deep breath. “Just before I passed out, one of you said, ‘perhaps we need to speak to out chattel—our slave—in private.’”