MenageLost Read online

  Menage Lost

  Cynthia Sax

  Part of the Operation Erotic series.

  Trapped on a plant-dominated planet, Mirian hasn’t seen another humanoid in five years. She’s never seen humanoids resembling Furu and Xan, a beautiful aristocrat and his beastly warrior lover. Watching their shared passion makes her burn with desire and ache for companionship. Wishing to experience the ecstasy of their touch, Mirian eagerly trades the only thing she owns—her body—for what she believes to be a breathtakingly ardent but casual affair.

  Furu and Xan don’t engage in casual affairs. They want Mirian permanently as their breeder, and they’ll battle their unnatural female, a male-eating plant and the entire Balazoid army to claim her.

  Menage Lost

  Cynthia Sax

  Chapter One

  An artificial thunder rolled across the mist-covered sky, the unnatural sound signaling a change Mirian both welcomed and dreaded.

  “Do you hear that?” She tilted her head back. “Ohhh…the visitors are landing.” Mirian bounced on the balls of her bare feet, nervous and excited and scared. “They’re landing, Steve.”

  A small silver ship, the same ship she’d spotted skimming along the planet’s surface yesterday, emerged from the heavy blanket of moisture. Dewdrops dappled its metallic panels. Markings in a language she didn’t know were boldly etched along its hull.

  “I thought we’d never see another being ever again.” She trembled with excitement, having lived as the solitary humanoid on the vegetation-dominated plant for the past five years, that status pushing her to the edge of insanity.

  “So please don’t eat them.” Mirian glanced over her shoulder at the plant looming above her, his fuchsia flowers angled toward the ship, his blooms serving as eyes, his visual system as evolved as those found in warm-blooded life forms.

  “Unless they’re slavers.” She shuddered, remembering how the slavers had dragged away the discovery team’s leader Denise, the humanoid female’s heart-wrenching screams haunting Mirian’s dreams.

  “If they’re slavers, eat them and leave the ship intact,” she advised. Many of her supplies were sourced from a replicator and the machine desperately needed parts, the rectangular prism frame held together with twigs and hand-twisted twine.

  “Don’t let them capture me as you let them capture Denise. I’m your friend, remember.” Mirian tapped a broad green leaf, Steve’s veins plump and heavy with a red liquid resembling blood, the uniquely Viridian plant incorporating animalistic attributes. “I feed you Sus, those sweet little rodents you like. I—”

  The roar of the ship’s engines drowned out Mirian’s words. Wind whipped her hair back and rippled the blue mud she’d slathered on her skin, the decaying vegetation’s stench masking her human scent, the cool layer lowering her body temperature.

  “Please let them be humanoid,” she murmured, clasping her calloused hands together. Steve, the alpha plant she’d named after her first botany professor, curled a comforting vine around her shoulder, and she leaned into him, his leaves pressing against her bare back, supporting her weight.

  The ship landed with a planet-shaking thud, boulders rattling, and a tree limb crashing to the ground. Steve fluttered his leaves, expressing his irritation with the disturbance.

  Mirian groaned, the visitors’ careless landing dramatically lowering their odds of survival, Steve viewing any affront to his planet as an act of aggression. “Don’t hurt them.” She rubbed the healed puncture marks on her right arm, the scars a constant reminder of the plant’s bad temper.

  “You don’t know when or if we’ll get more visitors. This could be our only chance.” To re-establish contact with the outside world, to ease the loneliness, to talk to someone, anyone, to feel human once again. She danced in place, the anticipation almost unbearable. What will they look like?

  The high grasses, majestic torch trees and white clouds reflected off the shiny silver panels, the spacecraft visually disappearing into the landscape. A ramp silently descended, and bright lights illuminated the void, temporarily blinding Mirian.

  She glanced down at the ground and bit back a curse, her highly intelligent plant friend not waiting to identify their guests. He slowly snaked his vines along the flattened grass and wrapped them around the landing gear, securing the ship to the planet.

  “Subtle, Steve, really subtle.” Mirian rolled her eyes, too exhilarated to be angry with him.

  A red beam radiated from the ship and she froze in place, holding her breath, her stomach clenching with fear. The light passed over them, tickling her skin, and dissipated, leaving them unharmed. Not a weapon. She exhaled, sagging forward, and Steve mimicked her actions, his thin, flexible trunk folding into two.

  Polished black boots clomped against the metal ramp. Mirian lifted her gaze over a pair of leather-clad legs, the newcomer’s skintight garment covered with a staggering amount of daggers and guns. Thick gloved fingers gripped yet another weapon, that gun larger than the others, and the male’s bulging biceps flexed, his toned chest topped by broad shoulders.

  She gazed higher and blinked, taken aback by the raw aggression reflected in the stranger’s fuck-with-me-and-die face, his slicked-back black hair accentuating his white skin, his chin square and firm.

  “Humanoid, definitely humanoid,” Mirian murmured. The male glared at his surroundings with blazing red eyes, as though daring someone to attack him, and her pussy moistened, his dominance unexpectedly arousing. “A very sexy humanoid.”

  The big brute turned his head with a snap and peered in her direction, his dark brows lowered, shielding his eyes. “Who’s there?” His deep voice echoed as though traveling over a long distance. “Show yourself.”

  Helenos no. Mirian remained hidden in the tall grass. Is he a slaver? She glanced at the weapons accessorizing his outfit. He doesn’t look like a slaver. No restraints dangled from his belt. He could be a warrior, but why would a warrior land on Viridi?

  Is the why important? He did land and I’m no longer alone. Mirian opened her mouth to answer him.

  “Are you talking to the plants, Xan?” A voice originated from the ship.

  Another male. She pressed her lips together.

  The second male glided down the ramp, his slight, thin form garbed in the same black leather, his skin the whitest white and his eyes a deep crimson. Finely arched eyebrows accentuated a delicate, perfect profile.

  He’s beautiful. Mirian’s jaw dropped. Fuck me gorgeous.

  “I’ve performed multiple scans.” The breathtakingly stunning male waved a small handheld device. “Only Amani-like creatures inhabit Viridi.” The tentacles on his head lifted, each skin-covered strand moving independently.

  Tentacles, pale skin, red eyes. Mirian’s shoulders lowered, her concerns vanishing. He’s a Balazoid, friend to the Federation.

  “I heard a female voice speaking words in the universal language.” The beastly warrior, Xan, frowned, his wide sloping forehead creasing with lines. “And you saw a larger heat signature.”

  “Briefly.” His beautiful companion shrugged his narrow shoulders, his pale lips turned upward. “It was likely a glitch. You know how fragile these instruments are.” He crouched down and jabbed a long needle into the soft ground.

  They’re fellow scientists. The Federation sent them back for me, for my research. Mirian covered her mouth with her palms, grateful that she’d continued the readings the Federation had been willing to risk lives to obtain.

  She stepped forward, eager to make their acquaintance, to talk to them, to share her discoveries. Steve wrapped a vine around her waist and pulled her backward into the safety of the forest.

  “You—”

  He smacked a thick vine over her lips, smothering her protests.

&nb
sp; Bastard plant. Mirian struggled, biting into his sour epidermis, kicking her feet and punching the air, her efforts futile. Steve held her snugly, restraining her as easily as he’d held her during the slavers’ visit, his strength pulled from the planet itself, ancient and powerful and unyielding. The more she squirmed, the tighter his vines coiled around her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

  Can’t breathe. Blackness descended, thick and deadly, and Mirian slumped, conceding defeat. Steve’s grip on her body eased and she gulped the moisture-laden air, her lungs burning. Steve patted her with his leaves as though to comfort her, the overbearing ass.

  Fuck you, Steve. Mirian extended her index finger at the plant, an obscene hand gesture she used often. Steve hit her back harder, punishing her for her insolence.

  The Balazoid, oblivious of Mirian’s near-death experience, sighed. “You won’t catch anything but if they make you feel better, set the traps.”

  Traps? Mirian stiffened. Scientists don’t set traps.

  And why didn’t they land closer to the settlement site? She gazed at their ship, their disembarkation making no sense. The only reason they wouldn’t land there is if… A weariness swept over her. They didn’t know about the site. They didn’t know about me.

  Mirian stared at the two males. Then why are they here?

  Xan slung his gun over his shoulder and cupped his colleague’s aristocratic face in his big hands. “I’ll keep you safe, Furu.” He skimmed his lips over Furu’s. Furu opened to him and their mouths meshed, their arms strapped around each other, the heat of their embrace reaching Mirian, melting her more practical questions into puddles of non-importance.

  I want that. She swallowed hard, her throat parched and her chest tight with need. And I’ll do anything to get it. Their hard bodies collided, the two males pushing their hips forward, no space between their fit forms.

  But that anything won’t be enough. Mirian sighed, their passion not requiring a third person, an unnecessary female. I have the shittiest luck. She watched wistfully as Furu and Xan, beauty and his gun-toting beast, grabbed each other, squeezing asses and clutching shoulders. Two hot male humanoids finally arrive on Viridi and they’re a couple.

  “There will be time for release later.” Furu pulled away, his cock straining against his black leather uniform. Mirian licked her dry lips, aching for a taste, a touch, unable to recall the last time she sucked a cock. “First, set your traps.”

  “They’ll be set up by nightfall. Complete your testing while I’m gone.” Xan slapped Furu’s ass hard, the sound ringing through the forest. “The faster we carry out these missions, the faster we’ll earn our way home.” He lumbered into the forest, whistling a jaunty tune.

  “With you, anywhere is home,” Furu muttered. He bent down and scooped the blue soil into a clear container. His eyes glazed over as he carefully worked, Mirian recognizing the signs of an intellectual stupor, an affliction she often shared.

  What is Furu testing for? And what are they hoping to catch with their traps? She gazed at the path Xan had taken. I need parts for the replicator and to re-establish some sort of contact with the outside world. Mirian chewed on the inside of her cheek. If I find out what they need, we can make a trade.

  “You keep a petal on the Balazoid,” she whispered to Steve, his blossoms the equivalent of human eyes. “I’ll follow the big guy.” She wiggled out of the plant’s grasp.

  “Don’t eat either male.” She shook her finger at Steve. “They’re humanoid like me so they won’t taste good.” Mirian hurried after Xan, her steps silent and light, her bare feet skimming over the soft ground.

  * * * * *

  I’m being hunted.

  Xan stopped short and studied the narrow path, the sensitive skin on the back of his neck prickling, his muscles tensing.

  Behind me.

  He pivoted on his booted heels. Trees, taller than any he’d seen, swayed in the hot, humid breeze, looming forest soldiers standing guard over the smaller plants. In the leaf-laden branches, insects fluttered their brightly colored wings and shrieked, their eerie calls echoing through the space, warning others of his presence.

  Others.

  There’s a danger in being first. Xan surveyed the lush, green jungle, a land no Balazoid or Dreck had ever explored. His gaze settled upon a large plant with distinctive pinkish-purple flowers, its thick vines positioned an arm’s length closer than he remembered.

  Xan narrowed his eyes. The vines remained still. Not one leaf twisted in the wind.

  Because plants don’t move, Dreck. Xan ran his hand over his human hair, a signal to the worlds that he wasn’t a true Balazoid. Furu is right. I’m paranoid.

  He shrugged off his suspicions, pulled a young sapling down to the ground, knotted the braided vines around the trigger stick and laid the loop over the primitive yet effective snare. Xan straightened, the circle of defensive traps around their ship complete, his first and most important task on these planet explorations to protect Furu, his lover, his life.

  As he turned, his hand brushed against the flowering vine. What the fuck? He glared at the plant and reached for his favorite dagger.

  The petals of the plant moved. Xan leaned closer, searching for the source. The flower swirled around and around, and his surroundings blurred, his vision turning hazy. The dagger dropped from his limp fingers, landing soundlessly on the ground. A rush of bone-melting calmness swept over him, the tension in his shoulders dripping down his body.

  In the lush bloom, Xan saw everything he’d ever wanted, the dream he’d kept secret, never sharing it with a single soul, not even Furu.

  His Balazoid lover sat on the porch of a small home, reclining with his fingers linked behind his head and his feet up, the heels of his perfectly polished boots resting on a wooden railing.

  Furu watched five offspring play. Males and females, of varying ages and sizes, rolled golden spheres on the green grass, each child unique and individual, their pale heads covered with the coveted verme.

  A joy lifted Xan’s heart as he approached the blue stone structure. Furu smiled, his lips moving in a welcome he felt yet couldn’t hear.

  Their offspring jostled each other, jumping to their bare feet. They rushed toward him, their round pale faces lit with delight, their arms outstretched to him.

  Xan swung one of the boys into his arms and he was engulfed by the acceptance he’d spent his entire life fighting for. In their eyes, he wasn’t a Dreck. He was their protector, their father, worthy of them and worthy of love. The boy puckered his mouth for a kiss, his red eyes clear with intelligence, and Xan lowered his head, eager to comply.

  “You promised not to eat him.” A husky female voice punctured his dream.

  I’m dreaming. Xan yanked his body away from the plant, breaking the hypnotic connection, his reality harsh and cold and jarring compared to his fantasy. A long, sharp thorn jutting below the flower retracted, the potential weapon disappearing behind green and red leaves.

  “Fuck.” Xan staggered backward, activating his trap. The sapling snapped and the vine whistled, the primitive rope yanking him feet first into the air. “Fuck,” he repeated, dangling head down, the blood rushing to his skull.

  The damn vine rustled its leaves, its blooms tilting upward, as though it laughed at him.

  Irked, Xan pulled a gun and blasted the threat, blowing holes through the plant’s core. Blood-red sap splattered and leaves flew, the destruction satisfying.

  “All you’re doing is pissing him off,” the mysterious female pointed out, her tone intriguingly light and chipper. “You can’t kill Steve. He has multiple growths above ground, and his roots run under most of the planet.”

  “Steve?” Xan gazed around him, unable to locate the speaker.

  “He seemed like a Steve to me.” A small female stepped into the clearing below him and gazed up at him, her big brown eyes dominating her thin face. “Technically, he’s asexual, not male, but with that nasty attitude of his…” She shrugged her sl
ender shoulders, her long dark hair sticking to her back, her firm curves covered with a thick layer of blue mud.

  Female. Xan inhaled deeply and gagged, the scent of decaying vegetation turning his stomach. Smelly female.

  “You’re not going to vomit, are you? A big strong male like you?” She grinned at him, displaying surprisingly straight white teeth. Her eyes sparkled, her joy transforming her dirty face.

  If she smelled better, I’d take her as our breeder.

  “How many of you are there?” Xan demanded, shaking off his disappointment over not being the first humanoid on the planet.

  “One.” The female’s smile faded. “Now.”

  “Impossible.” He snorted. “A female can’t survive alone. You’re too weak.”

  “Ahhh…you’re one of those.” Her pert little nose scrunched up.

  Xan glowered at the tiny heathen, having seen that disapproval on countless Balazoid faces. Only Furu had ever accepted him as an equal. “A Dreck?”

  “A jackass.” She kicked the vine rope, the twang causing him to bounce, and Xan gritted his teeth, bile rising in his throat. “I should have let Steve eat you.” She reached out her hand, and the damn plant smacked her palm with a broad leaf.

  “He ate one of my team members, an Ungarian entomologist,” she shared, her voice flat and emotionless, as cold as any Balazoid aristocrat’s. “There were three of us, dropped off here on Viridi for a month, our goal to catalogue plant and insect life and search for life-saving medical cures.” She circled the clearing, her bare feet soundless on the grass. “Except the ship, the USS Fitzgerald, never came back. The mercenary bastards abandoned us.” Her face drooped, her expression heart-wrenchingly forlorn.

  She’s a female, only good for breeding. Xan squashed the sympathy no Balazoid should ever feel for a replaceable female. “That leaves two of you.” What male would allow his female to roam free?

  “There’s only me…and Steve.” She glanced at the plant and her top lip curled, her face darkening. “Steve allowed a slaver to capture Denise, our leader. She shot at him too, pissed him off. He’s a bit of a brute when he’s pissed off, as you’ll soon find out.” She plucked at the rope. “Enough about me. What do you hope to capture with this?”