Alien Revelation Read online

  Onalee reached back and brought him closer for another kiss. This was not gentle or teasing. He plundered her mouth.

  When he pulled back, she saw Conall watching them with a look Onalee didn’t recognize. Was it longing? Whatever it was, he was aroused. He arched his hips up into her, and ran his hands all over her body.

  “That’s right, push that cock into her tight pussy,” Brogan encouraged. “You like it, don’t you love?” he murmured near her ear.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  “Does it feel good to have him inside you?”

  “Yes!”

  “I bet it does. Now move that body of yours on him. Show him how much you like him there.”

  Onalee planted her hands on Conall’s chest and swiveled her hips experimentally. She’d never thought of being on top of a lover, but she greatly enjoyed the position. She rocked forward and back, feeling him glide in and out of her dripping core.

  “Oh yeah, just like that,” Brogan encouraged.

  Conall let her take the lead for a few strokes, before he gripped her hips and began directing her movements.

  Brogan remained behind her, his hands running up and down her back, before he moved her hair to the side so that he could see them better. Conall’s eyes locked onto him, and it was such a turn-on to know that they were sharing the experience with her.

  “Doesn’t she feel amazing?” Brogan asked Conall. “All hot and wet squeezing around you.”

  “Aye,” Conall answered. “Touch her for me. Make her quiver and shake.”

  Brogan growled. She actually felt it run down her spine, before his hands went to her breasts and kneaded the mounds.

  “Like that?” Brogan asked Conall. “Or more like this?”

  One hand left her breast and moved down her body, settling over her mound. His fingers circled her clit, and Onalee cried out, her body locking onto Conall’s shaft.

  “Bloody hell!” Conall called out, his accent growing thicker. “Keep doin’ that!”

  Onalee could barely focus on what they were saying. They were expertly playing her body, and she felt as though she was along for the ride.

  Brogan encouraged her forward onto Conall, pinning his own hand between their bodies. His other hand ran up and down her torso, over every inch of skin he could reach, while his cock rode the crease of her ass.

  Conall’s hands guided her movements while he thrust up into her, burrowing as far as he could go.

  It wasn’t long before Onalee’s body reached her peak. She cried out to her males as her body shuddered. They rode her orgasm, and through the ringing of her ears, she heard Conall call out, felt his body tense and shudder underneath her. A few strokes later, Brogan was joining them, jetting onto her ass and back.

  She tried to shift off of Conall, but neither male let her move.

  “Stay there,” Brogan ordered, before he got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He came back with a warm washcloth and cleaned his essence off of her skin.

  Once she was clean, he kissed his way down her back. Conall rolled, encouraging her to lie on her side on the mattress. Onalee didn’t care where they wanted her. She was riding post-orgasmic bliss.

  She felt solid arms wrap around her, and snuggled into the warmth of two bodies. She was completely content as she drifted towards sleep.

  CHAPTER 20

  Conall stayed in bed long enough for Onalee and Brogan’s breathing to even out into sleep. Once he was sure he wouldn’t disturb them, he crept from the bed, slid on his clothes, and tiptoed from the room.

  His body was sated—for the first time in years—but his mind was reeling.

  He paced the central living area of his suite for a few minutes, but movement wasn’t helping. What he needed to do was talk. But with whom?

  He didn’t want to confess things to his family. Hell no. He’d just shared something special; he didn’t want someone else’s opinions to taint what he’d done with Brogan and Onalee.

  Maybe if he just talked aloud?

  An idea formed in his mind, and he b-lined it to his bedroom. The second the door closed, he called out for the home’s AI.

  “LINK, you with me?”

  “Always here, sir,” LINK replied from hidden speakers.

  Conall stopped in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. It was always weird to talk to the AI, since he didn’t have any physical form, and was technically all around him. He never knew where to look.

  “Is there a way for me to record myself speaking… like a video journal… one that only I can access?”

  “Of course. We can store any information you’d like on a secure encrypted partition.”

  “Speak English, LINK,” Conall told him with a sigh.

  “Sorry. I can save anything you’d like on a personal section of my network for your singular use. It would be apparent to any administrator that this section existed, but they’d be unable to access it.”

  Sounded good to him.

  “Okay, that’s fine. How do we get started?”

  “If you’d like audio-only, you can talk from anywhere, and I’ll record you. If you’d like video, I can initiate any of your consoles or vid screens.”

  “Alright.”

  Conall went to his bedroom’s vid screen and pulled a chair in front of it. The screen suddenly showed his reflection. He pulled the chair forward and sat uncomfortably, running his palms up and down his thighs.

  “LINK?”

  “You may begin anytime you’d like.”

  “Ahhh… do you mind stepping away while I talk?” Conall felt dumb for asking the question.

  “Of course I can,” the AI replied. A red “record” button appeared in the vid screen’s lower corner. “Whenever you’re ready, hit record to begin. Hit the same button again once you’re finished, and I’ll reactivate myself in your suite.”

  Conall breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, LINK. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  Suddenly Conall was alone—just him, and the thoughts jostling around in his mind. He sat awkwardly for a moment before he sighed and tapped the “record” button.

  “I just had sex with Onalee,” he confessed to the carpeted floor. He was still unable to meet his own eyes in the vid screen.

  “No, that’s no’ right,” he corrected himself. “I made love to Onalee. Brogan was there. With her. Only with her. Because I asked him not to touch me.” There was a long pause. “Such a stupid arse I’ve been.”

  Self-condemnation dripped from the words. Conall was mad at himself—furious even! Why had he done that? Why had he demanded that they keep any physical part of their relationship all about Onalee?

  He knew what the demand had cost Brogan, knew that the male had feelings for him, and that by holding back, he was holding back a side of himself in the process. He was Arathian… born to love males and females equally, and Conall had just forced him to deny a huge part of himself.

  “Ahhh, fucking hell!” Conall cursed aloud. “The damn problem is that I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to touch him. I caught myself several times about to reach for him, but I curbed the impulse every time. I didn’t want to—I wanted to feel him; he’s so… powerful.”

  Conall nearly shivered at the memory of Brogan holding Onalee up by her thighs. The kind of physical strength it took to do that? It was fucking hot!

  Conall glanced up at the monitor, and seeing himself was strange. He had a crazed expression. It suited him, since he felt a little crazed.

  His eyes went back to the floor, and his voice lowered without the anger of before.

  “I wanted to touch and kiss him.”

  When they’d been standing side by side while Onalee played with their cocks, Conall had forced his hands to either remain clenched at his side, or thread through Onalee’s hair.

  What he’d wanted to do was reach over, grab Brogan around the back of his neck, and pull the taller male down for a kiss. He’d wanted to run his palms over hi
s muscles, tongue his nipples, bury his face into his neck. The vivid picture he painted in his mind had him shivering, his shaft becoming hard in his pants.

  Still, the reality of the moment had been wonderful too. Onalee…

  “Onalee… was so eager, and soft, and so fucking perfect that I could barely stand it.”

  His voice softened further. “She told me she loves me. How can that be? I’m irritable, ornery, and stubborn. I come from another planet, and have no way to support her. But she loves Oliver too… that I can believe. They fit well together.”

  He smiled slightly at thinking about them the past couple of days, together on her bed—laughing at an Earther movie he’d conned her into watching, or her teaching him the latest scientific principal he was supposed to be learning. Oliver hadn’t been that close with a woman since Mary died.

  A light bulb went off in Conall’s mind as he realized that she was the reason for his internal struggle.

  “Would Mary be disappointed in me?” he asked himself aloud. “Would she want me to remarry?”

  He thought about their earlier conversation about Onalee getting pregnant.

  “Would Mary be angry if I had baby with another woman?”

  Once he said the words, Conall knew that he was off his rocker. Mary had been a wonderful woman, who loved him, and Oliver, deeply. She was taken from them far too soon, but she never would have wanted him to be alone for the rest of his life. She’d want him to be surrounded by love.

  But what if part of him being happy was him loving another man?

  Conall sighed. Mary was one of the most understanding, and accepting people he’d ever known. She didn’t have a problem with homosexuality when she’d been living, and she sure didn’t have an opinion now.

  She’d want Oliver to be part of a family, whether or not that family was unorthodox (by traditional Earth standards, anyway).

  Conall chuckled at the thought. Their family hadn’t exactly been “normal” since aliens came into their lives. What were two more added to the mix?

  “Am I actually considering this?” he asked himself aloud, finally meeting his own eyes in the vid screen. “Am I going to admit to them that I’m in love with them both?”

  The thought of shrugging off his insecurities, his doubts, and self-deprecation… it was liberating!

  Who cared that he was in love with a man? His family supported him no matter what he did, and outside of his family, no one else’s opinions mattered.

  The fact that he wanted to marry two people instead of just one? The Arathians of this world would probably wonder why he wasn’t marrying three or four people, like they were known to do.

  Now he bounded with energy.

  “I know what I have to do,” he told himself in the vid screen. He ended the video to reactivate LINK, and called to the AI as he exited his bedroom.

  “LINK, please save and archive that video.”

  “Will do, Conall.”

  He wasn’t listening. He was heading for his spare bedroom, where his future awaited him.

  *****

  Brogan heard the door open, and cracked an eye to see who entered Onalee’s room. It was Conall, with an uncharacteristic smile. Not that it was unusual for him to smile, it was just that usually his smile wasn’t this open and free.

  Conall took off his shirt as he neared the bed, but kept his pants on. What surprised Brogan was that he didn’t crawl beside Onalee, who was lying on her back, cuddled to Brogan’s body as he lay on his side, one arm thrown over her. Instead, Conall rounded the bed behind Brogan.

  Brogan waited. He felt the bed dip, then Conall was right behind him, his breath tickling the skin on the back of his neck. Brogan closed his eyes, and forced himself to continue breathing normally. Whatever Conall was doing, he didn’t want to disrupt him.

  It was a few achingly slow beats of his heart later that Conall scooted closer, until his chest was against Brogan’s back, and put his arm over Brogan’s waist. He sighed happily, and Brogan barely held himself back.

  It’d been torture to make love to Onalee and keep away from the other male. It’d killed something inside of himself that was now roaring back to life as Conall snuggled up to him. Could it be that he’d changed his mind?

  Conall’s fingers trailed over the ridges of muscle on Brogan’s stomach, first with a barely-there touch, then with more pressure. Brogan’s malehood loved the touch, and soon throbbed to be touched too, but he stayed still—unwilling to interrupt whatever Conall meant to do.

  The male slowly grew more bold. He flattened his palm on Brogan’s hip, and ran it up and down from rib to thigh. But it was the feeling of Conall’s lips gently kissing the back of his neck that caused Brogan to let out an involuntary moan.

  Conall froze, and Brogan mentally cursed himself. Would he stop? It was only a few seconds before Conall resumed his ministrations.

  Up and down his hand glided, across his neck he kissed. The caresses were rhythmic, so when Conall whispered against his skin, Brogan nearly missed it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Brogan whispered back.

  “For hurting you.”

  Brogan eased his arm from around Onalee, and gingerly rolled over so that he was facing Conall. He’d always needed to look people in the face when having important conversations, and this seemed like a time where he needed to be able to read all of Conall, not just his spoken words.

  Conall usually didn’t say much. He spoke volumes in his expression and body language, and Brogan needed the entirety of what he was “saying.”

  Once he was looking into deep blue eyes, Brogan kept his hands to himself, afraid to hope that Conall had changed his mind. Their faces were only inches apart, but it felt like a chasm.

  “Why do you think you hurt me?” Brogan whispered, taking care not to wake Onalee.

  Conall replied just as quietly. “I was selfish, scared, and didn’t know what I wanted. Before we… made love, I asked you not to touch me, and that brought you pain. I’m sorry. Even when I asked it of you, I knew it was hurting you, and yet I still said it.”

  Brogan saw sadness and regret in Conall’s expression. “It’s alright,” Brogan consoled him. “I never want to push you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

  “That’s the thing,” Conall replied with more force. “I wanted to.”

  Hope flared in Brogan’s chest, and he swallowed. “You wanted to what?” There was no way for him to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

  A small smile played at the corner of Conall’s lips. He reached up and ran his hand up into Brogan’s hair, caressing the short strands. Brogan had to force himself not to purr like a jungle cat.

  “I wanted to make love to you, Brogan.”

  Brogan shivered at the sound of his name said through Conall’s deep Scottish burr. He rolled the r around in his mouth, like an auditory caress.

  “You wanted me?” Brogan asked, just to be sure.

  “Oh, aye.” Conall’s hand glided over Brogan’s shoulder and down his torso to where the sheet rested at his hip, his eyes following the movement.

  “I’ve been imagining what it would be like to touch you like this ever since that moment in the transport.”

  His eyes locked onto Brogan’s lips, while his hand kept gently exploring. Brogan shifted his head closer on the pillow, but Conall wasn’t done.

  “That kiss we shared… I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind incessantly. It’s driven me insane.”

  “Why do you say that?” Brogan asked.

  “Because it rocked my entire understanding of my life, yet it wasn’t enough.” Conall’s voice grew softer as he, too, shifted closer. “I’m not sure if it’ll ever be enough.”

  “Want to try?”

  A single nod from Conall was all it took. Brogan closed the remaining distance between their lips, and locked them together in a kiss. It wasn’t a gentle meeting of lips, like in the transport. This kiss had fire, fueled by we
eks of need, desire, and self-refusal.

  Brogan took charge, massaging Conall’s lips with his, then licking to gain entrance. Conall’s mouth opened on a moan, and Brogan’s tongue sought his within the recesses of his mouth.

  Their bodies were soon flush with one another, Brogan’s bare chest being tickled by the hair on Conall’s. Brogan moaned, right as Conall pulled back. He raised his head to look over Brogan’s shoulder, and smiled.

  “Someone’s awake,” he commented. That’s when Brogan noticed that Onalee’s body was against his back, her left hand entwined with Conall’s on his hip.

  “Please don’t let me interrupt you,” she nearly begged. “I’ve been waiting weeks to watch you two kiss.”

  “You’ll do more than just watch,” Brogan insisted.

  Her face lit up with eagerness. “Alright; but this is about you two,” she insisted.

  Brogan reached back, and pulled her in for a kiss of gratitude. She knew what being with Conall meant to him, and he couldn’t thank her enough for understanding.

  When his lips met Conall’s once again, Conall pulled at Brogan, rolling them so that he was pressed into the mattress by the larger male’s frame. Brogan was careful, and kept most of his weight up, but Conall started rocking his body up to meet his, and the nearness of Conall’s cock was too much of a temptation to ignore.

  He broke free from Conall’s mouth and began kissing his way down the male’s body. Conall clutched at his head with one hand, neither pushing or pulling, while he locked his other hand around Onalee’s neck, and brought her to his side for a scorching kiss.

  Brogan pushed the sheets off the bed and settled his weight on his knees, between Conall’s splayed legs. He eyed the bulge in the male’s pants, and was tempted to tear the damn material from his body. He held back, though… Barely.

  “Can I?” Brogan asked him… begged him.

  “Aye,” Conall replied, and lifted his hips in invitation.

  Brogan figured out the fasteners and tugged the pants down Conall’s legs. Soon there was nothing covering him but a thin pair of shorts that outlined his cock to perfection.

  Brogan leaned forward, nuzzling the bulge with his face, causing both the male, and his shaft, to pulse.