Authors: The Sextet
the release.
Lon’s cock was begging for more action, and he reluctantly let go
of Sar in order to enter the refuge that was Nalira. Inside her, he felt
free, owned only by his two lovers. No one else could reach him
there, hurt him, or make him feel small. Clones were insignificant
creatures by galactic standards. They weren’t supposed to exist,
therefore, they did not, and if they did, they were somehow less than
human, or whatever species they might be. With Sar and Nalira,
however, Lon felt powerful and worthy of life, rather than an
experiment that had outlived its usefulness and been discarded.
Nalira gazed at him with eyes that seemed to understand, but was
she feeling what he was feeling? She had said she felt complete for
the very first time, but did that mean what he hoped it might? She was
a lawyer, too—could she use that knowledge to their advantage?
Unlike Sar, Lon had never had much hope that their lives could be
any different. Now, for the first time, he thought there might be a
chance. He would make this night one she would want to repeat often
in the years to come. She had to love them both and want them
enough to make it happen, though. Making her moan or telling her
how beautiful she was wouldn’t be enough. He would have to bare his
soul.
Kissing his way from Sar’s scrotum to Nalira’s soft, wet entrance,
Lon tasted her once again. He would always remember her flavor,
even if this was the only time they would ever make love. Moving on,
he trailed kisses up through the soft curls between her thighs, to her
warm stomach, and then on to her succulent breasts. When he reached
her lips, he covered her mouth with his own, kissing her deeply as he
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sheathed himself with her.
Sighing as his dick was once again enveloped in her heat, only
then did Lon realize just how cold and cruel the world outside her had
been. “Oh, God, Nalira!” The words felt as though they’d been wrung
out of him. “I never want this to end. Never, never, never…” But how
could he make her believe that? His voice trailed off as he kissed her,
threading his fingers through her hair, sucking her lips into his mouth
to caress them with his tongue. Stroking her inner walls with his cock,
he loved her in a way he had never done with anyone else except Sar.
He knew Sar was not content with their lot in life, but he had done his
best to make him feel loved. Looking past Nalira to Sar, he felt his
heart being torn in half—one half going out to Sar and the other to a
woman he barely knew.
* * * *
Sar saw the look in Lon’s eyes and knew what he was thinking.
This wasn’t unusual. As clones of the same man, they often shared
similar thoughts, but the slight differences between them made for
subtle variations in attitude. One thing he was certain of, however,
was that for Lon, this was more than just the servicing of a client. It
was an act of love, and the implications were life-altering.
Sar had often dreamed of escaping to a distant world where no
one knew they were clones. They could just as easily have been
twins—no one had to know—but Lon had been afraid to take the
plunge, and Sar could no more leave Lon behind than he could stop
breathing. A thrill passed over Sar as he considered what it might
mean. If loving this woman was what it took to make Lon
discontented enough to do something else with his life, then she was
the best thing that ever happened to them. But if she was the one who
split them apart, he would go to his grave cursing her soul.
“Yes, I love you,”
he told Lon with his eyes.
“But our hearts are
big. We can love her, too.”
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65
The message passed, and he saw relief wash over Lon’s face.
They would love one another always, but Nalira must also be loved
and must
believe
she was loved. The intensity of Lon’s thrusts
increased—not the speed or the depth, but the feeling—and Sar
picked up the rhythm, matching him, mirroring his moves as he, too,
became caught up in the need to make her understand. She was their
strength, their hope, and their salvation all rolled into one fabulous
female package.
Sar loved her as he had loved no other woman, and through her,
his bond to Lon was forged anew. He kissed every part of her that his
lips could reach, and the rest he worshipped with his hands and body.
With her head resting on his shoulder and the soft silk of her hair
draped across his chest, Sar planted his feet on the bed and worked
her tight ass with all the finesse he could muster. Grinding his hips, he elicited responses he’d never bothered to try to get from a woman.
Her soft cries and moans drove him on, and he fucked her with an
artistry that surprised even him.
Lon had her legs pushed up and was using them to brace himself.
Sweat ran down his face and chest, plastering wisps of hair to his
skin, and the smile that touched his lips was reflected in his eyes. Sar
took great joy in watching Lon fuck and knew that Nalira had to be
enjoying the view as much as he, but Sar would have given a lot to
see them all from a spectator’s position. Lon’s nuts were slick with
her juice and were slapping against his own sac, sticking together for
a brief moment before the connection was broken. It felt incredible,
but the visual would have put it over the top.
Mirrors…that’s why lovers like to have mirrors…
If Sar could have been granted a wish at that moment, he would
have asked for a wall of mirrors surrounding the bed—mirrors that
would reflect the three of them mating with each other on into
infinity.
* * * *
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Nalira hadn’t known what she was asking for when she’d wanted
to be sandwiched between the two of them, for loving both men went
beyond mere physical pleasure to reach an almost spiritual realm. No
fantasy filled her mind. She was living a dream—right here, right
now—and in it, two men were loving her, body and soul. If this was
what they did with every woman they serviced, Nalira couldn’t
imagine how they’d remained where they were—some woman would
surely have stolen them away before this, kidnapping them from the
hotel and using every means at her disposal to keep them for herself.
Which was what Nalira would do—or would at least attempt to
do—but that was in the future. The present time drew her back to
where her body was filled with hard, dripping cocks, turning her
entire being into one trembling mass of ecstasy. Somewhere in the
back of her mind, she was dimly aware that her hips ached from the
pressure Lon was putting on them, but it only made her want to
spread her legs wider, sucking him even deeper into her core. She
couldn’t detect the difference between what the two men were doing
to her. It was as though everything she felt originated with each of
them. An intense hunger filled her—a hunger that could only be sated
when they filled her with their seed. Nalira felt a moment’s panic,
thinking they might pull out too soon, for the exchange of fluids
wasn’t always allowed in such encounters. But this encounter wasn’t
typical—at least, she hoped it wasn’t—and it was critical to the
fulfillment of her dream.
“Don’t leave me hanging,” she pleaded. “I want you to fill me
with your cream—both of you.”
Lon’s expression went from blissful to joyous in a heartbeat,
while Sar growled his approval in her ear. The depth of their strokes
became prolonged, and they both let go, giving in to the need to
climax.
“You can feel each other, can’t you?”
Lon nodded. “I can feel you holding me and him sliding past me.”
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Sighing deeply, his head fell forward. “I wish you could feel it, too.”
“I can, but it’s different. I—”
Nalira’s next words were trapped in her throat as she became
aware of something blossoming inside her, something alive and
pulsating that was being squeezed between the two cocks and
stimulated from both sides. Floodwaters began to rise, drowning her
in ecstasy, pulling her under until she touched bottom and the whole
world exploded.
As if they’d been waiting for a signal, Nalira felt both cocks drive
in to the hilt, their balls tight against her body as semen pumped into
her with a force she could actually feel. Lon’s body arched backward
as he let out a jubilant cry, but Sar made no sound at all. For a
moment, he seemed to relax completely, but when he hooked an arm
behind her head to pull her in for a poignant kiss, Nalira saw tears
shimmering in his eyes.
Like most people who’d had dealings with Sarlon, Nalira had
despised the old man, but these two were nothing like him at all.
Nothing. How could they possibly be his clones? The thought of sex
with a man like Sarlon was abhorrent, and if he had ever shed a tear,
no one else had ever seen it. And he had surely never, ever, kissed
anyone with such tenderness.
Then again, these two were probably excellent actors—they’d
have to be to do what they did with anyone who requested them.
But she
hadn’t
requested them—not for sex, anyway. She’d
ordered dinner and a massage, not a threesome. She could have
stopped them at any moment and sent them scurrying out of her room.
The truth was, she had encouraged their attentions, and it had been the
most welcome distraction of her life. The huge divorce settlement
between a megastar singer and her billionaire husband that she’d been
working on had drained her dry. They were like two children fighting
over their toys. It made her sick to listen to them. And then Harku had
topped it all off by ditching Nalira for that little harlot.
Was this her reaction to all of that? Was she getting her revenge
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on Harku and all the billionaires like Sarlon and her client? It took her a moment to remember. She hadn’t seduced the two men she was
currently sandwiched between, had she? Not consciously, perhaps,
but she’d allowed it, and she should have known what they were
doing the moment she felt Lon unbuttoning her blouse. No, she
decided finally, she’d never expected what she got, nor had she
sought it.
But now that she’d had a taste, leaving these two behind was
unthinkable. They might have been clones, but she wasn’t a lawyer
for nothing. If she couldn’t at least get them out of their current
situation, she might as well give up her practice altogether. No one
had ever acknowledged that clones existed, but now that she knew
they did, there had to be more of them.
Sar and Lon were too perfect for pure dumb luck to have
produced them. Someone, somewhere was cloning humans, and that
someone was very good at it. Should she try to find that person, seize
the records, and expose what was going on? Or should she
concentrate on proving that clones did exist and were people in their
own right, not just copies of an original? Sar and Lon were living
proof of that, and even though they weren’t exact copies of him,
enough markers would match up to prove they were at least related to
Sarlon. Either way, it would get them out of servitude at the hotel.
Which was a very strange thing for Sarlon to have done anyway.
Why put them in a public place where anyone might discover what
they were, or, as in Nalira’s case, be told directly? Did the old man
want someone to find them, prove who they were, and then…what?
Did he want them to inherit his fortune? Nalira knew from the
buzz in the legal world that Sarlon had never married, had produced
no offspring, and had died without ever writing a will. Was this his
way of ensuring that he would leave someone behind to carry on with
his business empire? Nalira had made the assumption that the clones
had been created for spare parts. But what if only one of them was
intended for that purpose while the other had actually been his heir?
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Obviously, Sarlon hadn’t thought he would ever die, but through the
two clones, perhaps he did live on…
It went against the grain for Nalira to be tricked into doing
Sarlon’s dirty work for him, which was probably why they’d been
modified. If they’d been exact duplicates of the original, she wouldn’t
have lifted a finger to help them. They weren’t even perfectly
identical to one another, for one was content, the other restless. Which
would mean that Sar was the heir apparent, while Lon was the spare.
One would seek power while the other rejected it. The subtlety of
the plan was astounding, and once again, Nalira marveled at the
technical expertise that had created them. Genius, in fact. All she
would have to do would be to find that genius, but judging from the
apparent age of her two lovers, the trail was at least twenty-five years
old.
Still, if Sarlon had wanted them to inherit his empire, he should