He kissed Matt. At the same instant, Masok slid inside him, and craving swamped Matt again, erasing momentary doubt.

  Masok’s lovemaking was slow, but no less exciting than Kom had been. He shifted and ground in slow circles against Matt’s ass, learning where pressure felt best. Each thrust sent ecstasy dashing up Matt’s spine. Masok kissed and gently bit his legs as he delivered long, sure strokes and caressed his balls.

  Avir held Matt in the secure circle of his arm. The intermittent strokes followed by his uncompromising grip at the base of his cock kept him at the verge of release while thwarting it. His kisses were hot and demanding, leaving Matt gasping.

  “I have to come,” he whimpered as desire turned aching.

  “Soon.” Avir nipped his earlobe. Even the sting heightened need.

  “Will you let me when you fuck me?”

  Cat-slitted pupils grew so the Dramok’s eyes appeared black, but for tiny crescents of purple on the edges. His spicy arousal scent intensified. “I’d love for you to come while I’m inside you.”

  Matt resolved to hold on, though the need to climax escalated by the second. Especially when Kom crawled close and licked the crown of Matt’s cock. If not for Avir clenching tight, he would have lost control at the lingering lap of the Nobek’s rough tongue.

  As his desperate cries heightened, Masok rocked against him quicker, grinding deliciously. Avir kissed him with devouring hunger, which intensified Matt’s passion. He was loved thoroughly, and he reeled at the incredible sensations he’d only imagined existed.

  Masok slammed in his ass and groaned. Wetness escaped to warm Matt’s buttocks as the Imdiko released, his and Kom’s earlier lust overflowing. Matt shuddered with restrained yearning, held at bay by Avir’s iron clasp.

  It was Masok’s turn to splay on the floor, bliss softening his handsome features.

  Kom took Avir’s place, clutching the base of Matt’s cock as the Dramok moved in position. He pressed into Matt, uttering a grateful sigh while Kom kissed what his large hand didn’t cover.

  Matt grasped the Nobek’s shoulder and the back of the lounger as Avir pumped, feeding his primary deep, his thick girth rubbing ferocious pressure to Matt’s cumspot. His legs, propped against Avir’s chest and shoulders, kicked as the need to climax doubled. He no longer cared about waiting for his lover to reach ecstasy. He wanted to come immediately, and his palm slammed Kom’s shoulder repeatedly.

  “Now!” he shouted. “Now!”

  “Soon,” Avir groaned. His groin slapped an enthusiastic tattoo against Matt’s ass. “Fuck, this feels good.”

  “You wouldn’t think we’d already gotten off today.” Masok’s chuckle drifted at the edge of Matt’s consciousness. “Hell, I might be up for another round before long.”

  “No ‘might’ about it where I’m concerned,” Kom paused long enough to growl. “Beautiful man isn’t going to walk straight for a week when I’m done.”

  “Now,” Matt moaned. “Please, now.”

  “Almost.” Avir gasped between each rapid-fire thrust. “Definitely doing this again, slower. Can’t hold off this time.”

  Still gripping, licking, and kissing, Kom caressed Matt’s balls. Matt screeched in agonized need. “Now, damn it, now!”

  “Hearing you beg makes me hot,” Kom snarled through a vicious grin. “We’re so far from done, even after you come.”

  “Ah. Okay. Okay. Let him, Kom, Oh!” Avir’s face squeezed tight in effort as his head fell back.

  Kom released his clasp as his mouth sheathed Matt to the base. The world went white. Rapture blasted the length of Matt’s cock as he came and came and came, the strength of the wracking spasms bowing his back.

  When it was over, he was limp. He was gutted in a wonderful way, all tension erased, every muscle lax.

  Avir eased out of him, looking similarly relaxed. “Look at the cum leaking from our pretty man. It’s a beautiful sight.”

  “I say we give him more.” Kom was on his feet and leaning to pick Matt up. “Sleeping room next.”

  Incapable of the strength or desire to resist, Matt made no protest as he was carried down the hall.

  * * * *

  The first thing Matt noted when he woke in the morning was how new he felt.

  New. As if he’d just been born. Lying in bed under the covers, curled in the haven of muscled arms and legs, it was as if the world had just come to life. He had the sense they had passed out of pre-creation chaos and darkness to spark to color of the dawn.

  He was truly alive, and it was wonderful.

  It was only then he realized what had happened the day before. He’d made love with three men, and he hadn’t imagined the shadow of the monster watching, readying to strike. Not once had he asked them to stop for fear the malevolent ghost of his father could attack and destroy them. It had been him, Kom, Avir, and Masok only, and none of his nightmares had been present.

  I’m free.

  He opened his eyes to find Kom lying beside him, gazing at him. It was the careful, noncommittal regard the Nobek used when he waited to see if Matt was okay or if there was a storm to guide him through. It was his look of endless patience, ready to spring to the rescue and snatch Matt from the demons of the past.

  Matt denied none of the love filling his heart, but let it blaze forth in a smile that stretched his lips and made his cheeks ache. Kom’s eyes widened, then he chuckled, his craggy features leant beauty as he answered Matt’s joy with his own.

  Avir and Masok, on the other side of Matt, stirred. By the time they were awake enough to act, Kom had rolled on top of Matt after using the wetness from his cocks to lubricate the Earther’s. The Nobek rode him, enclosing him in the most luscious of embraces while the other two kissed him and whispered loving words. Again, they ushered him to ecstasy. Again, he spared no thought for what had haunted him during the last decade.

  * * * *

  Subject: Matthew Larsen

  Session 4 Transcript

  Presiding Therapist: Dr. Retel, psychiatrist; also present, Dr. T. J. Sanderson, psychologist and Earther trauma liaison

  Dr: Retel: I’d like to consider where the issues you’ve faced started, Matt. When do you think your relationship with your father went wrong, or was there always a problem?

  Matthew Larsen: I don’t remember a day when he didn’t demand I do better. One day, I was sitting at the kitchen table next to him. He’d brought home a book of the alphabet so I’d learn my letters, which I was having trouble with at school. He was angry because instead of repeating ‘A-B-C’ and so on, I’d list the pictures that went with them. Apple, bat, cat, dog, um, elephant, I think?

  Dr. R: You did eventually learn the alphabet and how to read and write, however.

  ML: There was a song my mother taught me where you’d sing it. You know it. (Matthew laughs and indicates Dr. Sanderson’s smile of recognition, proceeds to sing the song.)

  Dr. R: You have a wonderful voice, Matt. Speaking of your mother…you indicated she died when you were seven.

  ML: She was pregnant, and it was too much for her. They’d warned her when my twin and I were born she shouldn’t have more children. She and the baby died.

  Dr. R: What a difficult loss for you to have gone through. When she was alive, what was her role? How did she respond when your father was angry because you weren’t learning quickly?

  ML: She’d hug me later and tell me he was so tough because he wanted me to succeed.

  Dr. Sanderson: She offered you no support in his presence?

  ML: Sometimes she’d tell him I was doing my best. She mostly slept, though. She almost never felt well. When she did, she was still very weak.

  Dr. R: What was his response when she said you were doing your best?

  ML: He told her I had to wake up and work harder. The world only cared I do well, not that I tried to do well.

  Dr. S: If I may, Dr. Retel. Matt, how did your father treat your mother?

  ML: He could be rude. He snapped at her when he answered her questions. But he spoke the same way to everyone, so I don’t think he meant it to hurt her. I think it was just how he talked, without noticing. He loved her.

  Dr. R: You’re sure of it despite how he spoke to her?

  ML: If she was sick in bed, he constantly checked on her and asked what she needed, so he could get it for her. If he was busy, he told me to wait on her. Sometimes, instead of yelling at me for drifting off when I should have been paying attention, he’d say, “She’s so worried over you. If you work hard and learn, she’ll feel better. Don’t you want her better? Help me make her happy.” And he never let my uncle talk ugly to her or around her.

  Dr. R: Your uncle? What was his name?

  ML: Valter Larsen.

  Dr. R: Was he around much?

  ML: More after Mama died.

  Dr. R: Did he have a habit of ‘talking ugly,’ as you put it?

  ML: Kind of. He bragged about those he’d taken into custody and how he forced them to confess.

  Dr. R: He was in law enforcement?

  ML: (unintelligible)

  Dr. R: I’m sorry, I missed what you said.

  (Matthew doesn’t respond)

  Dr. S: He said the UCB. It stood for Upright Citizens Brigade, a faction of private citizens in the Midwest section of North America. They were also known as the Morality Police. They searched for those who engaged in same-sex encounters, tortured them for confessions and names of other homosexuals, then turned them over to authorities to stand trial.

  Dr. R: And your uncle…

  ML: I don’t want to talk about him.

  Dr. R: All right. How did your mother seem to view your father?

  ML: She was proud of him. I think maybe she idolized him. He was promoted at work once, and she got out of bed, though she had a fever. She spent the whole day cooking a special dinner to celebrate. It was the only time I saw him cry, when he came home and saw what she’d done.

  Dr. R: What happened when she died? He didn’t cry then?

  ML: No. That’s when he really became angry. That’s when he began to turn into the monster.

  * * * *

  Matt stared at the professional-grade recording suite newly installed in his music room. He barely dared to breathe, as if doing so would make it disappear.

  It was far advanced of what he’d learned on during his short enrollment in college, but the configuration was familiar. For what he couldn’t figure out on his own, there was a vid tutorial he could reference, including demonstrations he’d follow better than any written instruction. What he’d forgotten, he could review with a spoken command.

  His songs, and the twaddles that would eventually become songs, would be recorded like a real musician’s, thanks to the setup. He might be able to render the tunes as they sounded in his head. With it, the Martin, and the other instruments, he could produce actual music instead of demos patched together through an app.

  He was aware the clan watched him, waiting for his reaction. He beamed at them, ignoring the flutter in his stomach insisting they’d done too much for him. It reminded him he was undeserving of such a gift.

  “Even if I suck as a musician myself, I can offer studio services to others who don’t. Thank you for this. I’m really excited.”

  “You’re welcome, and you won’t suck,” Avir said. He held open his arms, and Matt moved quickly into his embrace. “I hope you get a lot of enjoyment from it.”

  “I will. I know I will.” Matt hugged him fiercely, then Kom and Masok. The full impact of elation hit him, and he squealed, “I hardly know where to start!”

  They laughed at his enthusiasm, then Masok pouted. “Do we have to go to this meeting, Avir? I’m dying to watch him have fun.”

  “Me too, but the Skadra contract has turned into a noose, and we’ll be hung out to dry if we don’t force them to negotiate immediately.” Avir was in danger of pouting himself as he gazed at the recording suite. “I’ll keep reminding myself I wouldn’t know what you’re doing anyway. I appreciate music, but its production is nowhere in my skill set.”

  “I won’t be recording anything interesting except experiments as I learn the system.” Actually, Matt was hoping he’d remember and pick up enough basic recording techniques to lay down a couple of tracks of the song he’d lately concentrated on.

  Kom scowled. He was due to leave soon as well. “You’ll be okay on your own? I can ask to reschedule this interview.”

  “You said it would only take an hour. I spend longer goofing off in here without you guys…or at least, I used to.” Since they’d started having sex in its many enthralling variations, Matt had spent little time alone.

  Grins erupted around him. “We’d better let him take advantage of this brief chance while he can.” Avir smirked and rubbed Matt’s ass. “The recording board might end up gathering dust as little as he’ll use it until we go back to our regular work schedule.”

  Kom sobered. “Are you sure, Matt? I don’t have to—”

  “Go. Find something worthwhile to keep you from going stir crazy.” He hugged the big, scarred lug with the mushy heart. “I’m in a good place.”

  There were kisses and demands he com them if he needed anything at all. He reassured them and saw them to the door.

  He stood in the greeting room for a few seconds after they’d left. He felt their warmth and caring after they’d gone, wrapping around him like a blanket on a chilly night. He couldn’t understand how he’d gotten so lucky. He basked in it, a smile sitting comfortably on his lips.

  “I love you guys,” he whispered to the closed door. Maybe it was a bit soon to feel so intensely for Avir and Masok, but the sentiment seemed real.

  His heart full, he went to his suite.

  The recording setup had more bells and whistles than Matt had dealt with in the past, but it was also far more intuitive than his classroom studio’s version had been. He was able to grasp most of the basics fairly quickly and had already laid down a couple of tracks to his new song in less than an hour. He was giddy despite the mistakes he heard on the playback. Even full of errors, everything sounded amazing.

  He was exploring a riff on the Martin he thought might work better than what he’d previously written, when his com went off. He emerged from his fog and set the guitar down carefully. He grabbed the com off the recording deck and eyed the unfamiliar frequency displayed.

  “Hello?”

  “Matt? Is that you?”

  His stomach plunged. No. “How did you get this frequency?” A stupid question. Valter was the human equivalent of a Nobek in his ability to track people down. It had served him well on Earth. Besides, Matt hadn’t done anything to hide his presence on Kalquor.

  “It’s good to hear your voice too, boy.” Rough amusement thinly veiled disgust. “I wasn’t surprised to learn you ended up on that abomination of a planet. You dived deep in the sickness, didn’t you?”

  “I have nothing to say to you, Valter.”

  “Well, I have plenty to say to you. Your father…you remember, the man who raised you, who did his damnedest to put you on the right path despite your vile insistence on sin? He’s in a bad way. Real bad. You need to bring your ass to Mercy. It might already be too late. If they can clone some bone marrow off you—”

  Matt clicked the com off. He stared at it.

  They’d found him.

  It went off again, the same frequency. He stared at it in his hand. “Dismiss incoming com.” The buzzing ceased. Two seconds later, it buzzed once more.

  “Dismiss incoming com.”

  Another call.

  “Dismiss incoming com and block the frequency.”

  Silence. Matt stood very still, listening to his pulse roar in his ears, his mind frozen.

  They can’t get to me. They can’t. They won’t dare come to Kalquor.

  His com buzzed. A different but unfamiliar frequency. He knew it was Valter. Or the monster. Hunting him, eager to make him pay for his depravity, as they’d promised they would.

  Matt threw the com on the floor and stomped it. The buzzing stopped, but he kept smashing his sneaker-clad foot on it until it was in pieces.

  It didn’t matter. They were coming for him. For Avir. For Masok. For Kom.

  They were coming as they had before, but this time, they’d finish the job.

  Chapter Eight

  Ten years prior

  Matt woke without opening his eyes. His interior clock told him it was still early. Saturday morning. No classes. He loved his classes, loved experiencing something of the music world openly, but sleeping in, his sheets soft and warm, Lucas spooning him…having the day off was sheer heaven.

  In another room in the apartment, the cat Lucas had rescued from a dumpster mewed questioningly. Soft thuds sounded as she began her morning play. She started as she always did by enthusiastically scratching her post. Matt hoped she wouldn’t soon spring on them and demand breakfast. He was so comfortable. So happy.