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How do you prefer your courtesan? Covered in custard? Festooned with fruit? Slathered in savory sauces?
   A tasty dilemma for Andromedan brothers Kamal and Kaliq. Arriving on Venus in time for the auction of courtesan Eden Solange, the men realize they must pool their resources if they expect to win her.
   At a very young age, Eden Solange decided to become the consummate courtesan. Not only will her skills exceed any other courtesan's, but her
will be the highest in all of Venusian history. No one—especially not her rival Azura Devine—will best her.
   When Eden meets Kaliq and Kamal her plans go awry. Their slightest touch short-circuits her common sense and ignites instant lust in them all. The auction ends with Kaliq and Kamal successful. They all retire to her rooms where they indulge in an orgy of the senses—all involving food and the wildest sex any of them has ever imagined.
   Will Eden give up her dreams and find happiness with these magnificent lovers? Can Kamal and Kaliq convince her they are her soul mates?
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Their Consummate Courtesan Copyright © 2011 Dee Brice
ISBN: 978-1-55487-792-8
Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

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Their Consummate Courtesan Sensual Seasonings


Dee Brice


Venus, 2505

Tante, owner and headmistress of Rising Moons Academy for Sensual Pleasures, looked around her elegant dining room and sighed her pleasure. Her students were not only the loveliest and handsomest, they were—or soon would be—the most skillful courtesans and gigolos Venus had ever known. She had highest hopes for Azura Devine, a dainty, bosomy Sednan whose pale blue hair, eyes and skin always drew attention when Tante took her about. Not that she
the eighteen-year-old courtesan-in-training. While other schools marketed their students at eighteen or even younger, Tante held firm that her students reach twenty or twenty-one before they took their first lover. Her academy had a reputation to maintain and she took pride in her students' skills that went far beyond sensual pleasure.
   If only other female students showed Azura's promise. Tante would gladly put them in competition with each other and reap the profits. Sighing, Tante turned her attention to Eden Solange as her cousins-in-training urged the sixteen-year-old to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.
   ―Tell us what you wished for,‖ Azura called out, drawing every eye to her—a deliberate maneuver to take attention from Eden.
   Tante often wished she could wean Azura from that habit. It lessened the girl's value.
   Colette, Eden's best friend, scolded, ―You know telling means the wish won't come true.‖
Tante thought,
is why Azura demanded to
For some reason Azura despised Eden and often made her the brunt of cruel words or pranks.
   ―I'm not superstitious,‖ Eden announced in her melodious contralto.
   Tante often thought men would pay a small fortune just to listen to Eden. If only…
   Eden went on. ―I intend to become the most legendary courtesan Venus has ever known.‖
   ―More legendary than the Goddess?‖ Azura asked, her sweet tone belying the venom in her pale blue eyes.
   ―Not so fabulous as the Goddess,‖ Eden avowed, ―but second only to her.‖
   ―Just how will you attain that goal, child?‖ Tante said. As head of Rising Moons, she and she alone would determine the
prix de virginité for
her students.
   Eden bowed her head as if acknowledging Tante's sovereignty. Then, raising her almondshaped, gold-brown eyes, she said, ―With your support, Tante, I shall design the most beautiful clothes, play the most soothing music… And I shall study very hard.‖
   Since every student must agree to hard study, Tante suspected Eden had something more in mind. She also sensed the girl's reluctance to detail her plans to her potential competition. Wise and clever—surprising in one so young. Especially someone so lacking in physical graces. Most girls Eden's age had begun to show their feminine features. But Eden's menses were still irregular and her figure remained straight as a stick.
   ―Who wants cake?‖ Tante said, her voice encouraging all her students—even those like Azura who constantly worried about their figures—to eat. Today was a special day after all and the cake—prepared by Eden herself—was a confection of Jovian chocolate and custard Tante's cook had proclaimed orgasmic. Diets were meant to crumble to this temptation.
   ―You must at least taste the cake,‖ she said to Azura who was sidling to the end of the line. An attempt to escape the festivities or a prayer the cake would be gone before she reached it? Tante neither knew nor cared. Well…she did care. No one in her academy would suffer eating disorders like so many of those silly Earthlings suffered. None of her pupils ever lacked for lovers—even those considered too…Rubenesque by Azura and her ilk.
   Eden strode to Tante's side and offered her a perfectly sized slice of cake. Tante noticed the graceful shape of the girl's hands, the slender fingers and the form of her nails. A man might not immediately notice those hands, Tante admitted, but once they touched him, he would remember them. Always.
   Meeting Eden's calm gaze, Tante smiled. The girl was a child, true. But she would soon become a woman. With Tante's help, she could become her name…for
   And, Tante admitted, a competition no longer seems impossible.

Chapter One

Venus, 2512

―Where is she? Where is my Azura Devine?‖
   Eden Solange glanced up at two very tall, nicely built men. The one now leaning over her bar as if he might find Azura hiding beneath it, she wanted to clobber. The other one had hold of the first man's belt, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.
   ―I'm sorry,
, the lounge is closed until seven this evening.‖ She continued polishing glasses, hoping the two would take the hint and leave. ―For a private party,‖ she added when both men propped their elbows on the bar and grinned at her. Avoiding their eyes, she took in wide shoulders and chests covered by some barelythere vests and well-muscled biceps and forearms. She could imagine snuggling against those chests, being held by those muscular arms.
   The second man spoke for the first time, his voice a seductive baritone she could listen to for the rest of her life. ―We're here, Miss Solange, for the auction. Came all the way from Sedna.‖
   They didn't look like native Sednans. But the fact they knew her name validated them as Tante's guests.
   ―Which, Miss Solange, is a roundabout way of begging for something to drink. Maybe some Martian ale?‖
   Eden sighed. Some days she wished she could forget her training and throw courtesy in the garbage scow. Today, unfortunately, was a day she couldn't be rude. In fact, today was the first of seven days she'd have to exhibit only her best manners.
   ―I'll have to charge you,‖ she said with an apologetic shrug.
   ―Hell, honey, we don't expect anything else,‖ the first man drawled. ―Exorbitant docking fees for our spaceship. Fees—and a hefty tip—for a ride here in one of those flying rickshaws.‖
   Eden couldn't help smiling. ―Most visitors consider our
major entertainment.‖ She set two mugs of ale on the bar, expecting the men would demand she flash-chill them. Surprising her, each took a healthy swig and then sighed appreciatively. Fascinated by their powerful necks, she watched their Adam's apples bob as they took another healthy swallow.
   Recovering her senses, she asked, ―Have you checked in yet? I need your suite numbers…to charge you for the ale,‖ she hastily added when they shot her speculative, hopeful glances. ―If you
don't have a suite number, I'll need your names.‖
―Kaliqkamal,‖ they said together.
   Laughing, Eden said, ―You'll have to spell that for me.‖
   The first man pointed a thumb at his chest. ―I'm Kaliq.‖
   ―And I'm Kamal.‖
   They held out their hands. Courtesy demanded she shake those bronzed, long fingered appendages. Extending her hands, she took theirs, startled when sensual awareness shot up her arms, through her breasts and settled in her pussy. Every nerve end tingled.
   Kaliq looked as surprised as she felt. Kamal smiled as if he'd known it would be like this among them. They stroked her palms, sending waves of longing through her veins. Then each examined her fingers and nail beds.
   ―I wager you give excellent massages, Miss Eden,‖ Kamal said, his gaze on her face.
   Kaliq stroked her fingers
then curled them inward. Imagining his cock in her hand, she gasped. The sensation of actually holding him felt so real she jerked away.
   ―N-no surnames?‖
   ―No surnames,‖ Kamal said.
   Two twenty-credit chips appeared on the bar. Eden sighed, relieved to have an excuse to move away. ―I'll get your change. Not even Rising Moons charges twenty credits for ale.‖
   She turned quickly, avoiding their offers to keep the balance for herself. Her virginity would go on the auction block within a week. Until then, she wasn't for sale.
   When she turned back, she saw them strolling toward the exit. Chewing her lower lip, Eden admired the view. Those wide shoulders she'd noticed earlier tapered to narrow waists, slender hips and flexing buttocks.
Sweet Goddess, are they
wearing anything beneath those chaps?
She clenched her fists and fought the too real sensation of digging her fingers into those tantalizing butt muscles. Distracting herself, she forced her gaze lower, taking in powerful thighs and calves. Their being tall made her sigh gratefully. When they mated, she wouldn't feel so terribly outsized.
   Then she remembered that Kaliq wanted Azura. Dainty, delicate, blue-haired, blue-eyed and blue–skinned Azura. Would he pursue Eden's rival? Or would that powerful connection she'd felt—they all had felt—bring both men to her?
   She viciously smothered conjecture. The men would do as they pleased. And yet Eden sent a silent prayer to the Goddess.
Please, Venus, sweet
Goddess. If they do not choose me, don't let them choose
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