by Reagan Woods
Because a patriarch might have sons from many females, hunts were often favored as ways to draw the males together without female influence. Lacy called the ritual ‘going on retreat.’ Bram equated retreating with military defeat and made her promise not to utter such nonsense again. She’d laughingly agreed once he’d explained his rationale.
“You shouldn’t worry I’ll offend your clients with talk of running away from their women,” she’d chortled. “I have zero desire to be outed as an alien living on your planet. You can trust me to keep far away from the guests and I promise to stay disguised when they’re in residence.”
By the ancestors, he missed his sweet female. A few more weeks of babysitting wannabes and big game enthusiasts and they’d be in the wet season. When the weather turned, the jungle would transform from inhospitable to dangerous. He would, perhaps, lead a few short daytrips, but nothing that would hold him in the wilds overnight like this.
“Let’s move out,” he growled, his low command making the five huddled males jump. “Lord Karpti, a word?”
“Of course,” the elder male, fit and sure of himself joined Bram as he did a visual sweep around the mulash ferns that clumped together to form the underbrush in this area. “I’ve seen few gesh trails here.” Lord Karpti mentioned. “Do you think they’ve moved to higher ground early this season?” He asked, a sly look crossing his narrow face.
“It would be highly unusual,” Bram refuted. He knew Karpti tried to pressure him into finding a gesh for his trophy hunt. The loud, clumsy males had ruined the hunt and Bram wasn’t extending his time away from Lacy on their account. “I have another group coming in two days to hunt boshin up the mountain. I can scout then, but that doesn’t help us now.”
They moved away from the others, continuing to peek under fern fronds for signs of their prey. The gesh was large but often blended in with the surrounding foliage and earth. Best practice for tracking one was to find wet ground and follow the tracks. Once they were within a few hundred meters, the gesh would be easier to pick out.
“My youngest son, C’rit, mentioned he saw a young female at your base camp,” Karpti murmured. “Perhaps you would be willing to trade a night with your daughter to my sons to make good on the price of our tour - since we haven’t seen a gesh yet.”
Bram let the rage come, he didn’t fight it – but he didn’t let it control him either. “She’s not part of the package,” he growled. “Best you keep your brood away from my private quarters.” Apparently, he and Lacy hadn’t been careful enough when this group arrived, or one of the entitled males had been spying. He made a mental note to up the security on their personal suite and increase the opacity on the privacy guard around their little balcony.
Now that he was back on Cuva, his instinct to survive warred with the urge to prove his dominance to these weaker males and protect his female. He’d learned to be respectful under Sesk’aa’s tutelage, and his Warrior training had polished most of his rough edges. When it came to these kinds of males, those who went out of their way to treat him as ‘less-than’ and violated the sacred space he shared with his female, he battled the urge to beat them into a bloody pulp.
“Er –,” Karpti’s spawn chose that moment to start a shoving match between them, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
“Perhaps you could reiterate the need for quiet,” Bram gritted through clenched teeth, barely able to keep his tone civil.
Karpti tilted his head, cold eyes taking Bram’s measure from head to toe. “Why would I do that?” He asked, with a glare.
Deliberately slow, Bram drew his long-bladed machete. Karpti’s hand fumbled for the blaster holstered on his waist, eyes going wide. The younger males saw their father’s panicked reaction and approached with a shouting stampede.
Bram raised a brow and used the blade to push a frond of mulash to the side. In the purple mud, there was a pristine gesh print.
“That’s not very old,” Karpti murmured, proving that he knew something of tracking as he leaned forward to get a better look. His index finger feathered over the lighter colored mud at the edge of the print. “It’s barely dry. You imbeciles need to shut your mouths,” he snapped at his children.
Grunting agreement, Bram put a finger over his lips and motioned them to spread out. They would use hand-signals from here. This gesh wouldn’t have gone far even if he were startled by these foolish males. Geshs were apex predators and this print was massive – he was the alpha beast of this jungle.
The ancestors were looking out for these fools today. If Karpti tried to push further for favors from his ‘daughter’, Bram would have to bury the lot of them out here in this jungle. There were some things he just couldn’t tolerate. Lacy wasn’t a young, vulnerable female, but Karpti didn’t know that. The wet season couldn’t come soon enough; he needed a break from the privileged masses that thronged Cuva in the busy season.
Chapter 45
Lacy scrubbed the vegetables and fruits Sesk’aa’s minions had delivered to the base camp. She stood in the sterile kitchen, bare feet leaving a wet outline from her body heat on the cool green tiles. The weather had gone from merely sticky to downright blistering during the day. At night, it remained warm at the base camp, but Bram reported that it was frigid in the mountains.
Slowly, she was becoming accustomed to the noises of the surrounding jungle. The screeches and violent conflicts outside the walls began to fade into the background leaving her with the loud, lonely thoughts in her head. She really missed Bram when he was away like this. Yet, she knew he kept her behind these walls for her safety.
Since they’d been here, random food deliveries came at least weekly. Lacy was grateful but also a little creeped out. Nothing said, ‘I know where you are’ and ‘I’m keeping tabs on you’ quite like stalkery gifts from your mother in law. It did get her to thinking, though, about what kind of business Bram must have been running on his own when Sesk’aa left him.
The kitchen was huge, presumably big enough to prepare meals for many more guests than they currently had. Either Bram’s business had been that successful or his mother’s services were that sought after. Lacy didn’t know the first thing about cooking for a large group of people, but she was game to try if that was something Bram wanted to add to the list of amenities. She would only need to make few big meals per week. Most of the guests sought big game that lived deeper in the jungle, so they only lodged at the base camp for one night on each end of the hunt. At most, she’d make breakfast for the morning they set out and dinner on the nights they came back.
She’d already taken over most of the cleaning, and she tended the gardens as best she could while staying hidden from prying eyes. The limited tutorials she could find in Bram’s digital library helped. There was probably some way for her to use the screen to learn to cook and understand the foreign appliances, too.
A wave of clammy dizziness passed over her as she rinsed the produce in preparation for tonight’s dinner. Bram was coming home, and she wanted things to be nice for him; however, these dizzy spells were happening more and more often. At first, she’d chalked it up to reacclimating to real gravity and fresh air. She wasn’t so sure that was the case, now.
Leaving the food in the kitchen, Lacy raced for the stairs to their quarters. She barely made it to the privy before she lost her lunch. “This is so not good,” she muttered, wiping her mouth and standing shakily upright.
Cold tap water splashed on her face helped quell the lingering urge to retch, but her stomach still roiled ominously. Cautiously, she made her way over to their humongous bed and laid down. She just needed a moment to calm the off-beat marching band in her stomach.
That was where Bram found her. Gentle fingers brushed the hair from her face. “We were later than I anticipated,” he murmured as she came awake to the sound of his voice and the subtle glow of light.
When he leaned over her, Lacy smiled and wound her arms around his neck. “Mmm. I must’ve fallen asleep,” she slur
red. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he said, sinking down next to her on the downy mattress.
The room was all simple luxury and softness. Pale purple tiles were liberally scattered with thick white rugs. The bed was covered in thin, velvety blankets and piled high with soft cushions and pillows. Two simple white tables flanked the bed and a pair of sinuous chairs of palest green guarded the entrance to a delightful balcony with views of Lacy’s favorite patio garden.
For a few moments, Lacy held him close, just savoring the fact he was home, and they were together in this lovely place. “Did you bag your game?”
“We did,” he answered with a snort. “It was a bloody, muddy mess but the idiot family killed a gesh.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.” She left the opening if he wanted to tell her about the hunt. Really, she wasn’t a fan of hunting for sport, but it put food, literally and figuratively, on their table. She couldn’t complain about that.
“I see my mother sent another food offering.” Bram observed, changing the subject.
Lacy levered up and pushed to her feet. “Shit! I was making dinner.”
Chuckling, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her back to the bed, dragging her on top of him. “It’s long past dinner time. It’ll keep.” Strong fingers threaded through her hair and he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.
Her eyes drifted shut as she enjoyed the intimacy, the passion that built so readily between them. She wasn’t going to argue with him about dinner. Right now, the only thing she really wanted to do was climb atop him and ride his very fine cock to an orgasm or twelve.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she griped, slipping her hands under his shirt to rake her nails lightly over his rippling abs.
The offending garment was over his head in moments and then he was rolling her beneath him and pushing her back on the bed. “I like the way you think,” he said between nips to her mouth and down her neck.
“I’m so happy you’re home,” she purred, clawing at his hard back and arching as his mouth found her aching nipples. “Now, quit messing around and fuck me.”
Her clothes joined his and he slid home in the nick of time, bringing her to a mini-orgasm immediately. “That is so it,” she moaned, thrusting her hips up to meet his pounding strokes. Demanding hands pulled her arms taut above her head as he drove her up the mattress with the power of his body.
A wicked smile lit his shadowed face as he pulled out and flipped her onto all fours. “Don’t move,” he growled with a stinging slap to her ass before thrusting back into her needy depths.
She saw the distant shine of Heza outside the open window glittering alongside Cuva’s own darker moon. Behind her, Bram powered in and out, one clever hand tormenting her clit, alternating between hard pinches and gentle swirls with his fingertips, until the satellites blurred before her eyes as she clamped down hard on his shuttling cock.
“I’m coming!” Her orgasm started deep in her womb and tightened every muscle in her body as she screamed into the dark night.
He hauled her up until her back met his chest, one muscled arm beneath her breasts supported her as she dangled above the mattress. The move changed the angle, drawing out her orgasm, and they both groaned. Two more hard thrusts and Bram’s hips began to falter. She felt the hot rush between her legs as he came, biting the tender skin between her shoulder and neck.
“So good, Lacy,” he whispered with a final, wringing thrust, as his hot release spilled down her thighs.
Chest heaving, she leaned back against him, luxuriating in the aftershocks that rippled through her body. “God, you’re good at that.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love you.”
Chapter 46
Lacy gripped the edge of the silver bowl and retched. Bram had returned from another hunt, this one far into the mountains, two days before. He wasn’t scheduled to leave again for another two days, which was good because she was definitely pregnant. Now, she just needed to find a way to tell him.
She knew how he felt about children. Honestly, she shared his reservations – not so much because of bloodlines and prejudices, more because neither of them had shining examples of what parents should be.
“Are you well?” The love of her life called from the other side of the door. He was going to be so pissed, but she really wasn’t scared of his reaction. Okay, she was. A little. One thing she knew, though, was that he wasn’t going to leave her to deal with this alone. Bram was a stand-up guy. He’d get over his past and do right by her and the baby, right? That’s what she was going with because she couldn’t entertain any other outcome.
“Dandy,” she answered crankily, slapping her palm over the door release. Bram would sit out there and fret if he couldn’t see her. It was sweet. Most of the time. Right now, it annoyed the bejesus out of her. That might be her hormones talking, though.
“Should we find a medic?” The big man moved into the little room to hunker down behind her. He was looking fine today. She’d trimmed his white hair into his preferred short-on-the-sides cut a few days ago. He radiated health and contentment. She, on the other hand, was pretending to have the flu. With her green-tinged skin and blood-shot eyes, she knew she was pulling it off, too.
“I-,” she broke off to retch again, leaning over the bowl. Sweat poured from her brow and the room spun like an off-kilter top.
One thick arm slid around her waist to support her while his other hand gently pulled her greasy hair back from her face. It was hard to resent Bram when he treated her like gold – but not impossible.
As her nausea eased, she leaned back against him, catching her breath. “I need to shower,” she told him. “Because we both know I’m going to want to eat and then bounce on your cock before the cycle starts all over again.”
That was how they’d spent the last few days, and Lacy didn’t see an end to the pattern in sight. Her emotions ping-ponged all over the place, sometimes resulting in tears while she begged him to just shut up and screw her brains out. For his part, poor Bram never complained, but she could see him wondering what he’d stumbled into.
“As lovely as that will be, we need to talk,” he said firmly.
Lacy’s stomach dropped. He’d never used that cold, in control tone on her before. “Wh-what’s wrong?”
Bram pulled her to her feet, steadying her when she spun to face him. “Let’s talk while the shower cycle runs, yes?” He invited, sounding more himself. “That way, we can get to the part where you bounce on my cock.”
At the base camp, the showers were all water-based. The water wasn’t drinkable because the cleansers and conditioners were preadded. A bonus of a water shower on this day was that it would wash away the vomit immediately if she puked again.
“Okay,” she agreed, carefully not meeting his eyes as she stripped. The stupid red dress and white paint were her go-to clothing most of the time, but she wore her white pants and a stretchy black shirt when they weren’t expecting guests. It felt heavenly to let her skin breathe without all the goop on it today.
Warm water sprinkled like rain from the nubby silver ceiling tiles. Lacy tested the temperature with her hand before stepping into the big oval basin. A low bench ran the perimeter of the shower but there were no enclosing walls.
Bram made himself comfortable on one curve of the bench and Lacy warily took the other. He looked like a perfect marble statue of a Greek god that belonged in some insanely rich person’s sculpture garden. Of course, with the way his naked body gleamed wetly under the soft lights, Lacy was ecstatic that he was flesh and bone and all hers. They needed to get this show on the road or she was going to jump his tight ass then and there.
“What’s up?” She tried to inject some peppy enthusiasm into her tone and gave him a big, vacant smile.
He frowned forbiddingly and folded his massive arms across his delectable chest. “You look demented when you do that.”
Lacy let the smile f
all and narrowed her eyes. “Whatever.” She’d already had enough of whatever game he played. If he wasn’t going to talk, she would give him something to look at. Hopefully, they could skip the heavy crap and get to the dicking he promised. Her hormones insisted that was the way to go, and who was she to argue?
She stood, stretching her arms up toward the ceiling and tilting her head back so the water cascaded over her face while giving him an excellent view of her hard-tipped nipples. Lazily, she ran her hands down her neck to wash her breasts and belly. Her hands went to her head, next, and massaged her scalp. Her long, auburn hair trailed nearly to her hips now and she used it to her advantage, turning her back to him and letting her hair fall forward over her breasts as she bent forward, legs straight, to wash her toes.
His groan was tortured, and she wasn’t surprised to feel his hands on her hips and his hard length nestled between her butt cheeks in the next instant. “We’re supposed to be talking,” he growled, thrusting into her wet pussy without warning.
It was her turn to groan. When she would have straightened, one hand went to the middle of her back and held her in place. “No,” he gritted out. “You started this, you’ll finish it.”
Her inner walls contracted at his words and they moaned together. “That was a dirty, dirty trick,” he grunted, hips slapping hard into her round ass. “You knew I couldn’t resist seeing that pretty pussy all spread open and ready for me.”
His filthy talk had her eyes rolling back in her head. She’d already been horned up when they stepped in the shower, there was no way she would last much longer. Her core tightened, and she was on the cusp of orgasm. But he stopped thrusting and pulled out. The bastard.
“Wha-what are you doing?” She whined.
He smacked her ass once. Twice. Three times. As the fiery heat blossomed across her skin and warmed her core, he plunged back inside.