Royal: A Sci-Fi Romance (The Jekh Saga Book 5)

by H. E. Trent

  Luke chuckled into his mouth. “So much of you to play with. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I fucked you there, would you?”

  Duke rolled his hips and groaned. Not so patient anymore. Not so submissive.

  Luke blamed himself.

  He’d gotten sloppy because tormenting Duke was a pleasure, but he had ways of fixing that. He removed the hand he’d put between their bodies and wound the fingers through Duke’s hair.

  He grabbed it hard and tugged, and Duke’s body stilled and quieted beneath him, except for his ragged breaths. Except for the quivering of his lower lip against Luke’s chin.

  So Luke kissed him because Duke deserved a reward and Luke wasn’t the kind of Dom who’d withhold them. He worked their dicks together seeking his release and Duke’s, because neither of them was going to last, and that was expected. They were having a tryst. They shouldn’t have expected marathon endurance.

  When the fire burned through his core and tightened in his loins, he didn’t try to hold it back. He gentled his tongue against Duke’s and tried not to swallow his when Duke gasped. Slick, hot lubrication shot between the two of them again, and growling, Luke thrust again, and again, spreading his seed against Duke’s belly and cock, making his strokes lightning-fast before his rigid cock lost its stamina.

  Duke shouted wordlessly into his mouth, and arched upward. More hot liquid surged between them.

  Someone gasped. Whether it was Luke or Duke, Luke didn’t know. He only knew that he was shaking from exertion, his shudders perfectly timed to the other man’s.

  Luke let go of the other man’s hair and tenderly massaged his scalp. Into his ear, he whispered in between light kisses, “It’s okay. You did good. It’s okay to feel good, even with me.” He released Duke’s wrists just to see what he would do.

  Duke kept them exactly in place, so Luke rewarded him with another kiss.

  And for a while, they lay in silence, Luke on top of him between his legs, smoothing his hand down his body as though he were an exotic pet. Duke struggling to regulate his breathing. His thighs quivering violently against Luke’s sides.

  “Let your legs down so you can relax,” Luke whispered.

  Duke did, with a relieved sigh. He didn’t know what to do. It was obvious that he just didn’t know what to fucking do, and that was okay. Luke would help him figure it out. He’d show him not to fight what came naturally—not run from what his heart and his body were telling him he needed.

  Luke bussed his cheek, and then his chin. He planted one tender kiss on his lips before pushing up onto hands and knees.

  Duke moaned as air danced between them, cooling the heat on their bodies and reminding them of the presence of their natural lubricant. But Luke couldn’t help but take a moment to look. He loved the way Duke’s belly glistened with their combined ejaculate, and how his softening dick jerked under Luke’s gaze.

  Chuckling, Luke kissed down Duke’s chest and belly, unphased by the mess there. He passed his lips over Duke’s cock head, down his shaft, and onto his balls. At Duke’s sigh, and the greedy bastard’s spreading of his legs, Luke kissed lower. He pressed his lips against Duke’s taint and scrubbed the coarse hair of his soul patch against it.

  Duke’s hips bucked, and when they did, Luke flicked his tongue over Duke’s tight hole.

  Then, laughing, he crawled off the bed as Duke jolted upright.

  “You—”

  “Don’t be greedy, Alex.” Luke padded into the bathroom in search of something to clean them up with.

  “You can’t just…just put your tongue on things and then walk away.”

  “Yes, I can.” Luke found a washcloth and a towel. The towel, he draped over his shoulder. The washcloth, he used to clean his chest and belly and to cleanse the stickiness from his cock. “Maybe next time, you’ll know what to ask me for.”

  “Is…that something that’s done? Between men, I mean.”

  “Hell, why not?” Luke returned to the bed and gave Duke’s body a similar cleansing treatment. “If you can do it to a woman, why not with a man?”

  Duke seemed to be pondering that, sitting very still as Luke tidied him up.

  “There’s nothing too taboo for you to ask me to do,” Luke told him, all joking aside.

  Duke swallowed. “I don’t even know what to ask for.”

  “You’ll know.” Luke kissed him again and dried him off with the towel. “You’ll know when you’re in the thick of things and you feel like your body is asking for something else. That’s when you put aside convention and ask for your cravings to be fulfilled.”

  “And you’ll do that for me?”

  “I shouldn’t.” But he would because he was growing weary of denying Duke anything.

  Duke nodded.

  Luke laid him down and tossed the cloth and towel into the hamper.

  He shouldn’t have been doing anything at all with Duke, but love was a funny thing. It didn’t care about who a person should or shouldn’t have had.

  Only who they needed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Autumn was up and dressed early the next morning. She sat on the bench on the lodge porch sipping some sort of juice she didn’t catch the name of while Cree people-watched at the railing. She wasn’t entirely sure how her day was supposed to shake out, but she couldn’t sit around being idle. She needed to get things done. The ground had been broken on the apartment block she was developing a quarter-mile from the center of town and the suppliers had started bringing in materials.

  That was a pretty hands-off project, though. She had a trustworthy contractor smoothing out the details for that. The construction project had been approved only because of the critical need for housing in Little Gitano, and she knew that. It wasn’t going to be profitable for several years, but she’d known that when she put in the bid. Not everything she did was about money. Of course, she hoped to make some—she couldn’t stay in the business without reliable income—but some things she did only because she feared someone else would get in first and do the job worse.

  She did need to concentrate some on where the real money was, though—tourism. Her golf resort idea had bloomed and swelled in her mind overnight and pervaded her dreams. That was her clue that she couldn’t back away from the scheme without feeling like she’d run from an opportunity.

  There were smaller projects she could do first—accommodations to cater to the surge of Terran woman on Jekh. Little boutique hotels where they could acclimate comfortably while getting to know their new partners and have trained locals acquaint them with the local customs.

  She wished she had that for herself and was feeling a lot like she’d been tossed naked into a crowded room and told that her clothes were in there somewhere. Like her mother, she was damned good at pretending to be calm and collected in a hostile environment, and she refused to let anyone see her sweat.

  “The people here are so nice.” Cree dangled her long legs over the railing and waved at a young Jekhan woman who walked past with a child.

  The woman stopped and turned to face Cree. “Who are you?”

  “Cree. Just got in yesterday. Visitin’.”

  “Visiting whom?”

  Oh boy.

  Autumn pinched the bridge of her nose. Cree was going to say too much and get them both in trouble, but there was no easy way to stop her. Not without looking like an idiot, anyway.

  Cree crooked her thumb over her shoulder toward her sister. “My sister got matched with Luke Cipriani through the website.”

  The woman’s dark eyes widened with recognition, and she nodded. “Ah. We were all wondering.”

  “Wondering what?”

  “If he was ever going to look. He’s had many offers.”

  That revelation made Autumn sit up a bit straighter and start actively listening.

  “Why didn’t he like them?” Cree asked.

  Autumn kept her mouth shut. Perhaps the question wasn’t an especially tact one, but Autumn wanted to know
the answer to it just the same. Who better to ask what sort of person her supposed betrothed was than the locals?

  “I believe he is simply a certain type of man,” the woman said, shrugging, “and there’s no easy pairing for certain types of men.”

  “What does that mean?” Autumn spoke the words before her brain had a good chance to filter them, but she wouldn’t take them back. She was too curious. Clearing her throat, she stood a bit from the chair so the woman could better see her over the railing. “What do you mean by certain type of man?”

  “Haven’t you met him?”

  “Of course. He fetched me from Buinet.”

  The woman laid her head to the side. “Haven’t spoken to him?”

  Apparently, the canting of one’s head in a you’re full of shit fashion was just as typical of Jekhans as it was for Terrans.

  Autumn retook her seat and let out a dry, nervous laugh. “Well, yes, of course, though not extensively. I have to admit I was pretty wiped out during the trip from Buinet to here.”

  The woman gave a slow nod and smoothed her little boy’s hair back from his eyes. “Well, good luck to you. When you speak to him, tell him that Kelta sends her regards.”

  “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  The woman turned in her previous direction and then pivoted right back. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Autumn.”

  “Huh.” She nodded and really did leave that time.

  When she was out of earshot, Autumn said, “I’m not sure how I should feel about that interaction.”

  Cree blew a raspberry. “I wouldn’t think too much of it.”

  “She didn’t seem hostile to you?”

  “Nope. You’re overacting like you always do. She was just curious.”

  Autumn would have to take Cree’s word for it. While it was true that her little sister needed improvement in a number of areas, sociology wasn’t one of them. She was unusually empathic—a trait she obviously hadn’t inherited from their father. Dexter Ray was all bile and bluster and rarely gave a shit about how he came across.

  Autumn put her juice cup back to her lips and stared at the COM device lying on the table in front of her. It was seven local time, which probably wasn’t too early to try to talk with Luke, but she had no way of knowing what kind of hours he kept.

  She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and worried at a dry patch. That could always be a conversational topic, and she was bound to need a few with him. She didn’t know what he liked and what he didn’t. She didn’t know his routine or even what his job was, really.

  If she was going to get what she wanted, she needed to be interested.

  She figured out how to open a connection to him and listened for the clicks.

  One. Two.

  Cree looked over her shoulder at her and pushed up an eyebrow.

  Three. Four.

  How many is normal?

  Five. Six.

  Then came the sound of a masculine clearing of a throat and a sleepy, sexy, “Yeah?”

  For a moment, Autumn forgot what words were.

  “Yeah?” He repeated through what sounded like a yawn.

  Is he in bed?

  She wondered what a man like Luke Cipriani wore to bed, and if he had the covers tangled up between his legs. Or if he was more regimented in sleep and stayed perfectly still throughout the night with the blankets neatly pinned under his armpits.

  Worrying her lip again, she gave her head a slight shake and let her gaze go unfocused toward the railing.

  I bet he’s a mess in bed.

  She’d never slept with a wild man before, and it dawned on her that sex with him would be expected after they got married. Her long dry spell was going to be broken by that man and she didn’t know if she was ready.

  Cree tossed a wadded napkin at her.

  Oh.

  Clearing her throat, Autumn sat up straighter and got her head in the game. Space travel must have scrambled her brain if her imagination was wasting energy on thoughts of sex.

  “Luke, this is Autumn. I didn’t know what time you got up. I figured the best thing to do was call and see if you were awake. I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

  “Autumn. Oh.” He let out a long breath followed by a murmured complaint she couldn’t clearly hear. “Don’t worry about it. The time I get up changes every day. I don’t exactly work a desk job.”

  Autumn smoothed the pad of her thumb over her sweater’s edge and glanced at Cree. Cree had turned her focus on a trio of Jekhan boys—or Terran-Jekhan, Autumn couldn’t be sure—playing with a large, lightweight ball in front of the general store.

  “Cree and I already had breakfast,” Autumn said. “I hoped to do some sightseeing today.”

  “Sightseeing, hmm?” Luke cleared his throat and released one of those long, involuntary-sounding moans that usually accompanied a good stretch.

  Again, her brain took a dive off of the cliff of professionalism into the sea of salaciousness. She wondered if when the sheets fell away if there’d be a peek of dark hair leading down from his navel. If the morning arrived with arousal and whether his manhood would strain beneath the covers.

  Whether he’d touch it or ignore it.

  She grabbed the flesh of her right thigh and squeezed hard until her head cleared.

  What’s wrong with me?

  “There’s not much around here as far as sights go,” he said, “unless you like geological formations. I could certainly give you the lay of the land, though. Can’t fly a huge distance without having the right fuel to thrust into a higher atmosphere. The ship has two different combustion systems, one for lower-altitude travel, and one for atmosphere and space. Not that you care. I won’t bore you.”

  “I wasn’t bored. I appreciate you telling me there’s a difference. Are all ships like that?”

  “Nah. Most ships that can handle space actually aren’t all that good at short-distance trips. They’re generally too heavy.”

  “Fascinating.” Autumn cringed at the flat tone of her voice.

  “You don’t have to pretend.”

  “No, I mean it.” If she wasn’t careful, she spoke in too much of a monotone, and she’d learned the hard way that it was easier to offend people when she didn’t have inflections in her voice. She sometimes sounded disinterested, even if she wasn’t. Another thing she’d inherited from her mother. Her mother was mostly deaf and often had to overcompensate her intonations so people could understand her intent. English was actually much easier for her than her native tongue because people could understand her, whether or not they could gauge her attitude from her tone.

  “Physics isn’t my best subject,” she said, “but that’s one less curiosity to niggle at the back of my mind.”

  “I know the feeling. Listen, I can be in town in about an hour. Gotta grab a shower and a cup of coffee and such.”

  “Isn’t there—”

  “Actually, scratch that. There’s a little coffee shop in town.”

  She was just about to ask him.

  “Believe it or not, I haven’t been there yet,” he said. “The farm actually owns the place. The folks on it do collectively, anyway. Nice little profit-sharing arrangement. Courtney imports the coffee. Her sister Erin’s partner Headron is the guy who makes all the pastries. Well, either him or his uncle.”

  That made Cree whip her head around. “Hey! Headron. We know that guy’s name.”

  Erin raised both brows. They had heard it when the lodge keeper brought them breakfast. She’d been nattering about how half the pastries she’d set aside for breakfast had mysteriously disappeared. They’d been delightful—sweet and with just the right amount of fruit interspersed between the flaky layers. Autumn could certainly understand how the pastries could have “walked away.” The whole time she’d been eating them, she’d been pondering if she could make a vendor deal for her first hotel.

  Luke laughed. “Is that Cree in the background?”

  Autumn sighed
. “Yes, that’s Cree. We had a chance to sample some of Headron’s products this morning here at the lodge. He’s very good.”

  “Yep. He’s good, and his uncle is excellent. We keep joking that we’re going to take out insurance policies on their hands. So, in front of the coffee shop in an hour?”

  She could hear water striking the sides of a shower, and if the shower in The Tin Can was anything like the one at the lodge, the water wouldn’t be hot for long.

  “Yes, fine. An hour.”

  “Great. See you then.” He disconnected.

  Autumn set down the COM and fiddled with the strap.

  She pondered getting up and tidying her room, but she’d already done that. She’d also unpacked some of her clothes and put them in the dresser and closet. Her makeup was already done and hair perfectly coiffed. There was nothing left to do.

  She wasn’t used to being so idle—to sitting still and waiting on people.

  Wringing her hands, she scanned the main street and its low buildings and pondered taking a walk. Her apartment block wasn’t far, and if her contractor was worth his salt, he’d already be down at the site.

  But she didn’t want to be seen there—not yet. She didn’t want the project tainted by her name until she’d had a chance to show people that she wasn’t like her father.

  She would have killed for a newspaper. “Do you think this town has a newspaper?” she asked Cree.

  Cree snorted. “You should travel more.”

  “I don’t know what one thing has to do with the other.”

  “If you traveled more, you’d guess that towns like these don’t need newspapers because they have a more robust information system.”

  “What? Television?”

  “No, silly. Their mouths.”

  “Oh.”

  Duh.

  Chances were good that Autumn was the newest nugget of current events information making the rounds in the grapevine.

  Less than an hour later, a sleek, silver ship about fifteen yards long set down in front of the lodge.