Mate for Two [Helan Universe 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Lynn Tyler

  Varin backed up until the backs of his knees touched the massive bed. “It was my pleasure, Your Highness.”

  “Really, Admiral? I don’t think you’ve had your pleasure yet. I know I haven’t had mine.” D’Arik prowled toward him, his hips swaying slightly, bringing Varin’s attention to the large bulge behind the prince’s trousers. D’Arik didn’t stop until he stood toe to toe with him. He could feel the other man’s erection pulsing against his own. Shit. Varin was pretty sure he couldn’t say no if D’Arik was intent on seducing him. “Kiss me, Varin.”

  Gods, how could he resist the prince when that command had been issued right against his mouth? On a loud groan, Varin finally gave in to ten years of longing and kissed D’Arik with all his bottled-up passion.

  Their clothes scattered across the room as D’Arik tossed them aside. The prince pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. “I’m choosing you tomorrow,” he whispered as he ground their hard pricks together.

  His words were like a splash of cold water and woke Varin out of his sexual haze. D’Arik couldn’t choose him. He may be the admiral of the space fleet, but he was nothing at his very core. He was so beneath D’Arik, he wasn’t even fit enough to be the dirt the prince walked upon. Besides, D’Arik would be expected to continue the royal bloodline, which, of course, would require him to share his mate with a female, should a compatible species ever be found. D’Arik deserved someone better and less selfish than him. “No, Your Highness. Don’t choose me.”

  D’Arik did something with his hips that had every thought draining from his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting against the hard length. “Touch me,” D’Arik demanded.

  He should stop this now. He had to tear himself away from D’Arik now or he wouldn’t be able to later. But then he felt a smear of fluid on his lower belly and looked between their bodies to see D’Arik’s cock leaking pre-cum steadily. “Please, Varin.”

  “Fuck.” Varin slid his hand between their torsos and wrapped his hand around both of them. He stroked them roughly, unable to slow his hand.

  The prince stiffened above him and cried out. Warm spurts of seed streamed over Varin’s hand and abdomen, coating his dick. His balls pulled up to his body and emptied suddenly, leaving Varin calling out the prince’s name and shaking with the strength of his release. He’d never come so fucking hard in his life.

  D’Arik collapsed against him, ignoring the cooling mess. “That was amazing. I’ve never thought coming with someone else would be so powerful.”

  Restraining himself from stroking D’Arik’s spine was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Varin concentrated on making sense of the prince’s last sentence. Would be. D’Arik had said that he hadn’t known coming with someone else would be so powerful. Gods, his bold, seductive prince was completely innocent. “Your Highness?” he whispered.

  When D’Arik didn’t answer, Varin risked a glance at the prince’s face. D’Arik had fallen fast asleep with a small smile on his face. Gods help him, Varin was already so in love with the prince that he couldn’t bring himself to care that D’Arik was out of his league.

  Varin grunted as he sprayed the shower wall with ropes of cream. The orgasm didn’t help, and his dick remained as hard and painful as ever. The mate bond ensured that Helans couldn’t receive lasting sexual satisfaction unless they found it with their mate. But he was content enough to wait until D’Arik was awake before finding relief.

  D’Arik hadn’t moved, which was a either a good sign or a very bad one. He tended to be a restless sleeper when he was stressed or worried. The fact that he was still asleep on his belly meant that either Varin’s massage had completely relaxed him, or that D’Arik was so exhausted, his body had literally shut down and forced him into a deep sleep.

  He slid under the sheet next to his mate and shifted around until he found a comfortable position. He would let D’Arik sleep as long as possible and then wake him up with some gentle loving. Maybe he would even be able to force a meal down his lover’s throat.

  Ignoring his still-pounding erection and satisfied with his plans for D’Arik, he let the gentle rhythm of the other man’s breathing lull him to sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Varin squinted around the room, wondering what had woken him up. He smiled when he saw D’Arik still fast asleep. It had been months since Varin had woken up next to him. D’Arik was still on his stomach, his face screened by a heavy mass of blond hair. The only move he’d made since passing out had been to drape a heavy, muscular arm across Varin’s waist. He loved it when his mate cuddled up to him in his sleep.

  A chime sounded from the outer room, letting Varin know what had roused him from such a deep sleep. Easing out from under D’Arik’s hold, Varin slipped on a pair of silk sleep pants and rubbed his face with both palms as he stumbled sleepily to the door. He whispered an order to open the door and stepped outside, hoping that D’Arik stayed asleep until he got back. “This had better be good.”

  The science officer stood staring up at him, his eyes wide. His dark hair was sticking out at all angles, as if he had spent hours tunneling his hands through it. “M–may I request an audience with His M–M–Majesty?” he stuttered nervously. His eyes reflected his hesitation to talk to Varin.

  Sighing at the man’s intimidation, Varin rolled his eyes. “No, you may not. You may, however, have an audience with me, if you’re quick.”

  As the high king’s mate and consort, Varin had the highest clearance possible. The only thing he couldn’t do was veto a direct order or decision made by D’Arik. “Yes, c–consort,” the scientist mumbled. “The final t–t–tests came back on the human females.” A big smile broke out over the little man’s face. “All the evidence shows that they should be able to carry H–Helan offspring.”

  Varin felt his eyes widen in surprise. They had been disappointed so many times in the past that no one had held out much hope for their success. And then his heart plummeted. D’Arik would be the first Helan to take a human female to mate. Intense jealousy grabbed a hold of his heart at the same time as deep fear settled in his stomach. He would have to watch someone else touch D’Arik, make love to D’Arik. And he was do damn scared that once D’Arik saw what he could have with someone who deserved him, he would forget about Varin.

  Varin turned and walked back into their quarters without even dismissing the officer. He stood in the doorway of the sleeping quarters and gazed possessively at the beautiful sleeping man. This may be the last chance Varin would ever have to make love to D’Arik without someone else intruding.

  Seizing the bottle of massage oil, he coated his cock with the slick substance. He stretched out next to D’Arik and propped himself on one arm so that he looked down at D’Arik’s back. Brushing his shoulder-length blond hair aside, Varin nibbled on his neck, relishing the moan it caused. He kissed his way down the strong back, licking the chocolate-brown mating tattoo that ran down his spine, and stopped to nip sharply at one perfect cheek. “Varin?” Ah, his mate was awake and, if the gritty sound of his voice was any indication, very interested.

  “I need you, liro.” He scooted to kneel between D’Arik’s legs and pull his hips up so that his cock lined up with that delectable ass. He probed against D’Arik’s tight opening, pleased to find that, even though it had been a few days since they’d done anything, the king’s pucker still relaxed for his possession instantly.

  “Yesss,” D’Arik hissed, pushing back against him so that the head of his dick sank inside. “Take me, my liro.”

  Varin grunted and sank balls-deep into his mate. He snapped his hips quickly, tilting D’Arik’s pelvis to change his angle. He knew he’d hit the right spot when D’Arik cried out his name. Adding the swivel that his mate liked so much, Varin reached down and around and grasped D’Arik’s dick, jacking him in time to his thrusts. D’Arik cried out again and stiffened as he came.

  Varin couldn’t hold back his own low moan of pleasure when his mate’s sphincter contracted aro
und him. He shot into D’Arik, marking him as his own. The orgasm was bittersweet, sweet because they hadn’t made love in days, but made bitter by Varin’s own jealousy and fear.

  He eased D’Arik on to the mattress and flopped down beside him. “Hello.”

  D’Arik smiled, but it didn’t completely erase the strain on his face. “Hello, liro. That was a nice way to wake up.”

  Varin smiled back and stroked D’Arik’s arm. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t have woken you up at all if that little scientist hadn’t come by.”

  The smile faded from D’Arik’s face, and he sat up, looking as if he was bracing himself for bad news. At least D’Arik would be happy with the news. “It’s good news, liro. The humans are genetically capable of carrying our children.”

  Varin had to catch his mate as D’Arik sagged. “Oh, thanks the gods,” he whispered. “Finally, there’s some hope.”

  D’Arik glanced around the conference room, trying to assess the general mood. The science officer was, by turns, beside himself with glee and trying to hide himself from Varin’s glare. The ship’s captain was his normal, professional self, although D’Arik thought he could detect the subtle hint of renewed hope. The Helan ambassador practically vibrated with a nervous energy, clearly ready to begin interacting with the humans. Finally, the communications officer was frowning down at his vidscreen, seemingly worried about something or other.

  Varin was the only one he could read accurately, and then only because of their mate bond. He stood in the corner, his massive body swathed from head to toe in the black leather he always insisted on wearing, glowering down at the group. At six feet, six inches, he really did look down on the group. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs spread as if anticipating some sort of attack. With his long black hair streaming down his back to his hips, a tiny war braid at either temple and his mouth set in a grim line, he really had no idea how intimidating he was. And while he was normally reserved and somewhat forbidding, Varin wasn’t usually so downright scary. The emotions pouring through him through their mate bond told him that Varin was intensely scared and jealous of something. All D’Arik really wanted to do was drag his consort back to their quarters and soothe away whatever was bugging him.

  Sighing deeply, D’Arik gestured for the captain to begin. The words the captain was saying seemed to blur together, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Wasn’t this always the way? When he had time to sleep, he couldn’t. Now, when he needed to be wide awake, he could hardly keep his eyes open. Luckily, once glance at Varin assured him that his consort was taking in all the pertinent information and would fill him in fully later. “Are you sure,” D’Arik interrupted, “that these humans are compatible?”

  “Very, Your Majesty.” The little science officer eyed him nervously. “My m–m–mate and I have checked and rechecked the t–t–tests.”

  Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he glanced at the ambassador and the communications officer. “Do we have a message for them?”

  The frowning communications officer nodded sharply. “We do, Your Majesty. The human language, English, is the closest to our own language, so we have decided to direct our communication to the largest English-speaking territory, known as the United States.”

  Varin pulled away from the wall he’d been propped up against and walked over to stand behind D’Arik. Even though his mate didn’t touch him, D’Arik could feel his comforting heat right through his chair. “There is one problem, Your Majesty,” he said.

  Damn, D’Arik hated it when Varin used his title, but he knew they had to stand on some tradition, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. While the Choosing Ceremony had been practiced as far back as their history had been recorded, D’Arik had been the first of royal line who hadn’t had a prearranged choosing. His own fathers had only tolerated each other. He’d even heard that they hadn’t actually learned to like each other until they took his mother to mate. His fathers had almost always referred to each other by their titles.

  D’Arik loved that Varin felt comfortable enough to call him by his given name in private, but the stubborn man had always insisted on using their titles in public. “And what is that, Consort?”

  “Thantos and Kerek”—Varin gestured to the ambassador and the communications officer—“have some concerns about how the humans will respond to our request. We may have to negotiate.”

  His lungs seized, and he was suddenly struggling to suck in enough air. What the hell would he do if they said no? They were out of time. There was no way they could find another compatible species before the damage done to the Helan population was not recoverable. His stomach churned and threatened to empty. This had to work. They didn’t have another choice.

  Varin must have sensed the panic building in him because he dismissed the rest of the room and knelt in front of him. “D’Arik, what’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and swallowed loudly. “We’ve come so far, Varin. I’ve never considered the fact that once we found a compatible species, they would deny our request.”

  Varin stroked his spine, and he arched his spine into his hand, taking comfort from his mate’s support. “Don’t worry, liro. If they don’t agree right away, we’ll make sure they see the sense in accepting our offer. We both know that both the Voraks and Jedans are exploring this sector, looking for planets with exactly these resources. They will rape this planet without a care for the inhabitants. The humans will agree when they see the wisdom in it.”

  Chapter 4

  Jacy stormed around the room, fuming over what she’d just heard. Three days ago, a large craft had materialized in the sky, and a large man had appeared on every television screen in the White House, demanding the leaders of the world hand over their women to breed.

  The various presidents, prime ministers, kings and queens, and other world leaders had scrambled while they tried to decide just how to respond to this demand. At first, it had been summarily denied, of course.

  The next message had been much harder to deny. The “ambassador” had demanded that the name and vital information of every woman in the world between the ages of twenty-one and thirty be placed on a registry. In exchange for letting the alien men choose the women they wanted to “take to mate,” as they said, the aliens would provide medicines that would reportedly cure many human diseases, technology to increase crop yields, water purification systems, and protection from other, more hostile aliens just now beginning to explore their area of space.

  The sheer number of lives that could be saved immediately and in the near future had apparently won out, and the leaders, very few of them women, had agreed to the compromise. While Jacy could logically see the benefit to the agreement, she chafed at being treated like chattel.

  And of course, eager to make a good impression on the powerful visitors and to set a good example for their people, her father, the President of the United States, had insisted she be the first to register on the new potential mating list. Crappy, crap, crap! she thought.

  “Miss Jacy?” The whisper came from behind her. She spun around and saw one of her security detail standing in the doorway. “What’s been happening isn’t fair. No one should be traded away, no matter what is being gained. Especially you, Miss Jacy.”

  “Well, I’m glad you feel that way, but there is really nothing I can do about it unless you and the rest of security would be willing to look the other way while I disappear before tomorrow night’s welcome dinner.” She blew her wispy bangs out of her eyes and shot a glare at the dress hanging in her closet.

  Her bodyguard shifted, looking extremely uncomfortable. “We are.”

  Jacy froze, her eyes fastened on the man unwaveringly. “What do you mean?”

  The guard shifted again and lifted his eyes so that he looked right at her, his determination shining in his eyes. “I mean that we are willing to look the other way. We’ve all talked about it. We’ll all look the other way. But it’s only our shift that we trust to let you sneak out, so you have to g
o now.” The man looked at her with tears in his eyes and handed her a wad of money and a stack of documents, including a falsified passport. “This is the best we could do, Miss Jacy. We all pitched in, and one of the guys in the Fraud department whipped up the fake passport and driver’s license for you.”

  This time it was her tears that threatened to fall. “I can’t thank you all enough.”

  The guard closed the door quietly behind him and crossed the room, opening the first-floor window. He nodded at someone and gestured for her to come closer. “We just wish we could do more. Go on, Miss Jacy. All the guards patrolling the grounds right now are aware of our plan.”

  She really didn’t know what to say, so she leaned forward and kissed the guard’s cheek before easing herself out the window. She took one last look at what had been her home for the past seven years and tried her best to melt into the shadows.

  She crept carefully past the CIA agents, worried that despite her bodyguard’s assurances that everyone on this shift had agreed to look the other way, she would run into someone who was not quite on board with the plan.

  Slipping behind some shrubs, she sat down to contemplate her plan. It was all good and well for her to make it past the White House perimeter, but what the hell was she supposed to do then? Catch a flight to some unknown destination? She fingered her long, auburn hair. It would be easy to identify her as the first daughter. Perhaps if she cut off her hair and dyed it, it would be easier to blend in.

  Her first stop would have to be at a hair salon. Jacy slowly stood up, peeked over the shrub, glanced around to make sure no one was coming, and darted out from her hiding spot. She could just make out the gate. Hopefully someone had thought to open it so she could creep through. There was nothing to provide her with cover now. The only choice she had now was whether she should walk to the gate at a sedate pace and risk getting caught, or race there and risk getting noticed.