Wolfe, Annabel - Secrets of a Reckless Princess [The Starlight Chronicles 4] (Siren Publishing PolyAmour)
Page 4
“You are as beautiful here,”—long fingers skimmed her labia—“as you are everywhere else.”
One finger teased her opening then eased inside her vaginal passage in tantalizing exploration.
Without thought, she spread her legs open even more at the erotic invasion and closed her eyes, all her concentration on the rhythm of his finger as he began to move it deep and then slide it almost all the way out, to push slowly back in. Though it wasn’t a conscious decision, her hips lifted with each penetration and he added a second finger and also began to use his thumb in a wicked swirling motion.
She knew how it all worked—as she’d told him, she’d not only read about it, but seen images of couples involved in intercourse, and arousal flooded her senses, the skilled mimicking of what he was going to do to her with his cock more than just a little effective. “You’re getting wet,” he murmured, angling his fingers in an effective way that caused her inner muscles to tighten as washes of pleasure rolled over her.
The approval in the husky tone of his voice barely registered as Jayla moaned, the sound involuntary. She arched into his hand, and instead of moving faster, which was what she needed, to her dismay he abruptly withdrew his fingers.
And used his mouth instead.
Dark silky hair brushed her thighs as his head dipped between her open legs, and his tongue parted her female folds, tickling, teasing, and then began to stimulate her clitoris until the stars shattered all around her and a low scream was torn from her throat. The rapturous peak of release held her prisoner until finally Marc lifted his head and smiled.
She might have smiled back, if she’d had the strength.
He shifted over her, his handsome face intent, positioning himself, his hands braced on either side of her shoulders. The crest of his hard cock tested her sex, pushing against the entrance enough so she felt the pressure, but he didn’t penetrate her body, and his thighs widened her legs even more. “Shall we make permanent our mutual decision to rule Anasta side by side, Princess?”
Somehow she managed to find her voice, though it sounded off-key when she responded. “I would not be here with you like this if I thought I might change my mind, Ambassador.”
“I rushed you in here the moment you agreed.”
“I allowed myself to be rushed.”
“Ah, the imperious royal voice resurfaces.” He touched her cheek in a light brush of his knuckles. “You might not believe this, but this moment is as new to me as it is to you.”
“You are a virgin?” Jayla stared at him in disbelief.
“No.” He chuckled, but then sobered. “But in a way, yes, I suppose I am, for I have never mated with the woman who would be my life partner before. It is somehow…different.”
“Is it?” Had he chosen to say almost anything else, she couldn’t imagine it to be more reassuring. Perhaps it was diplomatic rhetoric, but Jayla didn’t think so, and when he began to ease inside her, she exhaled and did her best to relax to accept his size and the intimate possession. After what he’d just done to her, she thought, still locked in the haze of post-orgasmic pleasure, he could use her body as he wanted.
Part of her protested his size, which seemed enormous, but as he slowly pushed his erection into her vaginal passage, she found she could accommodate him after all. There was a brief sting as her hymen gave way, and then, somehow, he was buried deeply within her, his lean hips against her inner thighs. Marc kissed her temple, and he might have asked a question—she wasn’t sure because her mind was occupied with how it felt to be so intimately joined with another being. Her nails bit into his shoulders. “Shouldn’t you move, Ambassador?”
“Shouldn’t you call me Marc?” One dark brow arched up playfully, but the tension in his muscles and the sheen of sweat on his skin was a giveaway he wasn’t as composed as he acted. “Considering the circumstances?”
Perhaps she should, for formality at a moment like this was a little ridiculous, but as the coil of enjoyment deep in her stomach tightened as he slid backwards and then sank back inside, all she managed was a small gasp. The glide of his sex into hers wasn’t completely without discomfort because of his size, but the stretching sensation was by far overshadowed by the rapturous, almost primitive pleasure.
It was primitive, she discovered moments later, as she learned the rhythm of thrust and withdrawal. The male moving over and in her watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, his respiration changing as his hips moved with greater speed, and his hand slipped between their joined bodies to stroke her in time with his inward stroke.
This time when she climaxed the burst was so fierce her cry rang through the sleeping chamber and she shook, clinging to him as he groaned and the burst of his ejaculation filled her in a hot rush of sperm.
Panting, damp, entwined, they lay in a careless sprawl on her bed, until Marc finally lifted his head and said with an irreverent grin, “I believe I am going to like living here on Anasta, Princess Jayla.”
Chapter Five
Though he was hardly being treated like an honored guest, at least they’d permitted him a handheld reading device with a decent library on it. Though, Damon noted with a wry inner smile, there was nothing remotely political in the catalog. He sat in a careless sprawl, doing his best to stay engrossed in a futuristic work by one of his favorite Minoan authors, when the light flashed by the door and it slid open.
The tall male that entered looked familiar, and as he straightened from his relaxed pose on the less than comfortable sleeping couch provided, he realized why. Governor Kartel’s son was genetically enough like his father the connection was striking, the handsome sculpted features distinctive and well-known across the Federation as the ruler of Minoa was one of the most influential powers in interstellar politics and frequently gave speeches and made public appearances.
Under any other circumstances, Damon would have jumped at the chance to talk to someone like Marc Kartel, who had access to the head of the Universal Council, but being visited in his cell made the moment lose its gloss. Not only that, but Damon was well aware of the possible alliance between his visitor and Jayla.
Fuck.
He knew Kartel was expected to arrive from Minoa soon, but didn’t know he was already on Anasta.
“Le Clerc,” his visitor said pleasantly, and inclined his head. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m—”
“Marc Kartel,” Damon interrupted. “You look enough like your father to be a clone. I’d offer you a seat, but, as you see, there isn’t one.”
Kartel looked amused and glanced around the small, spare space. “This isn’t much like the rest of the palace, I admit, but it is, after all, a cell for holding prisoners.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Damon muttered, but he had to admit, he was curious. He set aside his reading device and rose, not wanting to feel at a disadvantage. They were of a height and looked each other in the eye. “Looking forward to meeting me why? I’m not exactly too popular right now.”
“I’ve read your work.” The other male lifted a brow. “And to the contrary, you are popular enough the Queen, my father, and the governing body of the Federation are alarmed you are going to cause sufficient dissention that the ripple effect of it across the universe could affect economies on hundreds of planets.”
“I am not trying to start a revolution. I want reform, not anarchy.”
“That is exactly what I wished to hear.”
“I don’t say anything because it is what I think someone wishes to hear—it’s the plain truth.”
Kartel laughed and shook his head. “Your diplomatic skills could use some work, Le Clerc.”
“I never claimed to be anything except a scientist who specializes in the impact of politics on economies and interstellar relations.”
“In my opinion you are an expert in just that field, and head and shoulders above anyone else. How would you like a post to Anasta’s Ruling Council, and perhaps, when the furor dies down, an advisory position to Minoa?”
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To say he was shocked was an understatement. Damon stared, speechless.
“You are in trouble, yes,” Kartel went on in the same reasonable tone, “but I think the appointment will soothe the troubled waters in two ways. To accept a cabinet post, you have to take a vow to work with your colleagues in Anasta’s governing body. This will also serve to show the people who have read your articles that we mean to consider the changes you suggest.”
It made sense, but the opportunity had come to him so unexpectedly, all Damon could think of to say was, “The Queen and my father will never agree.”
“I’m the consort of Anasta, and with Minoa’s support, I think they will be persuaded.”
Jayla.
Damon narrowed his eyes and wished he could stifle the hoarseness in his voice. “You are already consort? Just this morning, Jay…I mean, the Princess, said nothing about it.”
“Rather hard for her to speak with your tongue in her mouth,” Kartel drawled dryly, his gaze direct. “Besides, we didn’t agree to the alliance until after that public kiss between the two of you. We hadn’t met yet.”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known this would one day come, but it was more difficult than he imagined, especially after that devastating kiss. Damon did his best to look bland, but inside him something tore apart. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”
“But you’d rather rip my beating heart out instead.”
“Yes,” Damon admitted.
“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way, Le Clerc.”
There didn’t seem to be any way to look at it except a straightforward recognition that this male now had sexual rights to Jayla. Maybe they even had already mated. It was part of the process, after all.
“Yes, we have mated. She isn’t just beautiful, but passionate also.”
Damon just stared at him, since he hadn’t spoken out loud. He knew Ran Kartel was supposed to have a strong ability to read the emotions and thoughts of others. Apparently this had passed on in some measure to his son.
“It was a natural assumption you were wondering from both the look on your face and the direction of our conversation.” Kartel shrugged, his smile negligent. “I would ask myself at once if I knew the female I loved had agreed to life partner with another male if he’d fucked her yet.”
“Not the word I would have chosen, Kartel,” Damon said bitterly. He wanted to pace, but the room was too small, so instead he just knotted his hands into fists and took a deep breath. “I hope you…that is, Jayla is sensitive and looks so delicate…”
A glimmer of respect showed in Kartel’s blue-green eyes. “You do love her if you hoped she enjoyed mating with another male. And like I said, you are looking at this the wrong way. The Princess is much more free now than she was before our alliance. You know the law. She can have a second mate.”
It was true. With the ratio of male to females almost three to one, it was considered acceptable—encouraged even—for a female to have more than one male in her bed. The enhanced sex drive of S-species males meant for greater aggression if they were sexually deprived for long periods of time. Multiple mates took care of that problem. “Are you telling me you’d agree?” Damon asked.
“Why not? Your affection for one another is obvious enough. I have no desire to make her unhappy, and I’m sure you’ll be more useful if you are not consumed with jealousy, which by the way, Le Clerc, is an irrational and archaic human emotion.”
Since most of the day he’d spent in gloomy contemplation of his less than appealing future, with this reverse of fortune he didn’t even mind the slight condescending edge of amusement in the other male’s voice. Damon said, “My mother was full human, not S-species. I’m half-bred.”
“Mine as well. I suppose we have that in common besides Jayla. Now then, are you interested in my proposal?”
“I’d crawl naked through a nest of Mantuian fire ants for her. Yes, of course I’m interested.”
“I wasn’t talking about Jayla. I guessed easily enough that was a given. I meant the position on the Ruling Council.”
At least Kartel was astute enough to know it wouldn’t be easy. “They aren’t going to accept my appointment with open arms, including my father,” he pointed out quietly. “They think I’m a troublemaker, and if they are resistant to change as much as they have been in the past, I still will be. What they don’t see is that the economic model Anasta is based on is already beginning to fail despite the evident prosperity here. It’s happening on other planets as well. The reason my article had such a universal impact is that the less affluent have already begun to feel the effects. Exponentially, it will continue to grow unless some things are changed, including taxation, tariffs, and exporting practices.”
“The difference now is you have me on your side and I think together we can effectively harness your ideas into presentations they will consider. Are you in?”
Put that way, it was an offer impossible to refuse. Kartel was right. One of Damon’s problems was he was too passionate about his work, and as a result, admittedly too forthright. He said, “Absolutely.”
* * * *
The two moons hung low over the First City, giving a shimmer to the tall buildings. Ran Kartel traced a line down his wife’s slim shoulder to the generous curve of her breast. He murmured, “He accepted. The alliance with Anasta is complete. Our son is now consort of the Princess.”
Jerra sat up in a flurry of blonde hair and outrage, nude and lush. “You didn’t tell me before this?”
“I just received the message.” He pulled her into his arms again. “Besides, it’s your fault. You distract me.”
“Hmph.” She pushed at his bare chest, but not with any great force and a soft smile lingered on her lips. “Our son chooses a life mate, a wife, and you forget to tell me.”
“You knew he might.” Ran nibbled at her neck, which was still graceful and taut even in middle age. “I, for one, am glad he came to the decision so quickly. It means he found Princess Jayla attractive, which I assumed he would from the images I’ve seen of her, but he must also have liked her. I know Marc and he wouldn’t tie himself for life to any female, no matter the political advantage, if she wasn’t appealing in other ways as well.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Jerra settled back against him. “It’s just…”
When she trailed off, he knew exactly how she felt, not just because he could read her with an uncanny accuracy—more than anyone he’d ever known—but since he felt in a small measure the same way. He caught her chin and tilted her face toward his. “We haven’t lost him, love, we’ve gained. He’s a full grown male, and he has taken the right steps, waiting for this opportunity. When he and the Princess decide it is time, they will breed. Think of holding our son’s child someday.”
“I feel old.”
The wistful tone of her voice made him chuckle softly. His wife was supple and alluring with her fair coloring and those magnificent aquamarine eyes. His current state of full arousal proved he didn’t find her any less attractive than he had the first time they’d met. He cupped her buttocks and urged her closer, so his erect cock pressed her stomach. “I’m older than you are, so am I also supposed to feel ancient? Let me show you how young we still are.”
“You are so predictable, Governor,” she murmured, slipping her hand lower to circle her fingers around his swollen erection and squeeze lightly.
Pleasure shot through him at the caress. “When you are naked in my arms, I suppose I am.”
“How about when I am naked on top of you?”
“That’s always pleasant also,” he teased, but the motion of her hand, sliding up and down his penis made his tone a little uneven.
“Pleasant?” She laughed, and let go of him, rising up on the bed, her voluptuous breasts swaying in enticing symmetry. “I see you need to be reminded of a better word.”
Straddling his hips, Jerra rose up and, taking his cock in her hand, positioned the tip at her vaginal entrance and
began to slowly lower herself. As she was human, not S-species, he was much larger and he knew she liked this position best because she could more easily control the penetration, working him inside as her body stretched to accommodate his size.
The slow grip of wet, tight heat was enough to make him groan out loud and his hands splayed over her hips to help her balance her weight. His wife’s long, pale hair brushed his fingers, soft as silk.
He loved her even more after over a quarter century of marriage than he had when he’d first met her as a sexual slave aboard a transport ship back when he was just an ambassador. At the time, to be able to marry a human required special permission, but as Governor of Minoa, he’d had that law changed. It had been outdated legislation anyway, leftover from when S-species were still trying to build their population.
Like many of the laws Damon Le Clerc protested. With the state of growth of most of the colonies, some of the laws were even potentially harmful. If Marc could get Le Clerc to rein in his infamous reckless defiance and…
Jerra slid down the last crucial distance and he was fully embedded in her luscious warmth. All thoughts of anything but the sensations bombarding every nerve-ending in his body were wiped out as she began to provocatively rock back and forth, and she made a small sexy sound of enjoyment with each motion.
He lifted his hips in rhythm with her movements, so in tune that they undulated together like one creature, and he filled his hands with her breasts, fondling the yielding flesh.
Tension built, his testicles tightened, and he fought the urge to ejaculate, the pleasure escalating as his wife arched backwards and moved more urgently on his cock, obviously close to orgasm, her nipples pebbled against his palms.
Then with a low wild cry, Jerra began to shudder, her inner muscles clenching in a way that made his resolve to not let go of his own control too soon melt away. He surged upward as she fell forward and clutched his shoulders, and their mutual cry of release was the result of knowing each other, carnally, and in every other way also, very well.