by Mina Carter
A little devil on her shoulder, she felt no remorse about teasing him relentlessly. Hand lifting his shaft, she traced the tip of her tongue along his length. “So you never, uhm, ‘bred’?”
His abs tensed, a tiny roll of his hips shoving his cock closer to her face.
“No. Never,” he panted, managing a word between each of her soft licks against his shaft. “Too close to… Oh fuck!”
He broke as she flicked her tongue over the broad head of his cock, his hand dropping to drive into her hair. She didn’t much notice as his taste exploded on her tongue. Heat hit her broadside and she hummed in the back of her throat as she moved forward, parting her lips to take him deep into her mouth.
His curses were a mix of Terran and Latharian as she worked his cock, bobbing her head up and down. Each time she slid him deep, she sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks as she pulled back. His hand tightened in her hair, hurting a little, but she didn’t care. His little loss of control said she had him right where she wanted him.
He groaned, his hips jerking as his cock pulsed in her mouth. She could feel him getting closer. She wanted it. Wanted to feel him come apart because of her.
“Khaaitan?”
Cade’s deep voice reached them. Seren hauled her upward, forcing her to release his cock with a wet pop, and pulled her into his arms.
“Go away, Cade!” he ordered, breathing heavily as the footsteps came closer. Odd, she mused, Cade sounded like he was at least three times his height and weight. Must be something about the hall floorboards.
“Sorry to…” She heard the sound of an indrawn breath. “Uhm. Sorry to interrupt, but the clan have arranged a feast for the lady. To celebrate her arrival. If the khaaitan and the lady would like to join us?”
11
Cockblocked by his own brother. That had to be a new low.
“Yeah, we’ll be right there. The lady needs to… freshen up.”
How Seren managed to keep his voice level and not strangled he had no idea. But he did, holding Gracie nestled in his arms against his chest. Her hand was still wrapped around his throbbing cock, his balls screaming at the interruption. Of all the times for his brother to come wandering in, this had to be the one. When she had her… oh lady, he’d never known pleasure like it, not even with the most experienced females in the pleasure houses.
“Hmmm, I guess we should get ready. Shouldn’t we?” she murmured, amusement on her face as she looked up at him.
“Do you want to?” he murmured, wondering if he could maneuver her into the bed. If he took her, perhaps she would reconsider his claim over her and agree to name him her mate.
And he could convince her. He knew he could. The heat and darkness in her eyes gave away her need. As much as she’d teased him, held control over him, her need was just as great… if not greater if the heady scent of arousal swirling around them like a fine perfume was to be believed.
“No… yes,” she corrected regretfully. “If they’ve been good enough to organize something, it would be rude not to go. Wouldn’t it?”
He nodded and dropped his head back to the wall again. Draanth. He’d hoped she’d want to stay in his rooms. Preferably with him.
“Okay,” he pulled her closer, savoring the feel of her closeness. Of her hand wrapped around him. “But we’re not done here. Just so you know.”
Her small chuckle was deep and sensual. “Oh, I didn’t think we were. I’m hoping this is a ‘hold that thought’ kind of deal.”
His heart stopped and then roared back to life as triumph and pure, savage glee filled him. She had invited him into her bed. It wasn’t the heartfelt acceptance of his claim that he wanted, but it was a start. If he could pleasure her well enough, get her hooked with his body, that was an in. He could work with that.
“Oh yes,” he breathed, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. “It definitely is. But…we really should get ready.”
He sighed as he lifted up, putting some space between them. His cock screamed as he pulled her hand off him, all his male instincts railing at him that the only acceptable next course of action was to carry her to the bed and spend the rest of the day and evening making her scream his name in pleasure. That way he might not even need her to accept his claim here. All his kinsmen would know she’d accepted him. And if he got her with young…
That thought hit him like a pole axe between the eyes as an image of her filled his mind. Of her dressed in a soft Latharian gown, the silks wrapped around her curves and her belly large and swollen with his child, that glorious red hair loose about her shoulders.
He closed his eyes for a second, savage longing filling him so intensely it was all he could do to stand there. He wanted that, with her. Wanted her to be the mother of his children. Wanted little red-haired sons with his strength and their mother’s winning smile. Or… goddess help him, a little red-haired little girl with dark eyes.
The unbidden growl at that idea almost escaped him. If he had a daughter, he would become death itself. Any male who even looked at his child would face his wrath. No one would ever be good enough for her. He’d kill them al—
“Hey.” Soft fingers on his jaw brought him back to himself, and he looked down to meet Gracie’s eyes. “Still with me, handsome?”
He moved before she could step away, stealing a hard kiss. “Always. Before we go, I have something for you…”
Seren had given her a dress. But not like any dress she’d ever seen before. The fabric was the softest she’d ever felt. Held on by more delicate laces than a shop full of sneakers, it wrapped around her body like water to reveal and highlight her curves better than a corset and push up bra, yet it concealed everything she needed it to. The full skirts swished around her legs, making her feel like a princess, while the elaborate designs worked into the fabric made were more Viking warrioress.
An alien Viking warrior princess. She could work with that.
The Vorr had arranged a feast for her, but it had not been like the more formal banquets she’d been a guest of aboard the alien warships with warriors arranged according to rank and status and on their best behavior. Instead, it was a more provincial gathering around a large fire pit in the middle of the long hall. Rough cut benches were arranged around it, the food a buffet laid out on small tables between.
Two large chairs, like thrones, sat at the top of the hall, comfortable furs placed over the seats. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the larger was the khaaitan’s and its smaller, more ornate partner for his mate. The khaaitarina or something? Was there a title for the leader’s wife?
“Not what you’re used to?”
Cade dropped onto the bench next to her, holding out a wooden bowl filled with what looked like dried figs. Since she’d never had a problem with any Latharian food, she reached out to take one with a smile of thanks.
“No. Not at all.”
She shook her head as she nibbled on the treat. It wasn’t a bug. At least, she didn’t think so. In fact, given the wide variety of non-bug-related foods here tonight, she was coming to the conclusion that only Jay was presented with certain dishes—an example of the very literal, very dry Latharian sense of humor.
“You all seem more… relaxed than any Lathar I’ve seen before? Does that make sense?”
She’d seen Latharians aboard their warships, in their leathers and with their honor braids. She’d seen them training and in disciplined units. She’d even seen some of them off duty aboard the ships, in crew lounges carefully kept away from the humans aboard. All the time there had been an air of restraint, despite their curiosity about humans, and the impression that every single one of them had been warned to be on their best behavior and not approach the humans unless approached first.
The same sort of restraint was present here, most of them sliding her sidelong glances. Cade had been the only one brave enough to approach her. Even though… she noticed a little face peeking around a cargo pant-clad leg with interest.
She smiled and gave a wav
e to the little boy. Tarveth. He looked just like any other little boy from Earth, apart from his mop of petrol black hair and emerald eyes. A slight heaviness around the jaw indicated his nonhuman heritage.
“You mean we’re not stick-up-our-asses imperial warriors?” Cade chuckled. Up this close she could see his eyes weren’t black as she’d thought, but differing shades of rich brown and amber.
She snorted and almost choked on her drink, some kind of fizzy berry juice, at his answer. Neither of them paid any attention as he held out the bowl with the treats to the little boy as he crept out from his hiding place. Cade’s grin broadened a little as Tarveth helped himself.
“What?” the young Lathar asked with a cheeky grin, somehow managing to lounge on the hard wooden bench. At first she’d thought he was the Latharian equivalent of a teenager, all long limbs and gangliness, his broad shoulders hinting at the man he would become. But the strength of his jawline and the stubble that decorated it gave him away and she upped her estimation to mid-twenties.
“Are you forgetting your brother is one of those stick-up-the-ass imperial warriors?”
She chuckled, nodding to where Seren sat talking to a bigger male on the other side of the fire. He’d spent only a few minutes sitting next to her in his fancy chair before being called away.
He’d stripped out of his warrior’s leathers and wore a pair of cargo pants, patched at one knee. Her appreciative gaze wandered over his broad chest and shoulders as he spoke easily with the big male next to him.
“Pffft.” Cade waved the flagon in his hand dismissively. “He’s a sacrificial lamb. We needed to send at least one warrior, and the powers that be prefer to keep an eye on the khaaitan. Hobble him.”
She blinked at the revelation and turned to look at Cade as he stuck his nose in his flagon, swallowing down what she’d worked out was some form of sweet mead. One far too strong for her Terran constitution. Even a sniff of it had made her lightheaded.
She cradled her own flagon and smiled as Tarveth crept a little closer, looking up at her. She risked a small look down, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away, and lifted her arm so he could sit with her if he wanted. It was too much, and he skittered away, sitting on the bench next to Cade to look at her with wide eyes.
She didn’t take offense. It would take time for Tarveth to come around. He’d probably never seen a female other than his… that? The female who had rented ‘womb space’?
“Believe me, your brother is not the most by-the-book imperial warrior I’ve met.” She chuckled, thinking of Nyek. The paladin was the utter definition of stick-up-the-ass. “And what is it about the Vorr and the empire? And why would they want to hobble him?”
Her question was blunt, curiosity getting the better of her as she watched the younger Lathar’s expression. As expected, his eyes slid sideways, an uh-oh look on his face. Unlike Seren, who had an excellent poker face, Cade would lose the shirt off his back in a heartbeat… If he wore one.
She shook her head. “If you ever end up in Terran space, don’t play poker. Especially not with any female marines. They’d eat you alive. Now… spill. What’s the deal?”
He looked uncomfortable and rumbled in the back of his throat, the deep sound almost like a purr. It was similar to the sound Seren made but didn’t affect her at all. He glanced over at his brother, who was still talking.
“The Vorr are not liked,” he started slowly, his voice pitched low. A shiver down the back of her neck said what he told her was important, perhaps vital intelligence that would help the Terrans deal with the Lathar. “We are… an old bloodline. From before. Tarveth, I think Vaix is looking for you.”
She waited until the boy had scuttled off and turned on Cade. “People keep saying that! From before what?”
“You don’t know.” He blinked at her and then shuffled closer. “Okay, so the empire is made up of clans swearing fealty to each other. Right?”
She nodded. She’d worked out that much for herself.
“Good. So all these clans have a main bloodline and subsidiary bloodlines. If you’re from a main bloodline, you’re higher up in the clan. Subsidiary families or warriors adopted into the clan hold the name, but they aren’t as high up.”
She gave another nod. “It sounds a lot like some cultures on Earth. So where do the Vorr fit in? I thought Seren was a K’Vass?”
Cade wrinkled his nose. “He is. He was adopted into the K’Vass clan because no one else would take a Vorr. And… he’s related to a couple of the K’Vass warriors on his mother’s side so he could claim kinship.”
“His mother?” she queried, tilting her head to one side. “But not your mother?”
Cade shook his head. “We share a father, but his mother was Latharian. Mine wasn’t. Mine was—” He cut himself off with a shrug. “That’s not important. Seren is a K’Vass but he’s also a main bloodline Vorr. The heir in fact.”
“Ah!” The penny dropped and she grinned. “So that’s why you call him khaaitan. It means leader. Right?” She shrugged and indicated her ear. “My translation matrix doesn’t pick it up. Must be on the fritz.”
Cade smiled. “Nope. It’s not a Latharian word, so the trans-matrices don’t pick it up. And it doesn’t mean leader…” He gave her a funny look. “It means princeling.”
“Princeling?” Her mouth gaped. “Are you telling me that Seren is an alien prince?”
Cade smirked. “Well, to us, you’re the alien, but yes… my brother is the heir to the Vorr bloodline, one of the seven imperial princehoods before the first emperor, Kayan Vorr, went to war and created the Latharian empire.”
She blinked. “Well, fuck.”
Her would-be mate was an actual freaking alien prince.
12
I’m hoping this is a ‘hold that thought’ kind of deal.
Those words tortured Seren all evening as he watched Gracie interacting with his kinsmen. She was beauty and grace, her namesake personified as she spoke to the big, rough Latharians who crowded around her in fascination.
He couldn’t blame them. Hardly any of them had seen a female, not one who looked like they did anyway. Humans were built on a much smaller scale, but apart from the eyes and the glorious colors of their hair, they were still recognizably like the Lathar. Unlike the other females they were forced to use in an attempt to continue their line and ensure they were not the last of the Vorr. It was ironic, he mused, that those of them who had the best success with procreation were not true Vorr. Or perhaps, they were what the Vorr would eventually have become anyway.
He transferred his attention back to Gracie. It had been a risk to bring her here unclaimed, but as long as Cade stayed by her side, stuck to her like glue, Seren could relax and speak to his people. Cade hadn’t scent bonded with her, so he was the safest male to be around her other than Seren himself. He would treat her as a sister, protecting her with the last breath in his body if need be. If any other male tried to approach her, Cade would tear them apart with his bare hands. If Seren didn’t get to them first anyway.
Which meant that Gracie suddenly appearing before him, her face dark and thunderous, took him by surprise. He should have sensed her approach. At the very least, heard Cade’s heavy-footed stride.
“Something you forgot to tell me, asshole? Like the fact you’re a fucking prince?”
Her voice was as thunderous and as pissed off as her expression, anger radiating from her slight frame. He looked past her to Cade, who winced and shrugged in apology.
“No, no, no,” she snapped, looming over him where he sat and poking him in the shoulder. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. If we’re gonna do this mating thing, you can’t fucking lie to me. Understand me?”
He stood in a surge of movement, crowding her.
“Do Earthlings often swear at their princes?” he growled, snapping a hand out to capture her wrist and then hauling her up against him. She gasped, her eyes wide and her little body tense against him.
“I’m Terran,” she sp
at. “No one calls us Earthlings!”
“I’ve been lenient with you, little Terran,” he bit out. “Overruled my natural instinct to take, to claim. But you push me too far. I demand absolute obedience from my subjects and my mate. Understand me?”
Before she could answer, he bent and threw her over his shoulder.
“Wait… what the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice a loud shriek as he strode toward the long hall, scattering clansmen willy-nilly as he went. They weren’t scared of him, not in the same way as they were terrified of Cade, but no leader worth his salt wanted to command through fear. They might not fear him but they did respect him. None of them would ever want to face him in a challenge fight. Particularly not over a female he’d claimed as his own.
“Seren, you great bloody oaf! Put me down before I hurt you!”
She beat at his shoulder with her small fists and he laughed, the sound little more than a bark as he kicked the main doors of the hall open to stride through. His boots rang out against the wooden floor as he stalked across the hall toward the thrones at the end and the doorway beyond.
“You? Hurt me?” He chuckled, sliding his hand over the delicious curves of her ass as they reached her… his rooms. After this, they would be sharing them. He would accept nothing less. Her resistance to their mating ended now. “The reality where that would happen does not exist, little human.”
“You are an utter asshole! You know that?”
He ignored the insult. The more humans, and Gracie in particular, were pushed out of their comfort zones, the more they reacted loudly with insults and curses to push away whatever was bothering them. He wouldn’t allow her to do that with him. He’d let her do that for too long. Not anymore.
The bed loomed large, and he stopped right beside it. Sliding her down the front of his body, he looked down into her eyes. They were the color of the sea during a storm—powerful and tempestuous.