Pairing with the Protector: A Kindred Tales Novel (Brides of the Kindred)

by Evangeline Anderson

  “What? Why not?” Whitney demanded.

  “He just not pretty enough.” Dood flipped his hair again, preening a little. “I mean, she might bring him to compete in the agility category—or if she thought you were so attached to him you’d pine away and ruin your looks without him. But that’s the only way I can imagine her bringing that guy to a show.”

  “Okay, well how do we make that happen?” Whitney said, ignoring the growl rising in the back of Rafe’s throat as he glared at Dood. “How do we get Rafe and me into the same cage and out of this house—tell us, Dood.”

  His forehead wrinkled.

  “Well, first you have to prove you’re a mated pair. I don’t know why you didn’t do that in the first place, when she placed you in the matching pen.”

  “Because, as we explained earlier, we are from a completely different galaxy with no prior knowledge of your customs,” Rafe pointed out impatiently.

  “Oh, yeah.” Dood nodded. “Sorry—forgot about that for a minute.” He shook his head. “I’ve been sniffing too much happy tweedle weed lately, you know?”

  “Sniffing what?” Rafe demanded.

  “I think I know what he’s talking about,” Whitney said, thinking of the large round ball with slits in it that emitted the strange aroma that made her giggly. “It’s like catnip only for humans.”

  Rafe frowned. “Catnip?”

  “Never mind—I’ll tell you later,” she said, waving a hand impatiently. “The main thing is, we need to find out how to act like a ‘mated pair’ the next time we get a chance to be in the matching pen together.”

  “I don’t know if you will get a chance,” Dood said, frowning. “I mean, you might since the littlest Tusker brought you in together. But Mama Tusker also might try to match you with one of the Mindless Ones.” He nodded ominously at the two males Whitney had passed on her way to Rafe’s cage. “Neither one of them is going to stop, no matter how much you yell,” he went on. “They don’t know the meaning of the word—literally.”

  Whitney felt a cold chill go down her spine. She’d been trying not to think about this possibility and had done a pretty good job of putting it out of her mind up until this moment. But now the fear came rushing back until she felt sick with it.

  “Oh my God,” she muttered. “That’s horrible! What am I going to do?”

  “Run,” Rafe said at once, squeezing her arm. “Get out of here while you can, Whitney. You’re free of your cage—do as he did and wait by the front door of the domicile until it opens. Then get back to the ship as quickly as you can.”

  “And do what?” Whitney put a hand on her hip. “Just sit there? I don’t know how to pilot the damned thing or did you forget that? Besides, I’m not just going to leave you.”

  “You could find my blaster—I dropped it in the grass when the child knocked me over grabbing for you,” Rafe argued. “It might be powerful enough to hold off one of these ‘Tuskers’ as Dood calls the blue aliens.”

  “And it might not—we’re talking about fighting a creature as big as a building,” Whitney pointed out. “Besides, wouldn’t I be at just as much risk of being…” She swallowed hard before she could continue. “Being raped outside the house as I am in here? Remember that we saw some wild Mindless Ones, out by the ship. What if one of the males attacks me while I’m feeling around naked in the grass for your blaster?”

  A low noise of frustration rose from Rafe’s throat.

  “But if you stay here, you are certain to be attacked.” Grasping her arms, he looked intently into her eyes. “Please, mon’dalla, you do not know what it does to me to see you in danger and not be able to help you. I thought my heart would burst when this bastard attacked you!” He spared a glare for Dood before looking back at her. “Please—just go.”

  “I can’t just leave you!” Whitney protested. “I can’t—”

  But at that moment the dim light in the lower level brightened considerably and a heavy tread could be heard coming down the ramp.

  “All right, my little darlings?” a deep, familiar voice sing-songed as Mama Tusker came closer. “Just thought I’d come check on my new little tweedles before bedtime.”

  Whitney looked around wildly, but she knew there was no way in hell she could get back to her cage and close the door before the huge alien got to them. It was too far away and much too dangerous to run on the narrow walkway that led back.

  Mama Tusker was coming and she was trapped.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Quick! Get back to your cage!” Rafe exclaimed, but even as he said it, he knew there was no way for Whitney to get back in time. The way was too narrow and dangerous for her to run it and even if she did, the mother alien’s monstrous strides were eating up the ground between them—she would doubtless see Whitney attempting to escape and snatch her up before she could get to any kind of safety.

  “No, don’t run,” Dood hissed from the next cage. “I think I have an idea—we might be able to work this to your advantage.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rafe demanded, keeping his voice low. At any moment the huge blue alien would appear and they could not be seen communicating when she did.

  “Listen quickly.” The other male’s eyes were wide and earnest. “The Mindless Ones match for life and when they do, if you take one away from the other, they pine for each other.”

  “So?” Whitney was keeping a nervous eye on the bottom of the ramp as Mama Tusker descended. “What does that mean to us?”

  “It means you have to pine for your man,” Dood told her. “Look, she already knows that cage she put you in can be gotten out of by a “smart” tweedle. So if she sees that you got out, she’ll just think you’re really intelligent. And if you act like you’re missing the big guy over here…” He jabbed a thumb in Rafe’s direction. “Then she’ll probably assume you’re a matched pair after all.”

  “Do you really think so?” Whitney asked eagerly.

  Dood nodded. “Yeah, I do. But you two have got to play the part this time—you’ve got to act like a matched pair.”

  “How in the Seven Hells are we supposed to do that?” Rafe demanded in a low, frustrated growl. The idiot kept forgetting they were not from his home planet and didn’t know the customs of his people. “How do we—?”

  But just at that moment, the Mama alien came into view, her mountain-sized head bending down to peer at the cages.

  Whitney gave a muted gasp and reached through the bars to clutch at Rafe. He seized her back, putting his arms around her as well as the thick bars between them would allow and drawing her as close as he could.

  Let me keep her safe. Please, let me somehow keep her safe! he thought desperately. It wasn’t exactly a prayer—but it wasn’t far from one either, though he doubted there was anyone to hear it.

  Mama Tusker’s broad, lipless mouth turned down into a frown as she saw Whitney out of her cage and reaching through the bars to cling to Rafe.

  “Well, well—aren’t you a smart little tweedle?” she rumbled, reaching out to pluck Whitney from his grasp with her trunk. “Almost as smart as my sweet little Silky.”

  Whitney made inarticulate noises of grief and terror and held onto Rafe as long as she could. He, in turn, reached for her desperately. It was no act—he needed to hold onto her and keep her safe. He was driven almost mad by the feeling of having her torn from his arms.

  “My, my…” Their display was not lost on the mother alien. Her vast brow furrowed as she watched the two of them. “Maybe the two of you are a matched pair after all. Should I give you one more chance to prove it?”

  Rafe wanted to shout, “Yes!” at the top of his voice, but of course he couldn’t do that. He could only continue to reach for Whitney while she, in turn, reached longingly for him.

  After watching them for a moment, the mother alien seemed to make a decision.

  “All right—one more chance then,” she said and put Whitney back into the large middle cage which she had called the matchin
g pen. Then, just as quickly, she opened the door to Rafe’s cage and plucked him out as well, setting him carefully in the cage beside Whitney.

  “All right now,” she rumbled, watching them closely. “Let’s see if the two of you are a matched pair or not.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Whitney rushed into Rafe’s arms, not caring a bit that she was naked this time. His hard, broad chest felt like safety as she pressed herself against him and the warm, spicy scent of his skin which always reminded her of leather and the forest at night, along with some exotic but completely masculine scent she couldn’t name, filled her senses.

  His arms came around her like iron bands, crushing her to him and he buried his face in her hair, murmuring her name.

  “Whitney…oh gods, mon’dalla. I thought I’d lost you. Oh Gods…”

  “Rafe.” She pressed against him, quivering. “Oh Rafe, I never want to be separated from you again!”

  “And you won’t, if I have anything to say about it.” His voice was a low, dangerous growl and she saw that he was looking over her head at the vast blue face of Mama Tusker as she looked into the matching cage.

  “Well, it’s clear you’re glad to see each other,” she rumbled in that deep bounders-crashing-downhill voice of hers. “But that doesn’t really prove anything—you might just be siblings of some kind, for all your coloring is so different.”

  “Oh no!” Fear made Whitney’s throat tight. “She thinks we’re siblings, not a matched pair,” she whispered urgently to Rafe. “Quick—we have to prove her wrong!”

  “But how?” he muttered back, frowning down at her. “How do we convince her that we’re mates instead of siblings? That idiot Dood never told us.”

  Because he hadn’t gotten a chance before Mama Tusker had come down to the lower level, Whitney remembered. But suddenly a little voice spoke up in her head.

  Maybe he didn’t tell you, but he did show you. Think about it, Whitney—what did he try to do when she first put him in the cage with you?

  Suddenly she understood what they had to do.

  “Quickly,” she whispered to Rafe, who was still looking down at her in uncertainty. “Suck my nipples.”

  “What?” It was a whispered shout and his golden eyes went wide, as though he wasn’t certain he’d heard her right.

  “I said, suck my nipples!” Whitney hissed at him. “It’s what Dood tried to do when she put him in the cage with me. And it was what that feral male did to the feral female out by the ship,” she pointed out. Of course, the feral male and female had done a hell of a lot more than just that together, but she was hoping none of the rest of it would be necessary.

  “I should not…” Rafe growled uncertainly. “I am sworn to protect you and never molest you.”

  “Well, if you want to protect me you’re going to have to molest me—at least a little,” Whitney insisted softly. Then the improbability of the situation tickled her funny bone and she had to push down a fit of hysterical giggles that rose in her throat like bubbles in champagne. Instead, she reached up on tiptoes and grabbed for his wild black hair. Tugging on it, she urged him down. “Come on—she’s watching. There’s no time to lose!”

  Rafe took one last look at the frowning alien face hovering like an anxious moon outside the cage and appeared to decide she was right.

  “Very well,” he growled. “But only because there is no other way—this is not proper. You know it is not.”

  Slowly, stiffly, he sank to his knees before her and wrapped his arms around her waist. This position put his mouth just on the level of her bare breasts and before Whitney could say anything else to urge him on, he had sucked her right nipple into his hot mouth and was drawing urgently on her sensitive tip.

  Whitney gasped and arched her back, burying her fingers in his hair. Before, when Dood had tried this on her, she’d felt violated and terrified. But the experience was completely different with Rafe.

  Instead of feeling frightened and attacked, she felt safety in the big Kindred’s arms—but more than that, she also felt desire.

  Maybe it was his warm, wild scent in her nose or maybe it was the feeling of being in the arms of her Protector—a male who she knew would die to keep her safe if need be.

  Or maybe it’s just that you’ve been horny for him from the first minute you met him, whispered a naughty little voice in her head. Because let’s be honest girl—tell the truth and shame the devil as Grandma Washington used to say—you’ve been wanting to jump your bodyguard’s bones from day one.

  Not that she was going to do any bone-jumping right now, she reminded herself hazily. After all, they were just doing this so Mama Tusker would let them stay together. They were only putting on a show.

  But if that was true, then why was her whole body reacting so strongly to this little “display?” Why was her pussy throbbing between her thighs, so hot and wet she had to spread her legs to ease the intense pressure she felt there? And why was she running her fingers through Rafe’s hair and moaning for more, pressing her breasts out to meet his seeking mouth, writhing naked and shameless against him, desperate for more of his hot mouth on her sensitive nipples?

  The big Kindred took her up on her unspoken invitation, going back and forth between her berry-dark tips, sucking and lapping each in turn, sending sparks of pleasure straight down to her swollen pussy with each deep pull of his hot mouth on her tender peaks. As he drew back for a breath and looked up at her, his chest heaving with emotion, his golden eyes blazing with desire.

  “Gods, mon’dalla, I had no idea your nipples would taste so sweet,” he growled hoarsely, keeping his voice low. “Do you think we’ve convinced her yet?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Whitney breathed, barely even bothering to look at Mama Tusker. Normally she would never have acted this way in front of an audience. But she found she was so hot, she didn’t care about privacy anymore—she didn’t care about anything but Rafe and getting closer to him. “You…you’d better do some more,” she told him breathlessly. “And step it up a little—really make her think we’re together.”

  His golden eyes went half-lidded with desire.

  “As you wish, mon’dalla. Give me your breasts and spread your legs for me—I will prove that you are mine.”

  Those words spoken in his low, possessive voice sent a shiver of pure lust down Whitney’s spine. Pressing her left nipple to his seeking mouth, she spread her thighs as he had ordered and waited for whatever was coming next.

  Rafe sucked her tight point deep into his mouth and then she felt one large, warm hand cupping between her legs. An image flashed in her brain—the feral male out by the ship thrusting his fingers deep into the feral female’s sex as she moaned and writhed against him.

  “Yes,” she whispered to Rafe, parting a little more for him. “God, yes, Rafe—do it!”

  He didn’t need any more encouragement. With a soft groan in the back of his throat, he parted her pussy lips and slipped two long, strong fingers into her heated inner folds.

  Whitney gasped as he rubbed over her swollen clit and then moaned aloud as the fingers found the entrance to her pussy and thrust deep inside her, hitting bottom as he slid all the way home.

  “Yes!” she hissed, bucking against him, her sudden move helping him press even deeper into her. “God, yes!”

  Her only answer was a slow, steady pumping as he began to work his fingers in an out of her, and the deep drawing of his mouth on her breast.

  “Mmmm!” Whitney writhed against him, feeling her pleasure mount as he finger-fucked her steadily. Even as he did, the broad pad of his thumb had found the button of her clit and was making slow swipes back and forth while he thrust into her.

  God, never in her wildest fantasies had she imagined such a strange but completely erotic scenario with her Protector! But since it was happening, she was determined to enjoy every minute of it. Live for the moment was her motto and she was certainly living for this one.

  Almost
before she knew it, Whitney felt her pleasure building to a peak. The heat and wetness of Rafe’s mouth on her tender nipples and the slow, deep fucking as he breached her pussy with his fingers was too much. With a low cry of pure need, she felt herself coming—coming so hard her knees gave out and she would have toppled over if Rafe’s arm hadn’t tightened around her waist, bearing her up against the onslaught of pleasure.

  “Oh…Ohhh!” she moaned, her eyes clenched tightly closed, completely forgetting about their alien audience. “Oh, yes!”

  Luckily she was calling out in English, which must have sounded enough like random sounds to Mama Tusker that she suspected nothing. But when Whitney’s eyes fluttered open and she saw those huge black eyes watching her, she gasped and tightened up at once. Somehow in the heat of the moment, she’d forgotten all about the enormous alien mother watching them. To be reminded that they weren’t all alone was shocking and not very nice at all.

  “Um…Rafe?” she hissed, tapping him rapidly on the shoulder.

  He looked up, his golden eyes almost drugged with pleasure—the pleasure of pleasuring her, Whitney realized. God, she’d heard that the Kindred always put their women’s satisfaction above their own but she’d never seen it in action before. He looked like he’d gotten more out of touching and fingering her than he would have if she’d given him a blow job—which was hard to believe, considering he was male. But still, that was definitely the impression she got.

  “Forgive me, mon’dalla,” he growled hoarsely, pulling away from her nipples at last. “I…forgot myself in the beauty of your body.”

  “That’s all right. I kind of forgot myself too,” Whitney whispered, feeling guilty when she thought of the screaming orgasm she’d just had, completely heedless of their alien audience. “Um…do you think we’ve done enough to prove we’re a matched pair?” she murmured, casting a sidelong glance at Mama Tusker.

  “Difficult to tell.” Rafe was looking at her as well. But the big black eyes were watching them with a look that was unreadable.