Hardcore Green (3 page)

She was biting her lip in an effort to stifle her cries when he brought one hand to her neck and pulled her down to him. "Sing for me, Sylvain."

Syl gasped as he thrust two fingers into her and the strokes combined with the pressure of his thumb had their entanglement broadcast to anyone within hearing distance.

He continued slow strokes until she ceased to clasp his fingers with pulsing intensity and then he withdrew his hand, bringing it to his lips and tasting her.

"Now, without so many clothes." His voice was husky, the skin of his face tight across his cheekbones and his eyes glittering with intensity.

She knew she was blushing, but she sat up on him and reached behind her neck to release her dress.

The gauzy fabric pooled around her waist, but she didn't have time to feel cool air. Garoz's hands were on her the moment the fabric hit her waist. She leaned her head back as he cupped her breasts and she shifted her hips on him until she was rubbing against the hot ridge under his trousers.

Tension spilled through her and she pressed her hands over his while she enjoyed the moment before she released his hands and started working on the clasp on his trousers. She eased his cock free and heard as well as felt her panties disappear.

Sylvain bit her lip again as she stroked him with intensity, loving the heat as well as the strength in his flesh.

"Put me inside you, sweetling."

She trembled and rose on her knees, positioning him at her slit and rocking her hips to coat him with her moisture. She braced her hands on his chest and eased him into her, inch by inch. She looked at his face and smiled, his chest was heaving, his eyes were narrowed to slits and when she seated herself fully on him, his hands cupped her hips and started to move her before she could find her pace.

His pace started slow and then as cries started to break from her throat with the friction of her clit against his pubic bone, it took on a blinding speed that scorched her with the heat of flesh against flesh.

Broken cries echoed in the room as she got closer and closer to the edge, but when he reached up, pulled her forward and firmly gripped the base of her wings, she came apart.

Searing rainbows burst behind her eyes and her body shook uncontrollably as he arched up into her and shouted his release.

Sylvain had her head on his chest, facing the door when it opened a crack to show the face of the prefect. She kept trying to hold back her breathing, but when the door closed, she let out a chuckle.

"You were right. They did check."

His fingers were stroking her neck. "It is a male reaction. He wanted to make sure that you were not faking your marriage. I believe that we just proved it."

Sylvain lifted her hips and let him slide free of her, she dismounted from him and put the top of her dress back into place. Her dress appeared demure, but she and Garoz were both aware that it was all that stood between her and complete nudity. "There is a lav over there."

She gestured to the panel door and he nodded, leaving her for a moment before returning with a washcloth. "Lift your dress, Sylvain. As much as I like my scent on you, it will be uncomfortable after a few minutes."

Blushing furiously, she lifted the dress to let him clean between her thighs. The cool cloth soothed her, but she was too embarrassed to enjoy it. When he was done, Syl went to the small table and set one tray for him and the water-heavy tray for her.

"There is no need to be embarrassed. I will explain more to you when we are at the carnival, but for now, you only need to know that I will keep anyone from trying to confine or harm you. You will be safe with me." His words were whispered into her neck as he helped her settle on a backless stool.

"I believe you." She smiled. It was true. Nothing he had done had been aggressive or endangered her in any way. Less danger than some of her carnival acts had put her in. A little public sex was not one of her hang-ups. In fact, it was kind of funny to have the prefect poke his head in.

She poured a glass of water and he stopped her. He took her glass, sniffed it and then handed it back to her. "They can't poison me. They need me for a week."

He chuckled. "You have a point. If they could harm me, I am sure they would."

She didn't ask him what he meant by that. If they were being monitored, it would stand out as glaring if she had to ask him why he could not be harmed. She turned to the greens and vegetables that she had been served and concentrated on them.

"So, Syl, what have you been up to since I last saw you?"

So, there was a way to work around it after all. She put a coy tone into her voice. "I forget, how long has it been since you jaunted off for family business? One would have thought you had forgotten your poor wife."

"It was only two months, love." He lifted her hand to his lips and he flashed a wicked smile. "I can remind you of our last time together after the meal. Now, what were you up to?"

"Just the usual, the planting on Osharin, then the next world and now Porvin."

"Did they threaten you when they took you?"

"No, but the guns at the carnival and the cannons aimed at the ships were giveaways that they meant business." She bit a small pod in half viciously. The threat to her people had been her biggest hot button.

"The cannons were still there when Eckobar informed me that you had been taken." His words came in between mouthfuls of food.

"I see. That isn't good. I wish I was back there." She stabbed at her salad and drank half a carafe of water.

"Have you ever considered leaving the carnival?" His casual tone dropped the words between them.

She swallowed and then spluttered as she inhaled the water. "You know very well why I can't."

"Things change, Syl. Things are changing right now." He finished his meal and sat back. "If no one decides to move forward, everyone stays in place."

She was going to snap at him for digging at the topic, but a knock on the door got their attention.

Tenario straightened his shoulders. "Sylvain, you are needed in the fields. The special crop requires your attention."

She felt her face tighten as she stood. She gulped down the other carafe of water and nodded. To her surprise, her sandals were still in place. Even frolicking with Garoz hadn't managed to do more than eradicate her underwear.

When he got to his feet next to her, she took his hand in a move that probably surprised him. She didn't care. She wanted him next to her.

"He can't come."

"He is my husband. He will be at my side." She didn't stomp her foot, but it was implied.

Garoz casually closed his tunic and wrapped his arm around her hips. "It is a sensitive time for her. She is in heat and gets irritable and irrational if I am not nearby."

Tenario scratched his head. "No one has mentioned it before."

"She was still maturing. Her kind takes almost four decades to reach adulthood."

Sylvain fought not to show the shock that ripped through her. Apparently, she was not the only one of her kind Garoz had ever seen. That was going to be pillow talk for the evening if he stayed with her.

Chapter Five

The field of Askuke was suffering. Sylvain left the guards and her man behind to wander through the field. When they had been single-leaf seedlings, she hadn't recognized them for what they were.

The Askuke were deadly to the soil. Not only would they drain the soil, but they also would start a ripple effect that would skew the harvests of the rest of the planet forever. Tenario's kidnapping of her now made sense. The plants absorbed life and their pods were both a narcotic and an effective treatment for infertility. Eating them gave you the life that they took from their planet.

With a daily dose of her talent, the Askuke
might
make it to maturity and the rest of the local growing area
might
make it to harvest. There was no way to be sure.

In a stopgap measure, she sent a burst of her growing energy through the wilting plants. With the waves of energy sucked in by the plants, she didn't know how long she would be able to maintain their growth.

Her feet didn't even enjoy the feel of the soil. There was no life in this field, no joy, no wonder. It was a sucking black hole of greed and need. She didn't think she could fill it.

Tired and emotionally drained by trying to feed this one field, she stomped back to the men waiting for her. "I don't know how long I can do that."

She took a breath for another sentence and pitched forward into Garoz's arms.

* * * *

Garoz caught her and lifted her while being cautious of her wings. "Has this happened before?"

The prefect looked pale and kept darting his gaze to the field. "What? Oh, no. She was tired the first time, but didn't faint."

Hardcore looked down at the female who was legally his wife, a citizen of the Alliance and a free woman. Her lips were chalky and her skin was grey. "What is in that field? It sucked the life out of her."

"It's classified. Bring her back to her room. She will be better after some rest." The hopeful tone was not lost on Garoz.

Porvin was a patriarchy. The husband had full say in his wife's activities and if Garoz put his foot down, Sylvain wouldn't have a chance to say yes or no.

If he guessed correctly about Tenario, the prefect wasn't sure that Garoz knew the rules. When Sylvain woke, they were going to have a talk. If her life was in danger from using her talent, she was going to go into retirement in less than a day.

He carried her through the town, answered the villager's questions about the health of their green queen and in that moment, he understood why Sylvain did this year after year. The looks on the faces of these people showed genuine concern for the woman, not the talent.

When he walked up the steps to her room, he checked her pulse. It was slow but steady. "Bring more water. As much as you can. She needs it to bond properly to your planet, or did no one tell you?"

Tenario swallowed. "She mentioned it, but I thought she was being difficult."

Garoz snarled, kicked the door closed behind him and he took her to the bed. The maids must have tidied up the moment that they left, the pillows were fluffed and the blankets were neat.

He carefully laid her down on her stomach and started to massage her wings. They were stronger than they first appeared. He could see metallic strands in the veining of the huge panels.

As he rubbed and stroked the wings, they swivelled in their ball joints and he slowly folded them against her back.

He grinned as he worked the wings into a column down her back. He had heard of Vorwings before, but had never seen one. The dot on the inside of her ankle had sparked a memory in him from a species he had learned of in Kozue legend.

Vorwings always bred true, but they never mixed with their own kind. The small mark just under her calf was the hidden spur that ancient Vorwings used during mating flights. The female would latch onto the male in midair and that is where mating would take place. When their frivolous attitudes blocked them from entry in the Alliance, they were turned into a slave species.

Without constant exposure to their own kind, they died out. Less than a dozen had been reported in the last nine years and he had fallen head over heels with her before he had seen more than her picture.

The woman under his hands was one of a dying race and he was here to make sure that she would not be the last of her line.

He grinned. His sister would be the hardest thing for her to adjust to in the life that he had planned. Since Gralial had lost her soul, she could no longer enjoy life, but she would be able to be a good friend to Sylvain when they would meet. First, he had to convince his Vorwing to leave the carnival, then he would arrange her introduction to his family.

Station 13 needed a plant specialist and her talent fit the bill.

* * * *

Someone was rubbing her wings carefully and with strength. She tried to mutter into the pillow, but he quickly rolled her to her side the moment she flicked one of her wings.

"Get up, Syl. Time to get you some water."

He left her while she pushed to a sitting position. "You folded my wings. No one ever knows how to fold my wings."

"I am a Kozue warrior trained in battlefield medical treatment and my sister is also a very powerful healer. She taught me a few things." His grin warmed her and the water he held was ambrosia to her dry throat.

"I can see that. Why are you and your sister talents? Don't the Kozue forbid that kind of thing?"

"Throwback genes, I suppose. Gralial and I were never given a chance to investigate it. And lately, I have been too busy."

"Rescuing damsels is a hobby of yours?" Her lips twitched.

"One that I will retire."

There was a subtext there that she almost missed, but she muttered, "Thank goodness for that."

He grinned and stroked her hair away from her face while she slugged down the water. "How long is your hair anyway?"

"Past my knees. We haven't been able to find a substance to cut it. It seems to be similar in construction to my wings." She flicked them slightly and smiled at how neatly they were folded. He had not tried to force them at all.

"What caused you to faint?"

She gulped and coughed in surprise. "Tenario didn't tell you he was growing Askuke? It is why he needed me to start with."

Her words shocked him, she could tell. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "Be very sure of this. He has planted Askuke hybrids?"

"He has."

"Then you are not safe here." He stood. "Damn, I thought we had more time."

The glint of the metal bands inside his wealth of dark hair caught her attention for a moment. He transformed from a charmingly confident male to one of deadly intent as she watched.

"Finish drinking that other carafe and prepare to join me. We are getting out of here." He paced restlessly, stalking back and forth like an animal.

"And where will we go? The carnival is under guard." She gathered her vids and satchel in a quick sweep. She bolted the water down and burped delicately. "What now?"