Secrets of a Reckless Princess (11 page)

Jayla, naked and lush, rose on one elbow, shaking back her silky hair. “Damon.”

“You said you were hungry.”

Physically satisfied, Marc found he was hungry himself, but also amused. Were they rivals, Le Clerc would be a force to face with caution, but luckily, they were not rivals at all but shared not only the most beautiful female on Anasta, but also a common purpose.

“I’ll feed you.” Damon set the tray on the bed on the other side of Jayla’s reclining body, between her and Marc, and with deliberate purpose, picked up a small piece of cherry red fruit and offered it between his fingertips. He grinned. “You’re going to need your strength. Open up, Jay.”

“I can feed my—”

He interrupted her as he leaned down. “Don’t argue with me for once in our lifetime. Now, open up.”

Marc laughed and reached for the wine bottle. “I’ll pour.”

* * * *

The fruit was a more brilliant shade than the soft pink of Jayla’s lips, but it reminded him of the texture and taste. Soft, silky, and delicious. Damon lightly rubbed the offering along the line of her lower lip and then slipped it into her mouth, the entire time aware of her eyes, so emerald green it was startling at times, her body still lax in the aftermath of sexual intercourse.

“Eating can be a very sensual experience,” he told her, not able to keep a slight hoarseness out of his voice. “Let me show you.”

While Marc watched, his expression amused but still very interested, Damon fed her alternately the sweet fruit, all gathered from the palace gardens and not only fresh, but perfectly ripe, alternating with a morsel of salty cheese, the varieties from the farms on Anasta, some creamy soft and white, others veined with yellow and pungent. After each mouthful, Damon offered Jayla a sip of wine.

Should he tell her he’d always had a fantasy about a moment like this? When he had her in bed, when she was so beautifully naked, her hair loose, her slender body available while he hand-fed her a romantic dinner…

No, she had enough power over him already, whether she knew it or not.

The tip of her tongue brushed his finger as he fed her a berry, and whether or not it was on purpose, his body tightened. “You aren’t eating,” she said, her voice hushed, her lashes lowered minutely.

“Later.” Food was not the most important thing on his mind at the moment.

“I recognize that particular smile. It reminds me of all the times when you’d suggest a course of action that landed us in trouble.”

He grinned and with a fingertip brushed the corner of her mouth to catch a stray crumb. “If I recall correctly, I wasn’t the one who suggested we should hijack a small transport and fly it over to the Talisman Sea.”

She had the grace to look guilty, but retorted, “
I
wasn’t the one who crashed it.”

“
I
didn’t know how to fly it.” He shrugged. “It’s a miracle we weren’t both hurt badly.”

“I’ve flown one of those small transports,” Marc murmured in easy camaraderie. “It’s not as easy as it looks. I’d say it’s a miracle you were able to get away with it at all.”

“I know you are a diplomat but please do not feed his arrogance,” Jayla interjected, but a smile twitched her mouth. “It is bad enough as it is.”

Jayla’s new consort, Damon noted, just laughed, but who could blame him? He was probably one of the most satisfied males on the planet. She was particularly delectable naked and disheveled, and considering how beautiful she was all the time, that was very delicious indeed.

For dessert they’d been given some of the soft clear gelatin that was a specialty on Anasta. It tasted like the finest chocolate from Earth, but more delicate, and had the consistency of a whipped cream. “I’m going to ignore the criticism, but maybe you can feed me in another way, Jay.” Damon picked up the bowl, took a spoon, and then gently pushed her to her back, scooping out a measure of the dessert and dribbling it over the curve of one breast.

She was new to the games males and females played together in a sexual way, and Jayla merely looked at him uncertainly. But she made a very satisfying sound when he leaned forward and began to lick the sticky sweetness away in long, wicked glides of his tongue.

The saltiness of her damp skin mingled with the creamy texture and taste of the gelatin was even more arousing and he wasn’t sure it was possible to
be
more aroused. He moved his lips and tongue against the soft, enticing underside of her breast before taking the straining nipple into his mouth. And while he feasted, his hand slipped between her legs, finding the sleek wetness of her female passage with questing, exploring fingers as he hid a secret smile over her short, but oh-so telling moan in response.

“Jay.” He lightly nipped her nipple with his teeth and lifted his head, removing his hand. “You haven’t had dessert yet.”

Before she could say anything, he picked up the spoon again, dipped out a generous portion of the mixture and, in a half-reclining position, poured it over the rigid length of his cock, coating the tip and sides in sensuous motions of the utensil in his hand.

She looked slightly shocked.

But just as intrigued, her gaze fixed on his surging, now glistening erection.

The irrefutable edge he had on Le Clerc was how well he knew her. There was no question in his mind as Jayla started to discover sexual freedom that she would be curious and not inclined to disdain exploring the boundaries. She sat up, shook back her hair, and briefly their gazes locked, his challenging and amused.

Then she shifted to her knees and bent over his reclining form, her mouth tentatively hovering over the crest of his cock, before she touched her tongue to the tip in a slow swirl.

The balance of power shifted abruptly.

Damon felt as if his chest was caving in, the sensation of her mouth touching him enough his muscles weakened and he groaned. The sight of her, the long silk of her pale hair trailing over her back, one hand braced next to his thigh as she slowly began to suck his cock, was almost too much. He managed to catch his breath, but only just, and though she was hesitant and hardly skilled at what she was doing for the first time, it was still the singularly most erotic encounter of his lifetime so far.

Because this was Jayla and he’d been waiting for her so very long...

Breathing raggedly as the pleasure escalated, he waited until it was almost too late to thread his fingers into her hair and tug her head up just before he exploded, and when he rolled her over with an abruptness he might not normally have used, he was gratified to have her arms wind around his neck and hear his name said in a breathless exhale against his cheek.

In urgent need, he shifted so he could part her legs with intemperate insistence, his penetration so unrestrained he feared for a moment he’d hurt her until she tightened her grip on his biceps and whispered fiercely, “Don’t you dare stop moving…oh…oh.”

She was reckless, his beautiful princess, but he’d known that his entire life. “Fly with me again, Jay,” he whispered in her ear, moving now easily in her receptive body, every sigh like a touch of flame, “and let’s crash together.”

She met him, as she always had, on equal ground, taking but giving, and at the moment the white-hot pinnacle soared, she clung to him with the same intensity of trust that had brought them together their entire lives. She plummeted first, and he followed, wanting to be there to buffer the fall, and his orgasm was so overwhelming Damon could only shudder against her and within her until they were both lax and speechless in the chaotic aftermath.

At first he didn’t even realize the security sirens had begun to peal.

It was Marc who bolted to his feet and said, “What the hell is that?”

Chapter Ten

The engineers had found the device linked to the door that opened the main commons area by the courtyard, and to Jayla, it made no sense.

“If you want to kill a lot of people, why put it here?” she asked, glancing at her mother who was a little pale but as regal as ever, standing close by with her chin lifted and her gaze steady on the slow and meticulous progress of the workers assigned to remove the explosives.

“Good question.” Her mother transferred her regard to her. “Now that the direct threat is over, come with me. Alone.”

Both Marc and Damon looked as if they wanted to object, or at the least join them, but a single royal glance quelled any comments they might make, and that alone amused Jayla enough she meekly followed her mother from the room.

Once a queen, always a queen. Maybe it was a good lesson to learn with two intractable males in her life.

They went to the family apartments, so familiar Jayla could walk the corridors blindfolded, and when her mother waved her into the sitting room, used only for meditation or the most private of personal conversations, Jayla chose a comfortable corner chair.

No one was invited into this sanctum lightly. The discussion was going to be weighty.

Very well. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been expecting it ever since she’d accepted Marc Kartel as her consort. Her mother had been supportive, but then again, she had hadn’t advised her one way or the other.

Kartel was best for Anasta and that was all that mattered.

“In light of what is happening now here on this planet, not to mention this latest threat to the Federation, I thought we should talk.” Her mother moved to fill two glasses with cool amber liquid from a nearby table that held glasses and a decanter. “Tell me about Kartel’s son. To be truthful, I wasn’t so sure you would move that direction if I pushed you to accept him, but since you have, as a queen I am pleased. As a mother I would like to hear your feelings now that he is your mate.”

By mate she meant now he was her lover in a physical sense. Jayla fought a blush over the personal nature of the question. “Marc is…more than acceptable.”

“He’s quite a handsome male, isn’t he?” She proffered a glass. “Reminds me of his father.”

“I’ve never met the Governor.” Jayla took the drink and the first sip was both soothing and mellow.

“He’s…interesting, like his son.”

Was Marc interesting? Yes, of course he was, with his mesmerizing eyes and chestnut brown hair, not to mention the tender skill of his touch. “I liked him at once,” Jayla admitted.

“I noticed.” Her mother sat back down in the carved chair behind her desk and looked at her thoughtfully over the rim of her glass. “You have always gone your own way. If he hadn’t appealed to you, there would not have been a marriage. What of Damon?”

That was a very direct question, but then again, her mother tended to be straightforward. Jayla considered her answer carefully. Damon was always a volatile subject. “I think he will do well on the Council. You were right in supporting his appointment and I know Marc agrees.”

“I also believe he will be valuable though he wasn’t the easiest candidate I have ever supported. But, darling…that is not what I meant. Both Raphael and I have been worried over how he would take your alliance with another male.”

Considering what she and Damon had been doing just before the palace alarms went off, Jayla was fairly sure he was just fine with her marriage. What would not have been possible for the two of them before Marc was now an option. “It isn’t an issue.”

“I see.” Her mother settled back, a faint look of amusement on her face. “I rather thought that might be the case. Kartel is just as intelligent as I thought he was to share you so willingly.”

“He and Damon are not at all alike, and yet…”—Jayla searched for the right words—“…and yet they complement each other in many ways. Marc is naturally more diplomatic—almost everyone is more diplomatic than Damon—but Damon is so passionate about the same causes that concern Marc that their disparate personalities do not seem to be a conflict.”

“Nor are you?”