Roping Savannah

by Jory Strong

  * * * * *

  “I’ve got to check in with the captain this morning,” Savannah said, rolling to her side and running her finger along the seam of Kye’s lips, a fresh pool of lust forming in her belly, rippling through her womb and breasts at the sight of his sleep-tousled features.

  He opened his eyes and sucked her finger into his mouth, biting down on its tip and sending a lash of heat to her nipples and clit so that she clamped her legs together in response.

  Sensual promise flared in his eyes. Masculine confidence.

  He rubbed his tongue over the end of her finger, making her shiver with memories of how that same tongue had swirled over her clit, teasing it, striking it until she’d come.

  Yesterday had been a blur of sex. And the day before… From the moment she’d gotten back from her trip to town and he’d held her against the side of the truck, it had been one orgasm after another.

  Amusement rushed through her when she thought about the clothing she’d gotten for Kye. How it was still bagged in the front seat of the truck because he appeared to be a born nudist.

  He hadn’t bothered getting dressed even when they were out of bed, or off the floor, or not on the couch, or… Well, even when they’d been outside looking at stars and identifying the different constellations, he’d stayed naked.

  She grinned. Not that she objected. The man was gorgeous.

  “What are you thinking?” Kye asked, his arm snaking over and pulling her against him. Laughter threatening to escape though he knew her mirth was most likely directed at him.

  He’d never imagined how important it would be to have a mate with a sense of humor. Never considered it in his dealings with the opposite sex. He had merely enjoyed them, as they had enjoyed him. Their Ylan stones and the lack of the Vesti mating fever telling them it was a temporary liaison. And in truth, he had rarely risked burrowing into their hot, wet feminine sheaths.

  There was no birth control on his world. Pregnancy almost always led to a permanent bonding because there was no guarantee for either the male or the female that another pairing would yield a child. Even before the Hotaling virus, the birth of children was a revered event. A blessing bestowed.

  Kye buried his face in Savannah’s hair, his arms tightening around her as visions of her swelling with their children filled him.

  The Vesti were a physical race and he was no inexperienced male. The ritzca oil created and produced by the Araqiel clan-house aided in taking a woman’s back entrance, heightening the need and lubricating the tight muscles so the pain and pleasure of penetration blended into unbelievable ecstasy for both the male and female.

  Kye’s cock throbbed with images of taking Savannah in that manner. Of preparing her for the binding ceremony where she would be claimed by both of her mates at the same time.

  Love and fierce passion cascaded through him. Chased by the nearly overwhelming terror that had followed him from San Francisco.

  How could he give her up if the male whose claim was sanctioned by Council law wanted another as a co-mate?

  The pain and fear lingered until her wet tongue swirled over his nipple, making him gasp as his cock pulsed, smearing a measure of his semen on her abdomen as well as his.

  He felt her smile against his chest, groaned when her teeth grasped his nipple, the link between it and his penis a burning hot wire of excruciating need.

  “Savannah!”

  She laughed, reducing him to helplessness and driving all thought from his mind by taking his shaft in her hand, pumping, brushing her thumb over the slick tip as her mouth and teeth and tongue worked his nipple.

  The mix of pain and pleasure, sensation, swamped him, filled him until he shouted, shuddering and jerking as hot seed blasted through his cock, their bodies so tightly melded his release splashed across his stomach and struck the underside of her breasts. The intensity of what he felt for her very nearly reducing him to tears.

  She had become his world.

  With a final kiss to his chest, Savannah untangled herself from Kye and sat up. “I’m hitting the shower, Batman, alone and before this stuff dries or we’ll never get out of here.”

  He laughed, making her heart soar, filling it with an emotion she was afraid was love. Not that she was opposed to love, but something was bothering him. Something she needed to get out in the open.

  At times there was an almost desperate quality to their lovemaking. Not an I haven’t been laid in years so now I have to make up for lost time kind of desperation, but a this might be all the time we have together kind of intensity. And yet…what was she supposed to make of that sense of desperation in the face of his claims and demands that she belonged to him?

  Savannah sighed. Men. Put on this Earth to drive women crazy in one way or another.

  She took her shower and then dressed, lingered over memories of the last few days, even as she accepted what had to be done next.

  She’d let him shower first. She’d fix something to eat. Then while they were eating, she’d ask the tough questions. And she wouldn’t stop asking them until she had answers.

  Maybe she’d hate the answers. Maybe they’d hurt and disillusion her. But she’d rather hear the truth up front and figure out what to do about it than have this thing with Kye turn into a sad country song about loneliness and heartbreak.

  Chapter Eight

  Draigon paused in the act of sitting down, the chimes sounding throughout the living quarters of his parents’ home and announcing a visitor. You are expecting someone? he asked his father.

  No. A tortured sigh escaped as his father looked at the Fett board they had only just finished setting up in preparation for spending most of the day pitted against each another.

  It is better to be interrupted now than after the game starts, Draigon said, smiling, already knowing what his father’s next words would be.

  As long as our guest is not longwinded.

  Draigon laughed. If Mother were here, she would scold you for a lack of hospitality. Lucky for you, she and Zantara are at the market. I will see to our unexpected visitor and endeavor to hurry them along. He left the table, using the Ylan stones in his wristbands to send a command so the solid-appearing crystal wall reabsorbed a portion of itself and formed an opening.

  Greetings, Cousin, Jeqon said, watching surprised welcome give way to wariness, seeing the exact moment Draigon remembered he was a Council scientist, one assigned to Earth and the finding of human bond-mates. May I enter?

  Of course. Draigon stepped back to allow Jeqon into the living quarters before extending his arms, grasping Jeqon’s forearms so their bands touched in traditional greeting.

  Draigon’s father joined them at the doorway, also greeting Jeqon in the traditional manner, asking as he did so, You have come on Council business? You have come with news of a match?

  Yes.

  I will summon the others.

  No, Uncle. I would speak with Draigon privately first.

  Draigon’s father stiffened. Courtesy demanded he say, I will leave the two of you to your discussion then, but when their eyes met, Draigon saw his father’s desire to remain and learn about the human bond-mate, to openly discuss which of the Vesti might make a suitable co-mate. If any would know, it would be Jeqon.

  Jeqon had many friends among the Vesti. And was now assigned to Earth, where he had gained a deeper understanding of the humans.

  Those qualifications were enough for Draigon to value Jeqon’s opinion in its own right. But for his father, it was also important that Jeqon was a member of the Lahatiel clan-house. That Jeqon’s uncle, Raym, sat on the Council.

  For a moment Draigon hesitated, very nearly asked his father to stay. But in the end he said nothing and his father left the dwelling.

  Draigon led Jeqon to the table where the strategy game which was to have provided hours of entertainment now waited for his father and one of his brothers. He wondered at his cousin’s hesitation. At the need to speak privately about a matter that affected all in
the Baraqijal clan-house. You have found a match for me? Draigon prompted, uneasiness filling him at Jeqon’s continued delay.

  “Yes, her name is Savannah Holden,” Jeqon said, changing to the human form of communication. Deciding it was better suited to both the topic and the care required in order to navigate through the minefield of this particular conversation.

  He studied the game on the table between them, a strategy game somewhat similar to the chess game on Earth, though much more complicated with its expandable three-dimensional board and the pieces representing not only archetypes but natural hazards and enemy fortifications.

  Fett was popular on Belizair and he knew the rudiments of how to play, but he was not drawn to it. Especially not with the intensity the bounty hunters seemed to be. If he was successful in pressing Kye’s suit, in convincing Draigon to accept Kye as a co-mate, both men would have this game in common and Jeqon knew many a deep and lasting friendship had been forged over a Fett board.

  He sighed inwardly and ran the tip of his finger over a sculpted game piece of golden Ylan stone. At the moment he felt the task in front of him would require all the strategy and finesse of a master Fett player. Savannah’s friendship with Krista and Draigon’s with Adan were a great advantage. But it would require careful handling if he hoped to get Draigon to look past his long-standing dislike of Lyan and accept Kye on his own merits.

  Jeqon said a silent prayer to the Goddess and her consort, asking them to aid him. So much was at stake, not just for Kye and Savannah and Draigon, but for all those on Belizair.

  Hadn’t he experienced firsthand how dangerously close ancient prejudices and grudges were to rising to the surface? To returning their world to those long-ago days when Vesti and Amato warred with one another. Hadn’t he been on the receiving end of hostile looks and angry outbursts from both his uncle Raym and his sister, Zantara, for his continued friendship with those of the Araqiel clan-house, the Vesti house that had unknowingly brought the Hotaling virus to Belizair?

  If those on his world were to survive the threat of extinction, then the baggage of the past had to be lost. The distance between the two races closed forever. The first children would soon be born and Jeqon was proud to have played a part in finding a solution for the unmated males of Belizair.

  “It is not common for Council scientists to involve themselves beyond matching a human female to a male on Belizair and notifying the male of his good fortune,” Jeqon finally said, Draigon’s stiffening at the words good fortune making Jeqon frown and question, “Was your DNA included in the database of those seeking a match by mistake?”

  Draigon forced himself to relax. “I had thought there would be more time to get used to the idea of a human mate and a Vesti co-mate. To prepare. My brothers submitted their DNA when the first pregnancies were announced.” He squared his shoulders. He was committed to this course and he would see it through. “Tell me about this Earth female, Savannah.”

  “I can show you a picture of her. I think you will be pleased to learn her hair is the deep red of a Sarien fire crystal.”

  Some of the tension eased from Draigon’s chest. He and Jeqon had never been close, and yet he found it easier to accept a human mate knowing that his cousin was involved in the process and had taken the time to deliver the news himself, and if his earlier comment and his nervous handling of the game piece was an indication, perhaps to offer advice on a possible Vesti co-mate. “You have seen her?”

  “No, the images I have are provided by another.”

  “Tell me of her first.”

  “Savannah is a policewoman.”

  Draigon settled more easily in the chair. A policewoman. It was a good start.

  “She is friends with Adan and Lyan’s bond-mate Krista. They should be arriving shortly. Perhaps you will even have a chance to meet Krista before they disappear into the housing set aside for them and are not seen again until she is pregnant. By all accounts Adan and Lyan are completely enamored of her even though she has led them on a wild, emotional chase.”

  Draigon’s spirits lightened further at the mention of Adan’s return. At the prospect of seeing Adan’s happiness. “I will time my departure in order to meet them when they arrive in Winseka.”

  “You have prepared for the trip to Earth?”

  “I have studied, not extensively as I did not expect to be matched so quickly. My knowledge is incomplete but it should serve me for the short time I will be there. I intend to stay only long enough to claim my mate and return to Belizair with her.”

  Jeqon nodded. “It would be best if Savannah was brought here quickly. She is in great danger. While she was with Krista an explosive device was detonated. It now appears your bond-mate was the intended target. If Lyan and Adan’s mate hadn’t guessed at the danger and acted, both women would be dead. Lost to us.”

  Draigon stood with such force that several of the game pieces tumbled over. “Where can I find Savannah?”

  Jeqon also stood, still holding the golden-colored game piece representing the messenger of The Goddess. “She is safe for the moment. Lyan and Adan were nearby when the danger to Savannah was first recognized. They assumed responsibility for their mate so the Vesti bounty hunter watching Krista could take possession of Savannah. If he had not been there to do so, then she would have been killed shortly thereafter. A sniper was lying in wait for her. He had no choice but to use the Ylan stones and destroy the human trying to kill her.” Jeqon paused. “I have made a report to the Council. He broke our laws and risked exposing our presence in order to save her. But in light of the fact that Savannah is important to Krista and has now been found to have the Fallon gene sequence as well, the Council has decided not to sanction him.”

  “I owe him much,” Draigon said, suspicion forming at the directness of Jeqon’s gaze, at the underlying hint of where the conversation was heading.

  “He would have saved her regardless of whether or not she carried the Fallon gene. She is Krista’s friend and when he saw her, the Vesti mating fever struck him. When she nicknamed him bat-man, he believed she was his match. He is the one who came to me with a sample of her DNA.”

  Disbelief. Anger. Gratitude. All of them tumbled around inside Draigon as knowledge congealed into a dark mass in his chest and gut. “He has already touched her?”

  “She reached for him and he thought it was his right. His duty to pleasure and protect her.”

  “Who is he?”

  Jeqon set the game piece down next to another symbolizing a chaotic whirlpool capable of destroying even the most powerful figures if they stumbled into it. “Kye d’Vesti.”

  Denial roared through Draigon. The force of it so overwhelming that he almost turned his back on Jeqon and walked away from the offered bond-mate—from the human woman who had given herself to Lyan’s cousin, who had already felt the sting of the Vesti mating fangs as she was mounted. But as Draigon’s emotions swirled and clashed violently, his gaze landed on the Fett game. On the fallen pieces. Knocked over when he had first heard of the danger to Savannah.

  For long moments Draigon struggled to gain control of himself, to restore order where chaos reigned. His comment of only a moment ago rising unspoken over the board. I owe him much.

  Draigon steeled himself, standing straight under the weight of responsibility he carried on behalf of his clan-house. What choice did he have but to accept the male Savannah had already chosen? The male who had both found her and kept her safe.

  “I will accept him as my co-mate. You will make note of it in the records?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. I will speak with my parents then go to Winseka.”

  Jeqon nodded and left.

  Draigon lingered for a few moments, his thoughts a confusion of duty coupled with honor, blended with surprised anticipation—curiosity as he realized Jeqon had never provided an image of Savannah.

  He picked up the scattered game pieces and placed them in their correct positions, then with one last look
at the Fett board, Draigon reached out mentally to find his family members. To share the news of his match with them.

  * * * * *

  Kye grimaced as he joined Savannah in the kitchen. Between the look on her face and the stiff new Earth garments he’d put on, he knew their breakfast was going to be an uncomfortable ordeal. She made him think of those times when he had been summoned to the Council chambers so that Raym d’Amato could question him, could attempt to delve into his thoughts and motivations, no doubt intent on determining how similar they were to Lyan’s.

  If his future weren’t so uncertain Kye would find amusement in how closely his feelings now matched his cousin’s. How desperately he wanted to ignore Council law. To take what he wanted, what he needed. To ensure that Savannah remained his.

  But the situation on Belizair was desperate. And his honor, the honor of his clan-house, demanded that he wait for his fate to unfold.

  The irony of having his future with Savannah rest in the hands of Raym’s nephew, Jeqon, was not lost on Kye. But Jeqon had always been his own man. His black hair and black-veined wings setting him apart in looks from the flame-haired members of his clan-house. His many friendships among the Vesti widening the distance.

  Kye took the plate of food Savannah offered and carried it to the table. Sitting. Watching as she took up a position across from him. Waiting for what was to come. Her expression warning him that her mind was busy and she would no longer be distracted by sex.

  Savannah studied Kye, not sure whether to be worried or pleased at how uncomfortable he looked. He knew what was coming. She could see it on his face. And yet… Now that the moment had arrived she found she wasn’t in such a big hurry to ask the hard questions.

  She reached for the jar of boysenberry jelly, taking time to slather it on her muffin, her stomach suddenly protesting the thought of food. “The clothes okay?” she asked, grimacing, wondering if reminding him that he was wearing stuff she’d purchased was a good way to start the conversation.