by Ivy Barrett
Fine! She’d play his stupid game. “Are Oseth and Urrya in danger?”
“Yes.”
She gasped and snatched her dress off the floor. “Then what the hell are we doing? We need to help them.”
He took the dress out of her hand and casually tossed it across the room. “Would you like to know their location, or the source of the danger? Will running after them help, or make things worse? Is it imminent danger or something that has been brewing for years? So many unanswered questions.”
“You’re diabolical.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at him.
His gaze immediately narrowed. “Lower your arms.”
“You told me to take off the dress and I did. If you want more, tell me where they are.”
His expression didn’t change as he said, “Bedelsfoth.” He offered nothing more.
Damn him. “Is that a place, like a city?”
“Lower your arms.”
“Just tell me!” She lowered her arms, but stomped her foot, ready to smack the smirk right off his handsome face. Her breasts jiggled and his gaze immediately dropped to her chest. Typical male!
“Watch that temper.” In an instant he was deadly serious and his gaze bore into hers. “This is the only warning you’ll get. Take a deep breath. This is supposed to be fun.”
Fun for him, maybe. Her curiosity wanted to know the details of their situation, but there was only one thing she really needed to know right now. “Is there anything we can do to assist them?”
“No.”
Then they must not be in imminent danger. Besides, she was being foolish. If they’d needed help, it’s more than likely Azra would have acted without hesitation. These males were protective of women, but they were also protective of each other. “Thank you. I’m sorry for bothering you. It won’t happen again.” She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of me.” Challenge returned to his tone, though he still seemed less playful.
“I’m not.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. There was a part of her that was terrified, yet a bigger part found him fascinating. And extremely arousing. Knowing he was not only willing to, but eager to hurt her made him dangerous, and she’d always been excited by danger.
“Then stay.” He released her arm, indicating it was her choice.
She looked toward the door, heart fluttering in her chest. If she stayed, he’d fuck her, and likely a whole lot more. If she wanted the other two, she had to submit to Azra also. It was all or nothing with Ventori pods. That wasn’t fair and it wasn’t honest. Azra wasn’t the price she had to pay to be with the others. He was an integral part of a wonderfully complex whole, and she wanted it all!
She licked her lips and slowly returned her gaze to his face. “What do you want me to do?”
His arm shot out and he fisted the back of her hair, pulling her head back so firmly she gasped. Fitting his lips over hers, he plundered her mouth with nearly frantic desperation. Each sensual sweep of his tongue spread his taste through her mouth. Much like the man, his taste was dark and mysterious, spicy yet rich. His other arm wrapped around her, pulling her snugly against his big body. Her hands ended up on his chest, but she wasn’t pushing him away this time. She slid them up to his shoulders and returned the kiss with unabashed enthusiasm. She wanted him, and what took place in this room was nobody’s business but theirs.
Breaking away as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, he walked to the bed and pulled the bedding off, leaving only the bottom sheet. Then he pointed to the stripped mattress. “Lie down sideways and display yourself for me.”
She knew from the night before what that meant, but she wasn’t used to it yet. She sat, then lay on her back and slowly parted her legs.
“Did they not instruct you on—”
Not wanting to argue, she quickly bent her knees and opened her thighs wide, resting her heels on the edge of the mattress. The position made her so vulnerable, so open and ready for anything.
“Much better, but raise your arms overhead.”
Keeping her gaze focused on the exposed timbers high above her, she lifted her arms, resting her hands near each other just above her head. Her hair fanned out around her and her breasts thrust out, nipples starting to bead.
He moved. She could sense the change in his position though his steps were silent. Then he took her wrist and encircled it with a wide restraint. The fur-lined cuff snapped closed with a menacing ‘click’ before she realized what he was doing.
“I’d rather not be restrained.” She tugged against it as a sudden rush of fear swept through her. The cuff was connected to the bed, or maybe the floor with a long, metallic-looking cable. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“You chose to stay,” he pointed out. “Were you unaware that I restrain my sexual partners?”
Of course not. She’d been restrained the first time she saw him. “No.”
“Then consent was implied.”
She could argue, but he was already cuffing her other wrist. Clearly, she wasn’t getting out of this that easily. Her pulse raced so hard her ears were starting to ring, but her traitorous pussy was quivering in eager anticipation. Her mind might still be resisting the new dynamics, but her body had no problem with being mastered.
“You’re already wet. I can smell it quite clearly.” He brushed her hair back from her face, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “You are also extremely inexperienced.”
She wasn’t sure she qualified after last night, but she wasn’t about to point that out. He still stood on the far side of the bed, near her hands. She looked up at him and helplessly sank into his mesmerizing gaze.
“I don’t usually explain myself, but I’ll make an exception this one time.” His warm hands slid down her arms as he spoke and his gaze followed the lazy movement. “The restraints are for your benefit. It is almost impossible to remain still while being disciplined, but additional punishment can result if you don’t.” He cupped both breasts, squeezing firmly. “I will restrain you until your control has increased to the point where you no longer need it. Do you understand?” He grasped her nipples, pinching and twisting just hard enough to make her gasp.
“Yes... Master.” The title slipped out automatically as he continued to play with her nipples. The sensations stopped well short of real pain, but his touch was different than either Urrya’s or Oseth’s. There was a shimmering thread of cruelty woven through everything Azra did, and it thrilled the part of her she was still reluctant to acknowledge.
“Now,” his slightly smirk-ish smile flashed as he rounded the bed and stood between her widespread legs, “tell me who fucked you first.” His focus zoomed in on her pussy as he waited for her answer.
It wasn’t a question this time but a demand. Apparently he was finished with his games, or at least the sort of games she had any control over. Then she realized how she could answer without lying and still confuse the hell out of him. “They both did.”
His gaze narrowed, obviously displeased by her evasiveness. He cupped her sex, then pushed his thumb into her slick core. “Who tore through your hymen?” He slid in and out as he said, “Clearly, it’s gone.”
Damn it. She thought she had him. “Urrya.”
He rotated his hand as he drew out his thumb, then pushed two of his fingers into her pussy and covered her clit with his now wet thumb. “Then which first did Oseth enjoy?”
She tensed, trying not to succumb to his skilled touch. He was already better at word games than she was, and the slow fucking of his hand was making it damn hard to concentrate on anything else. “My mouth.” The admission escaped as she sighed and began to rock her hips, taking his fingers deeper.
“You’d never sucked a cock before?” He sounded incredulous. “Were you raised in a convent?”
Really not in the mood to revisit her past, she averted her eyes as she said, “Something like that.”
He pressed down hard on her clit as he shoved into her bod
y, his hand impacting her folds with punishing force. She cried out, startled by the small correction. “Don’t hide from me.” Immediately, she shifted her gaze back to his face. “Did they fuck your ass?”
She really wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but knew it would only earn her more pain. Besides it didn’t take a psychic to figure out why he wanted to know, so she just shook her head.
Predictably, a pleased smile curved his mouth, showing a hint of even white teeth. “Good. Then I will be your final first.”
She was already jaded enough to feel like that was fitting, and to know he’d make it a dizzying mixture of pleasure and pain. “Now?”
“Not until they return,” he said casually, as if ass fucking was something he did every day. Maybe it had been before she got here. She had no way of knowing, but she didn’t think so. They all seemed too lonely for such excess. “The others will want to watch.”
Of course they would. She’d also learned about their penchant for voyeurism the night before. “Then will you please let me up.”
“Very nice tone, but something is missing.”
She tensed. He was not her master, damn it! Why wouldn’t he be satisfied with Sir? Sir was respectful without being denigrating. To willingly call him Master, she had to accept being a slave. It was highly doubtful he was finished with her anyway, so she said nothing.
“Still so delightfully stubborn, I see.” He strolled across the room as he spoke and pulled open some sort of case that had been mounted to the stone wall. “You’re going to have to learn to bend quickly, or your life will be very painful for the next thirty days.”
“Sixteen,” she corrected.
He looked at her, clearly confused by the reply. “Sixteen what?”
“Sixteen days. I’ve been with this pod since Urrya found me in the wasteland. I was unconscious for twelve days and this is the second day since you released me from the healing thrall, so that leaves sixteen days of the thirty.”
“Really?” He definitely didn’t sound amused, but his expression was inscrutable.
“I’d have to study the contract, but I’m pretty sure I can hold you to it.”
“I signed no contract. Did you?”
Unlike most of the human females, she hadn’t volunteered for any of this. So he was right. Technically there was no contract, no rigid rules to protect her. “But Chancellor Savator said—”
“Bronsen Savator has no authority over me.” He took a flogger out of the case and returned to the bed. At least she thought that’s what it was called. It had multiple strands of what looked like black leather hanging off a thick handle that had been carved out of something that looked like wood. He swung the thing and the strands made an almost pleasant swishing noise.
“I haven’t done anything wrong. Why did you get out that... thing?”
He moved to the foot of the bed, standing perpendicular to her body. “If I’m not mistaken...”
The flogger’s strands trailed over her pussy, then across her belly and between her breasts, teasing her senses with the feather-light touch while her mind frantically grappled with uncertainty.
“Three times my much-needed rest has been interrupted because of you.” He flicked his wrist, sending the strands dancing across her belly.
She gasped and squirmed, but it hadn’t really hurt, just scared her.
“First, you insisted that Urrya return to Earth and tell Kyla you were still alive.” He pushed on her left knee until her legs were together and angled sharply to the right. “Now bend your knees up toward your chest.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what he wanted. With her lower body rolled to the right, even with her upper body flat on the bed, her butt was accessible. “Please d—” A strangled cry replaced the rest of her plea as the flogger landed against her round cheeks, first one side and then the other. Sparks of pain peppered her skin, the sensations not having time to recede before he swung again, and again.
“It hurts,” she cried, when he finally paused. “That really hurts!”
“Do you think it was not painful to form that portal when I could hardly stand?” He swung the flogger again, punishing her ass with merciless focus. He delivered ten sharp strokes, then suddenly stopped and moved her legs back to their original position.
The cool sheet felt nice on her heated skin, but the pressure intensified the throb. She pushed up with her heels, taking some of the weight off her stinging bottom.
Was he done? She didn’t think so. He’d said there had been three interruptions, but he’d only mentioned one.
“I had barely attained the deep, meditative trance needed to regain my strength, when I was ‘summoned’ to the library by one selfish little mate.” He caressed her inner thighs with the strands, the teasing path leading closer and closer to the juncture of her thighs.
Oh, God! Was he going to whip her pussy? That couldn’t be right. The flogger hurt really badly on her rear. There was no way she could take—
Slap. Slap.
The strands impacted her lower lips and tender folds. She cried out, more from fear than pain. It stung for a split second, but quickly mellowed into smoldering heat.
“So I dragged myself to consciousness once again.” He swung the flogger a little harder and she cried out even louder.
“I’m sorry!” She tugged against the cuffs, instinctively bringing her knees closer together.
He flogged one inner thigh and then the other, the impacts harder than he’d used on her pussy. “Keep your legs open. Accept your discipline.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and her legs shook as she forced herself to rotate her legs out. “Please stop or do something else. This really hurts!”
“It is meant to.” There was no compassion in his expression, and only lust in his dark stare.
She cried out each time the strands connected and began to sob as the sting compounded. Each individual slap was not that hard, but the area was so specific that her pussy soon burned and throbbed, echoing the frantic beating of her heart.
The slaps finally stopped and she sucked in a shuddering breath.
“Third.”
Oh, fuck, what now?
He moved a bit closer to her head and his gaze focused on her breasts.
“Oh, please. Not there. My nipples are really sensitive.”
His only reply was a humorless smile as he teased her nipples with the flogger before beginning the final phase of her punishment. “I might have excused today’s interruption. Your worry was justified, but it’s part of a clear pattern. And that I can’t allow.”
Chapter Six
Protectorate-controlled space
Ramnyth Dulvet watched the Elizian grow ever larger on the main view screen as tension coiled through his gut. “Steady,” he cautioned Jarton, his navigator, without shifting his gaze from the display. The command deck was silent. No one moved, most hardly breathed. Yashonty warriors were lively and talkative by nature, so the stillness was particularly chilling. Anxiety gripped each male present and all eyes were fixed on the enemy ship.
This was far from their maiden voyage. Most of Ram’s crew had served together for the better part of two decades. Each male was battle-tested and devoted to their cause, annihilation of the vile Skarilian scourge. Today was the first full-scale test of their camouflage shielding, however, and no one was certain of the outcome.
“Are you sure this is wise, sir?”
Ram shot his first officer, Moxtel, an annoyed glare. “The only way to be sure the shields work is if we test them. Our simulations can’t predict recent changes in Ventori sensor arrays. This must be done.”
“True,” Moxtel agreed, “but the Elizian is the best ship in the Protectorate fleet. It might make more sense to—”
“That’s the point,” Ram cut in. “If Styre can’t sense us then no one in the Protectorate can.” Ram had never actually met Kellan Styre, commander of the Elizian, but Ram felt as if they’d been adversaries for years. And Ram k
new his enemies even better than he knew his friends.
Ram’s ship, the Dantexit, was a sleek and agile fighter, unlike the hulking destroyer they approached. If the larger ship detected them, the Dantexit could easily escape. Still, it injected excitement into an otherwise routine situation.
“If they were going to sense us, sir, they would have—”
As if to mock Jarton’s boast, the Elizian suddenly came about. The navigator’s hands flew through his control grid, dipping and twisting as he frantically plotted new coordinates.
“Hold course, Jar. Not yet.”
Jarton looked at Ram as if he’d lost his mind, but didn’t launch the new sequence.
“They sense something, but they’re not sure what,” Ram deduced. “Have they locked on to our position?”
“No, sir,” Jarton admitted. “But they’re scanning like crazy.”
“Let them. This is what we need to know. What can they sense, and what is simple instinct.”
Tension pulsed all around him as they waited and the Elizian searched in vain.
“Weapons lock!” Someone shouted.
“They’ve found us,” Jarton agreed.
“Get us out of here. Now!” Ram yelled.
Jarton complied without delay and the ship banked sharply then engaged their hyperdrive. After a stunning burst of acceleration, everything smoothed out and stabilized. The bridge officers let out a collective sigh and everyone returned to their individual duties.
Ram activated his control panel with an impatient wave of his hand and verified that there was no damage and that no one was pursuing them. “Return to sector nine. Clearly we’ve still got work to do.”
“Yes, sir,” Jarton replied, still seeming a little rattled.
“May I speak with you privately, sir?” Moxtel asked, his voice tight and serious.
After deactivating his controls, Ram pushed to his feet and motioned toward the door. “I’m headed to engineering,” he said to the room at large, then to Moxtel, “Walk with me.”
Moxtel nodded, then fell into step beside his commander. They both knew the ship well, so they paid more attention to each other than their progress. Yashonty ships tended to be oblong and rounded, which created long, narrow passageways.
