Zandian Lights

by Renee Rose

  “Now we just breathe.”

  As we sit there, at first I only feel broken energy. But slowly, as I talk, I sense that my voice is relaxing him, because the current between the two of us starts to hum. Not aloud, of course, but in my imagination. I can see it in my mind, strands of glowing blue and yellow light connecting our chests..

  “Relax and focus on the Zandian star.” My voice is soft like honey. “All you see is the star.”

  His eyes flutter and relax. Finally he’s sitting there without all of his muscles clenched.

  As I continue to talk, I sense when the moment is right.

  “Now I want you to think about your task. What is it?”

  “I need to memorize the sequence for the …” and he says the thing that Mirelle mentioned, and it makes even less sense this time.

  But it doesn’t matter if I understand it. All that needs to happen is that he understands it.

  “You know it already,” I promise him. “Do it there, in your mind. Slowly. Methodically. Step by step. You know it perfectly. Let your body carry it out.”

  He sways back and forth, moves his hands. Little gestures, tightening and loosening his fists.

  “Tell me what you’re doing.” I concentrate on the light.

  “I’m starting the auto-seg,” he begins. “Then I adjust the input variables.” He goes on, his voice fluent and strong, through a—and I’m not exaggerating—ten minute long recitation of complicated instructions. Also, they are somewhat boring directions. But through it, his body is soft and relaxed, his voice flowing without a hitch.

  When he’s done, he breathes deeply.

  “That’s it.” I nod. “You have it. Do you feel it inside you?”

  He inclines his head. “Yes, I do.”

  He opens his eyes. Blinks. Looks a little disoriented for a second. Frowns, like he’s concentrating. He moves his lips, like he’s reciting something, then his eyes widen in surprise and delight.

  “I know it. I know it!” He leaps to his feet. “By the star, I know it!” He sounds incredulous, then determined. “Mirelle, I have it now. I can do it.”

  He whirls on his heel, then turns to me. Bows his head formally. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  He opens his mouth, like he wants to say something more, but shakes his head. “I must go.”

  After he leaves, Mirelle hugs me. “Oh, Kee, I knew you could do it.” Her voice is triumphant, and when I look at her, she has tears in her eyes.

  I’m confused. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because you needed this.” She sniffles and swipes her eyes. “Kee, you have a gift. And if you share it, I think you’ll be happier. I know you will. I wanted to give you that.” Her voice is tremulous. “I wanted to make you happier.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But warmth spreads through me, like a glow.

  “Doesn’t it feel good to help others? I mean, you do it all the time at work. But something like this, something unique?” She looks into my eyes, squeezing my hands. “Isn’t it something else?” Her voice grows hushed. “Like magic?”

  I close my eyes and focus on the light. The grass rustles in the wind and Rhianna squeezes my hands. She’s my mother, and she loves me.

  I let go before I push too hard. But the thing is inside me now—I was loved, and deeply. I’ll never get Rhianna back, but that love is in me, and I can use it, share it.

  I open my eyes, and Mirelle is there, looking at me with love. She’s not my mother, but she’s my best friend, and I grab her in my arms. “It is like magic.”

  Now I’m the one crying. All I know is that maybe it won’t matter as much, about Mykl, about Arc and Bow, about my missing past. If I can help people and share this great feeling, it will fill enough of the gap to keep me going.

  Chapter 6

  Kianna

  * * *

  I’m asking for trouble. And I do mean literally, asking for trouble.

  I stand at my workstation with my bare legs slightly parted, my ass tipped up. Before I came to work, I put on a short, too-small tunic without leggings and a pair of thigh-high boots. The fabric clings to my curves and the boots highlight my legs. It’s every bit as provocative as I mean it to be.

  Wanting Mykl’s punishment is masochistic at best. I know how it will end—with him rejecting me, again. And yet I can’t stop thinking about his last punishment. The way he took such easy control of my body—took out his frustration on my ass. The way he pleasured me afterward. Let me pleasure him.

  I want it again.

  Need it.

  After our talk last time, I don’t harbor illusions of pushing past his barriers and getting him to accept me. I understand he believes he can’t. But that doesn’t change my craving for his attention.

  I hear the door open and close behind me. Mykl’s heavy footsteps sound, then stop. When they resume again, they’re coming swiftly toward me. I suppress my grin.

  “Kianna. What in vecking creation are you wearing?” Mykl’s deep growl goes straight to my core.

  I turn and give him my best wide-eyed innocence. “What do you mean?”

  His gaze travels over my curves, and stalls out on my legs. His throat works and I notice the bulge in his trousers grows. For a long moment, neither of us move, unless you count the way his horns thicken and tilt in my direction. His eyes glow a distinctly Zandian shade of amethyst, like two glittering gems. When they lift—with apparent effort—to my face again, they narrow. “You think this is a game, little human? Provoke your master and giggle later with your friends?”

  I hold my breath. I don’t want to answer in any way that will stall my punishment.

  “Do you?” he snaps.

  I force my lips to move. “No, Master.”

  I don’t usually call him that. I’ve made it a habit of acting too familiar, challenging his old-fashioned, stodgy need for formality and respect. Challenging his beliefs about the roles humans play with Zandians. I never wanted to be slave-y and yield to his authority.

  Until now.

  Or maybe I always wanted to yield, I just craved a little hands-on correction first.

  To my satisfaction, he grips my arm and spins me to face my work station. One large hand claps down on my nape and he pushes my torso over the table.

  “You wish to tease my cock, Kianna?” His hand crashes down on my ass, hard.

  I suppress my giggle at hearing him say cock. I wouldn’t have believed he had it in him to talk dirty. I allow my hips to shift, a subtle waggling of my ass intended to entice him.

  It works.

  He shifts his hand from my nape to between my shoulder blades and holds me down as he spanks me. It’s hot and hard, each smack burning as the next one arrives. It’s exactly what I crave. Satisfying on some deep level.

  It’s connection.

  Satisfaction.

  Completion.

  No, not completion. Not yet. But a girl can hope.

  Mykl’s hand catches on the back of my tunic and he stops spanking me to shove it up to my waist. His sharp intake of breath tells me he’s discovered what I’m wearing underneath. My panties are black spider silk with little bows at the backs of my legs and a cut out on the top that displays my ass cleavage. Amber ordered us both a pair back when she took her mates, but I hadn’t worn mine until now.

  He mutters a curse in Zandian I haven’t heard before. “Take off your panties.” The words are stiff, as if he’s barely restraining from tearing them off me himself. The thought of my tight-laced boss losing control over me has my pussy clenching with need. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of the panties and make a show of slowly dragging them down my hips and over my boots. I step out of them and he snatches them from my hand as I stand back up.

  “Back in position,” he snaps.

  With pleasure.

  I bend back over the counter, widening my stance slightly.

  He presses a hand into my back and starts to spank me fast and
hard. I have to concentrate to stay in position, because the urge to dance away is immediate. He doesn’t stop until my ass is hot and burning and that’s when he spanks between my legs.

  I gasp, tucking my butt and scooting my feet together.

  He slaps each of the backs of my thighs. “Open those legs. You wanted me to see that pretty pussy. Show it to me.”

  I can’t help the whimper that falls from my lips. It’s one part wanton need, one part fear. My heart pounds with excitement. Dragging my lower lip between my teeth, I widen my stance.

  He slaps my pussy again. My folds are wet and swollen, and the sound of the spank is carnal. I moan.

  “If you think I’m going to give you pleasure this time, you’re sorely mistaken,” he says, yet he spanks my pussy again.

  My eyes roll back in my head.

  He’s so off-base, as usual.

  This is pleasure. I am going to come from a pussy spanking alone. The burning of my ass and my humbling position only add to the erotic tension of the moment. Another smack. I catch my breath, then let it out with a mewl. The hand at my lower back moves to the top of my pelvis and when he pins me with it, has the effect of tilting my ass even more. Spreading my cheeks, presenting my pussy.

  He starts slapping, fast and light. Little smack-smack-smacks over my nether lips until I have to bite my lips to keep from screaming.

  I need to touch myself. I want to finish so badly.

  I let a moan escape and Mykl stops abruptly, like he just realized he’s pleasuring me.

  No.

  Don’t stop.

  Frantic, I push away from the table and cup my mons, rubbing, rubbing rubbing, until—

  Stars, yes.

  Sweet Mother Earth.

  “Did I say you could come?” Mykl thunders.

  I jump at the intensity of his rebuke and when I look over my shoulder at his expression, I think even he is surprised by it. For a few beats, we just stare at each other, panting. I want him to kiss me. Or fuck me.

  Anything but walk away.

  I steal a glance at his cock tenting his pants. Would he allow me to give him—

  He frowns and gives a quick shake of his head. “No,” he says after another beat. Without taking his gaze off me, he reaches to a shelf above me and pulls down the sella oil—a plant-based vegetable oil we use to lubricate parts.

  “You don’t get to suck my cock this planet rotation, Kianna.”

  I watch, mesmerized as he pumps a generous amount of oil into his palm.

  “And you already know I can’t breed you. Turn around and get back in position. Stick your ass out.”

  His intention dawns on me and my eyes widen.

  The smallest of smirks plays around his lips, making him look sexier than I’ve ever seen him. He dips his fingers in the oil in his palm and smears it between my ass cheeks, rubbing a generous amount over my anus.

  Oh sweet Mother Earth. What did I get myself into?

  My heart beats erratically. Looking back, I watch in fascinated terror as he frees his cock from his trousers and strokes the long, purple appendage with his greased hand.

  I nearly groan at the sight of his firm malehood, the memory of its velvety steel in my mouth flooding back to me.

  He pushes my cheeks wide and nests the head of his cock at my back entrance. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes closed.

  Nothing happens.

  “Open for me, Kianna.” Mykl’s voice is gentle, coaxing. Nothing like what I expected. He knows I’m afraid and he’s waiting until I’m ready.

  That knowledge comforts me and I relax. As I exhale, he gently pushes, the head of his cock breaching my entrance.

  I cry out, shocked by the intrusion. Mykl continues pressing forward until the head clears my tight ring of muscles, and then he stops as I pant, getting used to the sensation of being stretched. Feeling so full.

  “Mykl,” I plead.

  “You’re doing so well, Kianna.” Again, I’m surprised by his caring, his encouragement. Still, his need is barely leashed. His fingers dig into my hips and I sense the shaking in his thighs against my ass. “Take your master, now. Take all of me.” He eases forward and I concentrate on relaxing to let him in. Each inch fills me, stretching me wide, taking everything from me.

  I never knew how much I craved surrender. All these months I’ve pushed and prodded Mykl, daring him to do something about this attraction between us. He may have his reasons for not mating me, but now I know with certainty. There’s no denying this chaotic pull between us. And having him take me fully—demand my total and complete yield to his authority—feels so right.

  He pushes all the way in, then backs out and fills me again. Each stroke changes me. Rearranges the very molecules of my existence. I am his, completely. No teasing, no irritations. Just his powerful control of my body. His need matching mine.

  His pleasure intertwined with mine.

  He pumps into me, slowly at first, then short, fast thrusts. He bumps my stinging ass with his loins, punishing me a second time with his thick cock, sending tremors of pleasure down my thighs.

  I cover my mouth to muffle my cries, because they fill the room—my needy mewls tangling with his deep growls and grunts until we make a symphony of sounds, an overlay to the slap of flesh against flesh.

  “Kianna, yes… veck, yes.” Mykl’s voice grows rough, broken.

  “Take it,” I urge, although I have no idea what I’m encouraging him to take. His pleasure? My ass? My heart.

  Yes, take it all, Master. Please.

  “I’m going to come,” he growls, bumping me hard on each instroke.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Please.”

  He reaches around the front of my hips and slaps my clit again and I explode into my climax, stars bursting and dancing before my eyes.

  He roars and fucks my ass harder, faster, until he, too, reaches his summit and hurtles over the other side.

  When my vision clears, I find I’m staring down at my work surface, Mykl’s torso folded over the top of mine, cradling me.

  “Veck, Kianna.” His lips move against my neck. “That was… unwise. I’m sorry.”

  I feel the curious urge to both laugh and cry. I know better than to do either around Mykl, so I say nothing. After a moment, he eases out of me. He walks to the sink and wets a towel, which he brings back to clean me with.

  “Kianna.” He sounds stiff again.

  I duck my head and step into my panties he hands me. “You don’t have to say anything.” I pull them up and rearrange my tunic. “I know where you stand.”

  I return my focus to my workstation, picking up the power cell I’ve been working on and examining it with far more intensity than the job requires.

  “Right. Well.”

  I don’t look over.

  After a moment, Mykl leaves and I swallow the lump in my throat.

  It ended the way I knew it would.

  And again, my heart is breaking into a million pieces.

  I have to stop this. The only being getting hurt here is me.

  Mykl

  * * *

  It shouldn’t hurt so much.

  Leaving Kianna at her work station after taking her so roughly—after punishing her and vecking her ass—it’s all wrong.

  And yet I don’t know what else to do.

  I can’t mate her. I’ve already explained why I can’t.

  She knows why I can’t.

  Why, then, did she goad me into that?

  Why did I let her? I knew what she was doing, and I still walked right into it.

  I craved it as much as she did.

  And like last time, the orgasm I had went beyond any experience I’ve had in my life. It’s like Kianna knows how to unlock some masculine part of me I threw away when I found out I could no longer serve my king as a warrior.

  But I am from a long line of warriors.

  And that’s why I must breed with a Zandian, as I promised my father.

  I can’t allow this to happ
en with Kianna again. I only hurt her, and she’s the last being on Zandia I ever want to wound. She’s far too precious to be treated like a sex slave whom I can bend over and veck any time it suits me.

  No, she deserves some being who can be a true mate. Offer her the love and laughter the humans crave.

  Even if I wasn’t promised for Zandia, I’m not capable of nurturing a relationship with a human. I lack the sensitivity required.

  No, Kianna’s better off without me. And if I need to transfer her to another master in order to keep my hands off her, I will.

  Chapter 7

  Mykl

  * * *

  I’ve been waiting so long, that when I hear the words from far-flung space pirates, I don’t believe it at first.

  I drop the auto-tuner and it clatters on the work table as I grab the scanner, as if holding it will bring me closer.

  “One Zandian female… sector B… heading to auction in Segron 8…”

  Then there’s static, but I got what I needed. I activate my comm unit.

  “Master Seke!” My voice is ferocious with urgency. “Emergency mission requested. There is word of a Zandian female headed to auction.”

  Seke’s response is immediate. “Where?” His tense excitement comes through.

  “In Sector B in Segron 8.”

  “We have never flown into that airspace.” Master Seke’s voice is clipped. “Pilots would have to endure five times the usual hyperdrive jump just to get into the territory. It’s many light years farther than we’ve ever travelled.” He pauses. “In addition, we have no auto-nav for that areas. The solar bands are deadly.”

  “You know we have to do this.” It’s not even a question. My voice rises. “I’ve been studying the star maps for solar cycles. I have them memorized.” I’m curt with urgency. “I know them like my own hands. We can do this.”

  “You are not a pilot. You haven’t trained for this.” I know what he’s saying: You’re not a warrior. I kept up with hand combat training with Master Seke on the palatial pod, but when they moved to the training pod and began training pilots, I was put to use in engineering because of my lung condition.