by Renee Rose
“That’s right,” he growled and lowered his head between her knees. He traced his tongue along the inside of her innermost lips, making her jerk and gasp. The fresh tattoo on her back must be rasping against the cot, but she didn’t complain. She grasped his horns, and he groaned, cock swelling painfully against his uniform pants.
He suctioned his lips over her clit, sucking hard. She squeezed both his horns, rubbing her thumbs over the tips as she pumped.
Somehow, he mustered enough willpower to pull away. He picked up the piercing gun. “I’m going to pierce the hood, not the actual clitoris.” He pinched the flesh between two fingers.
She jerked and moaned at his handling of her most sensitive bundle of nerves.
He inserted the flesh between the jaws of the gun and pulled the trigger, sending a horizontal bar through the hood. He affixed the end crystal and sat back to admire his handiwork. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re a Zandian now.”
“Yes,” she murmured, looking half-drunk. Her cheeks had flushed a charming shade of pink.
“No sex until it heals,” he announced, chuckling at the shocked outrage on her face. “Don’t worry, little human, I can still veck your ass.”
A wariness crept back into her demeanor, but she sat up and arranged herself on her hands and knees on the cot.
Her willingness to give herself any way he demanded moved him. The power she’d given him affected him more than any drug, more than any crystal, more than sunlight itself.
He stood and plucked her from her place on the cot, sitting and arranging her over his knees. “A spanking first. For scaring the veck out of me in that battle.”
Again, no protest from his female, although she’d always enjoyed her spankings. He ran his hand over her smooth skin, noting the faint marks still there from the whipping he’d given her the week before. “Does this still hurt?”
“No. My skin marks easily because I’m a redhead, that’s all.” She struck a reassuring tone, like she was afraid he might hold back.
“Good. Because I love spanking this ass, especially now that it has my name tattooed above it.” He began a steady pace of slaps, watching her ivory skin turn light pink then dusky rose. He spanked until she squirmed and her breath quickened, then he leaned over and planted a kiss on each cheek. “Sweet little human.”
He reached for the bottle of oil and rubbed it all over her reddened ass, giving it a few more slaps to show her how much more it could sting. “On your knees, beautiful,” he murmured, helping her into position on the bed.
He coated his cock with the oil and massaged a generous amount into her anus. “Open for me.” He pushed the head of his dick against her back entrance and held a steady pressure until she relaxed for him. “Good girl.” He wedged his cock into her tight hole and gripped her nape as he eased in.
Her back bowed, and she panted, the tiny mewls on her exhales driving him mad. “You look so vecking beautiful like this.”
Her laugh came out in a sob, and his cock drove deeper, prying her open.
“Do you like having my cock in your ass, Cambry?” He eased back and slid in once more, going slowly because he recognized how challenging the position was for her, felt the tremble of her body, and heard the whoosh of her breaths as she worked to accommodate him.
He gave a low laugh as he repeated the slow pump. “You don’t know whether to say yes or no, do you, little female? You know I’ll give you pleasure, but I’m also going to work you hard for it, aren’t I?”
She gave a long, wavering moan.
“Am I right?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You’re a good girl to take my cock like this. I won’t ask for it every time. Maybe I’ll reserve it for when you require punishment.”
“Lundric.”
He heard the tremor in her voice, the terrified need. He reached around and plunged two fingers into her pussy, careful not to hit the fresh piercing with the heel of his hand. “Is that better, baby?”
“Oh stars, yes. Lundric, please?”
He bumped her ass in short thrusts that sent her farther onto his thrusting fingers.
“Lundric, oh please, oh please, oh please? Lundric!”
“I vecking love it when you beg, beautiful girl.” He gripped her hair with his free hand and pulled her head back. “Who gives you pleasure, baby?”
“Lundric! Lundric does!”
His thighs flexed and control fled. “Who do you belong to?”
“You! I belong to you! Oh please, Lundric, I have to come!”
He closed his eyes and allowed his climax to sweep through him, thrusting deeper into her ass and staying as he continued to pump his fingers. “Come, little human. Come now.”
Her orgasm shook her entire body, and she collapsed forward onto her belly on the cot. He followed her down, his cock still buried in her ass, fingers coated in her juices as her muscles clamped down on them.
He hovered over her trembling body, drinking in her scent, savoring the rightness of their position. He had his female. Cambry was his—forever.
“Lundric,” she murmured as he eased out. Her blissed-out voice sounded far away.
“Yes, baby?”
“I don’t know how I got so lucky to be your mate.”
He kissed her neck, bit the shell of her ear. “I love you, little female. I’m going to take care of you. Provide for you. Protect you. Make you happy. I swear it on all the crystals of Zandia.”
She rolled to her side to gaze up at him, cupping his cheek with her hand. “What does a Zandian female promise to her mate?”
His heart filled in a rush of warmth. “Never to leave,” he choked.
Her big brown eyes were liquid pools of warmth as she lifted her lips for a kiss. “I love you,” she murmured, just before he claimed her mouth for what he intended to make the most thorough kiss of her life.
9
Cambry fidgeted with the white Zandian guard’s uniform she’d opted to wear instead of her usual tunic and leggings.
“You look beautiful.” Lundric’s voice was gruff.
She’d worn her hair down for him because she loved the way he stared at her when she did—as if he never wanted to look away.
He took her hand in his larger palm and led her off the battleship into a cool, climate-controlled dock that was part of Prince Zander’s palatial pod.
She drew in a breath, throwing back her shoulders and lifting her chin, determined not to embarrass Lundric, who had brought her to meet his ruler, Prince Zander.
Guards stood inside the door, but they merely nodded as Lundric strode past them.
Her jaw dropped. The palatial pod was exquisite. The walls were made of some kind of natural plaster, each in its own beautiful color. Periwinkle blue, pale yellow, crimson. Even the corridor walls glowed with color. Natural light streamed in everywhere—from windows and skylights, amplified with the Zandian crystals like the one Lundric had installed on their pod. Opulent, woven rugs covered the floors, and everything seemed to be made of natural substances—hard marble, stone, wood. She wondered if it had all come from Zandia.
If so, then Zandia really was the promised land Lily had described to the refugees.
“This is the Great Hall,” Lundric murmured, bringing her into a huge room with vaulted ceilings. A young man dressed in white sat on a raised chair—no, a throne—and a line of Zandians queued up to speak to him.
Lundric led her to the line. “Once a week, Prince Zander’s pod is open to any Zandian. They may come and use the crystal light bath and eat the weekly meal with him. He sits in here to hear their requests or complaints. To resolve any disputes, we do not rely on the Ocretion justice system but employ one of our own.”
She swallowed. “Does Prince Zander know about...what I did?”
Lundric nodded. “Yes. He knows you stole a ship and tried to escape. He also knows you fought with his warriors to defend the pod.”
“Am I here to answer for it?”
&
nbsp; Lundric’s hesitation didn’t put her mind at ease. “We all answer to Prince Zander. He knows you have been punished and that my trust in you has been restored.”
Her hand grew clammy in Lundric’s palm. He squeezed it. “I’ll be right here beside you.”
She drew on the strength from Lundric. For the first time, she faced a form of authority she didn’t hate. Didn’t wish to rebel against or hold herself separate from. It was a new feeling, the desire to impress, to be accepted.
The line moved up, each Zandian having his or her allotted time with the ruler. From what she could tell, they were mostly older beings. She wondered how many young Zandians were left in the galaxy.
When their turn came, Lundric led her forward and bowed low.
She curtsied.
“My lord, may I present my mate, Cambry?”
She dragged her gaze up to rest on the neckline of his finely woven tunic, not sure if looking him in the face was allowed.
He appeared to be around the same age as Lundric and was handsome in his own way. “Cambry. The female who stole my best guard’s heart.”
“I prefer to think I earned it, my lord.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Would he think her too sassy?
The corners of his lips twitched. “Stealing is part of your repertoire, though, is it not?”
Her face heated. “My lord, I deeply regret stealing your battleship. I promise it will never happen again.” She dared another glance at his face.
He studied her with a penetrating gaze. “I understand you are a capable pilot, Cambry, and that you are willing to serve in my army.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Your service is welcome, as is your union with Lundric. I trust your bond with him will keep you loyal.”
A rush of relief made her blink rapidly. She dropped another curtsy. “Thank you, my lord.”
“My mate is looking forward to meeting you. There aren’t many females around here. Lundric will introduce you before the evening meal.”
She curtsied once more, sensing the dismissal, and Lundric led her out of the Great Hall. They didn’t make it far, though. He pushed her up against the wall in the corridor, grinding a sizeable erection against her belly.
“Do you know how hard it makes me to present you as my mate here?”
She laughed, low and husky, and squeezed his erection through his pants. “I’m getting a hint.”
Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and Lundric pulled back just before a large Zandian passed them, an unconscious dark-haired human female draped over his shoulder.
She tensed, fingers automatically seeking the dagger Lundric had given her.
Lundric dropped a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Daneth, who is that?”
The Zandian didn’t stop, but he shifted the female on his shoulder. “A human. For breeding.”
Lundric winced. “Daneth is our resident physician, charged with the restoration of our species,” he explained as the doctor passed them with his inert cargo. To Daneth, Lundric said, “You’re not breeding her against her will, though, right?”
The Zandian seemed to catch Lundric’s warning tone because he finally stopped walking and turned back, looking from Lundric to her, understanding dawning on his expression. “Oh. Welcome to the pod, Cambry. No, not against the female’s will. Prince Zander has recently forbidden Zandian ownership of slaves of any species. If she chooses not to participate in my experiment, I will find another place for her. But my program selected this particular female as the best possible surrogate for the frozen Zandian eggs I plan to fertilize in vitro.”
Lundric winced again. “Uh, glad to hear it. Thank you, Daneth. Good luck.”
“Thank you. And congratulations on your recent mating. If you’d like, I can run both your genes through my program to—”
“No thanks,” Lundric cut him off, pulling her hand to lead her in the opposite direction. As soon as they were alone again, he stopped and leaned his forehead against hers. “Oh stars. Please tell me that didn’t worry you.”
She giggled. “Only a little. Do you really think that female will be all right?”
“Zandians have honor. Daneth’s crazy program is what brought Prince Zander to Lamira, his human mate, so it can’t be too far off.”
“Well, he did seem crazy, but I believe a Zandian master would be far better than an Ocretion one, no matter the circumstances. Look how much better off all the refugees are now.”
“You really do believe that now?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t just joined the fight for me?”
She sucked on her lower lip. “I go where you go. I fight where you fight. I’m your female. So, yes, I joined the fight for you. But I also think Zandia is worth fighting for. And I’ve come to trust in Zandian leadership. Aligning with Zandians is a good choice for any human. For my brother. For the others on the pod. Probably for that female, too.”
Lundric’s shoulders relaxed, tension dissolving from his face. He scooped her up to straddle his waist. “I’m going to go practice my own Zandian breeding study with a human right now,” he growled. His hands cupped her ass, squeezing.
She giggled and tightened her thighs around his waist, her pussy moistening. “Yes, we’d better start practicing.”
He carried her down the corridor and put his hand against a panel, which caused a door to swish open. “I will need every available hour to study this little human body.” He tossed her onto a floating oval sleepdisk draped in blue spidersilk. “I’d better get started right away.”
Her lids lowered as she watched her handsome warrior crawl up over her, horns erect, irises turning violet.
She spread her arms wide. “Here I am. Yours to study.”
He pounced over her and pinned her wrists above her head. “Yes, mine.” He rubbed his horns across her neck. “Mine to pleasure.”
She arched into her warrior’s touch, a purr of contentment in her throat, her heart full to the brim with Lundric. “Thank you, Lundric,” she whispered as he sucked her neck.
“For what?” he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming under her uniform top.
“For making me yours.”
“You’ve always been mine.” He cupped her mound, rubbing the piercing with the heel of his hand. “It just took you a while to recognize it.”
Her eyes watered with love. “Well, thank you for showing me the way.”
He moved between her legs, drawing down her pants and spreading her thighs. “Was this the way?” He lowered his head and licked into her.
She reached for his horns, already breathless. “Yes,” she panted. “I believe it was…”
THE END
Thank you for reading His Human Rebel! The books seems to be alternating between heavy non-con and lighter D/s (through no design on my part—it’s just what the characters dictate). If you missed the non-con in this one, stay tuned for His Human Vessel, which will be heavy on the breeding and medical BDSM themes! Some of you are wondering how I can make Daneth sympathetic as a hero. Read His Human Vessel to see if I succeed (turn the page for an excerpt)!
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From the Author
Thank you for reading The Zandian Masters books 1-4! If you enjoyed this anthology, I would really appreciate it if you would leave a review. Your reviews are invaluable to indie authors in marketing books so we can keep book prices down.
His Human Vessel - Excerpt
The restraints around Bayla’s wrists kept her from rubbing her nose.
In dim awareness, she tried to move her hand again to relieve the itch, but it caught, yanked against an unyielding strap.
With a sharp inhale, she jerked fully awake as the memory of the huge horned alien with an injector gun rushed back. He’d shown up at the fertility farm where she and sixty other hum
an females had been enslaved and bought her following a brief inspection. Then, without a word to her, he'd pressed the device to her neck, and everything had gone black.
She blinked at the light and took in her situation. She was naked, strapped down to an examination table by leather cuffs. The alien, who was not an Ocretion, the species who’d taken over Earth and enslaved all humans, wore a white lab coat and stood near a window with his back to her. This being was taller than humans or Ocretions, and he had purple-hued skin and eyes. He spared a glance over his shoulder at her sudden movement then turned back to what he was doing.
His silent treatment irritated the hell out of her. Did he not speak Ocretion? No, he must. She’d heard him speaking to the fertility farm slave masters when he’d bought her.
She licked her dry lips. “What are you doing with me?” Her voice cracked from lack of use.
The alien turned and walked to her side, a needle in his hand.
She flinched when he approached, but, with the restraints, couldn’t move. “Did you hear me? Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He ignored her and pinched the skin at the crease of her elbow, inserting the needle then drawing a vial of blood.
She looked away, her stomach queasy. Although she’d been bred and raised for nothing more than this purpose—to have her body poked and prodded, inseminated and vacated over and over again, she still hadn’t grown used to it.
She attempted to distract her mind as he fit a second vial to the tube. The lab room was small but bright. The window was unusual—she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one like it. It didn’t let in much light, but a skylight in the ceiling somehow magnified sunlight through a crystalline structure, casting beams throughout the room. In fact, there didn’t appear to be any artificial light in use at all.
Having spent most of her life in a metal box with no natural light, she found it a profound improvement. It would be almost cheerful if she weren’t naked and strapped to a table. With no clue what was going to happen to her.
