Aldric: A Sci-Fi Warrior Romance

by Jane Henry

  She pushes herself up from my chest, her eyes bright from crying and her cheeks flushed. My desire for her grows with every second that passes with her skin against mine, with her complete and utter submission to me, dependent on me to take care of her. I pull her closer, crushing her mouth in a heated kiss. I hold her neck in my hand as my mouth explores hers, the sweet, vulnerable softness of her lips pressed against mine. I feel her naked body pushing against me, her hips grinding as my hands finds her breasts. I groan from the perfect feel of her satiny skin, her nipples pebbling with each stroke of my thumbs. Her desire is mounting as I kiss her. With every touch, I elicit little mews and gasps from her pretty mouth.

  I push up, gently moving her so that she is now on the bed and I am over her, she pinned beneath me. I brace myself with one hand as the other cups her breast. I take my mouth from hers with a moan of regret as my lips travel down her naked skin, past the flushed skin just under her neck. My tongue laps at her collarbone. Her hips rise as my mouth travels lower still to her nipple. I flick out my tongue, taking her nipple in my mouth, sucking. Her head drops back, her mouth open as she writhes.

  “Ohhhh,” she sighs, as I continue to tease her breasts with my tongue, but move one hand between her legs. Her hips push together, effectively barring me from touching her.

  I lift my hand and spank her thigh, a sharp swat. “You will not prevent me from touching what is mine,” I growl, pushing my hand between her legs again, spreading her thighs apart.

  “My… my lord…” she stammers, her thighs still closed together. She is stubborn, tenacious, willful. I thrill at the challenge to tame her.

  “Open your legs,” I growl. “You do as I say or I shall take you across my knee a second time. Do not try me, Carina.”

  Her eyes closed, biting her lip, she slowly spreads her legs apart. I inhale deeply, intoxicated by the scent of her. It is not merely fear I smell but all of her—the sweetness, the sultriness, the arousal.

  I slowly stroke my finger along her inner thigh, the back of my fingertip just grazing the warm, soft skin there. She pants, her hands holding onto the breadth of my shoulders.

  “Why do you resist?” I ask her, my mouth just beside her ear. “Do you not wish for me to pleasure you?”

  Her breath is labored, her body tensed beneath me. “If you… I…” she begins haltingly. “I am not… prepared for coupling,” she says. “I am terrified of your size and strength. I have never experienced anything like this before.”

  Her honesty pleases me. She will be rewarded for being so frank.

  I kiss her warm temple, brushing the hair from her face.

  “Sweet girl,” I murmur. “I am not preparing to claim you. Not now. Not yet.” My length presses against her as I talk to her. “Though it is not for lack of desire for you. I have punished you, and it is my pleasure to now minister to you.”

  She eyes me curiously. “Minister to me?”

  I nod, bracing myself above her so that our eyes meet. “It is the way of Avalere. As your master, it is my duty to train you in obedience. But after I’ve punished you, it is my duty to minister to your needs. To tend to your body. Comfort your mind. Help you heal in all ways from the punishment you have received.”

  She shakes her head. “The ways of Avalere are strange.”

  Her comment amuses me and I chuckle. “I could say the same about the ways of your people, little one,” I say. “Now will you allow me to minister to you, or shall I be forced to take more drastic measures?” I let her imagination form what drastic measures I will take. I have my methods.

  Her knees fall open. She is watching me warily, but she licks her lips. My eyes focus on hers as my finger traces a pattern from her navel to her thigh.

  “Relax, Carina,” I say, as I move my finger to the apex of her thighs, to the sweet spot I will pleasure, but not until I am ready. I trace my finger just over her mound, the warmth of my touch ever so gently teasing her. I move my mouth to her breasts again and flick my tongue to her nipple with slow, lazy strokes, as my finger traces along her sex, barely touching her, moving so softly, she lifts her hips to meet my hand.

  I take her nipple wholly in my mouth as I move my fingers between her delicious folds. She gasps, her fingers threading through my hair and holding tightly, her hips jerking from the touch. I release her breast. “I said relax, little one,” I order. She nods. She is trying.

  I slowly stroke upward through her folds until I find her sweet spot. I circle, watching for visible signs of her pleasure. Her eyes are shut, her hands still grasping me as she grinds her sex against my hand. “Very good,” I croon. “What a very good girl. Allow me to pleasure you, now.” I stroke over and over, each brush of my finger against her causing her to writhe beneath me.

  “Ohhh,” she moans. “Please.”

  It is both my duty and reward to pleasure her.

  I bring my mouth to hers and kiss her as I continue the deliberate strokes of my hand, gradually increasing the tempo of my movements. I kiss her, her soft mouth upon mine while I stroke her. She moans in my mouth, tearing her mouth away as she reaches the pinnacle of her pleasure. She gasps, writhing, a cry of ecstasy escaping, as she rides the waves of pleasure. I continue to stroke her until her breathing slows. Gently, I take my hand away from her womanhood. I kiss her head, lifting her so that she is tucked against my side. She curls up beside me, grasping me with her arms about my waist. She seems shy now, turning away from me. I realize that she is not used to such bold frankness.

  “You are beautiful,” I say. “And you will do as you are told. Will you not?”

  She nods. “Yes, my lord.”

  I kiss her forehead again. “I am glad, my Carina. For though it is my duty to pleasure you, it is my duty to instruct you. Obey me, Carina, and there will be no need for me to punish you again.”

  She nods. She will disobey me again. And I will punish her again, this I know. She is too willful and I too exacting for it to be otherwise. But for now, I will focus on making sure she is taken care of.

  Chapter Nine

  Carina

  I lie in the arms of the king. He is strong, his arms folded around my frame. I can feel his latent power and strength beneath me, above me, surrounding me, as my heartbeat slowly begins to settle. I have never felt anything so exquisite in my life as I have just now, as he brought me to ecstasy. I want him to hold me forever. The thought of his warm embrace leaving me has me near tears. I must be held, must be comforted, must be reassured that everything is going to be fine.

  Because I’m not fine. I’ve experienced a painful punishment unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. My backside aches from the lashes of his belt. Though he was angry, he was in control the entire time. This was not an act of brutality I’ve experienced, but rather retribution for my disobedience. I knew when I made my choice what he expected of me, and I chose to take the risk of being caught and punished, but I was unprepared for how the punishment would make me feel. I didn’t know my fears would surface, my worries about never returning to my homeland of Freanoss. Nor did I know that I would weep. Crying is discouraged on Freanoss, as emotion is a sign of weakness. We are taught to train ourselves to suppress such emotion. But there are no reasons for tears on Freanoss, in such a regulated environment. Here, it is quite different. Fear, anger, longing, and now… ecstasy.

  I am also angry. If what the king says about my people is true, then I am furious I have never known such brutality existed on my home planet. Have the Freanossian accusations against Avalere been false? Where, then, does that leave me?

  You come from a land that ends the life of humans past their prime, and infants who bear marks of imperfection.

  He is mistaken. He must be. It is not possible such things happen, and I have no knowledge. But as I lay in his arms, I remember. Though my work on Freanoss kept me removed from the elderly and the innocent, I have not forgotten things that I have seen. And now I wonder, as I am no longer cloaked in the darkness of ignoran
ce, how much of what he has said is true.

  After all, I was told on Freanoss that coupling was a base and vile act, and until now, I have never experienced the exquisite pleasure the king has brought to me. I squirm at the memory. I was so vulnerable, laid so bare before him that now I wish to hide myself from him. I now bury my face on his warm chest, his arms encircling me, the dark hair on his chest prickling my cheek. How could I have allowed him to touch me like that? But as I squirm from the memory, I wonder. How could I have not?

  I feel his warm mouth come to my forehead and kiss me again. My mind is teeming with unanswered questions, but as he holds me, a strange sensation overcomes me. There is an emptiness, a sort of gnawing in my belly. I hear a strange growl come from my own body. I start, unsure of what I’ve just felt.

  “Relax, little one,” he says. “You are merely unaccustomed to feeling hunger. Come now, sit up and I will fetch us food.”

  I shake my head from side to side. I wish to stay right where I am.

  He sighs. “Carina,” he chides, his voice in a deep warning tone. “When I give you an instruction, I expect immediate obedience. If I ask you to get up, you do not shake your head at me. Defy me again, and even now, you will find yourself stretched across my lap for punishment. I am loath to punish you again, but if you continue to defy me, I shall.”

  I certainly do not wish to receive another punishment. Reluctantly, I pull myself away from him. When he is no longer holding me, his arms no longer surrounding me, I feel a desperate sort of longing. I feel a lump rise in my throat. I look away from him. I dislike how my body is behaving unexpectedly. He has seen all.

  He reaches a hand out to stroke my cheek. “It is as it should be then,” he says softly, almost as if to myself. “My little one even now clings to me.”

  My eyes fill as I look to him, my vision suddenly blurred. I frown, unsettled by the uncontrollable desire to weep yet again. “What do you mean?” I whisper.

  He tucks a damp piece of hair behind my ear. His dark eyes, so fierce and stern just moments before, now look upon me tenderly. “I told you once that we were fated,” he said. “You are my mate. I have claimed you as my own. And as we grow together, it will become more difficult to be separated.” He smiles. “You will see.”

  I frown, looking away. I dislike the idea of being somehow dependent on him. I long for the independence I was taught to embrace. Humans should not be dependent on the other. Choosing one over another means that we are not equals, not the same.

  His eyes twinkle as he lifts the bell to ring it, his stern lips twitching. He thinks it amusing that I like the bell so much, but there is something magical about it. The sound resonates in the small room, and minutes later, I hear a knock at the door. I gasp, crossing my arms on my chest. I have just realized that I am still naked.

  He lifts me as if I weighed no more than a feather, holds me over one shoulder, pulling back the blanket. He then lays me back down and brings the covers up over my shoulder. I hiss as the cool blanket brushes against my punished bottom. He frowns, but quickly turns away and raises his voice.

  “Come in,” he says, his deep, booming voice resonating in the chamber. To my surprise, I feel a pulse of desire deep down in my belly. There is something about his stern demeanor and his deep voice that causes my nipples to harden beneath the blanket. I squeeze my thighs together. Is there magic in this man? Am I enchanted? But no, I know such things do not exist. I have been taught they are the mere fabrications of little minds.

  But how else can I explain the enigmatic pull of this man on me?

  Lystava enters, bowing before her king, and places a silver tray on the table. Her eyes flick toward me, still covered beneath the blankets on the bed, and quickly, she looks away, scurrying out of the room. When the door shuts, he addresses me.

  “Come here, Carina.”

  “I’m not clothed, my lord,” I protest.

  He merely turns to me, scowling, and lifts a heavy brow. I quickly toss off the blankets and come to him. He points to where my tunic lies. “If you are more comfortable, you may wear that. For now. It is best you are to be dressed when I call Idan to me,” he says.

  I cross the room and lift the tunic, slipping it over my head. It falls, free of wrinkles, and I feel an odd mixture of emotions. I should embrace being able to conceal my nudity, yet with my body now covered, I feel as if my attraction toward the king is muted.

  He gestures for me to take a seat, so I obey, hissing as my bottom hits the chair. He purses his lips, frowning. He is not sorry.

  He hands me a glass of something hot, steam coming from the top of the cup.

  “Easy, Carina,” he says. “It will burn you if you drink too quickly.”

  I nod, taking a tentative sip. It is warm but bitter, and I dislike it. He chuckles, and I look at him in surprise.

  His eyes are crinkling as his deep laughter resonates in the room. “You don’t like the tea?” he asks. “It is meant to bring nourishment and good health. You should drink it.”

  I look at him, trying to see if he is testing me. Must I drink it though I dislike it? But he shakes his head, taking the cup from me, handing me a piece of bread with something golden smeared on it. “Eat,” he orders. I take a small bite as he rings the bell again. The response is immediate, and I wonder if his servants flank the door outside, prepared to do his bidding.

  “Lystava, fetch Idan for me,” he orders. She hastens to obey as he eats a large slice of bread and eyes me. I do enjoy this, and he nods appreciatively as I eat, first the bread, then berries and cheese. I am beginning to be familiar with some of the food of this land, and I even look forward to the meals. “Feeling better, little one?” he asks. I nod. I do.

  A knock comes at the door, and the king tells our visitor to enter. Idan enters, a leather strap crossing his bare chest and ending with a holster at his hip. He looks prepared for battle. The king eyes him, frowning, his eyes darkening. He is harboring anger toward his friend for what happened earlier today. Idan falls to one knee. “My lord.”

  “Rise.” The king’s tone is crisp. A shiver goes through my body. Though he can be gentle, his latent power and authority are fearsome. I know it, and Idan does as well, as he fairly trembles before the king. I am holding my breath.

  “Your failure to obey me today might have been costly,” he said. “It was by mere chance we were able to save both my people and my woman from danger.”

  Idan swallows, nodding. “I am sorry, my lord—” but the king cuts him off with a flick of his hand. Idan silences.

  “Sorrow does not change the circumstances. Today, you will take upon your shoulders the duty bestowed on me. You will attend the counsel, report to me your findings, and do your duty by deciding the outcome of any disparities. It is a long, arduous task ahead of you, and will take you until dusk settles this evening to do what you must. You will write the details of the meeting for me and have them delivered within an hour of close of counsel. Do you understand what I am asking of you?”

  Idan nods. “Yes, my lord.”

  The king waves his hand. “Then go.”

  With a bow, Idan takes his leave as the king turns to me. “He will perform my duties today,” he says. His eyes are gleaming as he lifts a goblet to his mouth and drinks deeply. “We will be undisturbed for the remainder of the afternoon.”

  I nod my head slowly, curious what the afternoon will bring.

  * * *

  It is now midafternoon, I surmise. We have eaten our food, and now the king rises. “It is time you see the lay of our castle,” he says. I wonder at his choice of words.

  Our?

  He stands me in front of him and runs his fingers through my hair, as if to tidy it, then spins me around, looking over my dress. “Very good,” he murmurs to himself. I am not sure what it is he approves of, but if he is momentarily appeased, it is fine by me. He draws me close to him and kisses my forehead. I wonder if this is the custom in his planet. He has done this now several times to m
e, and it never fails to make me feel quiet and pleased.

  “Do you need to freshen up?” he asks me.

  I have no idea what he means, and shake my head, bewildered.

  His eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles. “I am going to parade you through the caste so you know your whereabouts. Do you feel comfortable as you are?”

  I still do not know what he means, so I merely nod dumbly.

  His lips twitch upward. “Before the next feast, I will see to it that Lystava prepares you properly. You will then see what I mean.”

  He extends his arm, and I finally realize it is his wish that I hold onto him. I reach tentatively for his large, muscular arm and when my fingers meet his skin, he draws my hand close to his chest, as if holding my grip to him. He opens the door to the room, and we exit into the hallway. As earlier, when we enter the hallway, as we pass servants, they stand tall and at attention, though none flank our sides as if to guard us this time, as he leads me.

  “The dining hall,” he says, extending his arm to where a long, gleaming mahogany table stands in the middle of a large room, lined on either side by chairs.

  “What do you do there?” I ask.

  He chuckles, deep and low, as he speaks to me. “I forget how strange your ways are,” he says. “That you do not know what transpires in a dining hall. It is where we feast, little one. I often take my meals there, but it is my preference that while you acclimate yourself to living here, I will allow you to eat with me in my chambers. I frequently take my meals alone when I am busy with my duties. But soon, you shall dine with me in the hall as well. You will see, eventually, that the dining hall has a place where we receive guests as well.” We continue, and he gestures to a room that is adjacent to the large hall. “There, they cook the food.” His eyes twinkle with humor. “This is called the kitchen.” I feel my jaw drop open. It is remarkable to me that they have an entire room dedicated to the mere use of feeding themselves and an entire room dedicated to the preparation of food.