Kenan's Mate: A Dark Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Kleaxian Warriors Book 1)

by Sue Lyndon

  For a brief moment, I cup my bottom over my dress and wonder what it will feel like—receiving a spanking from Kenan. Will it hurt, but still increase my need for him? I can’t deny the throbbing below my waist at the prospect of being turned over his knee for play, or even for punishment.

  I’m naked by the time his heavy footfalls echo in the hallway. Naked, trembling, and filled with uncertainty. If I don’t know Kenan well enough to surmise whether or not he’s being teasing, I ought not test him.

  He enters the room and slowly circles me, twice, his stance tall and his muscles tensed. His black locks rest upon his broad shoulders in a haphazard manner, as if he’d climbed the stairs in a hurry, anxious to teach me a lesson. I want to ask if I’m really in trouble, but I’m too choked up to speak, my pulse racing faster with each second.

  When he stops in front of me and holds my face in his large, powerful hands, my shaking increases.

  “I want you to place yourself over my lap, Laylah, and offer your bottom up for your spanking.” He releases my chin and moves to sit on the bed, then pats his thigh, giving me a pointed look. One dark eyebrow is raised, and nothing about his expression seems playful.

  As I walk over to him, I pray he’s not angry and is just a good actor. Because the bed rests so high off the floor, he lifts me up beside him and then I maneuver myself over his lap. My breaths come in quick, shallow puffs, and my heart nearly beats outside my chest.

  But, despite my nervous fear, the growing ache pulses harder and faster between my legs. Before I part my thighs and lift my bottom up, in the manner I imagine I’m expected to offer myself for punishment, the heated slickness of my arousal escapes my pussy.

  The sharp intake of his breath reveals I’m having an effect on him, as does the mounting hardness of his massive erection. He cups my right ass cheek and gives it a firm squeeze.

  “You were a very naughty girl, weren’t you, Laylah?”

  A shuddering exhale leaves me. “Yes, sir.” God, I’m getting so wet. There’s no hiding the cresting level of my arousal. My face heats with embarrassment when he touches the opening of my pussy, at the core where all my moisture is gathering.

  He spreads my wetness around, trailing it over the smooth lips of my spread sex.

  “I’m proud of you for walking to me and placing yourself over my lap, little human,” he says, still caressing my aching center. “Should you earn a real punishment, this is how I expect you to behave. Should you earn a real punishment, I will expect you to submit, even if you are frightened, because you are my mate and I am yours.”

  I chance a peek over my shoulder. Relief fills me when he gives me a brief, encouraging smile, before he gestures for me to lower my head back onto the bed.

  “I am going to spank you now, Laylah, and it’s going to hurt. I’m going to make you cry.”

  “But this isn’t a real punishment. You said…” Panic swirls through me, and I squirm over his lap.

  “If it were a real punishment, a serious punishment, I would be taking my belt to your bottom or your breasts. Or I’d fuck your face and take away your ability to speak, to make you feel especially chastised.”

  “But you said you’d make me cry.” I bite my quivering lower lip, trying to hold back my emotion.

  “Tears keep you sweet. Pain keeps you sweet. Having a healthy fear of your mate keeps you sweet and submissive and always ready to be taken.”

  I shake my head against the covers. “No, it doesn’t. I’m not like Kleaxian females, Kenan. I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.” Yet, even as I protest, I understand his meaning, and maybe, maybe, I’m more like Kleaxian females than I would like to admit.

  My clit throbs and throbs, and beneath me, my nipples ache to be touched, the hardened points sensitive against the bedcovers. I’m hot all over and long for him to sink his rigid cock into me and start pounding away. At the same time, my bottom cheeks tingle in anticipation of that first stinging smack.

  The light slaps to my face had been a tease and awakened a part of me I’m only now becoming truly aware of. Before this moment, I had tried to deny this awakening, tried to ignore it. But in a dark part of my mind, a part I’ve been trying to close myself off from, I wish he’d slapped my face harder minutes ago. Not hard enough to knock me down or cause real damage, but hard enough to allow the sting to last more than a few seconds. Hard enough to send a sharp wave of endorphins rushing my head at the very instant a blast of heat seizes my feminine core. How odd, that a hard slap might produce the same submissive euphoria that his gentleness in the wake of his roughness can. But when I fantasize about him slapping me harder, this is how I imagine it will feel, and these thoughts only increase my longing for Kenan.

  Fucked up doesn’t even begin to describe what’s happened to me since I’ve become the captive mate of this huge alien prince. But maybe this is the only way I’ll find a glimmer of happiness on Tallia—if I stop trying to shield myself from Kenan and surrender to the delicious fucked upness of our relationship.

  “Laylah,” he finally says, “you are more like a Kleaxian female than you realize.”

  I know. I already know it.

  He smears my hot arousal up and down my inner thighs, demonstrating how wet I’ve become in the anxious yet delicious buildup of a promised spanking.

  Of promised pain.

  “Kenan, please. Please don’t make it hurt too much. Please be gentle.” Though I crave it, I also have a need to at least try to control it, despite knowing he won’t be swayed by my words. I want him to hurt me, but not too badly.

  His hand leaves my bottom and I tense, expecting that first slap to fall at any moment.

  “You can have your gentleness, Laylah, but not until I have your tears.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kenan starts spanking me slowly, with a long pause in between each modest slap. I suspect he’s warming me up for the harsher smacks that will undoubtedly follow. He’s promised to make me cry, after all, and I believe he will succeed.

  He occasionally pauses to prod the entrance of my pussy and even rub my clit. I start panting and thrusting my center against his hand because I seriously need to come. But when he strands me on the edge of a blissful precipice, stopping before that first wave of ecstasy washes over me, I flail and cry out in frustration.

  The spanks become harder, and the pauses to fondle my sex soon cease. My bottom cheeks are ablaze and I start squirming frantically, trying to escape his descending palm. But he holds me securely and doesn’t miss a beat as he spanks harder and faster.

  “Please, Kenan. It hurts.” I sniffle and stop struggling. There’s no use. He’s so much larger and stronger than me. If he wants to spank me until the sun rises tomorrow, I won’t be able to stop him.

  A sob breaks from me, and the first tears escape my eyes. I don’t try to hold back my crying, and there’s something freeing in not holding back. My shoulders heave as I hiccup through the torrent of tears. Kenan forces my legs wider apart and applies a series of especially hard smacks to my inner thighs.

  Oh my God, it fucking hurts. But I trust him not to take it too far.

  The spanks stop falling and he commences rubbing my flaming bottom cheeks, caressing my sore flesh as I remain obediently in place over his lap.

  “You were a very good girl, Laylah, taking your spanking so well. I’m proud of you, and I hope you’ll submit to me, come to me willingly and place yourself over my lap, or wherever I tell you to lie down, should you earn a real punishment. Do you think you will be able to do that?”

  “I-I will try.” In my heart, though, if I think he intends to hurt me especially bad, even draw blood as he’s threatened before, I don’t think I’ll be able to submit. I will try to run, and then I will only get into deeper trouble. I start crying harder because I hope that day never comes. Why must our love be so fragile?

  Love? My heart skips a beat. I didn’t really think that word. I didn’t.

  “Shh, Laylah. Your spanking is
over.” He turns me over on his lap and wraps his huge arms around me. I nestle against his chest, soaking up the gentleness he promised I would receive after my tears.

  He wipes the remaining moisture from my face and kisses my forehead. His lips are tender and warm.

  “I normally won’t spank you so hard when it’s not a punishment, little human,” he says, gliding his thumb over my cheek, right over the spot he’d slapped earlier, “but it’s been a while since I’ve seen your tears.”

  “Why? Why do you like my tears?” I ask, even as more of them fill my eyes, and even though I think I know the answer.

  A long period of silence stretches between us, so long that I think he’s decided to ignore my question. Perhaps it’s only the reason he gave me earlier—that tears and pain keep me sweet and submissive with a healthy fear of my mate. If there’s more to it, though, I want to know.

  Finally, he says, “There are many reasons. Power is one. I’m your lord and master, little human. I hold complete authority over you. I own you, all of you, even your tears.” He kisses my forehead again. “A good cry also cleanses your spirit and leaves your soul completely bared to me. Then once you’re vulnerable and stripped before me, I am the one to comfort you, to care for you in the aftermath of your tears and your pain. I wish you could see yourself from my eyes and know how breathtakingly beautiful you are during these times, when you’re crying.”

  I think it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to me. He could’ve stayed quiet, or he could have given me an evasive answer or a flat-out lie, but he confessed a truth from his heart, even if the truth is partly dark. Because, to make me cry, he must inflict pain.

  He kisses my cheeks in turn, letting his lips linger, before he moves to press a soft kiss to my mouth. “But you don’t need to cry every day, Laylah. I don’t want you fretting I’ll spank you as hard as I just did every day, merely to taste the tears on your lips.”

  “How often, then?” I whisper in a high-pitched tone.

  “When one of us craves the emotional release. I will always give you what you need, and in return you will give me what I need. We’re bonded mates, Laylah, and we are meant to share not only our lives, but the deepest, most vaulted parts of our hearts.”

  I sink further into his embrace and ponder his words. “Why did you need my tears tonight, Kenan?”

  “I didn’t need them. You needed a hard cry, little human.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but then I clamp my lips together and take a moment to search my feelings. “I-I’ve been sad about the loss of my family. But I only cried about it once. The time you were whipping my breasts.”

  “I’ve seen you blink back tears a few times, as you gazed at the moons. I decided I would make you cry soon, since you weren’t allowing yourself the emotional release you desperately needed. Tonight, after your bit of naughtiness with the wine, seemed like the perfect opportunity to give you that emotional release while also teaching you what’s expected of you during a punishment.”

  His awareness touches me. In truth, I did need a good cry. My bottom is sore and I’ll probably have difficulty sitting tomorrow, but my heart feels lighter. I’d allowed a few tears to fall onto my pillow at night as I mourned the loss of my family, but I hadn’t been able to really cry for fear of waking him.

  I pull back and cup the side of his face, and I ache for the little boy who lost his mother at the age of twelve. Since then, she’s been living on the same planet, but he hasn’t been able to see her. Such a cruel twist of fate—to be freed from the facility near Capital Acres only to lose his mother entirely. I can only imagine the mourning he’s endured himself, from the loss of his mother and the rejection of all his Kleaxian family members, save for the uncle who fostered him.

  We’ve both lost people dear to our hearts. But we have each other now. Kenan will never, ever let me go. I’m more certain of his unbreakable possession of me than I am that the sun will rise tomorrow. Heggal has explained the bond a Kleaxian couple shares after mating the first time transcends the deepest love imaginable. But, as a human, I can’t experience the bond Kenan has felt since the moment he claimed me.

  I wonder if he hopes I fall in love with him. I don’t think he’s trying to make me fall in love with him, but then he’ll never compromise his Kleaxian pride and traditions. He won’t promise never to punish me, for instance. He won’t even promise to not punish me as harshly as the woman I saw in town with thin red stripes across her back. I repress a shudder at the dark turn my thoughts have taken.

  Kenan’s eyes are kind right now. Kind and loving. I can start another argument about my disapproval of how Kleaxian females are sometimes treated, or I can lift my face to kiss my mate and revel in this tender moment.

  I decide to kiss him.

  He growls against my lips and delves his tongue deep into my mouth, taking command of our first kiss I’ve initiated. His hardness grows beneath my aching bottom, and I grind myself over his manhood. After cupping each of my breasts in turn and giving a squeeze, his hand travels south to where all my heat is gathering.

  He expertly strokes my wet pussy, drawing my moisture over my throbbing clit while he continues to kiss me breathless. I’m panting for air when he finally breaks away. My stomach does a little flip at the feral gleam in his eyes. It’s the same look he often gives me before he shoves me down on the bed and starts pounding his cock into me, until we both reach a screaming climax. Well, he growls that sexy alien growl of his, but I usually scream.

  “Scoot into the middle of the bed, little human, then lift your knees and spread your thighs wide apart. Show me what belongs to me.”

  I do as he says, spreading my legs as wide as possible. He watches me intently as he undresses. The glow from the sconces dances across his defined muscles with his every movement. He’s a work of masculine art, this huge, red Kleaxian who is my mate.

  When he heads for his dresser, my insides clench with dread. But he doesn’t retrieve a belt. Instead, he approaches me holding what looks like a small dildo. The base of it is larger than the tip, though. Unless it vibrates, I can’t fathom it bringing me pleasure comparable to his cock.

  He crawls onto the bed and drags the small toy over my clit. I shudder at the coolness of the object. He inserts it into my pussy, moving it in and out slowly, and turning it in circles, as if he’s trying to coat the dildo with my essence. As I’m about to inquire about his intentions, he withdraws the toy from my pussy and presses the tip to my bottom hole.

  “Kenan…” It takes all my self-control not to clamp my legs shut.

  “This tight hole of yours needs training, Laylah. From now on, you will spend some time each night wearing a plug such as this in your tight little ass.” His gaze darkens. “Perhaps during the day, too, depending on my mood.”

  “But why?” I give him a pleading look, though I know no amount of begging will sway him. If I try to resist, he’ll simply hold me down and shove the plug into my most secret hole.

  “I plan to claim this hole of yours soon. It’s mine to fuck, like your pussy is mine to fuck.”

  “But your cock’s too big,” I blurt out. He’d threatened to fuck my ass once if I didn’t come for him, but ever since then I’ve been most obedient in bed.

  “The plugs will stretch you and help you eventually accommodate my size, Laylah. We’re starting with a small plug, but each day you’ll take a slightly larger one, until you’re ready to take my cock.” He starts pushing the plug into my ass, but as I start to tense up, his mouth descends to my pussy.

  Oh God.

  He’s inserting the plug at the same time he’s running his tongue expertly over my clit.

  I’m too distracted to tense up, and I arch my hips and moan as pressure coils in my nether region. He takes this opportunity to shove the plug, coated in my arousal, the rest of the way inside my ass. The fullness and slight burn of my muscles stretching around the intrusion only increase the pulsing of my clit.

  Kenan spl
ays my pussy lips wide apart and quickens the swirls of his tongue, but when my orgasm approaches, he slows his ministrations and chuckles when I cry out in frustration.

  Finally, he withdraws from teasing my pussy and straddles me. He leans down and kisses me hard, forcing me to taste my essence. A naughty thrill skitters through me that I’m tasting myself on his lips while there’s a plug in my bottom hole. My skin heats and tingles with pleasure.

  He situates his cock between my legs and straightens over me, gripping my hips as he inches into my wetness. I gasp at the hugeness of him. He always feels large, but with the plug in my ass, my pussy seems smaller and tighter. When he starts thrusting in and out, a pained look crosses his face, and he glares at me like I’ve done something wrong.

  “With the plug in your ass, you’re like a virgin all over again. So fucking tight, Laylah.”

  He digs his fingers into my hips and starts pounding me harder.

  Blind ecstasy consumes me.

  I shut my eyes and scream as my release suddenly overcomes me, leaving me writhing against him as wave after wave of euphoric sensations grip me. My toes curl and my hands fist in Kenan’s hair. I don’t even remember reaching for him.

  When I finally open my eyes, he’s smirking down at me. “If I’d known having your bottom hole filled up would make you come so fast and so hard, little human, I would have plugged you long ago.”

  A flush spreads up my neck to cover my whole face. I think Kenan’s about to finish inside me, but then he pulls out and straddles my face. I shake my head and try to avoid his cock coming in contact with my mouth, but he overpowers me and shoves his hard length between my protesting lips.

  “All your holes belong to me, little human. Your pussy, your snug asshole, and your sweet little mouth will always be mine for the taking. I’m not going to come down your throat this time, Laylah, but you will suck my cock for as long as it pleases me.”

  It’s more him face fucking me again, rather than me performing any of the sucking myself. He holds my head in place and glides in and out of my mouth, though he’s not nearly as rough as the time on the patio, and he maintains a steady rhythm from the start that allows me to take small breaths through my nose at regular intervals.