“Bend over.”
“No.”
He released my hair, but struck my bottom, hard and fast and I cried out. “Bend over, mate. I warned you what would happen if you didn’t release my cock. It’s time for your punishment.”
Silence stretched between us for long minutes as he waited for me to make my decision. If he’d pushed me down or forced me to submit, I would have fought him. Instead, he tortured me with choice.
I knew what I wanted, even if I didn’t know why. And I knew when the spanking was done, he’d give me what I wanted. Him. His cock. His heat. His mouth. He’d make me twist and cry and beg.
He’d make me scream with pleasure.
Looking away, I slowly lowered myself over the table, the pillow cushioning my hips where they would have pressed against the edge.
“Good.” He moved around to the other side where I could not see. “Now raise your hands and grab the edge.”
Lifting my arms above my head, I slid my hands along the small table until I found the edge and wrapped my fingers around it.
One huge hand clamped down on my wrists, followed quickly by rope. I had no idea where he had gotten it, but within seconds I was tied, my ass in the air, my hands secured. “Markus!”
“You don’t get to speak.”
“But…”
Smack!
The sharp sting of his hand on my bare bottom made me jerk, but the table didn’t move and I realized it must be bolted to the floor.
Markus walked behind me and I could feel his presence, the hot energy of him drifting behind me. My cheek was pressed to the hold table, and I didn’t have enough room to lift my head to swing it to the opposite side so I could track his movements. My hair had fallen over my face, partially obscuring my view. I felt like I was under a blanket, unable to see.
His hands roamed my back and ass then, gliding and soothing me. “Are you ready for your punishment?” Even before I answered, he struck.
After three hard, quick spanks my bottom already felt like it was catching fire.
I groaned at the sharp sting, at the way my body was stretched over the table. My tiptoes reached the floor, but that was all. I could not shift my hips or move away from him as he spanked me, the fire of his hand moving through me like molten lava every time he struck my tender flesh.
I counted until he reached twenty, but then the heat reached my neck and my face, a strange, euphoric heat that made my spine tingle, my skin heat, and my entire body succumb.
“You like my hand on your ass, mate?” Markus leaned close, his hot lips brushing the tip of my ear as his hand rubbed my ass with gentle strokes to calm the fire.
Closing my eyes, I bit my lip so I would not answer. I didn’t want him to stop. Not yet. It felt too good. I wanted him rough and wild. I needed him like this. I needed him to cover me with his body and fuck me from behind, fill me with his cock, and make me beg for release. I wanted it more than I wanted air or food or home. It made no sense, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to question, or think about tomorrow. I wanted him.
“I asked you a question.” He swatted my thigh, not hard, but enough to make my body jerk in reaction to the new source of pain, of pleasure. “You should always answer when your master asks you a question.”
“You’re not my master.”
His hand froze where he’d been stroking me over the small of my back, the heat like an inferno. “You are mine. Do you deny it?” He nibbled on my ear, his hand unmoving.
When I remained silent, he stood. “I see.” He walked behind me and I heard him move to the opposite side of the room. I missed his touch, his heat. I had no idea what he was doing, but I heard odd noises. Drawers opening and closing.
Footsteps. Silence.
When I could bear it no longer, I opened my eyes, but could see nothing but the fall of my own hair covering my eyes. “What are you doing?”
As if I’d broken a spell, he placed his hand on my hip and I nearly sighed in relief. “Giving you what you need.”
The deep rumble of his voice moved through me and I shivered. “What? What do you think I need?”
“To lose control. To stop thinking.” Something hot and oily dripped onto my bare bottom and he rubbed my ass with it, gathered more and pushed the tip of his finger into my untouched entrance. “To break.”
His words were a seduction all their own and I held perfectly still as he worked more of the oil inside me. I knew what he was going to do, or at least I thought I did. But he praised me, his crude words making my pussy clench on emptiness.
“So hot. So tight. So perfect.” He had one finger inside me and he pushed just enough. I felt a slight pop and burning and then he was deeper, all the way inside. “I’m going to fuck you here. But not yet. For today, this is about learning to obey your master.”
I wiggled as much as I could. I didn’t want him to pull free, I wanted him to do more, fill my pussy with his cock. Stretch my core with two or even three fingers. Spread me open and take me both places. Make me ache and want and burn.
My fingers tightened on the edge of the table as he removed his fingers and I felt something smooth and cold pressed to my tight rosette. Coating everything in oil, he worked it into my ass slowly. The thing had ridges, crests, and valleys that burned, then popped free, then burned again. After long minutes, it was fully seated and my ass was full and aching at the invasion.
“Who is your master?” He pulled the plug out just far enough for one ridge to pop free.
Oh, yes. I knew where this was going. And I wasn’t done playing. Pushing. Testing. “Not you.”
He chuckled and pushed it back inside, fucking me once. Twice. The third time, he pushed it in all the way, the final crest the largest yet and I whimpered as it stretched me to the point of pain. “Not yet done with your lesson, I see.”
Leaving the plug pushed so deep I could feel the base pressed to my spread cheeks, holding me open, he stepped back, his hand striking my bottom like fire.
The sound of flesh striking flesh made me pant against the table, the plug moving inside me with every strike of his palm. My pussy was drenched with welcome, the air a constant chilling reminder that my body was his.
He struck until I was moaning, until wet welcome dripped down my leg. He dropped to his knees behind me and ran his tongue along my inner thigh, tracing the wet path back to my core. “It would seem you enjoy your punishment too much, mate. Time for a different tactic.”
“Please.” I didn’t want him to stop licking me. I wanted his tongue fucking me, stroking my clit, sucking me until I came all over his face.
He flicked his tongue over my sensitive place and I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped.
He rose at the sound and ran his hand up and down my back. “You’re mine, Octavia.”
I didn’t deny him. I couldn’t.
The hot head of his cock pressed to my heated core and I whimpered again, desperate to be filled.
With both hands, he pulled my bottom wide and pushed inside my pussy, spreading me open, filling me impossibly full. With the plug still in my ass, I was too full. Stuffed. Owned. Overwhelmed.
Buried to the hilt, he leaned over my back, covering me like I’d longed for when he first tied me down. One hand traced my side, the curve of the underside of my breast, then up my shoulder to my neck until he wrapped his fingers in my hair and tightened his hold. With a gentle tug, just enough to sting, he angled my head up as my pussy clamped down on him like a vise. We both moaned.
“I’m going to fuck you, mate. I’m going to ram my hard cock into your pussy until you scream.”
“Yes, sir.” I didn’t want to fight him any more, I didn’t want to resist. I just wanted to feel.
With a shift of his hips, he pulled out, plunged deep. “Say it again.”
“Yes, sir.”
He fucked me again, harder this time, the plug pushing deeper, stretching my ass with a burning pain that was echoed by the width of his cock stretching my
pussy and I stopped trying to hold back, my keening cry of need filling the room as he did it again, and again, pulling my hair just hard enough to make me feel completely under his control. Dominated. Conquered.
Safe.
I stopped wondering what he was going to do, stopped worrying about holding back and surrendered to his touch. There was nothing I could do but accept his cock, his touch, his power over me.
With a soft growl of sound he released my hair and placed both hands on my hips. Thankful for the pillow cushioning my hips, I lay before him as he pounded into me hard and faster, each thrust rubbing inside my pussy, filling me, moving the anal plug in and out until my entire existence narrowed to the feeling of his cock plunging in and out of my body.
A storm built inside me, the waves crashing along my nerve endings and building in power until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I screamed as I came, my pussy spasmed around his cock, greedy and out of control.
He gave me no respite, fucking me hard and faster, forcing me to another crest before the first one had fully ended. I clawed at the table, my vision going dark as my entire body tightened, then exploded.
With a shout, he followed me over, his cock jumping and jerking deep inside me, filling me with his seed. And greedy bitch that I’d become, I wanted it all. I wanted to roll over and keep him locked inside me, keep him close. Like this.
I didn’t want to face him, to talk. I didn’t want to think about anything but his cock, the way he mastered my body. The way he made me feel cherished and safe and completely out of control all at the same time.
Emotions flooded me as I came back to myself. Too many to name. Too strong to keep contained. My eyes flooded with tears and I cried, my cheek still pressed to the table, a flood of salty tears beneath making my skin a wet slide against the cool surface.
A sob gave me away and Markus pulled free to leave me disconnected.
Alone.
The single sob turned to more and Markus gently pulled the plug from my bottom. Seconds later, I was untied and pulled into his arms. He carried me to the bed, cradled in his arms like precious cargo and I leaned my damp cheek into his chest, too worn out to try to hide anything from him.
Big and warm and strong, he held me, his hand cupping my cheek. My ear rested over his beating heart and I let the steady rhythm soothe me.
“Octavia?”
“Yes, sir?”
That earned me a gentle, approving squeeze from his arms. For some reason, that tenderness made me cry more, not less. It hurt in a way I was finding difficult to understand.
“Listen to me, mate. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to fight. I want to tell you the truth, if you’re ready to listen.”
“About what?”
“Your people. Mine. The slave traders on Lunar One.”
I tightened my fingers into fists. He spoke with absolute conviction. But he couldn’t be right about the slavers. Trading Zatari women as slaves was impossible. All the women I knew would choose to die before succumbing to forced servitude. “You’re wrong. You have to be wrong.”
Markus raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I don’t lie. You should know that by now. Read my thoughts. I won’t resist the touch of your mind. Then you’ll know the truth, if you can accept it.”
Before I could react he was talking again. “What do you think happens once your Fier Potion hits the world markets?”
The abrupt change of topic, his ferocity, caught me off guard. Zatari was known for two products: technology and Fier Potion. Our ships were the fastest, most elegant, and most expensive small spacecraft in existence, the medical units healed faster than any other. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
And Fier Potion? A diluted version of what they used during the breeding ceremonies was sold as a ‘love potion,’ an aphrodisiac. My people were wealthy in no small part thanks to that small yellow flower and the sensual side effects of its petals.
He was reading my mind again. “It’s not diluted. It’s concentrated, used to sexually enslave men and women from many worlds by the thousands. Most become addicted and die after a few short months. So, the slavers are always looking for fresh meat.”
I shook my head. No. It had to be lies. There was no proof.
“My little sister, Selene, disappeared at the hands of slavers a few days ago. I left my home to track her abductors. And do you know where that search led me?”
“To the Fier fields?” The heat radiating off his body was like a soothing balm, but his word were ice to my system. He cupped my cheek with his palm as he lifted my face to his. Potent male energy vibrated in the air around his body like a halo. The power in his blood sang to mine, pulsed with a life of its own in the small space that separated us. Newly awakened, my body sang back, rang in my ears, made me achy, overly sensitive to his presence. His thoughts filled my mind moments before he spoke the words and I realized, if I wanted to, I truly could read his mind, discover his secrets, as easily as he read mine.
I was just as powerful as he was!
Shock held me frozen as he continued.
“Yes. My search led me to your precious flower fields.” The unforgiving pressure of his forehead came to rest against mine as he leaned down, connecting us. “It led me to you, mate.”
Chapter Nine
Octavia
I staggered back into the solid wall of his arm. I shoved against the hard expanse of his bare chest to no avail. He was a rock. Information flooded my mind through our bond. I squeezed my eyelids closed in shocked self-defense, tried to block the mental invasion. Memories of his search for his sister played in my mind, as vivid as if I’d lived each moment myself. Facts, knowledge about Fier Potion. Slavers. Pain. The helplessness he’d felt when he’d been drugged and tormented. Fear for Selene. The terrible gleeful frenzy in the Zatari elders’ minds when they’d caught him and put him in chains.
Markus’s honesty forced me to see my people as he did—hypocritical, cold, unnatural, and merciless.
The elders had captured him in those fields, trapped him there with slaves trained to be soldiers. Owning slaves was forbidden in Zatari. Forbidden! Yet the elders used more than a dozen to trap Markus, used Fier Potion to lock his mind so he could not influence them or read their minds, couldn’t reach out to anyone for help. They drugged him for the breeding ritual so he couldn’t use his powers to save himself, and to ensure his death.
For as long as I could remember, the elders preached celebration of Zatari independence. All that time, they sold Fier Potion. In effect, they actively helped to enslave people all over the quadrant and in every other star system within reach. And they knew! Those bloodthirsty old bitches hid the truth… and drugged their own people.
Everything I’d believed in, my entire life, the story of my family bloodline, was a lie. The knowledge pressed in on my chest to the point of pain. Equal parts rage and pain burned behind my eyelids. Rage won. All my life I’d lived with honor. I loved my sister. I loved Mira, and my mentor, the elder Lady Hathra. I loved them all, but I’d not blacken my soul for blood-ties to liars. Murderers. Slavers…
I opened my eyes for what felt like the first time in my life. I could almost see the cold steel blade of knowledge sever the last ties of loyalty running from my head and my heart to my past. In the back of my mind, I could hear my older sister, Larissa, the High Priestess, calling me back with promises of comfort and family. Perhaps I should feel a great loss. Instead, a great burden fell from my shoulders, shame for desiring the man holding me. Guilt for setting him free. All that weight floated away as if no more than a dream.
No matter what happened now, I was free. Free in a way I had never been before. At last I could choose my own life without remorse.
“I’m sorry for your sister, for your capture, for all of it.” An uncontrollable impulse forced me to wrap my arms around his waist, to press my cheek against the solid wall of his chest and allow my skin to melt against his. “I’m so sorry. I’
ll help you find her. I’ll send a message to Mira. She’s my best friend, and the best tracker in Zatari space. If anyone can find Selene, she can.”
Beneath my ear, his heart beat a steady rhythm. Peace invaded my entire body until I felt I could float away in it.
Tomorrow I would leave this place, this man, and find a way to let the women who mattered to me know the truth. I had to confront my sister with the truth. I must tell Mira. I would find a way to tell everyone who would listen of the elders’ betrayal.
And if Larissa knew? If she played a role in this? I found it nearly impossible to believe that the High Priestess of Zatari did not know exactly what was going on. The Fier flower was sacred, under the protection and control of the priestesses who served our people. I’d always been proud of that fact, until today. If Larissa knew…
That one hurt the most. My own flesh and blood.
I would worry about that tomorrow. But first, I wanted another taste of the one thing I’d never be able to keep.
I turned, straddling Markus as I dropped my lips to his chest and let my tongue slow-dance over his skin. He groaned and pulled my naked stomach tightly against his rigid length. I inhaled his spicy scent. Wet heat erupted in my core at the smell of man. My man. A blast of hot air shot my words over his nipple. “Markus, I want you.”
“No.” He remained rigid and proud, but he did not move to get away and I held out hope he would surrender to me as I had to him. His hands rested on my hips, holding me in place. He was too big for me to force. But there were other ways…
A smile crept into my voice. “No?” I sucked his nipple into my mouth. My fingers glided over his face and neck, his chest down to his stomach, then lower, until I held his hot length in my hand. The shaft jumped.
“No, Octavia.” But he pushed into the heat of my palm.
Attention focused on his other nipple, I sucked, pulled, and bit. For the first time I was in control of his magnificent body. When I glanced up, I saw his head thrown back, teeth clenched, pleasure carved in his features. He would not deny me. One time, at least once, I would ride him.
Mates of Zatari 01 Claiming His Mate Page 7
