by Renee Rose
Cambry didn’t appear convinced, but Lily, Lamira’s sister nodded.
He didn’t vecking like it. Leaving for war was hard enough knowing he might not return, but thinking his mate and young might be in danger while he was away flayed his chest open.
“Who will be in charge of defense here?” Lundric asked.
Zander hesitated. “I’m considering Paal, from my royal guard. He’s taken over security here since Lundric went to the training pod.”
Erick nodded. “He’s proven extremely capable.”
Lundric concurred.
“All parties will meet danger,” Lamira said.
A ripple of disquiet traveled through the chamber.
“And success?” Lily asked the question probably in the forefront of every being’s mind.
Lamira went quiet once more.
The tension in the room grew palpable the longer his mate remained silent. Finally, she said, “The chance for success is there.”
“And the chance for failure?” Lium asked.
Lamira bowed her head. “Also there. But more energy for success.”
He’d hoped for more practical information from Lamira, but she had no control over her visions. All he could do was include her and accept whatever nuggets she handed him. She’d been the one to see that the rough and tumble smuggler Rok would be the Zandian who trained and led his army, and she’d been right.
“When do we strike, my lord?” Lundric asked.
“We move into place after nightfall tomorrow. We’ll strike the following planet rotation.” He stood, indicating the meeting had ended.
Every being surged to their feet, bowing to him before they exited.
Lamira stayed back, plucking a few dead leaves from the fruit tree she’d planted in a pot in the corner.
The underlying sense of dread at leaving Lamira and his tiny son unguarded mounted. “I should send you away,” he said. “I’ll seek diplomatic sanctuary for you and little Zander at the United Galaxies.”
Lamira shook her head. “I will be needed here as well. This isn’t the time to hold back any resource. If you want Zandia we go all in. Every being, every risk. That’s what it will take.”
The cold dread swam through him. “You’ve seen this?”
She nodded. “It’s the only path to success.”
He closed his eyes against the blinding pain produced when he thought of losing one of them. “Zandia means nothing to me without my family.”
Lamira stepped closer and put a hand on his chest. “We’ll be there. Win it for us, my lord. Give your son his birthright.”
He caught her nape and melded his mouth over hers, claiming her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth.
“I love you,” he murmured.
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Don’t.” She pushed his chest.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t kiss me like it’s goodbye. Go and win Zandia for us.”
He forced a smile and leaned his forehead against hers. “I will. Zandian promise.”
Paal stood outside his chamber, not quite ready to enter. He never should have taken on the guardianship of the female in the first place. Keeping her locked in his chamber wasn’t a solution to his dilemma of not trusting her but not wanting to give her to another.
If only Lady Mina had taken guardianship of her! Then the searing jealousy that rose everytime he imagined her in the care of another male wouldn’t be an issue.
His fingers twitched over the hand panel that scanned his palm. He’d had more food sent to Leti at sunset, but he should let her out now. He couldn’t lock her up forever. What would he tell Lady Mina?
He needed to make a decision—keep her or let her go.
With a grumble, he pressed his palm to the panel and braced himself as the door slid open. He expected to find Leti naked again, or in some form of seduction. Instead, she surprised him by darting past him without a glance.
He snatched her arm and when she whirled back, he saw the fire in her eyes that he so loved. Immediately, every cell in his body fired.
Claim. Conquer.
Love.
Love? No—where did that thought come from? Ridiculous.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Am I your prisoner?” She arched a brow, telling him she’d perfectly understood her situation on the pod. She may not be completely free, but she wasn’t a slave anymore. Not under Zander’s rule, anyway.
“No.” He sighed and released his hold on her arm. “You’re not. I’m sorry, I won’t shut you in again. Not unless you prove disobedient.”
Her upper lip twitched at the last part, but he let it go.
She spread her hands. “Listen. No hard feelings, but it seems like maybe this was a bad idea. Mina meant well when she gave us a push together, but it’s clear I’m not up to your standards. It’s fine. You shouldn’t be obligated to be my master or guardian or whatever.”
His heart beat faster in his chest, breath raked in and out with far too much effort.
He should be thrilled by her understanding of their situation. They weren’t well-suited. It wasn’t going to work.
Why, then, was he dying to pick her up and throw her back in his chamber? Bind her on his sleepdisk and never let her leave again?
Instead, he stood paralyzed, caught by indecision, and Leti—clever female that she was—pressed her advantage and flounced away, down the corridor.
Veck.
He let her go, watching the sway of her hips as she moved, the lines of her long legs. Even bare-footed, in a plain Zandian flight suit, she screamed sex.
Not until she disappeared into the lift did he realize he couldn’t very well let her wander around the pod unescorted. He should at least keep an eye on her.
Except he knew where that would lead. Any time his gaze was on her, he wanted his hands on her, too. His mouth, his tongue. Why hadn’t he vecked her a second time when they returned to the pod? He was an idiot.
He forced himself into his chamber, but nothing about it seemed familiar anymore. Her scent and the aroma of food coated everything. The sleepdisk reminded him of how she’d looked lying naked, legs spread on it. The washroom reminded him of the way her hair looked down, fresh from the washtube.
Damn.
Maybe he’d just go make sure she hadn’t gotten herself into any trouble. Not that the pod provided much opportunity for that.
He took the lift to the main level of the pod and exited. The sound of female laughter reached his ears and once more, every cell activated.
Leti.
Had he even heard her laugh before? He wasn’t sure, but he knew without question the musical sound had come from her pouty lips. He rushed forward, into the Great Hall and choked.
His female stood, balanced on another warrior’s shoulders, gazing up at one of the Zandian crystal amplifiers used to bring light to the room. Two other warriors—Ronan’s damn cousins —stood on either side, their hands gripping her upper calves, stabilizing her.
All three guards’ horns were thick and extended, pointing toward his female.
“Leticia,” he barked.
She whirled and lost her balance.
He surged forward, jockeying with the other three males to catch her. His female showed no fear, though. Like an acrobat, she’d tucked and dropped neatly into the arms of Ronan, the tall scarred warrior who’d had her on his shoulders.
Leti met the gaze of her master. His eyes were wide with shock and—could it be—fear? Had he been afraid for her?
That idea shouldn’t send such a surge of satisfaction through her.
But he didn’t want her. He’d already made it plain. Maybe she needed to make it plain to him that he really did.
She leaned forward and dragged her tongue up the side of the neck of the male holding her. “Thank you for catching me.”
Rage flashed over Paal’s face, his eyes blazing pure purple.
Good.
She craved his attention
, no matter how backward it seemed. After being discarded and locked up all afternoon, feeling his intense arousal gave her a surge of power.
“Mine,” he growled like a primitive sub-species, snatching her from the other warrior’s arms and tossing her over his shoulder.
“Says who?” demanded Tarron, the biggest of the three cousins she’d just met.
Gaining their interest had been child’s play. Too bad she felt none of the thrill, none of the intense attraction Paal drew from her.
Paal hadn’t stopped for a second. “I rescued her. She belongs to me.”
“I’m not sure she knows that,” Ronan, the charming one, muttered.
“I’m going to teach her,” he growled.
For the first time, a frisson of fear traveled through her body. How angry had she made the warrior?
The Zandians seemed like a civilized species, but the doctor had said females bring out a strong possessiveness in them. Could she handle his rage?
He kept her on his shoulder and didn’t say a word on the ride, and she didn’t dare goad him into putting her down and letting her walk.
In his chamber, he dropped her unceremoniously to her feet. “Take off your clothes.”
She hid her fear, and managed not to appear seductive as she obeyed. She kept her movements swift and succinct to avoid further enraging the warrior.
Paal rummaged in the box of implements he’d brought in earlier and produced an animal hide strap. He struck his palm with it as if testing its bite.
Her belly fluttered and pussy clenched. She'd been beaten by far worse implements in her life—by far crueler masters—but something about the angry Zandian had her quivering.
She should do something to diffuse his anger before the whipping. But what? He resented all attempts at seduction.
A challenge, then. She walked boldly forward and shoved her hands down his pants, grasping the base of his cock.
Paal’s horns shot straight out, in perfect concert with his cock. His mouth opened, and he let out a feral growl. “You want my cock?” His words came out raw and rough, voice deepened. “You’ll get my cock, little female.” He backed her up against the wall and lifted one of her thighs, aiming his cock like a thick weapon at her core.
“Yes,” she breathed, wrapping her legs around his waist. It wasn’t a lie or a manipulation, no matter how it had started. She desperately wanted his shaft. Her body hummed for it. Purred for it. She needed him to claim her as badly as she’d needed him to take her away from those other warriors. “Give it to me.”
“I’ll give it to you,” he warned, thrusting deep inside her. “You’re going to get it so hard, you’ll forget your name.” He withdrew and thrust again. “How you got here.” Another hard slam. “Where you came from.” He drove her against the wall, but she barely noticed the discomfort. “All you will know,”—another thrust hit so deep she thought he’d split her— “is who owns you.”
She tried to moan her agreement, but the sounds from her mouth were incoherent. Pleasure and need coiled up together, wrapping her in a net of white hot desire.
“Not enough,” Paal growled.
She opened her lids long enough to see his tormented face, eyes screwed up with effort, like he was trying to hold back the climax they were both hurtled toward.
“Need more,” he growled, fucking her faster now, pumping in and out like his life depended on it. “It’s never vecking enough with you.” He slammed hard and shouted and the heat of his essence filled her.
Her muscles clamped down on his and she climaxed, too, but he cut it short.
“No.” He pulled out, fisting his cock and spilling the last bit of his rainbow-colored cum on the floor. “No pleasure for you. Not when you vecking tortured me out there.” His eyes flashed a warning and he lifted her by the waist and tossed her on the sleepdisk. “Standing on that male’s shoulders,” he growled, picking up the animal hide strap he’d dropped when she grabbed his cock. “Licking his neck?”
She scrambled back on the sleepdisk. “I’m sorry, Master.”
She really was. In that moment, she only wanted to please him. He’d shown her the extent of his passion and need for her and it had far exceeded her hopes.
He lifted his chin. “You will be sorry. Roll over.”
“Master—”
He tucked his fingers under her pelvis and flipped her to her stomach. “Do you have any idea what I wanted to do to those males?”
Every second of the scolding nourished her on some level she’d never been fed. This went beyond any sexual power she’d wielded with other males. It wasn’t about gaining his interest or getting him hard.
This warrior was ready to fight for her. The menace in his tone suggested maybe even kill for her.
“I’m sorry, Master. I won’t do it again.”
He shoved a pillow under her hips, lifting them for her punishment.
She covered her ass with her hands, not because she was scared—well, maybe she was a little scared—but more to slow him down. Get him to talk more before he whipped her.
He snatched her wrists and cinched them together in one of his large palms and then the whoosh of the strap swinging through the air preceded the first hard thwap.
“Ow!” she jumped and listed to the side. “Master, please.”
“Mmm.” He made a sound of satisfaction and whipped her again.
A second line of fire seared just below the first one. It was nothing in the scheme of things. It wouldn’t hurt for long, wouldn’t harm her, and yet she let up a protest. Maybe because she thought he’d like it. Maybe because she knew she could.
She rolled and wriggled and gasped as he brought the leather strap down again and again across her buttocks. “Ouch! That hurts, Master. Please.”
He didn’t stop. Didn’t hold back. “That’s right, pretty female—beg. I vecking love the sounds you make when I hurt you.”
So she whimpered. Mewled. Gasped. Cursed.
It hurt but it also satisfied her on every level. Like his passion, his anger, this whipping showed her the depth of his emotions. She loved his raw response to jealousy, loved feeling the bite of his retribution.
And maybe because her orgasm had been cut short, it made her grind against the pillow, the need for release growing with each stinging stroke.
And when it truly grew too intense—when the pain got on top of her, she begged in earnest. “Paal, please! It’s too much.”
And, miraculously, he somehow recognized the difference. Understood when it had gone far enough, because he immediately stopped, tossing the strap onto the sleepdisk beside her head.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, his huge palms gripping her ass. He squeezed her cheeks roughly with a ragged groan. “Whipping you gives me such pleasure.”
She closed her eyes, physical relief rushing through her limbs as the soft glow of satisfaction at his words melted something in her chest.
He shoved her legs wide and licked a long line from her pussy to her anus.
She jolted, would’ve popped right off the sleepdisk, but he held her down, licking around her anus, shocking all sorts of sounds from her lips. It was pleasure and embarrassment and more of that growing need all at once.
“I can smell your nectar, Leticia. You haven’t been vecked enough yet, have you?”
“No,” she whined her admission.
“Good.” His weight disappeared from the sleepdisk and she started to get up from her position, but he barked, “Don’t vecking move.”
Her pussy clenched, excitement zinging through her. She stilled, every nerve ending on high alert, waiting to see what came next.
“I vecking loved the way you humped that pillow while I whipped you, beautiful. Show me again. What were you doing?”
She reached to slide her hand between her legs but Paal caught her elbow. “Uh uh. You don’t touch yourself. Only I get to control when and how you get pleasure. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good
girl.”
He shoved his hand under her pelvis and—oh stars!—placed one of the vibrators just beneath her clit. It whirred to life, sending bolts of electric pleasure down both her legs. With one hand on her ass, he pushed her pelvis down over the device. “Grind down, female. Show me how those sweet little hips move when you’re aroused.”
She let out a fevered moan and obeyed, rubbing her clit over the device, her breath growing labored.
“That’s it,” his rumble was warm and coaxing. “I love the way this ass moves.” He pried her cheeks apart. “I can’t wait to veck it.”
Oh sweet mother Earth.
She’d been afraid of that.
Paal pumped a generous amount of lubricant into his hand and coated his cock, then applied more to Leti’s tight little pucker.
Stars, it was so wrong, but he loved seeing his marks on her ass. He’d long forgotten his anger, satisfaction at Leti’s complete and utter surrender replacing his fury with a powerful sense of pleasure.
He shouldn’t have whipped her so hard, but it couldn’t have been all wrong. It couldn’t have, because his beautiful female lay there, wriggling over the vibrator as if she craved the same release he so desperately desired.
And it was never enough. Every time he touched her, he craved more. Every minute he came near her, his emotions careened more dangerously out of control.
“You’re going to take my big Zandian cock in that tight little hole, aren’t you, female?”
She whimpered when he pressed the head of his cock up against her sphincter muscles. “Yes, Master.”
He applied a little pressure. His beautiful female pushed back at him, opening her muscles to let him enter. He went slowly, easing in, loving the little hurty sounds she made as she accommodated him. “That’s it, beautiful female,” he encouraged.
Her little moan of pleasure made it nearly impossible not to shove the rest of his length forward, but he held back, taking his weight on his arms planted beside her.
“Master.” A pleading voice.
“That’s it, Leticia. Open for your master.”
He shifted to work a hand beneath her, checking to see that the device was still in contact with her clitoris. He rolled it around as she panted and mewled beneath him. Finally, finally he fed every inch of his cock into her. The heat of her chastised flesh met his loins and the fronts of his thighs, the tremble in her legs made it hard not to pound into her.
