by Renee Rose
But to have an honorable male, such as Lamira described—a loving mate, one who purchased her mother as a gift to her—it was a dream she’d never indulged until now. And despite her better judgment, that dream took root in the center of her chest, spreading until it consumed her. Thoughts of what it would be like to have Daneth impregnate her, bring her a gift, hold her.
He already had. Held her, that is. He’d carried her to his sleepdisk and covered her with blankets. He’d held her in his lap, in his strong arms.
What if a male like him came to love her? Was such a thing even possible? She’d only ever thought about their relationship in terms of sex. In terms of master and slave. Now that she’d heard about Lamira’s mate, she wanted more.
And that was a dangerous way to think.
Especially considering her enormous betrayal of her master and his beloved experiment.
Chapter Six
Daneth carried Bayla from his chamber to his lab and settled her gently on the examination table. She carried the future of the Zandian species inside that incredibly precious body of hers. He wanted to drop to his knees and worship at the temple of feminine vessel.
Bayla seemed nervous, though, and a desire to comfort her took precedence, even over starting the examination he was so eager to perform.
“This won’t hurt, little girl. No shots today. I won’t strap you down if you promise to hold the position for me.”
Pale-faced, her eyes seeming wider and bluer than usual, she nodded rapidly. “I’ll do whatever you want, Master,” she promised.
He stroked her cheek. So vecking agreeable. How did he get so lucky? He didn’t always understand the complexity of his human’s emotions, but, thus far, she’d been remarkably easy to train. It was his own emotions he needed to keep in check.
He lifted her knees and placed her feet in the stirrups to hold her legs apart. “Scoot your bottom down toward me,” he instructed, perching on a stool at the foot of the table. She slid down, bringing him eye to slit with the ripe flesh of her pussy. An approving hum rose in his throat before he could check it.
He’d found those sorts of sounds more frequent. That morning, he’d actually been humming a song from his childhood as he entered his lab. After a lifetime of feeling impotent in his inability to help his species, he finally stood to achieve his greatest ambition.
But it wasn’t only that. It was also the soft, feminine morsel of a human who chose—yes chose—to share his chamber, who wished to serve him and this project. The prospect of seeing her through this pregnancy, of keeping her afterward, perhaps even using her for future projects, filled him with a buoyancy he’d never before experienced.
He snapped on a pair of gloves and dragged one fingertip down the pink heart of her core. Her responding shiver made him smile. The scent of her arousal made him shift on the stool, his cock suddenly heavy between his legs.
He spread her labia open and simply stared at the glistening flesh beneath.
Bayla’s inner thighs contracted. “What, Master?”
“Hush, little girl. Your master wants to examine the sweetest pussy he’s ever seen.”
Another contraction of her inner thighs, this one accompanied by a clenching of her entire pelvic floor. Her anus and pussy both tightened and lifted.
He stroked a feather-light circle around her clit. “Don’t be shy. No part of your body will ever be hidden from me. It’s mine to study, to probe, to care for. Do you believe I will care for you, Bayla?”
“Yes,” she whispered. For some reason, she sounded half broken by his words.
He touched the pad of his index finger to her clit and made a vibratory movement.
Another clenching. This time her entire pelvic lifted from the table.
“Do you need your master to give you relief before we start the examination?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you deserve relief?” He was only teasing, but when she didn’t answer, he lifted his head to meet her eyes.
Her lower lip was clenched between her teeth, and worry creased her brow.
He shook his finger over her clit again. “Are you going to beg for your master’s cock again?” The image of vecking her ass while she was in the stirrups filled his mind and wouldn’t leave. He should be more concerned with her examination, but somehow its importance receded.
He pushed his thumb into her pussy, dragging a choked moan from her. “Hmm?” He tapped her anus with his middle finger. “Do you want me here again?”
“If it pleases Master,” she murmured. Her words sounded demure, but she’d spread her knees wider, lifting her pelvis and pushing her pussy onto his thumb, arching to grind over it.
“I think it would please your master.” He yanked off his gloves and took two pumps of lubricant from the dispenser. His cock was out and in his hand a moment later, getting bathed in lubricant. He nudged the head against her back pucker. “Does your tight little ass remember who it belongs to?”
Her anus tensed and quivered against the sensitive flesh of his cockhead.
“Hmm? Or will I have to spank it first this time?”
“No, Master,” she whimpered, and the ring of muscles relaxed.
He eased inside her, gripping her thighs to hold her steady as he slowly filled her.
“Ung…ung,” she moaned. “So big,” she panted. “Master is too big.”
“Take it.” Despite the command, he went slowly, his slave’s well-being his highest concern. He would never want to tear the delicate tissue around her back entrance. He pushed her knees farther open and toward her shoulders, lifting her feet from the stirrups. “Lie still and take your master’s cock. That little ass was made only for me.” He didn’t know why he would make such a ludicrous statement, except in that moment, it seemed true.
His cock. Her ass. He knew nothing but perfection, nothing but the glorious slide into the tightest hole, the knowledge that receiving him this way required her complete submission. To his authority. To his cock. If she tensed or resisted in any way, it would only cause her pain. Yet her surrender brought her pleasure.
He could see it in the way her eyes rolled back in her head, the slackness in her open mouth, the flutter of her belly as she drew in breath.
He thumbed her clit again, rubbing slowly and eliciting a mewl of pleasure. As he continued, her eyes flew open, knees cranked wider. He pumped into her ass with deep, smooth strokes, his thighs shaking with the effort of holding back. Because he wanted to pound into her so hard she saw stars into the following planet rotation.
“Please, Master,” she pleaded, alarm registering on her beautiful face. The alarm that accompanied the blinking red readout on his arm cuff. Ninety-five percent aroused. Orgasm imminent.
He angled his hand down to shove his thumb in her pussy, the heel of his hand grinding down on her clit.
She screamed, body trembling, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
“That’s it, beautiful. Come for your master.” He vecked her harder, his cock pounding into her ass until he, too, wanted to beg and plead for release. “Hell, yes,” he shouted, plunging in deep and staying there while he vecked her pussy with his thumb over and over again to her screams.
She wept through her climax, coming all over his thumb, her anus tightening so much it strangled his cock and probably hurt her.
He waited until she finished before he eased out, murmuring soothing endearments as he stroked a hand down her sweat-glistened belly. “Sweet girl. Beautiful girl. That’s my good little slave. You took your master’s cock so well, didn’t you?”
Bayla’s legs flopped open as if she’d lost the ability to hold them up. Her beautiful breasts bounced with her heaving breath. He stroked her clit tenderly. “Good girl.” He dampened a washcloth and cleaned them both before he settled back onto the stool.
Even then, he wasn’t in a hurry to begin his examination. He leaned forward and planted a tender kiss at the apex of Bayla’s sex. He wanted to bottle the sighing
sound she made and replay it through the day, reminding himself of how she made him feel like a vecking hero.
But he had work to do—important work that he loved. He slid the probe inside her vagina and flicked open the hologram projection of the interior of her uterus. There—the embryo. He leaned forward for a closer look, zooming the projection up. Had the embryo implanted in the wall of her uterus?
If it had, it was only barely. It didn’t look the way he’d expected, the way the research had shown a human embryo would look after in vitro implantation.
All the sluggish pleasure from his orgasm evaporated as he stared at the hologram, consternation twisting in his solar plexus.
He needed to check her hormone level. Immediately. He stood abruptly, causing her head to jerk up, but he didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he paced to the counter and prepared a vial and needle to draw her blood.
~.~
Bayla tensed, holding her breath. What had Daneth seen? Had she succeeded in her attempt to thwart the pregnancy?
The tension radiating from Daneth ought to be a good sign to her, an indication she had succeeded. Why, then, did her belly churn like she was going to vomit?
“I thought you said no more shots,” she said when he returned to her side with a needle, though she knew the difference between a blood draw and a shot.
“I need a blood sample.” He spoke curtly, without looking at her. Totally preoccupied with his thoughts.
“What is it?” She didn’t know why she tried to get information out of him now, when he’d never been inclined to share with her.
He punctured her arm, and she looked away, hating to see the blood leave her vein. “It’s over,” he clipped a moment later, surprising her. Despite his consternation, he still seemed to be in tune with her reactions.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, hating the heaviness tugging at her solar plexus, weighing down her chest.
Daneth moved with graceful precision as he performed some kind of test on her blood. His low curse at the results ratcheted her tension level higher. What did it show?
When he returned to her side, he held a syringe. “I misspoke earlier. You do require a shot today.”
She nodded quickly because she deserved whatever pain he gave her. She deserved a lot worse than the prick of a needle.
He jabbed it into her flank and injected her with whatever he deemed necessary. She wasn’t going to ask the contents this time. There was none of the intimacy of being held over his lap this time, only the quick, practiced movements of a physician with his patient.
Her chest ached.
Daneth removed the needle and lifted his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His apology stabbed her heart. She was sure which was worse—the heaviness in his voice or the irony that the one time her arrogant doctor lowered himself to ask her forgiveness, she didn’t deserve it.
“Is everything all right?”
“The implantation does not appear secure, and hormone levels are not where I expected them. I’m going to monitor you closely over the next few days. Hopefully, I can encourage the correct environment to support the embryo.”
She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed to hear the pregnancy attempt wasn’t over yet, and the confusion, the not knowing only increased her nausea. “I don’t feel well.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Daneth caught her in his arms before she managed to hit the floor. “What do you mean you don’t feel well?”
“I need to throw up.”
He set her back down and handed her a receptacle, which she filled with her breakfast. “Baby,” he said softly when she finished, sympathy dragging out his tones. “I’m sorry. It was probably the hormones. I’ll get a washcloth.” He returned with a warm, wet towel, which he used to wipe her mouth and face. “Come, sweetness. Let’s get you into bed.”
She couldn’t bring herself to protest the tender treatment she certainly didn’t deserve as Daneth scooped her into his arms and carried her to his sleepdisk.
She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep.
What had she done? Her very soul was ripping from her body.
She wondered if she’d made a mistake. A horrible mistake.
~.~
Daneth knew Bayla’s scent was wrong the moment he woke the next morning. He’d noticed she didn’t smell as sweet the planet rotation before but had convinced himself he was imagining things. But, now, as she lay sprawled out like a sleeping goddess on his sleepdisk, he couldn’t deny the slightly metallic scent to her flesh. No being with that aroma could maintain a pregnancy. Gathering her to his chest, he crooned softly in her ear as he picked her up and carried her to his lab. “Sorry to wake you, beautiful girl. It’s all right.”
“What is it?” she croaked, rubbing her eyes. He eased her onto his table. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink from slumber, and her dark waves fell across her face in messy perfection.
“I need to check you again.” He put on his gloves, lubricated the probe, and inserted it into Bayla’s warm body. The hologram verified what he already knew in his heart. The embryo had failed to implant. No sign of it appeared on the projection.
A great weight descended upon his shoulders.
“What do you see, Master?” Bayla whispered, eyes wide.
“It didn’t take.” He dropped his head into his hands, the disappointment too huge to conceal.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice wavered. When he lifted his gaze, he found her lower lip trembled and tears glistened in her eyes.
“Bayla,” he choked, his throat closing. “It’s not your fault, sweet girl. I don’t know what went wrong.” He stood and sighed. “I suppose I should check your hormone levels again. The cocktail I gave you must not have been the right formulation for your particular body.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t understand it.”
Bayla lay still as he collected a fresh sample of her blood and tested it. Like the previous planet rotation, the sample did not show the rise in hormones he had expected with a pregnancy, even when he’d augmented them with synthetics.
Veck.
Well, at least he had one remaining egg. He could try to create another embryo. It would be his last hope.
~.~
Guilt crunched like broken vows in her belly. It scratched at her skin, rasped in her throat.
Daneth—her master who had shown her more patience and kindness than any master she’d had, the male who lost control every time she used sex as a weapon—suffered greatly because of what she’d done.
He’d said little all planet rotation, but he’d rubbed his face or buried his head in his hands more times than she could count. He’d worked in his lab for the entire morning then, the rest of the planet rotation, he’d paced and frowned and rubbed his face some more.
She gnawed her own lip raw watching him, experiencing his distress as if it were her own.
Had she made the wrong choice? She’d only been trying to protect herself. She hadn’t wanted to be used as a vessel, to have another child taken from her. But now she felt profoundly selfish. Daneth was trying to do something big—much bigger than himself. His desire to create a Zandian child was not for his own gain, but to save his species. And she’d destroyed his best chance at it.
Worse still, she wasn’t sure she wished him success with his last-ditch effort to create another embryo. Because she would be the receptacle. She would be losing another baby.
But maybe it would be worth it. A sacrifice for the species. Not her species, but not a bad species. No one wanted to see a species go extinct. Not when there was a chance to save it. Yes, it was her duty. If Daneth was able to create another embryo, she would offer her body up. No more parsley tea.
“This evening is our weekly meal,” Daneth told Bayla when he returned to his chamber.
She sat up from where she’d been lounging in her open cage.
“Every ten planet rotations we eat. We all dine together in the grea
t hall. You don’t have to come, but I’ll bring you if you like.”
She crawled out of the cage. “I’d love to.” She’d been bored as hell since she arrived on the pod, not that she was complaining. She’d been enjoying the lack of work and the luxurious surroundings. But getting out and observing the Zandians interacting together would be far better than staying cooped up alone.
“I bought you some clothes.” He tossed a wrapped package on the sleepdisk. His face sagged, appearing haggard and tired, as if he’d just passed forty planet rotations without sleep.
No one had ever bought her anything before. Despite her guilt, she couldn’t stop the pitter patter of excitement that rose up in her as she peeled back the paper of the neatly wrapped package. Inside lay a silky blue garment, the exact shade of her eyes. She picked it up and gasped. The fabric was so soft and fine, it slid through her fingers like a live being. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
Daneth didn’t reply, only glancing absently in her direction before changing his clothing. The light had truly dimmed behind his eyes, leaving nothing but a shell of the male she’d come to...love? Surely not. Yet why else would she care more about his fate than her own? Care enough to sacrifice what was left of her mothering soul to give up another child?
`She slipped it on—a skin-hugging sheath that clung to her curves all the way to her knees. The halter top tied behind her neck and plunged into a sexy vee between her breasts.
Daneth turned and then stopped, his mouth falling open. “Oh veck. You can’t wear that.”
She tugged the hem of the dress down, ran her hands over her hips. Did she look too round? Too risque? “Why not?”
Daneth rubbed his jaw. “I’ll have to fight the unmated males off you.”
“I’ll take it off.” She wasn’t about to be contrary with him that night, not after she’d caused his present state of misery.
