His Rebellious Mate (Primarian Mates Book 3)

by Maddie Taylor

  “In a moment.” He gave her a gentle pat. An instant later, his fingers applied the cream he spoke of. Cool and soothing to her heated skin, he took his time massaging it in. “You’re barely pink, little rebel,” he said after several minutes had passed. “I went easy on you this first time.”

  “You call that easy?”

  “Yes. Test me again and you’ll earn double, or a stout strap.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” It sounded as barbaric as it was, but if so, why did the heat rekindle between her thighs?

  His hand didn’t stop its tender rubbing, even as he blew out an exasperated breath. “When will you realize you are mine? To spank, to bring to pleasure, to breach when the time is right, and to love into eternity once we are bonded. With you, I dare everything.”

  The hand on her back slid into her hair, fisted, and angled her head for his kiss. Voracious, invading, and unbelievably hot, it ended quickly, like it began.

  In a blink, he rolled off the bed and strode to the door, saying over his shoulder, “I have business to attend to. Rest. I will be back in time to help you get ready for supper.”

  Then he was gone, leaving her on her back, breathless for so many reasons, and staring up at the ceiling, trying to process it all. Although he’d made her come twice, his kisses left her aroused, her body vibrating with need for more of his masterful touch. Never in her life, except with Ram, had she felt this feminine and unusually submissive.

  A sense of unease welled inside her, like she had betrayed her people. How could she have succumbed to a handsome face, broad shoulders, the best kisses she’d ever tasted, and his glorious tongue that made her melt wherever he applied it? Scolding herself for the lewdness of her thoughts, she replayed every moment—her senseless escape attempt when she had nowhere to go, Ram’s anger, his dominance, and the consequences he administered for her actions then his tender care after the punishment. She seemed off the rails, while the old-fashioned, domineering, alien abductor seemed like the rational one. Even the spanking had been measured, controlled, and he had discussed her behavior and reminded her of his rules—arbitrary in her opinion—before he’d begun.

  She didn’t understand her lack of control, and how easily she’d yielded beneath his hands and few heated kisses. Not an easy lay by any measure, but determined, stalwart, stubborn—the latter something he’d already called her.

  Rolling onto her side, she punched her pillow into the shape she liked, while considering her crazy situation. As an officer, she gave orders and took the lead. In what reality would she want to be submissive to a man?

  Maybe it’s only for this man, a voice whispered in her head. Admit it, he’s growing on you.

  “Yeah, like mold,” came her grumbled response to the empty room.

  Scowling, she pulled the covers up to her ears.

  He was too potent for her own good, and, if being honest, not as bad as she’d expected—except the spanking, which really smarted. But the sting had passed. If not for the warmth and the residual tenderness on her backside, she would have forgotten it already, thanks to the incredible oral sex… Holy cow! No one had ever rocked her world so hard, and then after, he’d been so gentle. But she couldn’t…wouldn’t let it happen again.

  As she snuggled deep beneath the covers, the warmth of the automatic bed seeped into her bones, soothing her muscles. It didn’t do much for her tingling bottom or the ache between her thighs, but she relaxed anyway. And where she hadn’t had much sleep for days, her eyes drifted shut.

  * * *

  No, don’t go to sleep. Bad things happen on the other side when we sleep.

  But stubborn Eryn-from-the-past didn’t listen and began to doze.

  And as she did, the swirling fog of the nothingness between the two worlds swept the real Eryn away.

  14

  Pain—excruciating, awful pain—returned to ravage her head, and now it had expanded to her belly, both dragging her into the present. A loud persistent rattling of metal didn’t lessen her discomfort, and she heard an odd clicking noise close to her ear. She also slowly came to realize she was shaking, violently. Though stressful and uncertain, her dreams weren’t anywhere near as frightening as this.

  “Can’t you give her something to make it stop?”

  “I’m giving her something, though if she needs more, I’m afraid we’ll suppress her respirations too much or harm the baby.”

  Ram and Juna were talking about her again. He sounded frantic, and Eryn recognized the worry and frustration in her doctor’s brittle tone.

  “She can’t go on seizing so often, can she?” he asked next.

  Ah, that explained the shaking, except she’d never had a seizure in her life. What was going on?

  “You’re right, she can’t. That’s why we need to deliver this baby,” Juna exclaimed. “We’ll administer a spinal block which is less risky to her lungs.”

  No. It’s too soon. Don’t let her do this, Ram. Her mind cried out to him, frantic to make him hear, but the effort was futile.

  “Will she wake afterward?”

  “I hope so, but the trauma to her brain, combined with the stress of the pregnancy, and now labor, I’m afraid some of her body systems have begun shutting down. Her kidneys are failing, and I’m worried about her lungs. Once the baby is out, we’ll be able to be more aggressive in treating Eryn.”

  “Ellar, are you sure she can’t be moved up to the ship?” Her heart ached at the panic in her fearless warrior’s voice.

  “It’s too dangerous to teleport in her condition, Ram. And a shuttle trip, as I’ve explained, could be too much for the baby and might be fatal for Eryn.”

  “Then transport your equipment here,” he demanded.

  “Impossible, I’m afraid. It’s hardwired into the ship and powered by its engines. I’m sorry.”

  “Faex!” A loud crash followed his visceral curse. “What’s the point of medical advancements if we can’t fucking use them?”

  “Let Dr. Juna do what she needs to,” Ellar urged. “She’s correct. Once delivered, we can try some of our medicines that would have been harmful to the child.”

  “You’re certain this is the only way?”

  “This is the safest plan, Ram,” Juna advised. “But I need to do it now, before she worsens.”

  After a long silence, his raw, throaty response came. “Yes. Do it.”

  Do what? Were they discussing a C-section? Riddled with waves of pain in her head, belly, and back, Eryn struggled to comprehend all that was happening. Then, she couldn’t think any more because they moved her, rolling her onto her side. A bright light flashed, and a tidal wave of overwhelming agony swept over her.

  She prayed for release from the torment, to return to her dreams, where she could at least escape the unrelenting pain. As if thinking it made it real, she slipped beyond her hospital bed, outside of the room she’d never seen, leaving the familiar, yet worried voices behind, and faded into unconsciousness. This time, she welcomed it.

  * * *

  Wishes sometimes do come true.

  She opened her eyes to find herself free from the pain. And since dream-Eryn sat perched on the edge of Ram’s bed across the room, she knew she’d returned to the observer role, an added relief. The head popping and body swapping had become too darn traumatic. It meant she would sacrifice the taste of his lips and the other good stuff, however, so it was a tough call.

  Ram came into the room, removing his clothing as he did so; she decided to think about her dreams later and focus on the view, instead.

  It appeared his presence distracted the other Eryn, too. Although she glanced away, trying not to watch while he got ready for bed, she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering back, giving sidelong glances as he tugged the tunic over his head. The glimpses of his strong, golden-brown body made her pulse beat wildly. She wanted him, enough to make her nipples peak to pebbled hardness.

  Her gaze shot to the other Eryn. Wait. I’m not in dream-Eryn’s head, seeing
what she sees, but I can hear her thoughts, sense her emotions, and feel her body’s response. Mmm…like the tingling between her legs that increased with every inch of flesh Ram revealed.

  The scene seemed familiar, but she couldn’t recall all the details, including where they’d been before this. She strained to piece the events together, but they didn’t come. Something was blocking her. It could be the intense waves of sexual energy rolling off the woman on the bed, muddling her thoughts.

  Searching for a distraction from the sight of his well-muscled, powerful chest, Eryn dragged her eyes away, picking at the bed covers. “Why do they call you Master Ram?”

  Hands on the button of his waistband, he paused, glancing up at her in surprise. “It is my name. I thought you knew.”

  “Your mother called you Master at birth?” she rejoined in disbelief.

  A grin tilted his sensual lips, the deep rumble of his chuckle bursting free. She’d never heard him laugh, and the low, rich sound invaded her being, awakening every nerve ending, and set flame to her desire.

  Great, chalk up another factor on the irresistibility scale. As if good looks, strength, a captivating scent, and the sheer masculinity he exuded from every pore weren’t enough.

  She eyed him with suspicion when he lifted the sheet and climbed naked into bed. But he didn’t make a move toward her, lying down on his side, head in hand, his midnight black hair, most often held back in control, falling loose around his muscular shoulders.

  The pull grew stronger with each interaction. Holy crap, she was so screwed.

  He surprised her by answering her original question, which she had already forgotten.

  “Ram is short for Ramikin, the name given to me by my parents at birth. Master is the shortened version of Master Warrior, my title. Some simply call me warrior, as they do the men I lead, but, with so many of us, it tends to get rather confusing.”

  “Oh,” she replied, the contrast of his golden-brown skin and the white linens distracting her. Eryn blinked, trying to focus. “What is Master, a rank, like general?”

  “Not so lofty, but it is a revered position. I am an expert with weapons and warfare, skilled in hand-to-hand combat. My job is to oversee the training of our Primarian Army and ensure they are always battle-ready. Since I have an aptitude for strategies, I assist the general with planning and execution of military operations. I also advise the Princep as part of his leadership council.”

  “That sounds like any general in any of my world’s armed forces.”

  “On Primaria, there is only one, who is Trask. To call us the same, again, would lead to confusion.”

  “Mm…” she murmured, considering all he’d said. One thing nagged at her. “You won’t require me to call you Master, will you?”

  Kinky scenarios filled her head—women in restraints on their knees bowing to large men dressed in black leather. The hair on her arms stood on end, and her pulse picked up a notch. Whether from fear or excitement, she couldn’t be sure, but the images brought up ideas of deference and control, like the Primarians demanded of them.

  “Ram will do fine, Eryn,” he assured her, stretching out his arm to trace a fingertip down her cheek.

  She shifted away, his light touch causing her nipples to tingle and tighten. Clearing her throat, she rolled onto her back while furtively rubbing the hard peaks with her crossed arms, trying to gain some relief.

  “Um, so…” Not ordinarily so inarticulate, she was finding chitchat difficult with a naked man lying in the bed next to her. “Do you come from a long line of warriors? On Earth, the calling to serve seems to run in families.”

  The strategist, not allowing retreat, moved forward, closing the gap between them. “My father wanted me to serve others in his vocation. I had other ideas.”

  “He wasn’t a warrior?”

  “No. He was one of our leading scientists.”

  “Was? He’s passed?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. And your mother?”

  “Also, gone. She died in the Rain of Fire. My father followed a few years later, after an unexpected illness. Twenty years have passed.”

  “You were still a boy.” They’d both lost their parents at the same age. “I’ve heard bits and pieces about the disaster that killed so many of your people. It’s what led you to seek out mates outside of Primaria, correct?”

  “Yes. The meteor storm killed thousands, and radiation sickness took many more in the following weeks and months. Of the females who survived, infertility afflicted most—including my sisters. It left no Primarian untouched and affects us to this day.”

  ”We’ve had many natural disasters in our history, but none with such widespread and lasting impact on our population, until now.” Thinking how hurricanes, droughts, and floods overwhelmed her home planet, brought up memories of her mother. A relief worker, Nicole Lockwood had often traveled abroad to help in the aftermath of devastation. The last time followed an earthquake. When an aftershock ended up being “the big one,” it killed tens of thousands, including her mother. The loss changed her life, and the twenty-year-old memories still had the power to hurt; she tried to push them away.

  “You have known loss, too, little one.” Not posed as a question, his fingertip trailed along her down-turned lower lip.

  “I lost my parents a long time ago, same as you.” Empathy reflected in his gaze.

  She took a deep breath, not willing to dwell on her own painful past, and guided the conversation back to him. “How many sisters?”

  “Five.”

  “Five!”

  With the same long finger, he tapped her on the nose. “Yes, which means I’m familiar with females of all ages and temperaments. What about you?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to get into the details of her hurtful past. “The USIF likes loners for their deep-space crews. But, please, finish your story. I’m curious. How did you go from scientist wannabe to Warrior Master?”

  “Master Warrior,” he corrected. “And I wasn’t this ‘want to be’.”

  She smiled when he enunciated the Earth slang term.

  “From a young age, I wanted nothing more than to become a warrior and defend my people. When not at my studies, I was out playing war games with my friends.”

  “What did you do? Go against your father’s wishes?”

  “You’ll discover soon enough, going against the head of the family isn’t often done in my world.”

  Not liking the sound of that, she rolled her head his way.

  “Don’t look so worried, galita. As your head of the family, I will show you the way.”

  She liked this even less, but kept silent while he shifted onto his back, bending one arm up behind his head. The bunching movements in his chest and brawny arms distracted her from thoughts of authoritative heads of household, and the consequences to her butt. And when his sheet slipped low to his hips, exposing a maze of the defined ridges and smooth planes, she forced her gaze to the ceiling, trying to focus on their conversation, instead of the ripped Adonis lying next to her.

  “Never destined to solve mathematical equations, design new mechanisms, or to dabble with the chemistry set Father got me when I turned eight, I knew my path led elsewhere. In a twist of fate, the tragedy allowed me to circumvent my father’s wishes for his only son.”

  “How so?” she prompted when he didn’t go on.

  “The night of the meteor storm, I got the chance to prove myself. My parents left me safely at home while they went to volunteer in the search for survivors. But I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. So, when the flaming rocks had ceased crashing down from the sky, even as the ground shook with aftershocks, I ventured out to see how I could help. The city was in chaos, emergency services overwhelmed, with every available warrior and man of age heading to the worst of the impact zones in the mountains north of the city. Screams alerted me to a dozen men and women trapped in a burning building here in town.”

  Caught up in the story, she roll
ed on her side, imitating his previous pose by propping her head on a hand in order to see his face.

  “The ground floor doors were engulfed in flames or blocked by fallen debris. Another exit was in a construction area, but it had been bolted shut for safety, an irony that hasn’t escaped me. By the time I arrived, the fire had reached their fourth-floor location, and smoke was already rolling out of many of the windows.”

  “What could you do, as a small boy, alone?”

  His eyes shifted to hers, his lips twitching. “I don’t think I’ve ever been small. I hadn’t filled out, however, and was skinny enough to fit through the air vent, using bolt cutters and a pry bar.”

  She sat up and twisted toward him, eyeing his broad chest and the equally impressive breadth of his shoulders. “I can’t imagine you as skinny.”

  “I was a late bloomer.” He grinned. “Anyway, two members of the elder council were trapped in the building. I managed to free them before the fire swept through the last remaining chamber.”

  “And, as a reward for your heroism, they pulled strings for you, didn’t they?”

  “Strings?” His sleek black brows gathered at the unknown idiom.

  “Made it possible.”

  “Yes. They sought me out in the weeks following the horrifying night and, out of gratitude, offered to give me my heart’s desire.”

  “What did your father say?”

  “He was disappointed, but the pride he felt in my actions held more sway than anything, and he agreed. I entered warrior training the following year with Kerr and Trask.”

  “And followed your dream of defending and protecting your people.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it? That was my dream, too.” She stretched out on her back again, and the silence lengthened between them.

  “I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already said.”

  “How about you will free us and let us return to our mission. If not, billions on my planet will suffer, and most likely die. Just as my mother did.”