* * *
“Fuck your goddamned lemons!” Ellie screamed down the hallway in the general direction of Mary’s room the next day as Fie threw her over his shoulder. He had finally caught her after a very long and unwelcome game of hide-and-seek that had begun as soon as he showed up outside her room with a syringe. “Keep that thing away from me!”
Mary and Peyton both stuck their heads out from their doorway, looking like they had been naked for their own purposes. They gawked as Ellie disappeared around the corner, each wearing identical confused frowns on their faces. “It’s worse when you resist,” Mary told her, stepping out into the hallway. “Let it happen!” Before Ellie was carried around the corner, she flipped Mary off. That was easy for her to say; Mary wasn’t being used as a guinea pig or a pincushion!
She struggled again and tried to kick her legs against Fie’s chest, which was quite an exerting task, but it seemed to annoy Fie. “If you don’t stop being ridiculous,” Fie threatened her between gritted teeth, “I’m going to tell your husband how difficult you’re being.”
“Yeah? I’m shaking in my boots,” Ellie spat in reply. She’d been spanked by Graham a couple of times, of course, and she would rather not be spanked again, but she had a feeling that an eight-foot-tall giant like Fie wasn’t going to go crying to his commander because he thought dealing with her was too hard.
“You are the sassiest little creature I’ve ever come across in my life,” Fie muttered, shutting a door behind him and inclosing them in the small, sterile room before setting her down. “It’s gone far beyond ‘colorful.’”
“Gee, thanks,” Ellie replied crisply, putting her hands on her hips to begin her final stand-off.
Fie merely gave her a sidelong glance and straightened before turning to a table near the door, the top of which was at her eye level. She couldn’t make out what he was doing, but then she heard him snapping on gloves. She frowned and then began to inch toward the door. When she was close enough, she launched her whole body toward the opening mechanism, only to hit the door with her full strength when it didn’t open. After crashing against it with a ‘thump,’ she fell back onto the floor. Fie stared down at her through this, looking bored and annoyed. “If you were my mate, I would make sure you never sat comfortably again,” he told her with a grumble. He shook his head. “And I used to think my sister-in-law was a troublemaker. You have singlehandedly raised my standards on what hard-headed means.”
“I don’t feel very hard-headed,” she wheezed, rubbing her hand against her forehead, which had hit the door along with her chest. After she stopped seeing stars, she remembered to be indignant at his mention of how she needed to be spanked. Her cheeks then burned. “And just so you know, I think the fact that I’m physically forced to do anything is a shit deal. It’s unfair, and I think you all know it, but don’t care.”
“I don’t even understand your complaint,” he stated. “Your role is very simple, little one, and you are very advantageously mated. Commander Masterson will be admiral of the fleet one day in the not too distant future. On our planet, he is famous! He is very popular there, and very wealthy. You’ll have every comfort through your life, and every privilege. Most females pray daily for such a mate.”
She considered this, a strange, unpleasant feeling going through her chest as she felt jealousy of any woman who ever wanted him as well as some sort of pride that he was important. And then she dismissed both of those emotions, which she told herself were merely hormonal, with a wave of her hand. “Well, then he should have mated one of those females,” she finally said with a haughty wag of her chin. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble.” She scuffed her toe against the squeaky floor beneath them. “And role? What role?”
“Your role is to be supportive, obedient, to satisfy him sexually, and to bear him children,” he replied without emotion, his eyes on whatever he was doing at the table.
She took a deep breath, but the extra oxygen didn’t make her feel any better about his response. “Yeah, okay,” was all she could say to this painfully chauvinistic explanation. At least Graham hadn’t come out and told her what he expected of her so bluntly. She hoped that her tone explained what she thought of that statement when she said, “Can I go already?”
“You haven’t even received the injection yet,” he stated, and then held up something long and thick. So long, in fact, that she couldn’t quite place what it was until a liquid squirted from the top, and then it struck her. “You’re sticking that in me?” she cried, taking three steps back. “That’d go through my arm and punch a huge hole in it!”
“It’s not for your arm,” he sighed wearily. He turned to her. “Take off your pants and bend over.”
She crossed her arms and made a serious effort to remain calm and communicate clearly. “Not a chance in hell.”
“We can do this the easy way or—” he began.
It looked like the only two options were to square off with him or bend over and try to get things done with as quickly as possible and to move on with her day. The fact that those were her only options was extremely annoying to her, and she squared her shoulders and prepared to choose the hard way. “Somebody’s gonna get bit in this room, and it’s not gonna be me,” she warned.
“Please,” he said, pinning her with an ominous glare. “Please bite me. I’d love that.”
She pursed her lips and they continued to silently glare at each other for a long moment as she tried to decide on an escape plan. They were distracted from their silent cold war when the door behind Fie beeped and then slid open. The doorway filled with Graham’s form.
Immediately reading the situation, he said, “What’s going on?”
“I’m thinking how high I’d have to jump to be able to kick both of you in the nuts,” she snapped, spinning in his direction. “This is not happening, Graham! Read my lips! Not. Happening.”
Graham seemed less than concerned by her proclamation. He took a deep breath and said, “Really, Eleanor, wouldn’t the easy way be better for everyone here?”
“Better for you!” she argued.
He looked up at the ceiling and then stepped further into the room. He waggled his fingers at Fie after the door closed behind him. “Well, get to it, Doctor.”
Fie reached out and grabbed her around the waist while her jaw slackened at Graham’s lackadaisical disregard for her wishes. When she snapped back, scolding herself inwardly for being surprised that Graham was a giant dick from which there was no escape, she began to fight against Fie. But, brute as he was, she was bent far over his knee with her nose nearly hitting the floor and the bottom of her legs captured by his knees before she could say, “Get your Sasquatch hands off me!”
He did not get his Sasquatch hands off her, however. She felt one gigantic hand grab both her pants and panties and yank them down below the bend of her knees in one quick movement, and then she jerked her head toward Graham and screeched, “Graham! Tell him to get off of me!”
Graham, for a husband who had painted himself as her ‘protector’ several times, seemed less so at the moment, because he just crossed his arms and watched. “I hate you!” she screamed, and then as her hands were pinned behind her back she turned her head up toward Fie and demanded, “Put me down!”
“Need any help?” Graham asked Fie conversationally over her shrieks.
“No, I got this. Don’t—” he suddenly said, jerking his leg as Ellie closed her mouth around his calf. She froze as his palm covered the whole of her bottom in warning, “even think about it.”
“Eleanor, if you don’t start behaving this moment, I will assume that you’re ready to begin your anal training. And that’s after I make you a sorry, red-bottomed little girl. Now stop fooling around.”
Her cheeks burning and her stomach churning with butterflies at the sheer mention of anal training, particularly around anyone else, she thought better of biting Fie.
“Okay,” Fie said as soon as she forced herself to stop struggling.
His tone was now much less threatening and much more clinical, as it normally was. “This is very small. You’ll feel a little tiny stretch, maybe, but it’s not anywhere near an anal sensitivity test or a plugging. I’m going to apply something to make it slide in as easily as possible.”
She didn’t like the sound of any of that. “You’re putting that thing in my ass?” she asked with incredulity. Inwardly, she knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She had known as soon as she saw ‘the injection’ that it was going to go either in her vagina or her bottom. She had been hoping more for the former.
Although maybe not. She didn’t like that she was somewhat aroused. She hated herself for it, but Graham was just beyond her reach and watching this with… a hard-on? That rat bastard.
In any case, she hoped neither of them noticed that she might be a little—or more than a little—wet between her legs. It was humiliating, and the last thing she wanted them to think was that she was enjoying this on any level.
“Yes, now here we go,” Fie said, his tone flat. Her thoughts all ceased as she felt some sort of greasy lube applied to her bottom by Fie’s finger and then something hard and the width of her own index finger pushing inside of her.
“Whoa!” So this was the probing. It did push her anus open more than she would have liked, but the sensation seemed to send a bolt of arousal straight to her loins. The stretching burned slightly, but then it subsided within a few seconds. Eventually a small, creamy slush coated the insides of her bottom. The texture, warmth, and feeling made her blush as it brought the memory of the way Graham’s seed felt inside of her.
Oh, so slowly, Fie began to pull the probe out of her. “Just let it sit there for a moment,” he told her. “It has to absorb into the walls of your rectum. I know it probably feels weird, but the sensation will subside within five minutes.”
Her cheeks were now so hot that they were paining her. Perhaps that was because her head was upside down, but she worried the sensation was from the crippling amount of mortification. She decided it was time to start to stare at the floor and imagine that she was all alone, or better yet, that she was still back in her bed at home and she’d wake up any minute.
Time couldn’t be moving any slower, and after she caught Graham—the evilest husband ever—adjusting his crotch, he seemed to want to fill the air by talking to Fie in Swarii.
Her blood was boiling. If they had any difficulty being fluent in English, perhaps she wouldn’t have minded them switching into Swarii whenever they wanted. However, they spoke English with obvious ease. Jio, who hadn’t even known a word of English, was already beginning to pick it up himself, sometimes conversing in whole sentences already. It made them speaking in their own language around her annoying and rude in her mind, and she had let this be known.
She stopped herself before she chided them on acting like she wasn’t there, since she remembered that she didn’t want to be there either. She didn’t even want to be looked at right now, and at least the light and nearly musical tones of their language made her forget her own arousal. She felt like she was quickly getting control of herself. Yet as long seconds ticked into even longer minutes, she began to lose that sort of wisdom. “Why am I still here?” she whined.
“Give it another few seconds and then I’ll stand you up,” Fie replied simply.
“Just relax, Eleanor. It’ll be over in a moment,” Graham chipped in, waving his hand as if she was just being hypersensitive.
“Every moment I’m forced deal with shit like this,” she told him, “is another moment where I am plotting my revenge. It will be swift,” she assured, “and it will be terrible.”
“I have no doubt,” Graham said, but with an annoying pedantic tone she didn’t appreciate at all. He and Fie exchanged a few words then, and blessedly, Fie finally released his hold on her.
She stood up very slowly, reaching back for her pants at the same time and clumsily trying to pull them up. Not that it mattered, she knew. They probably had seen everything she was now trying to contort herself to hide.
“Believe it or not,” Fie said with an aloof air that she felt lacked apology, “you’ll be glad you took the serum in just a day or two.”
“I bet,” she seethed. “Can I go now?” she then demanded, wanting to burn the place down.
Graham gave her a chiding look, but then stepped aside from the door. “Sure. You know, if you’d like, I have a couple of hours before I take the helm if you’d like to—”
“Kick you in the nuts better be the end of that question. And yes. I would like to do that!” she bristled, unable to even conceive of how large his balls had to be to think she’d fuck him right now. Not that she wasn’t in the mood—her hormones were her worst enemy nowadays—but she would easily deal with that if it even brought the tiniest amount of displeasure to him.
She pushed by him, pointing up her middle finger as she went.
She heard Graham’s footsteps behind her soon afterward. He walked slower, but his gait was so long that it didn’t take many steps before she felt him grab her upper arm and spin her around to look at him in the hallway. “For the record,” he began, his voice crisp and his face pinched with frustration. “I don’t care that you didn’t like that. It was necessary. I have had to deal with your attitude for the last couple of weeks, trying to please you, but your determination to not make any aspect of our relationship smooth for me is becoming daunting. Why can’t you just learn to cope with things? Why can’t you even try to meet me halfway?” He gave her a little shake. “You’re not stupid. You know how to make things go more smoothly, but you seem to want to pretend that I mean nothing to you and I’m forcing you to be here against your will.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she returned stiffly. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. After all, you’ve been kidnapped, molested, then forced into some sort of cosmic marriage with someone nearly two feet taller than you who loves to chastise you like a child in public or wherever he wants and forces you to do things you don’t want at every turn. Especially with the stress you might be feeling over your identity and trying to cope with your physical reaction to someone you wouldn’t even have had a second date with if you had your druthers.” She tilted her head to the side and said, “No, wait. That was me.” And then she spun back around to continue stomping off.
He turned her back around and he wasn’t quite as cowed as she hoped her set-down would have made him. “You’re not the only one with a story. You’re not the only one forced into this relationship!” he hissed. After he said it, however, regret filled his face and he softened his tone. “And we’re not the first. Lots of people have trouble adjusting in the first year. We’re getting used to each other, and we’re bound to be one of those couples. We came from very different lives and have had very, very different experiences. The Union will tie us together in the end, and sooner if you let it.”
“It would help if you stop being a pompous, overbearing dickhead!” she snapped.
“And it would help if you stop being a whiny, belligerent, dramatic brat!” he shot back.
Then once again, the heat swirling from her loins to her chest, their bodies slammed together and she was pressed up against the wall with her arms and legs wrapped around him, her fingers digging into his hair, and their tongues warring against each other, in the span of a second.
There really was no getting away from this asshole.
* * *
As Graham kissed his little mate for all he was worth, it did strike him with a bit of shame that she knew exactly where his buttons were already. She was already getting foul-mouthed again, and he was just letting it happen. It seemed like there was always so much to fight her about.
But even fighting her was sexy. He couldn’t exactly explain it, because he didn’t understand it himself, but when she was arguing with him, he normally got as hard as a rock. This was no exception. And now, when he should either be taking his belt to her sassy rear end, or at least pulling his own hair out by the ro
ots with frustration, he had her up against the wall, was between her legs, and had started grinding his hardness across her belly.
He could blame this urgency to be inside her on the sickness, but he was sure that it had already passed. This passion was going to be, God help him, their new normal.
“You drive me out of my mind,” he growled at her.
“Is that why you are how you are?” she asked breathily between deep, tongue-twining kisses.
“A-hem.” Graham and Eleanor turned toward the direction of the forced cough and noticed Braum standing in the hallway, a tablet in his hands, looking at them expectantly.
That was when Graham realized that he was going to mount her in the hallway. Graham grumbled, grabbed Eleanor by the arm—none too gently—and strode down the hallway until they reached their room. He pulled her inside and, as soon as he shut the door behind him, grabbed her and half-carried her over to their unmade bed.
She was still angry with him, if her expression meant anything, but she kissed him back anyway. When thrown down on the mattress and covered with his body, she still spread her legs apart to accommodate him.
After a moment lost in each other’s heated embrace, he pulled himself up and flipped her over. She gasped at the suddenness, and then tried to get up on her elbows as he quickly tried to get himself out of his pants.
“What are you doing?” she demanded as he pushed her chest down until her cheek was pressed against the mattress, then pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. Her bottom squirmed around like it was shy, even frightened of him.
He grabbed her bottom gruffly with his hands, splaying his fingers across it easily. He then pressed his thumb against her bottom hole, causing her to hiss. One day he was going to be inside of her right there, he promised himself, pounding his whole length into that tight little tunnel. Some women had to be stretched before that, and she was surely one of them, but he had no doubts that she would give him plenty of reason to stretch it over the next few years.
His Untamed Mate (Swarii Mates Book 1) Page 19
