His Untamed Mate (Swarii Mates Book 1)

by Korey Mae Johnson

  What Graham wanted wasn’t exactly rocket science. It had taken a little while for her to really learn what his culture wanted in a mate, but then she realized that what the ‘Swarii normal’ was, was also exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t a trendsetter. He wanted someone meek, biddable, even maternal, who would take his guidance and protection with beauty and grace.

  Instead he got a scrappy, saucy little half-breed. She understood his disappointment because she had really wanted to marry… well, a dildo. Unfortunately, she ended up getting a man who had opinions that she would have to consider or resist with an unbearable amount of whining.

  Still, when Graham punched the wall suddenly with a hard, thundering ‘bang,’ she was startled. “Call me an asshat one more time. Because I’ve put up with enough from you. Start acting female, already!” he boomed, his tone calm and his voice loud and threatening. “That’s an order.”

  She felt her shoulders pinch with tension and she was holding in breath, which she let out slowly and calmly, telling herself that Jonases don’t get intimidated by anyone. “Are you seriously trying to order me to stop working?”

  “On machines? On parts and in dirt and…” He bit his lips and took a deep breath as well. “Yes! I am ordering you to stop working.”

  She felt her throat constrict, and was unable to swallow it back open. Trying to fight the feeling, she choked, “I’m good at it.”

  “You’re good at doing what you shouldn’t do and being where you shouldn’t be and touching what you’re told not to! You’re going to hurt yourself if you continue on this path. I have no time to argue with you. You’re going to start following orders. Today. Right now.” If he did notice her having a mental breakdown, he didn’t react to it. He merely walked to the door and stomped out. She imagined if he could have slammed the door, he would have done so.

  She sat there in the emptiness of the room, listening to her heart beat and trying not to cry. She stabbed her fingers through her hair and then pulled her knees to her chest and looped her arms around them. The mere notion of not working on things was making her stomach churn. If she thought of her future, she was always working in it. Now, when she tried to think of herself actually obeying Graham, if only because even she believed that there was an amount of spanking that would make her be agreeable, then she couldn’t think of any reason for her existence. Where was the purpose of living without work and problems to solve? Even when she had first been abducted, she had been problem solving escape plans and trying to figure out Frian technology.

  Her eyes darted around the room, trying to let her gaze settle on something, anything at all, that would help her clear her thoughts, but she couldn’t find anything soothing. So she thought of her family, trying to remember some funny memory to keep her panic from rising in her chest, but then she just thought about what they would say if they were there.

  They would all just snort and tell her to tell Graham to go fuck himself. Her big brother would look for something clever to say and fall short. “You don’t have to do shit except eat, sleep, and die.” And then her cousin, Tom, would probably add something that he thought was deep like, “What’s he gonna do for an encore? Tell a bee to stop fucking harvesting and hive-building and start acting like a fly already?” And then Tim would probably add, pulling his lips from a bong, “Did you guys ever watch the Jeff Goldblum version of The Fly? That was some fucked-up shit.”

  And Penny? Penny was young, and not wise, but she called it like she saw it. She’d probably just say, “The sex better be amazing if you’d rather have that than your identity.”

  The problem was, it wasn’t just the sex. There was a strong part of her that called her to be with Graham, but that was beginning to make her wonder if he felt the same way. If so, why wouldn’t he meet her halfway?

  Surely, if she figured out something amazing—invented something that the Swarii really needed—then Graham would have to let her keep working. If he had to trade his comfort for his people’s good, he’d do it. He’d been tortured for his people, he’d die for them. He could certainly be an asshole, but at the end of the day, he was a good leader.

  “Okay,” she told herself out loud, and it felt good to hear herself let out a calm breath and stop the stifling stillness around her. “So, I just have to do something nobody’s done before and do it before Graham sees me or knows what I’m doing so he won’t stop me.” He wasn’t going to like that, she realized. She wasn’t just going to have to do something genius—she was going to have to pull it off smoothly without a hitch.

  Pulling things off without a hitch was the problem. She normally always hit a hitch or two. She was going to have to recruit someone smoother, wiser, and generally more well-liked than she was to give her some space, time, and ability to pull this off.

  She smirked. Luckily, she had an ally nearby who fit all those requirements. All she needed to do was talk her into it, then start planning whatever impossible thing she was going to do next!

  Chapter Five

  Peyton was doing pull-ups on a bar hooked to his doorframe when Ellie was carried toward the medical bay. He and Mary both listened as a shouting argument stirred up from that direction.

  Peyton for some reason thought the shouting was funny. So funny, in fact, that he began to laugh hard enough that he had to jump down from the bar to continue.

  “That girl is always knee-deep in trouble,” Peyton laughed as he heard her yell down the hallway until the sound of her voice faded. “It’s funny how she can be such a savvy slave yet so bad at doing anything she’s told.”

  Mary felt an uncomfortable tickle of embarrassment. She knew she wasn’t being supportive of Ellie, but it did seem like a lot of her struggle she seemed to bring down on herself.

  Mary sighed and ignored Peyton’s hooting. “Well, hopefully whatever he means to do with her, or to her, it’s finished and healed by the time we make it to the space station,” Mary replied as she was doing some Swarii language exercises out of an electronic lesson book.

  “Doesn’t matter, really,” Peyton replied, doing another curl.

  “Of course it matters. She wants to get off the ship as much as I do,” Mary replied offhandedly, nearly chuckling from how little Peyton knew Ellie.

  “No, I mean, you girls ain’t goin’ anywhere when we land,” clarified Peyton with such matter-of-factness, it took a while for Mary to register what he said.

  “What do you mean, we’re not going anywhere?” she drawled slowly.

  “I mean,” Peyton drawled back, climbing off the bar to give her a properly stern look. Normally Mary didn’t have to be told anything, but she didn’t like being ordered—when he did it, he had to mean it. “Neither of you are gonna leave this ship. Space stations are dangerous, Mary. It’s like the Wild West out here. There’s nothing but prostitution, gambling, drugs, piracy—you name it. Seven-hundred square kilometers of it. It’s like Las Vegas on steroids. We don’t want to have to worry about either of you while we’re conducting our business.”

  “Peyton, this ship is the smallest fraction as large as the palace. We want to get out and see something of the galaxy! Stretch our legs!” Mary stammered, her face flushed with jealousy. “I’m an adult woman. I can go where I want.”

  “No, you can’t,” Peyton assured sternly. “I don’t want to even argue about it, Mary. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  As if on cue, Thorton stuck his head into the bedroom. “Hey, lovebirds,” he said, obviously able to hear the arguing from the hallway. “Beast, do me a favor and help me lug down the hoverbike we just found Ellie working on down to the exit ramp? That thing’s heavier than hell, but it will be nice to have for me to dart to the west quarter. We’ll be parking this rig in the east dock, so without it it’d be a long walk. I think the kitten actually completed fixing it, because it even works now.”

  “Sure, bro. I’ll be right there,” Peyton replied, waving Thorton away as he went to locate a shirt. Thorton disappeared as quickly as he
arrived.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Mary said to Peyton, scrambling up from the bed and waving her hands through the air due to this newfound injustice. “You mean that you’re grounding us to the ship, but you’re still taking Ellie’s hovercycle—the one she’s obviously getting in trouble for fixing—with you? In what world is that fair?”

  “I don’t know what happened, but she obviously got a little hurt. The boss is tryin’ to keep her safe and teach her obedience.”

  “He’s trying to train her, you mean,” she argued, placing her hands firmly on her hips as she watched his tight muscles fit into his shirt. “It doesn’t quite sound like a two-way street. We’re coming with you—it’s time you learn that Ellie and I are equals. This is the twenty-first century, Peyton! You just can’t order us around anymore!”

  “This is not a democracy, Mary,” he assured, cutting his hand firmly through the air, his jaw locked. “You don’t get a vote on this one. People die at places like these all the time. We want you well protected.” He turned to leave the room.

  “That’s no reason for you to not let us come with you! Then you could protect us all you wanted,” she assured mockingly. When she saw that her words didn’t even faze his expression, she added threateningly, straightening her neck proudly, “If you don’t let us, we’ll just go anyway… Without you.”

  A muscle in Peyton’s neck seemed to twitch, and he turned back around slowly toward Mary, who was suddenly feeling a little nervous, particularly when she saw the deadly serious look on his face. He took a deep, calming breath in and out before speaking. “You do not want to do that. If you even mention it again, I will take the skin off your backside, do you understand me?” He had loomed down and positioned his face so close to hers that their noses were almost touching.

  She made a point to stand her ground and not step back. She ground her teeth. “Don’t threaten me,” she growled.

  “It wasn’t a threat, darlin’. It was a promise.”

  A deafening slap rang through the room. For a second, neither of them reacted to it—they continued to stare at each other, standing still. Finally, Mary stepped back, holding her hand as if it was a smoking gun, a look of horror streaked across her face.

  She had never hit anyone before. She couldn’t believe she’d do that to her husband.

  Peyton turned his face slightly toward the direction he was slapped, as if he wondered if it had actually happened, if Mary had actually been foolish enough to do it. He was looking at her like she just sprouted a second head.

  She had definitely done it, but the look on his face wasn’t making her feel any better about it. If she didn’t take the bull by the horns, she knew, Peyton would start throwing his weight around. After she crouched back a safe distance, she tried to not even act sorry about it. I will not let him spank me, she decided. I’m not sorry. I’m not remorseful. I’m not his underling—he cannot give me orders! I’m his wife, his partner, his equal.

  “You just opened up Pandora’s Box, honey,” he finally said with an even, flat tone. He didn’t even seem angry, but his eyes focused on her as if she was a deer he was lining up with his bow during a hunt.

  He stepped toward her, but when he did, she tried to run around him to head for the open door. She moved quickly enough that she almost made it before he caught her forearm and pulled her backward to his chest.

  Her breathing hitched as she remembered what Ellie had told her. He could have you for breakfast if he wanted to. Somehow, until now, he had never seemed quite as large and powerful as he did right now. She was going to have to fight him, and somehow win.

  * * *

  Peyton had lots of experience spanking women; Ellie certainly hadn’t been the first. Probably, through the nearly five years of service to Jazeel, he’d spanked nearly a hundred different women. Some of whom were far less accepting of punishment than others. Some of them truly struggled, some of them fought him, some of them cried.

  Be that as it may, none of them had fought as viciously as his wife did now. He was so much stronger than her, so much larger; she had to have realized this. But she was acting as if she didn’t. She was acting as though if she pushed away from him a little more, she could escape him and her punishment.

  He was able to pick her off the floor until her feet were kicking air, but then she started to kick at his shins with her heels, and he simply kept her hands behind her back and dragged her over to the bed and across his knees.

  Her head dropped down by his calf, which obviously suited her fine because it gave her something to bite. And she did—hard. He tried to grit his teeth and bear it, but the pain was shocking enough that he finally just pushed her off his lap, at which point she released her jaw, let him go, and scrambled out the door.

  Peyton swore and looked at his calf, which was now oozing blood from a perfect set of teeth marks. “Damn cannibal!” he grunted angrily, getting up and limping toward the door. As soon as he turned the corner, Thorton was there, looking quite confused.

  “Domestic troubles?” he asked, looking down at Peyton’s pant leg, which the blood from the wound was quickly beginning to stain.

  “Shut up,” growled Peyton. He looked back and forth down the hallway, but didn’t see Mary anywhere. “Did you see which way she went?”

  “Yeah,” Thorton replied. “But you’d better go to Fie with that. The boss ain’t gonna like it when he sees you’ve leaked all over his ship.” He grinned, waving his hand at the small blood trail. “She got you pretty good, buddy,” he noted, pointing to the wound.

  Peyton rolled his eyes and limped toward the medical bay.

  “Hey, do you want someone to lean on to get there? Or are you too stubborn?” Thorton offered in an awkward drawl.

  “Touch me and I’ll kill you,” Peyton replied in a growl.

  Thorton nodded. “Too stubborn. Got it.”

  * * *

  Thorton waited until Peyton had limped around the corner before he went to an intercom where he would be able to shal’ta a message to Jio, who was on the command deck with Braum. HEY, JIO… YOU LIKE TO GO HUNTING, RIGHT?

  It took a minute before Jio responded, and when he did, even his shal’ta sounded confused. YEAH…

  EVER HUNT A HUMAN WOMAN BEFORE?

  NO… WHY?

  WE GOT ONE ON THE RUN. I THOUGHT WE MIGHT HELP OUT OUR DEAR BEAST FRIEND, WHO GOT WOUNDED IN HER CAPTURE.

  There was another long response time. Probably because both Braum and Jio were too busy laughing. THE BEAST IS WOUNDABLE? There was another pause and then, OKAY, I’M UP FOR A CHALLENGE.

  GOOD MAN. LET’S GO HUNTING. Thorton grinned and rolled up his sleeves.

  * * *

  Mary hated the fact that she felt ashamed about things that were far beyond her control, such as being in this position. She was finally feeling attuned to how Ellie was feeling when Peyton had carried her down from the sublevel—she felt betrayed. She didn’t feel she had done anything to either Thorton or Jio when they hunted her down, tackled her, bound her hands and knees, and then tied her hands to her own headboard.

  She had certainly fought her darndest against them, but she found that two Swarii—both who viewed the whole episode as a game—could certainly get the better of her. Now, there was nothing to do but wait for Peyton to come through the door.

  She heard the bedroom door slide open and then Peyton walked through the door, sighing, but then his footsteps stopped. He was very quiet, obviously surprised to see his wayward wife tied to the top of his own bed.

  Peyton seemed to take a moment to think about her position, seeming on the precipice between amused and angry at whoever had tied her up, but then he stepped forward and hissed slightly, glancing at the bandage around his leg with rueful memory. “I never figured you’d be this difficult,” he admitted over her sniffling.

  “I don’t deserve this!” she cried.

  “I certainly wasn’t the one who slapped you across the face,” he replied simply, limping over to the t
op of the bed, where he tried to unravel the tie. “You have gotten away with a thousand times more snark than any other girl I’ve ever met in my life. Obviously, I don’t like the idea of spankin’ you, Mary. But I don’t like you thinkin’ I wouldn’t do it if I felt I had to—like when it comes to your safety.”

  As her wrists felt a little bit of slack, a little bit of her fear subsided. It didn’t appear like Peyton was going to use her unfortunate position to his advantage. It seemed like maybe he was coming to his senses. He did seem much calmer now.

  Her throat was dry, so she bravely swallowed. “Look, sweetheart… I’m sorry I slapped you. It was uncalled for, and I was wrong. I was just angry that you threatened me,” she explained, her voice smooth and rational.

  As soon as he untied her hands, he untied her knees, but he was quiet as he worked, and quick. Mary knew that he was gathering himself, and what he wanted to say. But she didn’t expect him to say what he did when she was free and his eyes snapped onto hers. “Now, are you going to take your spankin’ like a good girl this time?”

  No—she definitely wasn’t. She still hadn’t mentally prepared for a spanking at all. She was suddenly back to fighting against Peyton, only this time he wasn’t so surprised by her newfound strength.

  She suddenly realized that Peyton hadn’t been taking off her bindings to release her. He had merely taken them off to prove a point, which was that he could overpower her without any help.

  “I won’t let you hurt me!” she cried, just before Peyton pinned her down to the bed, raising her legs high in the air, her hands completely useless to get at him as he unbuckled the belt from around his pants. She didn’t quite realize how helpless she was until he shucked her pants and panties up and off her legs with one quick motion, and she could do nothing much to stop him.

  “Honey, hurtin’ you is the last thing I want to do,” he said between gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m spankin’ you—a spankin’ never gave anyone any bit of lastin’ hurt.” He was able to double up the belt in his hand as he said, “Now, you’ll really want to keep your hands out of the way, darlin’,” he warned, watching how she’d curled herself upward so she could sufficiently protect her bottom with her hands.