by Emma Alisyn
“What the hell did you forge?”
“Your acceptance of my marriage offer, transferring yourself into my legal custodianship until you are issued the full rights of a citizen on Yedahn.”
“Marriage doesn’t automatically—”
“No. You still have to prove your usefulness to the planet as more than my bed warmer.”
“I’m not warming your bed, so that would be a hard sell.”
He smiled. “That’s just a matter of time, Abigail.”
She suppressed a shudder. The man knew how to use his voice for something besides snide insults. “What else?”
He sobered. “My family… there are consequences for becoming one of us. My parents—my mother especially—insisted I discuss them with you. It isn’t a decision that should be made without all the information.”
“That sounds intelligent.”
Their first course arrived. Ithann informed her Yadeshi didn’t bother with broth unless one was an invalid, so the plate placed in front of her was more fish, but of a different variety and with a spicy grain cake underneath. The whole thing swimming in a buttery yellow sauce.
“Our family is currently out of favor with the Platon.”
“The Platon?”
“Rykesha has seven ruling Princes. My father is one. To sit in judgment over us all is the Platon, a male or female elected for his wisdom and evenhandedness. They train their entire lives in history, politics, languages—they are judge, jury and executioner over us.”
“What does it mean that your family is out of favor?”
“Unfortunately, the current Platon has a small private army, and his generals make our lives interesting. My mother can no longer travel alone, but with an armed escort in case of misunderstandings on the part of his followers.”
Gayle closed her eyes. “And what did your family do?”
“We may have tried to have him assassinated.”
“Oh, Ithann. Is that all?”
He took a bite of his fish, chased it with more wine. “He has been undercutting our trading interests for three decades. One of his schemes caused the loss of an entire ship and crew. Lives under our protection.” His expression darkened.
“How long ago was that?”
“Forty years or so ago.” He shrugged. “My parents have been distracted raising their children to adulthood so they were somewhat lax in crushing him. I suppose now that I am wed and to mate—hopefully—they will turn their attention back to business concerns.”
“And how will this little feud impact me?”
“Ah. Well, you’ll continue your warrior training. I’ll oversee it myself as I don’t trust anyone to handle you.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“They’ll be afraid to be too hard on you, at least at first.”
Gayle scowled at him. “Whereas you can beat my ass with impunity.”
“I’d make you like it, Gayle. But you will be an opportunity to the Platon. He’ll test your strength and hope I am foolish enough not to guard you properly.”
She polished off her fish, surprised by her appetite. Their server appeared shortly thereafter, the interval between Gayle setting down her fork and the next dish appearing perfect. Not too long for the wait to cause impatience, but not too short to imply they were being closely watched—which they were, but it was the hallmark of a fine establishment to maintain a polite fiction its patrons maintained privacy.
“This is what you needed to tell me? That we’re illegally married and your family is in the middle of a war?”
He looked irritated. “Being mine will put you in danger. It will also necessitate you hold—or appear to hold—certain views in public. You won’t be as free to talk shit.”
“Says the man who never met a student he couldn’t insult.”
“Well?”
“Do I have any choice here? If I don’t go along with this, then I get shipped back to Earth where I land in jail. Or I spend time in a Yadeshi jail.”
“I am a much better option.”
She rolled her eyes. “We were heading in the direction of hooking up anyway. I just thought I’d get to play with you a few years before I made you settle down.”
He stiffened. “No female plays with me.”
“Of course, not. I want dessert.”
She accepted a call from her parents after they returned to Ithann’s suite. He left her alone in the bedroom with an inscrutable look. Not that she was fooled—he probably had microphones set up somewhere.
“Father. Mother. I hear you tried to have me declared mentally insane and dragged back to Earth.”
“What you’re doing isn’t rational, Abigail,” Miranda said. “You need to come home.”
Gayle sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I’ve been mooching all these years so I gave you the wrong impression. But it’s time for me to start being an adult, Mother. Not the spoiled rich daughter of a—”
“Abigail, if you don’t return—”
She cut her father off. “What are you going to do? My best friend is on the ship with me. I don’t need your money.” She smiled. “Ithann and I are married and he is more than rich enough to support me. There isn’t really anything you can threaten me with.”
“I can make it so you are never allowed to step foot on Earth again.”
She studied his cold face. “If that’s what you want. I’m not sure why you’re so angry—unless you already had marriage contracts signed for me. You did, didn’t you?”
He said nothing. Gayle shook her head. “You should have known better, Dad. I’m sorry you tripped over your own high handedness.”
“Gayle,” her mother said, voice soft, “do you really want to live on an alien planet for the rest of your life?”
“I’ll send you pictures of the kids.”
Her mother inhaled abruptly. “I see you’re set on this.”
“On living my own life? Yes. I think I am. I’ll be in touch once I settle in, if you want to hear from me.”
11
After she ended the call and entered the bedroom to lie down, Gayle discovered her belongings had already been transferred.
“I wonder why I’m so blasé about all of this,” she said, rifling through the closet that now held her ‘old’ clothing plus several more dresses and skin suits in fabrics she recognized from the tailoring session.
“You’re not stupid,” Ithann said. “And only a stupid female would be hysterical.”
She turned. “Oh, really? I’m perfect for you, you know. For some reason, your incredibly abrasive attitude doesn’t bother me.”
He folded his arms, haughty. “My mother is the diplomat. I am the youngest son, I speak my mind.”
“Hmm. You mention your mother a lot.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her arms. “Are you a mama’s boy?”
His arms unfolded as he stepped forward and leaned down, face in hers. “Strip, female, and get on your knees—then we’ll see if I am a mama’s boy.”
She laughed in his face. “There’s an order to things, Ithy baby. First, I read the paperwork you forged my name on. Then, if nothing pisses me off, we can talk about you going down on me.”
“You speak as if that’s a punishment,” he purred. “I want to taste you. I want to hear you scream my name.”
She inhaled, licking her lips, and averted her face. Veggies first, dessert later. “Papers, Ithann.”
He brought her a tablet, a thin piece of glasslike material that when accessed lit up, a display darkening so she could no longer see through it to her hand beneath. Gayle spent several minutes skimming through the documents, highlighting certain clauses, cross-referencing, and re-reading. All told, it was a good two hours before she had a firm grasp of her situation.
Ithann looked up when she entered the living room. He lounged on the couch, a large screen holo-console in front of him, several windows open that darkened at his verbal command. He studied her stony expression, eyes impassive.
Gayle stared at him. “You said we were married.”
“We are married.”
“What I read is… is…” words failed her.
“A form of marriage.”
How could he sound so reasonable? Gayle scowled. “I’m a sex slave.”
Ithann returned her scowl. “An honored concubine until you produce a child, and then you are automatically—”
“You own me. If I don’t satisfy you sexually, the contract is null and void and I get to go to… to…”
“A training camp for pleasure providers.” He examined his fingernails. “I don’t think that will happen. I’m almost certain you’re a natural.”
She threw the tablet at his head. He ducked, surging to his feet and charging her. Gayle shifted immediately into a defensive stance, teeth bared, and met his attack.
Bring it on.
The fight was quick and dirty. He pinned her to the floor, glaring, the cloth of her dress ripped halfway up her thigh.
“If you ever throw anything at me again,” he snarled, “I’ll put you over my lap and spank you until your ass is red.”
She squirmed beneath him. “But I’d like that, so it wouldn’t be punishment.”
His voice lowered, menacing. “When I spank you, Gayle, you won’t like it.” But as he spoke, his hand slid down her body, pulling away the dress where it had torn, and cupped her mound. She hissed, pressing into his hand, opening her legs to cradle him.
“Are we done with the foreplay?” she asked.
“I thought you were angry. I thought you decided you were a sex slave.” His eyes mocked her as his fingers delved in her curls, teasing her clit.
“There’s no point in anger—I’m practical.” Gayle’s hips pushed up, her teeth biting into her own lip when a strong finger slipped inside her. “Either I please you, or I get to be a professional whore.”
His head lowered, incisors lengthening, his lips nipping at where she’d bitten down. “It’s an honorable occupation.”
Her heart sped up, body tensing from anticipation. “And,” he continued, “it would give me a hobby.”
“Hobby?” she gasped as his fingers ground inside her.
“All those males I’d get to kill. It would be almost an obligation—for the honor of Doshen House.”
Gayle moaned. He knew how to use his mouth, his hands, his teeth, his tongue. He knew how to strum her body as if he were a master musician and she the instrument. He made her sing.
“Maybe—I should—go to the pleasure house, then.”
His response was to rise to his knees, take the cloth of her dress between his hands, and rip it in a long seam down her body. Gayle froze, eyes snared. He stared her down, as if to tell her that when he began killing, he wouldn’t just stop with the males.
“I think, Abigail, that you should do you very best to please me,” he said in a conversational tone, confirming her suspicion. “I think I could kill you if you ever touched another man. I might regret it afterwards.”
Was she sick that his words turned her on? Rocketed her desire to the nth degree? Was there anything sexier than a strong man who would kill to keep her?
“You could hurt me?” she asked.
“I’ll never hurt you. Unless you beg me to. And, Gayle—” Ithann covered her now naked body. He’d discarded his own shirt as well and his hair fell over his shoulders into her face. “—I would die for you, too. Life and death—this is the consequence of bonding a warrior.” His mouth curved. “I’ll make it worth the risk.”
She lost track of time while he played with her body, reducing her to near tears and pleas to finish her off. His cock was hard and swollen, grinding into her stomach. His face cruel when he looked at her. At one point, her nails scored tracks along his back and she swore at him.
Ithann grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the carpet. “No, Gayle—I get to control the pace. I owe you for weeks of waiting.” He paused, thoughtful. “Do you have a safe word?”
“What?”
“A safe word,” he repeated, patient. “I have all these images running through my mind of what I want to do with you—you probably need a safe word.”
“Oh, God.” She swallowed, tried to think. “Um… tofu.”
“Tofu.”
“Tofu.”
“Very well.”
He rose, pulling her into his arms, and entered the bedroom, tossing her on the bed. “Don’t move.” He walked to a wall panel and pressed. A drawer slot slid open and he examined the contents.
Gayle closed her legs, splayed open from when he’d tossed her. He turned, eyes pinning her.
“I told you not to move. Infraction number one.”
He approached the bed, two delicate chains dangling from his hands, a drape of black cloth over his wrists. She’d never noticed how elegant his wrists were. Strong, well-shaped, smooth from hair.
Ithann snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Don’t go into a daze now,” he said. “I’ve barely even touched you.”
Was he insane? Nearly an hour of torture on the living room floor, sending her out of her mind, her clit and pussy clenching with need? And he’d barely even touched her.
Ithann climbed on the bed and bent over her, blowing on the stiff peaks of her nipples. Then he took one of the chains, a tiny clamp attached to the end, and placed it over one dark nub. Held her eyes as he increased the pressure of the clamp. Her chest jerked and she gritted her teeth. She was so sensitive, every nerve ending in her skin raw.
“These are weighted,” he said. “I’m going to fuck you from behind, so while my cock is inside you, these chains will hang from your tits and make you mad.” He paused. “They vibrate.”
Ithann clamped the other bit of torture jewelry on the opposite nipple, then pulled her into a sitting position. “Get on your knees and turn around.”
She obeyed. Ithann slapped her ass, a sharp sting. “Too slow. Move faster when I give you an order. Put your hands on the wall, here.”
Gayle obeyed speedily. When her palms rested flat on the wall where he’d indicated, he wrapped the bits of black cloth around her wrist, touching the ends to the wall. The ends were… sucked into a slot, tightening until she was restrained. He caressed a hand down her back and buttocks, then slipped between her thighs and pinched her clit.
“Remember the word if you can’t handle me,” he said.
Fighting words, and he knew it, the bastard. The clamps vibrated, the sensation throwing her back into the sensual agony that had begun to cool.
“I could clamp your clit?”
She shook her head vigorously. He sighed. “Next time.”
His hands spanned her waist, then swept up to cup the undersides of her breasts. His chest was hot, hard against her back, skin silken smooth, muscles flexing. His cock wedged in the valley of her ass as if it had found itself a home and he ground his pelvis against her, gasping in her ear. He shifted, and the head of him nudged her entrance, pressed inside just a centimeter. Enough for her to bite her lip. Even that preliminary bit of him stretched her entrance. As slick as she was, she wasn’t certain he would fit without pain or tearing. She was certain her hymen wasn’t intact anymore. Pretty certain.
“No more waiting,” he said. “How do you want this? Slow or—”
“Just do it,” she ground out.
He plunged in, breaching her entrance to the hilt. Gayle arched her back and screamed. Pain was minimal, despite her virginal status. But the shock of entry for the first time. She slumped, the ribbons around her wrists tightening.
Ithann cursed behind her, a string of foul words in his native tongue. “You didn’t tell me you were a virgin.”
“You didn’t fucking ask if I was a virgin, you blue alien savage. That hurt.”
His hand tangled in her hair. “What were your words?” His voice went up several octaves. “‘I might like that, Ithy baby, so it wouldn’t be a punishment.’” Ithann snorted, tone dropping back to a deep growl. “Maybe you shouldn’t
talk shit, baby.”
She turned her head to glare at him, ass grinding back against him. He was lodged inside her, driving her crazy. She needed him to move.
He just raised a brow, his lengthened incisors peeking out from his lips. “And this changes nothing. I’m still going to fuck you raw.”
“All talk and no game, Ithy baby.”
He growled, slid out of her, and plunged in again, squeezing her breasts. “See, that’s what I meant about you talking shit.”
Gayle’s chest hugged the wall, the clamps pressed into her skin. How would one feel on her clit? The delicious torment, the vibration while he fucked her.
“Fuck,” he swore, stokes long and hard. “This pussy is so tight. Take all of me, baby.”
What choice was there? He worked his monster-sized cock inside her, her body stretching to accommodate him, juices slicking his passage. Her back arched, ass pushing back against him, an involuntary grind, thighs parting even further. He talked dirty, a string of obscenities with every staccato thrust into her body. Gayle could only gasp, moan from the sharp pain and accompanying pleasure.
“Ithann, slower, you’re so big. Slower.”
“Am I hurting you?” His voice deep, dark in her ear. The devil at play, a sensual torment promising her hours of pleasure, but only if she accepted the pain. “Scream if I’m hurting you, enja Bdakhun. Daddy’s spoiled little princess, but you’re mine now. To do with as I please, whenever I please. Scream.”
Another thrust. She screamed. “Yes! Yes, you’re hurting me.” It hurt so good, she’d never felt so alive. She wanted more, but didn’t know if she could take more. Not yet. Had she thought herself strong? Maybe she was, outside of this bedroom. But in here, she was a toy for her warrior. He handled her with ease, mastered her body, her mind. Her heart.
“Then hurting is good, Abigail.”
He pulled the ribbons out of the wall, releasing her wrists, and flipped her onto her back, throwing her legs over his shudders and ramming home. Gayle’s fingers clawed into the sheet, head shaking back and forth, teeth almost biting through her lip.
