Training Tia

by Isabella Laase

  My gaze was drawn to a huge row of windows that framed the ocean as it crashed against a rocky cliff. The lack of a house or even a boat gave the appearance of total isolation and perfect natural beauty. It wasn’t Ohio or New York, but I was sure I’d seen those rocks in some childhood Sunday afternoon movie marathon.

  The bed was huge, and the mattress offered a snuggly softness. Elegant fabric rubbed against my skin, and I relaxed into the secure comfort.

  When the softness reached the nerves on my skin, I realized that there was nothing between me and the sheets. A twinge shuddered between my legs, and the increased vulnerability caused me to look for something to rectify the situation.

  It didn’t take long. The bedroom held an entire closet filled with dresses, shoes, skirts, and blouses, and all appeared to be my size. Massive drawers held neatly organized underwear, socks, T-shirts, and sweats. Even given my penchant for collecting clothes, it was an impressive assortment.

  Everything still had the tag, so I appropriated soft gray sweatpants, a pink T-shirt, and a pair of lacy red panties. As far as I was concerned, whoever had stolen my clothes owed me a pair of sweats.

  My bare feet followed the cherry-toned floor to a large living room with the same breathtaking ocean view. Like the bedroom, the room was elegantly decorated with an overstuffed sectional and comfortable recliners in the same muted gray tones.

  A large, flat screen TV dominated a wall, and built-in bookcases held all sorts of DVDs and hardcover novels. Like the clothing, the entertainment could have been hand-picked for me, with most of my favorites on prominent display.

  His scent reached me first, and a millisecond later, the stranger from the hotel appeared. As my body went through its erotic routine, I closed my eyes to the puddle that inevitably soaked my borrowed panties, and desperately fought the urge to move my hand between my legs.

  “You aren’t going to pass out again, are you?” he asked suspiciously.

  He towered over me by at least a foot, and he was drop dead gorgeous. Even the Adonis football player looked like a troll compared to this guy.

  Everything about him screamed control, and I found it difficult not to drop to all fours in submission. His black hair was trimmed close, and a chiseled chin sported a rustic, half-beard. An expensive dress shirt showed the perfect cut of his rock-hard chest and biceps, and when he turned to lead me to a small, elegant kitchen, tan slacks revealed an incredible ass.

  In an eerie move, he spoke with professional formality without looking back. “I do have a rather nice ass, don’t I?”

  The mortifying insight to my lust driven thoughts temporarily broke the rising attraction. “I, uh, I didn’t…mean…”

  He laughed. “It’s okay, little one. I have read your thoughts for a long time. You haven’t had a secret from me since you were very tiny.”

  Everything in the reasoning part of my brain moved to rule him a stranger. This place, and his powerful presence, should have sent me running in fearful self-preservation.

  But the action would have been a lie. I knew him. He was as familiar to me as Owen or Anna. I just didn’t know how.

  Anna’s words from the hotel filled some of my lost thoughts. “You’re Zane, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, pet. I am Zane.” He pulled me close to his side, and I had no desire to resist.

  With one hand on my neck, his other rubbed my cheek while his steel-blue gaze connected to mine. I think he saw my soul, and I stared back with a helpless quiver.

  His gentle fingers moved down my body and brushed my nipples ever so slightly. The power remained tattooed to my skin, and I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress a scream.

  The convulsive twitch between my legs demanded his immediate attention, and my brain placed no limitations on his entry. My legs grew tangled as I quickly tried to pull off my pants, and he watched me struggle with his eyebrow cocked.

  To my mortification, he laughed. “Really, you don’t even want dinner or an explanation?”

  He waved his hand briefly, and the sexual tension left my body only to be replaced with abject embarrassment.

  I shook my head in an attempt to regain control. Nothing made sense. I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin, not a seasoned veteran, and I was willing to get down on all fours and let a total stranger fuck me from behind.

  After he’d waved his hand, I still found him hot, but the emotions seemed a little more appropriate for a man who had no place in my active memory. He helped pull my pants back into place, and when his fingers brushed between my legs, I whimpered without screaming.

  “I could use a drink,” I said slowly.

  Zane raised his eyebrow a second time. “I suppose a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt you tonight. Come, sit at the table. Your servants have left us a feast.”

  For the first time since our introduction, I focused on something other than the dance between my legs. With elegant grace, Zane held the chair for me, then took a delicious-looking dinner from the oven. The spicy smells made my mouth water, and I withheld a smart-ass comment about unknown servants.

  Confusion remained my dominant thought, so wine was the real priority. I wasn’t an expert, but the contents of my delicate stemware clearly didn’t come from a box. The earthy, smooth taste lingered in my mouth for a second or two while my eyes closed in an attempt to relax my racing thoughts.

  The alcohol slowly warmed my muscles and worked on settling my nerves. Zane waited with quiet patience while I tasted my first bite of the chicken peanut stew. It was as good as it smelled, and I relaxed a little further, but the slight trembling remained just under the surface.

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” Zane said, breaking the silence. “You are Tia, daughter of Tandy and Keller Lang. They owed me a great debt, and I was promised their first-born daughter as a mate. You were given to me as an infant, but I allowed you to stay with your biological parents until you were old enough to join me. They were killed when you were young, so I hid you with Owen and Anna. Anna is my father’s sister.”

  In just a few sentences, this sort-of-stranger changed my world. My parent’s identity and the idea that I’d been in hiding were almost lost with the revelation that this man believed he owned me.

  He let his words sink in, and I took a second sip of wine. It might have been more like a gulp. Or two.

  “I’d planned to hide you,” Zane went on, “until I knew that you were strong enough to learn to care for yourself. You were getting very close. When you moved to Florida, I was going to convince you to be with me, but you got yourself caught by our enemies before I was ready.”

  The wine helped me find my voice. “Strong enough? I don’t know what you’re fucking around here, dude, but I don’t have any strength. I need Kim to open the pickle jars.”

  His glare could form a glacier. “I expect elegance from my mate, and I won’t tolerate that language. You will obey, or you will not sit comfortably. Do you understand?”

  The meaning behind his threat was pretty obvious, and the thought of his powerful hand connecting to my bottom inexplicably reignited the hormonal dance, and another wet spot formed on my panties.

  I brought my knees together to hide any obvious evidence. “I really don’t think we know each other that well.”

  His eyes locked onto mine with such intensity that I quivered. “You know me that well.”

  Despite the frustrating gaps in my memory, some level of understanding recognized the truth behind his words. I moved to the kitchen to grab the bottle of wine off the counter and refilled my glass. After a brief hesitation, both the glass and the rest of the bottle came back to the table with me.

  Zane allowed the move but added a slight scowl. “It will all come back to you. As soon as your powers are returned, you will begin to remember everything.”

  “My what?” I looked at the half empty bottle of wine and wondered what it had done to my hearing.

  The easy laugh provided much more comfort than the icy glare. “Your powers, p
et. How do you think you will become one of the strongest beings in our coven if you don’t have powers?”

  I had seen the movies. Covens meant witches. “You think I’m a fucking what?” The words escaped before I could stop my mouth.

  Zane sighed. Before I could blink, he caught my wrists to pull me across his lap, and I stared at his soft leather shoes. This wasn’t my first spanking, but he was still a stranger and the effect was complete adult mortification. I attempted a weak protest. “Hey, stop—”

  The dissent ended abruptly when he maneuvered me a little further to best meet his hand, and I grabbed his ankles to steady myself. My feet didn’t touch the ground and my vulnerable ass pointed to the ceiling. A quick attempt to pull away from his hold just moved his muscled legs over mine to keep me in place.

  My hand instinctively reached back to protect myself, and I accidently bumped a hardness that wasn’t his thigh. I heard him groan, but he trapped my wrists in one powerful grip and got down to the business of paddling my ass.

  The borrowed sweats provided a moment of protection before he slid them past my butt to find the delicate red panties. With little material between my tender skin and his hand, it only took two or three connections before I begged, “Please. I’m sorry. I’ll…ow…I’ll watch my language. I promise.”

  He made sure to cover my entire bottom with his message, and his second layer certainly made his point a little clearer. With no small effort, I successfully managed to avoid cussing my emotional response and stuck to the sincerest apologies I could make.

  The strategy seemed to work. With the full knowledge of how long these things could take, I was pleased when he let me up after a dozen or so stinging handprints.

  I rubbed my bottom carefully and tried to reconcile the idea of being spanked by a total stranger. As I processed the confused messages, the nerves of my inner thighs danced upward to tickle my tingling clit, and my brain had no idea what to do with the reaction.

  Taking another nervous gulp of wine, I sat down a little farther away from him. “So, you think I’m a witch.” The words felt as ridiculous as they sounded.

  “Witch is a human word,” he said. “We refer to ourselves as The Chosen. Our people don’t do spells or fly around on broomsticks, but we are very powerful creatures.”

  I couldn’t hide skepticism from a man who could read my thoughts. He continued with an indulgent smile. “Where do you think all this has come from? Not just the last day, but think about your whole life. How many memories are you missing? How many times did Owen or Anna know something you never told them? How many times did the cat make you pause, or Kim show up when you needed her the most? They were all employed to protect you. You had constant supervision.

  “When you were so insistent on leaving Owen’s protection after high school, I wanted to take you then. But Anna convinced my father that you needed more time before you embraced the responsibilities as my mate. He’s the leader of our coven and always did have a soft spot for his baby sister. That was when I added Kim to your list of protectors.”

  Strangely, it all made some twisted sense and not just the last few hours. My parents were never like my friends’ families. They were on top of everything.

  They knew where to find every article of clothing or toy I’d ever misplaced. If I couldn’t find my biology book, Anna could accurately direct me to my Spanish classroom. Secrets were impossible, and any misbehaviors were immediately caught. I never snuck out of anyplace without facing Owen’s displeasure.

  It wasn’t just my whereabouts. Anna and Owen were always a step ahead of the whole world. We never ran out of milk, struggled with a broken toilet, or even had a flat tire on our car. Our household ran with peaceful perfection, and I’d never questioned their easy life until I moved into my own place.

  When I asked for their secret, they’d laughed and assured me that my future held just as much promise. I thought it was an age crack.

  There was more. One night when I was about nine or ten, I woke for no apparent reason but needed adult comfort to return to sleep. Deep in a nostalgic conversation, my parents didn’t hear me come into the living room, and their sad voices described a life filled with unfamiliar people who meant a lot to them.

  I tearfully ran to Anna’s side. “Why don’t we visit them? Don’t they love me?”

  Even Owen couldn’t scold me. He gently carried me back to bed and rubbed my back until I fell asleep. Quiet reassurances promised that I would understand someday, but they never spoke about that night again.

  “They gave their lives to you,” Zane said. “They cared for you with everything in their power. Do you have any questions?”

  “Yeah, I have a few,” Despite the warning from my still tingling bottom, I spoke with more than a little sarcasm.

  An attempt to refill my wine glass a third time was met with a laser-like glare, so I slowly put the bottle down while keeping an eye on his twitching palm. Denied the wine, fat and sugar were clearly my next best friends, so I went for the cupcakes and grabbed two.

  The ocean view continued to pull on my thoughts, but its beauty brought me a strange comfort. “Where am I anyway?”

  He hesitated. “You’re in the nursery suite of my father’s castle.”

  The information did not make me happy. “Nursery? Did you say nursery?”

  “Call it anything you want if the word bothers you. But these rooms represent generations of my family’s power and are designed to keep our vulnerable heirs safe. No one can find these rooms unless my father or I give them access.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not staying in a nursery. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “You aren’t exactly in the position to negotiate,” he added with another frightening scowl. “In the morning, you will get your powers back after years without them. Your brain will have trouble processing the emotions, and you will behave with a child’s impulsivity all over again. You won’t make good choices about safety and security, so you will need constant supervision.

  “While you’re adjusting, you will live here. I have hired a staff and a bodyguard for your protection.”

  My hard-fought battles for independence clearly hung in the balance, and I risked a small stamp of my foot that probably didn’t help my point. “No freaking way. I’m an adult. I already did the whole teenage thing once.”

  Anyone who told children they were in the best years of their lives should be horsewhipped. Adult independence was always preferable to hormonal rampages and epic tantrums.

  His gentle voice had a frustrating impact on my reasoning. Or my lack of reasoning. I really hadn’t decided yet. “My father is over three hundred years old. You have a long way to go before you have the attention and the manners to join our adult world. Stay in the nursery until I determine that you are ready. I promise everything will be fine.”

  In the face of crazy, I could only come up with one question. “If your father is over three hundred years old, how old are you?” I asked suspiciously.

  He smirked. “Let’s just say I was a late life baby.”

  “No, I mean it. Am I married to a senior citizen or something?”

  “We are mated. We weren’t married. It is a much deeper ceremony and involves the physical blending of our subconscious. This isn’t the simple exchange of rings and verbal promises.”

  “Shouldn’t I remember this magical ceremony? I mean, it sounds pretty important.”

  “Magic is another human word. We used the powers of our people to become one. And no, you were only a few months old. You wouldn’t remember, but you know that it’s true. You feel it even without your power. Don’t fight it.”

  I didn’t want him to be right, but there was a clear, indescribable tie between us. His scent, his presence, and his whole body were frustratingly familiar but spookily strange all at the same time.

  Despite our weird connection, I wasn’t ready to acquiesce. “Why did my parents give me up? What did they owe you?”

  He dismissed
the question with a wave of his hand. “It was political and not important now. Arranged relationships like this are not uncommon in our world. Besides, they never gave you up. You stayed with them until they died. We won’t discuss this further.”

  I was pissed by the lack of information. With the sting that still emanated from my ass, however, I kept my thoughts to myself.

  It was obvious that I still questioned him in my head, and his glare turned icy. Under some belief that my thoughts were safe from his correction, I continued, I can’t stop my thoughts, Ace. You might just have to get used to that.

  Zane raised his eyebrow. “Be careful, pet. I only have so much patience for brats.”

  The carefully enunciated words and his twitching palm knocked some of the sass out of me, and I changed the subject. “Where are Owen and Anna? And what about Kim?”

  When stressed, the unwritten rule for the twenty-something set was to take your emotions out on family and friends. I would have risked Owen’s ire with a few choice vocabulary words directed at the whole conspiracy that apparently was my life.

  Kim, in particular, deserved my anger. For four years, she’d pretended to be my best friend, and the reality that she was a paid babysitter was plain hurtful. Tears spilled over my cheeks, and I brushed them away quickly.

  Zane didn’t miss a thing, and he gently pulled me close to his chest. I breathed in his familiar scent and snuffled away my sobs at the same time.

  “They wanted to say goodbye,” he said, “but I thought it best if they left you alone for a little while. We know that you have a lot of complicated feelings right now, and there’s no reason to make it harder.

  “Take a few months to get used to your new life, and I will bring them back to you. Simon will remain your bodyguard. I’ll bring him before I leave.”

  The beautiful room suddenly felt like a jail, and I risked a small pout. “What if I don’t want to stay? What if I want to go home?”