by Ivy Barrett
“I wish there were something the rest of us could do to help him through this, but he won’t let any of us in.”
“If Azra is hiding from the pain, the rest of you might need to push him in the right direction, whether he wants your help or not.”
The suggestion stayed with Erin long after Kyla left. Azra was definitely avoiding his emotions and that couldn’t be healthy. He hadn’t shed a tear, or expressed his grief and anger in any other way. He was calm and laser-focused on the Tavorian refugees. She wasn’t sure how to approach him, what to use as a catalyst. But Urrya and Oseth ended up returning to the house before Azra that night, so she hoped they could offer some suggestions.
She greeted each with a warm smile and a lingering kiss, then they walked into the kitchen.
“Did you enjoy your visit with Kyla?” Urrya asked as he printed three glasses of viskara.
“I always enjoy seeing her. How is LeAuntiez?” Erin took one of the glasses from Urrya and sipped the potent wine. The flavor was slightly sweet, yet rich and vibrant. Viskara was one of her favorite Ventori treats.
Urrya handed a glass to Oseth and kept the last for himself. “LeAuntiez was in conference with Governor Orellian and Azra all day. I saw very little of him.”
“Do you know what the meeting was about?” Like everything else, Azra had shared very little in regard to the conflict here at Camp Accord. She knew the Tavorians weren’t getting along with the Ventori, or anyone else for that matter, but Azra hadn’t explained possible solutions.
“I heard they’re pushing for a Tavorian colony,” Oseth told her. “Something similar to Camp Accord, but reserved for the refugees and only the refugees.”
“Tavorians are so damn xenophobic, it’s probably the only solution that will work,” Urrya added, disapproval making his tone sharp.
They lapsed into companionable silence for a moment, each lost in thought.
“I’m worried about Azra,” Erin said a short time later. If they were going to deal with this, they needed to have a plan before Azra showed up. “I don’t know much about Tavorians, but I don’t think his refusal to express his grief is healthy. He needs some sort of outlet for his emotions or they will fester and become toxic. There’s no way anyone will convince me that he’s not in pain.”
“You’ll never get him to cry, if that’s what you’re hoping,” Oseth told her. “Tavorians aren’t wired that way.”
“It’s true.” Urrya nodded, then said, “But she’s right too. If he keeps this shit bottled up, it will consume him.”
“So how do we get him to... emote?” Oseth asked. “And how do we protect ourselves from the resulting explosion?”
“He won’t hurt me,” Erin told them. “He’s too protective. So I’ll provoke him, get him to lash out, but I’ll make sure he only lashes out at me.”
Oseth and Urrya looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable with her suggestion.
“I don’t like it,” Urrya muttered.
“Neither do I,” Oseth said, “but we’ll be there. If he starts to cross the line, we’ll intervene.”
Urrya silently sipped his wine for a few moments, expression tense and thoughtful. “He’ll know what we’re doing. He’s too smart to be fooled for long.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Erin predicted. “Once the emotional ball starts rolling down the hill, he won’t be able to stop it. I just need to give it a nice hard push.”
“I still don’t like it,” Urrya grumbled. “But we have to do something.”
Oseth agreed and silence fell again, tense and uncomfortable this time.
Hoping to lighten the mood, Erin asked Urrya, “What about your big decision? Are you going to accept the position?”
Urrya smiled and iridescent lines streaked across his dark eyes. “I just came from a holo-conference with Chancellor Savator. You’re looking at the Brokvata’s new commander.”
She flew into his arms and gave him a firm hug. “Congratulations, Commander Urrya!”
He leaned down and kissed her, keeping her in his embrace as he looked at Oseth. “You realize this makes me your boss, right?”
Oseth laughed. “Only at work. Erin’s my boss at home.”
Urrya looked down at her and smiled. “It’s hard to argue with that.”
“I disagree.” The deep, emphatic statement drew everyone’s attention to the archway separating the kitchen from the family room. Azra stood there, looking stern and disapproving. “I bow and scrape and compromise all fucking day. The last thing I will accept in my home is my female attempting to exert authority over me. Have both of you been neutered in my absence?”
Erin hurried over to him, determined to defuse the situation. “They were joking, my love. All they meant was their desire to make me happy gives me a certain amount of influence over what they do. I understand your expectations of me.”
“Do you?” His gaze was endlessly black and filled with challenge. “Then why are you still dressed?”
Chapter Ten
Even knowing he was scaring his mate, Azra couldn’t contain the frustration that had been building inside him since his arrival on Earth. Desperate for leadership, the refugees had accepted him as their spokesperson for the first few days. But the scornful looks and whispered insults grew more prevalent with each passing day. He was estenrata, tainted, unworthy of respect. The refugees had no problem complaining to him about every aspect of their situation, but few followed his advice or agreed with his conclusions. And most annoying of all were the endless demands to speak with Zilrath before the refugees agreed to anything.
Azra felt responsible for the destruction of Tavor. If he hadn’t been banished, his podmates wouldn’t have been traveling between dimensions on a daily basis. No one came right out and said it, but he knew the unusual bursts of energy were what drew the Skarilians’ attention. How they’d gotten their fleet to Tavor so quickly was still a mystery, one the Protectorate desperately needed to solve. Still, placing blame was a useless endeavor, so he tolerated the abuse at work.
But he’d be damned if he accepted disrespect from his mate.
She isn’t your mate until you claim her, his inner voice reminded. And it was past time to deal with that detail as well.
Erin’s hands shook as she untied the belt holding her dress in place. She kicked off her shoes and unwrapped the overlapping halves of the garment, allowing it to slip down her arms. Her gaze remained fixed on him and she nervously licked her lips. “I love you, Azra, but I need you to be honest. You’re not mad at me. You’re mad at the refugees, and the Skarilians.”
Her sharp tone felt like a slap. She chose tonight to challenge his authority?
With two long strides, he closed the distance between them and fisted the back of her hair. “I’m not angry, neralla. I’m frustrated, tired, and annoyed. Now get on your knees and open your mouth.”
“No.”
There was a strange pleading in her gaze that gave him pause. He didn’t smell fear, but her emotions were so convoluted he couldn’t untangle them. “You refuse me comfort?”
“Just until you calm down.”
He released her hair and shoved her away. “I am calm. And you are being disrespectful. You agreed to obey me when you accepted our claim.”
“I’ll do anything you want as soon as you admit why you’re in such a bad mood.”
He gritted his teeth, frustration vibrating through his body. His balls ached and his nerves were frayed. The last thing in the universe he wanted to do was talk. He needed to lose himself in mutual pleasure for an hour or two and then fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. “I gave you an order. Obey me or there will be consequences.”
She glanced at Urrya, then Oseth before shifting her gaze back to him. Her chin came up and she squared her shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to punish me, because I’m not having sex with you until you’re honest with all of us. That includes you.”
He hadn’t been angry until she started arguing with him. She was
right about his shitty mood, but he was discouraged and depressed, not angry. “Your behavior has been faultless lately, so I will offer you one last choice. Choose wisely. Bend over the table and accept your discipline, or go upstairs and kneel at the foot of our bed so we can pleasure each other.”
She closed her eyes and her lips trembled. He thought he’d gotten through to her, but her eyes opened and she walked to the kitchen table and bent over. Her upper body pressed against the smooth wood, arms spread to each side of her body. Without having to be told, she moved her legs apart until her pussy lips were visible and her ass was positioned perfectly for a nice hard spanking.
His podmates looked angry, but neither said a word. She’d refused an order and argued, when he desperately needed comfort. Either of them would punish her too.
Walking slowly toward the table, he admired her beauty, imagining all the things he could do to her slender body. His dark nature, which had been particularly close to the surface already, firmly took control. He covered her body with his, pressing against her back so he could whisper in her ear. “Maybe I’ll fuck that tight little ass instead, ride you fast and hard until you’re dripping with cum. You withheld your mouth. It seems only fair that I enjoy another one of your hot little holes.”
She tensed as he rocked against her, pushing his hard cock against her vulnerable bottom. “Whatever floats your boat.”
Was she mocking him? He straightened as anger surged through his soul. He was so fucking tired of sneering faces and scornful comments. His open hand smacked her ass hard, falling again and again before he realized what he was doing. She squirmed and clenched her cheeks, but barely made a sound.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing down his anger. This was not about the refugees, not about all he’d lost, or how powerless he’d been to prevent any of it. Emotion nearly closed his throat, making it hard to breathe. Each time he so much as acknowledged his feelings they threatened to overwhelm him. So he shoved them deeper and insulated himself with blessed numbness. If he couldn’t control what he felt, it was best to feel nothing at all.
“Why’d you stop?” She looked back at him, eyes gleaming. “Surely you can do better than that.” Then she wiggled her butt back and forth, an obvious invitation.
More than happy to oblige her, he resumed the spanking. Her round cheeks quivered beneath his punishing hand and her skin turned a lovely shade of pink. His palm stung as it connected with her ass over and over, but he welcomed the discomfort. Each sharp slap dragged a gasp from her mouth. He found the sound soothing. She was his. His to hurt. His to fuck. His forever.
“Why am I spanking you?” he asked after an especially hard swat.
“Because you’re pissed at the refugees.” Defiance threaded through each word.
Stubborn little fool. He delivered another flurry of spanks, carefully tempering his strength.
“Try again,” he ordered.
“Because you’re pissed at the Skarilians.”
He spanked each side several more times, his hand beginning to ache. Her ass was bright pink now and she clenched with each firm swat. “Why are you being punished?”
She said nothing, a silent rebellion.
He brought his hand up between her thighs, spanking her pussy.
She cried out, then moaned, a familiar transition. No matter how hard she fought the pain, discipline always aroused her.
“Shall I take off my belt or find something to use as a paddle? You don’t seem impressed by the spanking.”
She pushed up then turned around, meeting his gaze with tear-bright eyes. “Whatever you need, Master, but admit that this isn’t about me. You’re in pain. Let me help you. Let us help you.”
His dark nature surged, demanding and ravenous, ready to gorge on her suffering. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Turning all the way around, she met his gaze, expression open, welcoming. “I do. I offer my body and my energy. I want you to use me, be as cruel as you like for as long as you need. I only ask one thing in return. Let us in. Admit you’re in pain and let us help heal you. You can’t go on like this.”
He shook his head, aching for what she offered, yet doubtful that he could control the monster once it was unleashed.
Suddenly Urrya and Oseth stood at her sides, their expressions as compassionate as hers.
“We’ll protect her,” Urrya assured. “Though I don’t think it’s necessary. You love her too much to harm her. We all do.”
Azra had never spoken the word, even in his mind, but it was undeniably true. She belonged to them body and soul, or she would before this night was through. And even more surprising was the realization that they belonged to her. All four of them were inexorably linked. There was strength in that connection. All he had to do was access it.
“You need this, Az,” Oseth told him. “Denial is a waste of time. Let it out. Lance the abscess so your soul can heal.”
Rather than responding with words, Azra picked Erin up and headed for the stairs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, staring up at him trustingly. She knew he wouldn’t harm her, but he’d never wanted to hurt her more. He wanted her cries and gasps, pleading, even her tears. Only her suffering would soothe his ravaged soul. Only her vibrant energy and soft, warm body would make him feel anything close to whole.
Urrya and Oseth followed, yet neither spoke. Good. Azra would not debate each decision or justify his needs. Erin clearly understood. He reached the master bedroom and stepped inside. An oversized bed nearly spanned the floor, the sturdy frame designed to support the weight of three to five large bodies. He set Erin on the floor at the foot of the bed. She started to kneel, but he caught her under the arms and shook his head.
“That offer is no longer on the table.” Her eyes widened as anticipation sped his pulse. Her discipline had just begun. “You chose punishment, sweet slave. You literally asked for this.”
Her worried gaze shot to Urrya and then Oseth, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she lowered her gaze and moved her feet farther apart, opening her body to his view.
Wrist restraints were bolted to the ceiling and could be adjusted to unlimited heights with a cable and pulley system. He lowered the wide, synth-fur-lined cuffs to either side of her head, then guided her wrists into the restraints. They closed with a magnetic latch that was easy to release, yet incredibly strong. Slowly, he raised the cuffs until her hands were about six inches above her head.
She watched him closely, uncertainty obvious, yet she didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to change his mind. She stood there naked and open, ready for whatever he chose to do.
“You do not have permission to come, until I tell you otherwise.”
Her expressive gaze registered disappointment, but she only said, “Yes, Master.”
“Oseth, why don’t you kiss her, calm her a bit, while Urrya and I prepare.”
With obvious enthusiasm, Oseth moved in front of her and took her face between his hands. “It’s going to be okay, baby.” Before she could reply, he covered her mouth with his.
Azra and Urrya went into the walk-in closet. A built-in dresser contained T-shirts, tunics, and a wide selection of disciplinary implements. Not wanting to discuss the strategy in front of Erin, Azra told Urrya what he had in mind, and they quickly collected what they would need for each phase of her punishment.
Oseth had his hand buried between her thighs when Azra and Urrya returned to the bedroom. He stroked her gently, building her arousal while they kissed.
“She doesn’t have permission to come,” Azra reminded. “If you make her orgasm, I’ll add to her punishment.”
Oseth raised both hands, palms out as he stepped back from her. “She’s so damn soft. It’s hard to resist touching her.”
“You can touch her all you like, anywhere you like. Just don’t let her come.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Oseth moved even farther away. “Where’s the fun in that? I want to watch her lose control and
feel her pussy tighten around my fingers, or better yet my cock.”
“We’ll get there,” Azra assured him. “Eventually,” he added with a wicked smile. He moved back in front of Erin. She kept her gaze lowered, which was unlike her. He seldom required that she not look at him, so her gaze tended to be boldly assessing. This was a form of rebellion, just like her silence. “Look at me.”
Slowly, she met his gaze, but her expression was unreadable.
“If you want to share my pain, then I insist on sharing yours.”
She licked her lips, throat working as she struggled to swallow. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m going to expand our telepathic link, so your emotions and reactions are available to me. The mating bond will allow us even greater access, but we can’t form that until we claim you.”
“So claim me.”
Fear sparked in her gaze and sharpened her scent, but Azra wasn’t sure if she was afraid of being claimed or of the alternative. She had set them on this path. Would she renege now, slam the door in his face moments before he stepped through? The other two moved closer, drawn by the change in her scent. But Azra said, “Not yet.” They backed off and Azra placed his hands on Erin’s supple hips. “You promised me suffering, and I intend to savor every lash.”
She closed her eyes, trembling visibly. Now he sensed anticipation, not fear. Despite her momentary uncertainty, she wanted this, needed it as much as he did.
Azra took her face between his hands and kissed her deeply. She opened for the first brush of his tongue and tilted her head, offering her mouth more completely. Her surrender pleased him, yet his dark nature was in control, so basic submission would never be enough. He needed to control her, possess her, master her completely—as was his right by Tavorian law. He poured energy into their mind link, dilating the connection until thoughts and emotions flowed freely. For just a moment, he let her feel his pain, the bleak loneliness and desolation. Then he shielded his mind while hers remained open, unable to hide anything from him.