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A Most Unsuitable Mate

Page 7

by Carolyn Faulkner


  His expert hands had their way with her, bringing her to the edge of her peak repeatedly while he catalogued in the back of his mind exactly how she most liked to be touched, what flicking or stroking or rubbing methods brought forth the loudest cries, honing skills he would only ever use on her to drive her to absolute bliss .

  But not until he was inside her. At this point, he felt it was of great import that, when she climaxed, at least in this first tremulous beginning, that his body was joined with hers, so that she learn that this was where pleasure culminated—when he owned her most completely .

  That was easy enough to accomplish, though, since he was perpetually capable around her, and he did it with one, smooth, powerful stroke that made her catch her breath loudly, groaning and struggling throughout—not to get away from him—she wasn't testing her bonds, he knew instinctively. She was just trying to accustom herself to being taken. Occupied. Possessed. Owned. By a man. By a slave , one who had convinced her to eschew her position in the world, one who had turned the tables on her completely, who had forced her to confront the fact that, in doing so, she had found the deepest, most profound source of pleasure she had ever known .

  Chapter 6

  C ika's reverie was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. She rose and planted herself in the middle of the floor, bracing herself, before she said, her voice almost trembling, "Yes ?"

  The guards entered, bowing low, and then Vallon entered. He did the same while they left, remaining just inside the door, looking at her silently, intently .

  Twisting her fingers in front of her, she couldn't help crying, "Say something, please, sir!" He didn't look angry or furious, as she had expected. It was much worse than that .

  He was disappointed in her .

  She took a few tentative steps towards him, her hands out to him as he stood there, almost at attention, with his hands clasped behind him, staring at her. "I'm sorry! I knew it was wrong as soon as I saw her do it, but by then it was done—I could hardly go around with half of my hair cut off!" As if confessing would help her cause, she continued to run off at the mouth, "I did it because I saw my sister on the way in to work today. She was so condescending. She spoke to me as if I was some oddity because I hadn't cut my hair yet. It was inconceivable to her that I wouldn't, don't you see? I could ignore the looks I was getting from everyone else, but her? I had to—I had to !"

  She collapsed in on herself, hugging herself and weeping as if she hadn't a friend in the world .

  Vallon stepped forward then, wrapping his arms securely around her, bringing her head to his shoulder, patting her back and rocking them both back and forth as she literally clung to him. "I know, Princess. I know ."

  "But my beautiful hair!!" she sobbed disconsolately. "You were right—I never wanted to cut it in the first place—I was just going to do it once I had mated because that's what you do, but I miss it so much already—it was just lying there on the floor when it was done and I wanted to ask her to glue it back on ."

  He ran his hair through the drastically shortened locks. "It's just hair. It will grow back soon," he soothed, pressing his lips to her temple .

  "I will never ever cut it again, no matter what, sir, I promise ."

  "I know you won't, Princess," he said with great conviction .

  She snuffled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I disobeyed you ."

  He kissed her forehead gently. "I believe you are," Vallon said, taking her hand and leading her over to the end of the bed, where he began to undress her. "And I believe you truly will be, by the time I'm through with you ."

  Cika gasped and tried to get away, but he was holding her too tightly in anticipation of that move, and, to tell the truth, her attempts were rather feeble, as if she knew deep down, that she truly deserved whatever it was that he was going to do to her. And she could only go an arm's length from him, anyway, before he reeled her in to relieve her of another article of clothing, until she was standing nude before him .

  She had lost a lot of her shyness around him—until then. The way he was looking at her now, though, made her desperately want to cover her nakedness, but every time she tried to, he slapped her hands away and smacked her bottom .

  "Eyes on mine, hands at your sides," he ordered, almost too softly, but she obeyed him nonetheless, and he was glad—if somewhat surprised—to see that there was no hesitation to do so on her part .

  Vallon looked down into those sad, tear filled eyes, wanting to do nothing more than kiss and cuddle her and reassure her that it was going to be all right. And it would be all right, because, as he'd said, her hair would grow back—and he would make damned sure that she would never have the impulse nor the opportunity to cut it again. But he knew he couldn't yield to the softer side of him—the one that only wanted to make her happy and hear her crying out in the bliss that he brought to her .

  It wasn't really the hair itself that upset him, necessarily—although he knew that he was going to take a lot of ribbing about being married to a man when they got back to his home, but he could take that. What he couldn't take was her disobeying him so blatantly, regardless of whatever societal—or sisterly—pressure she might have been under. Her allegiance—her submission—had to be to him and him alone—he would tolerate nothing less .

  And he understood that it must've been hard for her—especially considering her warped relationship with her sister—to have been mocked and insulted by a woman who had been a bit of a rival all her life .

  But that ended, here and now. He was going to teach her obedience, if it was the last thing he did .

  Cika could see the muscle twitching in his jaw and knew that things were probably going to go worse for her than she could ever imagine. And she was right, in more ways than one .

  When she was nude—and he, surprisingly, remained in his ritual robe, one of the few times she could remember that he hadn't divested himself of it the moment the doors closed behind the guards—he put a crooked finger beneath her chin. "I know this is premature, but I must tell you what I am feeling ."

  It was the last thing she would have expected him to say, and she felt both her heart sink and her chest swell painfully, not having any idea what might come out of his mouth. And what did, stunned her to the core .

  "I love you. I don't know if you even have that concept here between men and women, considering how you all seem to feel about men, but where I come from, it is an emotion that is very coveted, especially when shared between very lucky, very happy couples. I don't expect that you would feel the same way about me, and that's fine. This is all very new to you, and I think you've done wonderfully acclimating to what I've demanded of you. You've made me very proud in a lot of different ways and in an incredibly short amount of time. I think I've loved you since we met and you were so kind to someone that I know—because you said it—meant no more to you than a stray dog in the street. Then, when we were first together, here—and even since then—you were reduced to tears at the sight of my wounds, and that touched me deeply, and made me think I might want more from you than I had any right to dream of .

  He cleared his throat. "I also know that, more recently, I have given you repeated cause to want to hurt me very badly, and yet you have never done it, although I know you have the means to do so at your fingertips. You are beautiful and smart and courageous and caring, and those are only a few of the qualities I have come to love about you ."

  Vallon was speaking from his heart, but he was also arranging her the way he wanted her as he did so, encouraging her—with great gentleness, considering—to put her bent forearms on the bed while spreading her legs wide behind her, and he tucked her feet just a bit closer to the bed, so that her bottom—as well as parts of her soft bits—were well presented as a target. Then, after considering her silently for a moment, he changed his mind and brought her ar
ms out from under her, stretching them out wide above her, whispering almost regretfully, "You'll probably want to grab the bedcover—you're going to need something to hold on to before very long ."

  Cika wanted to balk at this obscene and highly embarrassing position, her heart pounding at what he'd just said, in particular, but consciously didn't, for the exact reason he began to touch on .

  "You submitted yourself to me not long ago, and I know it must have been one of the hardest things you've ever done in your life—to go against everything you've been taught about how things should be between males and females, especially since I know that you are still seventy-five percent or more sure that nothing I've said to you about my life and my planet is real—that I've made it all up for the express purpose of having my way with you ."

  His big hand rested on her back, patting softly. "And that was the thing you've done that touched me the most—because I know you think I'm a lunatic or, at the very least, an incredible liar, and yet you—a princess royale—have seen fit to trust me with relieving you of your purity. But more than that, you conformed yourself to my will almost perfectly, and when you weren't perfect, you found yourself on the receiving end of more and stricter punishments than I think you have ever received in your life—all from a man you still think of, in your heart, as a slave ."

  That hand moved to cover her bare, vulnerable bottom and begin spanking in that devastating, unrelenting rhythm he had that she'd become all too familiar with, making each swat count as heavily as he could, making her begin to fidget and whimper within just the first five .

  "For my own part, I should never have allowed myself to have become involved with you—I was doing anything I could to escape, find the man that survived the crash with me and then we could have found our way off this planet and back to where we belong." Vallon almost paused then, but not quite. She wasn't to be given a moment's respite. "But once I'd seen you—and been the recipient of your unexpected kindness—I couldn't do it. Not without you. And I certainly did not want your first time to be with one of those animals I had been herded in with. I knew you deserved better ."

  Cika was listening as best she could, but it was growing rapidly harder and harder to follow him as he set her flesh ablaze with each powerful new smack. At one point, she almost made as if to straighten up, but a warning hand on the small of her back stopped her .

  "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," he suggested mildly. "This is going to be hard enough for you without compounding your flagrant disobedience by getting out of position during the punishment ."

  "Yes, sir," Cika whispered, sobbing harder now than she had been .

  "So, I'm telling you now that I still intend to leave this planet, at some point in the near future, and I will be taking you with me. My greatest desire is that, when I do, I won't be kidnapping you or taking you as a hostage. I will be returning to my planet with you on my arm as the woman I intend to formally marry, as soon as it can be arranged—the same day we arrive, if it can be managed." He very carefully didn't mention that, according to the laws of his home planet, the moment they mated, they were considered to be wed to each other. "I know you only agreed to submit to me within the confines of these four walls, and very possibly, only for the lark of it. But—as you are about to find out, and I think you already know—I don't and never have recognized any limits to your submission to me. I expect you to obey me, regardless of where you are or who you are with. I never intended to let you go, and if you truly believe that your submission to me was temporary—a role you were playing, something fake and throwaway that you could take on and off as the whim struck you—then you're going to have a startling comeuppance because it is going to be your way of life .

  "Stay still," he ordered sharply, taking several steps to the left then returning to her side with something in his hand that he draped over her lower back. "If I have to, I will take you with me by force, but, as I've said, that is not at all what I would prefer, and, unless I've missed my guess and misjudged you quite badly, I don't think I'll need to, once you actually come to grips with what it is that you want out of your life—and it's not to follow in your mother's footsteps ."

  It seemed as if he was considering what he would do and then he took up what he had so recently set down. Cika wasn't sure what it was but it smelled of leather, and she had a horrible feeling that it was a belt .

  And when he brought it down across both of her already thoroughly seared cheeks, she was quite sure of it. She found herself subject to the same rhythm with this much more devastating implement as she had been with his hand, which had been more than bad enough .

  His ability with the belt was a thing of pure evil, she soon found out. As she was not bound in any way, it was an incredible test of her submission to him, one she surprised herself by being determined not to fail, no matter how hard he whipped her .

  "By my confession, I have given you what I imagine to be more than enough ammunition to have me shot on sight the next time any guard sees me but then you've always had the ability to at least render me completely neutralized, haven't you? I wasn't always as careful as I should have been about your little wrist control, and there have been moments at which I know you must have longed for the ability to render me as helpless and in as much pain as I have you—now being probably the most obvious of those times. But you haven't, and that—along with the fact that no matter how hard I punish you, I always also find you wet and ready to receive me—gives me hope—a strong hope—that this is more than a fantasy to you ."

  It didn't take long at all before Cika was trembling and covered in sweat, moaning and pleading for him to stop with every stroke he sent searing across the length of her backside—tender thighs included .

  But she stayed in position, bottom out, head eventually bowed, a large puddle of tears dampening the bedclothes beneath her as she sobbed pitifully, fingernails practically having worn holes in the coverlet because she had been clutching it like a lifeline for so long. Her legs had—as she had naturally shook and shimmied them in a futile attempt to either avoid a blow or relieve the stunning pain of one—drifted a bit closer together, but he had always forced her back into that atrociously vulnerable position before lacing into her once again, often—deliberately, she suspected—catching not only the sensitive insides of her thighs, but even worse, those softest parts of her that only he had ever known, and the pain from that was the most horrendous she had ever experienced .

  Cika didn't think it would ever stop as she both felt and heard him draw his arm back to bring the belt down against her cringing flesh yet again .

  But that was when all hell broke loose, and she heard the words that struck even more fear into her heart than his did on occasion, "Make way for the queen !"

  And it was that exact tableau that her mother—and, of course, her sister, who was following closely behind—interrupted. Vallon stood there over her, big heavy leather belt in his equally large hand, just about to bring it down onto her upturned, angrily mottled cheeks as she lay there, splayed and punished .

  "What in the bloody hell is going on here?! Guards, restrain him!" her mother called, and he was instantly dragged away from her, the belt falling onto the floor as he was clapped into chains once again. Cika rose slowly, painfully and turned to address her mother, not having any idea what she could say at this moment and not even bothering to hide her nakedness .

  Sillandra's comment on the embarrassing situation was a surprisingly reserved, "Oh, my," although she, of course, was looking on the proceedings with a gleefully smug, self-satisfied expression .

  "Put some clothes on, girl!" the queen ordered .

  "Yes, Mother ."

  Cika quickly shouldered into a robe that had been lying across the end of the bed. It too had a large, dark tear stain that everyone could see, just like her
bed. "I'm sorry—I wasn't expecting you — "

  "Obviously not," her mother snapped. "Your sister had mentioned to me that she had become quite concerned by your behavior lately, suggesting I might want to pay you a visit, and I am damned glad I did! I cannot tell you how shocked I am by this, Cika! I knew you were a little unusual, with your bookishness and your complete disinterest in learning how to govern a planet you were supposed to rule one day, and your even stranger aversion to mating and bearing children. And even once you had mated, and for quite a while afterwards, your sister tells me you hadn't cut your hair and you had even intimated to her that you might not do it at all ."

  Of course, Silly had to pipe up with, "Well, I'm glad to see at least that you've finally done as a grown woman does and rid yourself of all of that unnecessary hair ."

  "Shut up, Sillandra, this is about far worse than her hair," the queen said to her sister as an offhand aside, which gave Cika the slightest bit of pleasure to see her obsequious sister shut down. But then her mother rounded on her again. "I have done my best to accommodate your unique difference—apparently, I have done far more than I should have! So, I decided to take time out of my very busy schedule to see for myself what you are doing with your life. But the horrifying sight that greeted my eyes when we entered this chamber—this—this is beyond the pale !"

  "Yes, Mother," she murmured, head bowed .

  Then, to Cika's great amazement, her mother moved to stand in front of the man she had seen abusing and who she knew had been defiling her daughter, giving him a once over that was fit to rival any slaver's practiced eye, although she had merely skimmed over his face, perhaps not wanting to lock eyes with one of the two sources of the most embarrassing situation she'd ever encountered in her life. "This is the mate your sister chose for you? What possessed you, Sillandra, to take your sister to the slave markets to find a mate? He is most unsuitable, of course, as everyone has already had an eyeful. If I don't banish you altogether for your shameful behavior here this evening, Cika, I shall have to find you another myself. Take him to the — "

 

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