Rebel Mate

by Grace Goodwin

  She grumbled as she removed her shoes, socks and pants, but I did not interrupt, too eager to see what would soon be mine. When she straightened, still mumbling about this strange beverage, I opened my mouth to interrupt when the sight of a golden bar piercing her naval brought me up short.

  I had seen a teasing glimpse of it before, but now… What was the meaning of such a piercing on Earth? Was it a sign she’d been claimed? That she’d belonged to someone there? It couldn’t be, for she’d been a bride. Volunteered.

  I’d been patient and would be patient still, yet I wanted to taste. I wanted to adorn the golden chain running between her nipples, tug them into tight peaks. The golden bar I wanted to lick. Taste. The sight exotic and unique. This female continued to surprise me, and that alone made my cock harden and pulse. I stepped close, and she turned. I stepped even closer. She might retreat, but I would not give her room. “Hands over your head. Back to the wall. Do not move unless I tell you to.”

  Her tongue flicked out again, swiped her bottom lip as she bumped into the unforgiving wall. “Okay.”

  Slowly, I shook my head as I took in every inch of her. Pale skin, shapely hips, trim waist. Upturned nipples. And a pussy that was bare except for pale curls above that all but beckoned me to seek every hidden treasure.

  “Yes, master,” I said as I visually drank my fill. “You will call me master.”

  She frowned. “That’s kinky.”

  I thought of her previous description of this term. Cutting her flesh. Striking her with a whip. Worse. The images enraged me. She would not think of such things with me. “On your hands and knees.”

  When she hesitated, I easily lifted her in my arms, carried her to the bed and sat down with her stomach across my thighs.

  “Hey!” she shouted, kicking and squirming.

  With her face down, her round, perfect ass tempted me almost as much as her pussy. “You did not listen to me, gara. You did not obey your master’s commands.”

  “What? Oh, I just—”

  With a light slap, I brought my hand down on her bottom, expecting her to yell. Squirm. Protest.

  She did none of these things.

  Instead, she settled, then moaned. “Oh, god.”

  Fark, just as I’d assumed. She was the perfect Trion female.

  The scent of her wet heat permeated the air, and I inhaled sharply, my cock bursting at the seam of my pants. I was hot. Overheated. Holding her in place with one hand, I removed my own tunic, tossed it across the room. Skin. I would have her hands on my skin soon. Her mouth. Her body. Everywhere. I would take her everywhere.

  With a sharp swat on her opposite ass cheek, I peppered her bottom with my heated palm until her flesh was a hot pink, and her pussy juices had wet the insides of her thighs. “Before you say anything, this isn’t a beating.”

  “It’s punishment,” she countered, her hair falling in a curtain around her face.

  “It is not punishment if you are aroused by it. That you can’t deny. The punishment comes when I don’t allow you to orgasm after.”

  “Oh God,” she moaned, realizing quickly that I didn’t need to beat or harm her to have her comply.

  “Call me master,” I repeated.

  I gave her an out, a way to make the spanking stop, but she refused. “No.”

  Pulling her bottom up into the air, I pushed two fingers deep inside her molten pussy and scissored them inside the tight channel. She bucked, her fingertips digging deeply into the muscles of my legs, but she did not try to move away. I slipped them from the wet heat. She whimpered. “Call me Master.”

  “No.”

  Rubbing my thumb along her clit, I found the sensitive flesh and plucked at it like I would a string, over and over until she was a panting, sweaty mess. But I did not allow her to come. Would not allow her to find release until she addressed me properly. “Who am I?”

  “Isaak.”

  My name on her lips brought me pleasure but was still an act of defiance. One my nature would not allow. Not here. Not now, with her naked body on display. She would surrender control. I would not lose this battle. Something told me if I allowed her even a small victory, I would never have the chance to make her truly mine again. She was too defiant. Too strong. She had to learn what was in her, what the testing had discovered she truly desired.

  I had to conquer her here and now for that alone. But also because she may never give me another chance. Might choose another male on Trion. A worthy male. A fighter who had served the Coalition Fleet and earned his place by her side. Who would not push her to call him master.

  No. I was too damn selfish to allow that. She was mine now. Mine.

  “Do you wish to use your safe word?” I asked. She had yet to say it, which meant she was not opposed to the position in which she found herself.

  “No.”

  Reaching below my feet, I pulled a small footstool from beneath the sleeping mat, one just large enough for me to rest both booted feet upon when my legs were stretched out before me.

  I lifted my feet and rested my heels on the stool. Legs straight before me and slightly down at an angle, I lifted my female so that she straddled my legs but facing away from me and toward my boots. Her breasts rested against my knees, her stomach covered my thighs, and her thighs wrapped around my hips. I stared down the length of her curves, the delicate line of her spine, the swells of her hips, the spread ass cheeks exposing the wettest, hottest pussy I’d ever seen. I pulled my cock free from the front of my pants. “Place your hands on my ankles, gara, and do not move unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” She shuddered at the tone of my voice, the command, her flesh rising in small, sensitive bumps as her body responded to me.

  “Yes, Master,” I insisted.

  She shook her head from side to side and buried her chin between my legs, refusing to answer me. Why this was so difficult for her, I did not know, but it was a battle I would win.

  Lifting her hips, I placed my cock at her heated core and pulled her backward, toward me, sliding her onto my hard length like placing a sheath on a sword. She cried out, the delectable sound echoing off the walls of the room. Her inner walls clenched, the heat of her surrounding me. Her arousal coating my cock, dripping onto my balls.

  She used her grip on my ankles to press back, trying to take more, to force my pace. But I would not move. Sweat dotted my brow. “No, gara. I am not going to fuck you. Not yet. Not until you call me master.”

  “No.”

  Cock buried deep, I held completely still as she wiggled her hips. Writhed. Tried to gain position. Friction. Motion. I denied her. And myself.

  Sliding my hands down her sides, I reached beneath her and cupped her breasts, found the rings and chain there. Tugged gently when she tried to move away.

  “Oh, God.” Her groan was accompanied by the walls of her pussy clamping down even more on my cock, and I struggled to control the urge to rut into her body like an animal.

  “Not god. I am a male,” I clarified. “A dominant Trion male, and you will call me master, or you will not be allowed to come.” I tugged gently on the chain between her breasts and used the weight of her body on my forearms to pull her up and back onto my cock, fully penetrating her. My cock hit the hard wall of her womb, and she whimpered, her body flooding mine with even more wet welcome.

  “Please.”

  Ah, she begged.

  “Master. Who is your master?” Releasing one nipple, I wrapped a fist in her hair and gently tugged, lifting her face from where she’d been hiding from me, arching her back, fucking her as I held her in place for my cock.

  “No one. I just want—”

  I thrust. Hard. “Who is your master?”

  “I don’t have a—”

  Rocking my hips up and forward beneath her, I rubbed the fabric of my pants that had gathered into a hard fold at the base of my cock against her clit.

  “Ahhh!” The first tremor of her orgasm gripped my cock, and I s
topped. Everything. I let her go. Pulled her off my cock which I was sure was as excruciating for me as it was for her. Released her from my arms and placed her gently on the floor. When she rolled onto her side with a whimper, it took every ounce of power and discipline I had not to give in, to roll her onto her back and plunge deep, to take what I knew she would give me.

  But I did not want a quick fuck. Despite the gods and fate and every other damn thing in the universe, I wanted her to be mine. I would not fail her by being weak when she needed me to be stronger than I’d ever been before. She would know I would not falter, would not give in. I would give her everything… in trade for her submission.

  “Isaak! That was mean.”

  “I am not Isaak.” I walked to a flat section of the wall and opened a small compartment, my cock hard and long, coated in her juices. The head was flared and angry, pre-cum seeping from it like a faucet.

  I went to the S-gen machine, ordered up what I wanted. I considered the use of the Prillon training device on her perfect ass. I would generate one of those... for later.

  For now…

  Rolling her onto her back, I was pleased when she did not resist. She did not use her safe word. I couldn’t help but smile at my defiant, submissive one. She didn’t realize that in her refusal to say her special word that she was submitting. Not well, but she was nonetheless. I refused to tell her that, for I had no doubt she’d call it then, just out of spite alone.

  “Call me Master.”

  She shook her head, her long hair a tangle on the floor behind her. “No way. Sorry. The sex might be great, but—”

  I squatted down beside her and attached the device to one nipple ring, and she glanced down, confused. “What is that?”

  The second went on her opposite ring before she had finished the question. And then I gently moved her thighs apart and attached the third to her clit. Admiring my work, wishing I had true chains and adornments to drape all over her beautiful curves—and the Trion right to do so—I slid the control device onto my finger and walked to the door, stripping my pants as I went. When I reached the far side of the room, I turned and stood with my back to the only exit. She had come up onto her knees but looked down at her piercings and the small device I had attached to her clit. No doubt they felt heavy, even without me activating the devices I’d attached. Although there was nowhere for her to go on the ship. No retreat. Her only escape was the one word. Hurricane.

  “Come to me, gara. Come to your master and kneel.”

  She tilted her head to the side as if I had confused her. She looked so delicate and soft. So vulnerable. Naked. Mine. Not forever but for now, she was mine.

  “Do I need to say the word? Because you are getting weirder and—”

  I activated the control on my finger, and she cried out, dropping to her hands and knees as the devices I had placed on her erogenous zones came to life. When she lifted her head to gaze up at me with wide, aroused eyes, when it looked like she would speak, I turned up the power and watched her roll onto her side, her head thrown back, hands clasped over her breasts as she moaned with pleasure. Her hips writhed.

  “Oh, God.”

  I turned them off. “Not a god. A dominant Trion male and your master.”

  “Holy shit.” She craned her neck to look at me, and I recognized the fire in her gaze. The defiance. “I just wanted to feel good for a few minutes. I don’t need this whole Dom-sub game you are playing.”

  I activated the device. Again. And again. Never allowing her to come. Just building her higher and higher into her pleasure until I had no doubt she’d come all over my cock the instant I sank inside her. A sheen of sweat coated her skin, her body was flushed, her nipples tight. Her pussy lips, which I caught a glimpse of every time she shifted and squirmed, were dark and swollen.

  “This is not a game. Your pleasure is mine. Your orgasms are mine. Your body is mine. I am your master.”

  8

  Zara

  * * *

  I was going to kill him. Or fuck him. Or lick him all over.

  If I could get close enough before he sent another delicious zing through my entire body like lightning to my nipples and my clit. I was on the edge, had been for too long, since he pushed that huge cock inside me… then did nothing.

  I ached. I needed to come. Not just wanted. Not turned on, fired up, whatever. My body was in full-on revolt. If I thought he would let me, I would reach downtown and take care of my orgasm myself.

  Sliding my hands low to try, I wasn’t even close when he zapped me again. My eyes rolled into the back of my fucking head, and I moaned.

  I could say hurricane, and it would stop. But did I want it to stop? No. Hell, no. But I wanted to come, and the only way that was going to happen was if he allowed my release.

  Allowed me. How had I sunk to that?

  The bliss pulsed through me, my clit so big and hard I bucked my hips up as if trying to rub it against air. How could something feel so good and so bad at the same time? What was wrong with me? My ass still stung from the spanking, and I had caught myself rubbing it against the floor to wake up the sting. I wanted more. Wanted him to spank my ass with his fingers buried in my pussy again until I came all over him, ass in the air. Screaming.

  Please. Please.

  He was fucking ripped, muscles and scars and power, like a god standing at the door with his toys and his eyes so hot they burned my skin every time he looked at me. His pants were gone, and his big cock jutted out. It was a reminder that I wasn’t the only one affected here. I knew no guy who pulled out and walked away once he’d gotten his dick buried deep. His hard length was a dark plum color, the head like a huge ass fire helmet. Pre-cum slipped down it, and I wanted to taste it, to flick it off.

  I wanted to say it. Master. One stupid word shouldn’t be so hard to say. It was just sex. A game.

  Except this was no game, and somehow, deep down, I knew that if I said the word, I’d be in deep, deep trouble.

  Yet I hadn’t used my safe word. End this one way or the other. I could say it and be done. I’d win.

  And then what? Would I win? It seemed the only way to have a winner was if I said the words, and he fucked me. We’d both win, both get the orgasm we both needed like air.

  If the safe word came from my lips, I’d still want more, and he’d dump me on Trion. Turn me over to some other Trion male who wanted me to call him master? Or worse, I’d go home to Earth and hook up with some loser who could barely pull his head away from his phone long enough to kiss me a couple times before getting himself off?

  Isaak was standing there, cock hard and balls probably bluer than Ulza the wicked witch’s skin. He wasn’t taking. Well, he wanted me to call him master, but he was giving. Giving me pleasure. Showing me how I could feel if I just gave over. I’d get what I wanted. His cock. An orgasm.

  But only then would he get his pleasure, too.

  Damn it. Fuck. Frustration built inside me like steam in a tea kettle, and I was about to blow.

  “Call me master,” he said once more.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He studied me for long minutes that felt like an hour as I laid on the floor looking up at him, admiring his chest. His dark hair. The cut of his jaw. The thick cock that jutted heavily from between his powerful legs. He really was gorgeous. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted to feel safe and treasured and… safe.

  “I see. Perhaps you require a different sort of persuasion.”

  If I had the energy left, I would have rolled my eyes at the dramatic statement, but the truth was, I didn’t. Every cell and fiber of my being was focused on holding onto the pleasure that was drifting away like clouds in the wind leaving me cold and lonely.

  Again.

  I blinked, and he was next to me, lifting me onto his lap, but this time I faced him, straddled his hips, and his cock slid inside my wet core like we’d been made for one another. I cried out at the feel of him once again stretching me ope
n, filling me up.

  “You will eventually call me master, Zara. You will surrender.”

  “No.” I denied him even as his cock slipped deeper, striking my womb.

  “I will earn your trust, gara. I demanded too much, too soon, as is my nature. But I will learn what you need, and you will surrender.”

  Afraid he was right, I didn’t deny his words. Instead, I reached for his hair and pulled his lips to mine for a soul-crushing kiss.

  I shifted my hips, riding him, trying to take what I needed. He wrapped his hands around me, crushing me to his chest, restricting my movement. I nearly sobbed in frustration. My nipples caressed by the stroke of skin on skin as our chests met. I felt him move oddly, and the devices activated once more.

  With his cock buried deep, I screamed as the orgasm instantly rolled over me like a tank crushing a daisy. One. Then two. The aftershocks were so strong they led to a third, and he hadn’t even moved. He held my head in his hands, tilted my face to his, and held my gaze as my body became something else, not mine.

  His.

  When I was too weak to do anything but collapse against his chest, he groaned, hands fisted in my hair, holding me tightly as his cock jumped, and he found his own release, his seed coating my core with heat and a ridiculous possessiveness I had never felt before.

  His scent filled my head with warmth. Safety. Contentment. I relaxed in his arms, and he stroked my sweaty back like I was precious. Special. Safe. The illusion, if it were one, was too damn good to dismiss, so I stayed where I was, content to play pretend for as long as we could.

  I hadn’t said my safe word. Yet I hadn’t said the word he wanted either. We’d both given in.

  Still, maybe I could somehow be his. Maybe. But maybe, he could be mine, too.

  My Master.

  Isaak

  * * *

  Zara sprawled atop me, her body pliant and soft. Whether she knew it or not, she trusted me. No one would sleep so deeply otherwise. She was soft and warm, pliant and… sweet in my arms.