Captured: The Xandari Chronicles (Book One) (Dark Sci-Fi Romance)

by Raven Dark

  His eyes danced. “Ah. Trying to blow up a city-sized asteroid with a slingshot, nayna? I could gut you before you even moved. Besides, your hand is shaking.” His eyes flicked to the knife.

  He was right. It was trembling.

  “You’re more likely to cut your hand open than cut me.” He set the sword on the bed and held his arms out. “Go ahead. Try it. Cut me.”

  I held the blade in both hands, unable to bring myself to put it down and leave myself unarmed with him baiting me like this. With his sword in reach. I couldn’t cut him, either, though. Couldn’t even bring myself to close the distance. Instead, I stood there with the knife trembling, my chest heaving.

  “Give me the knife, nayna.” He held out his hand. “Or take a slice at me. Right here.” He ran his finger across his chest.

  It hit home what I’d done. I’d threatened the ruler of this world with a knife. A slave, threatening the king. I was dead. My eyes blurred with tears, and a small sob escaped, my fist like a vice around the knife’s hilt. A knife that suddenly looked small and useless against him.

  Raul had invited me to take a swing, and I couldn’t.

  He stepped forward until his chest filled my vision, his palm out. “Give me the knife, nayna,” he rasped.

  I shook my head at him. “Raul, please—”

  He closed his hand around mine, slowly slipping the blade from my grip. I was too weak with terror to even hold it. God, I was so stupid.

  And so totally dead.

  As soon as he had the knife, Raul seized my hair and yanked my head all the way back. I cried out. This was it. He was going to kill me. Or have me killed.

  But he didn’t kill me. Instead, Raul tossed me over his shoulder and carried me to a door off to the side. I thrashed and squirmed in his hold, but it did no good. The door banged open as if he’d kicked it. He strode into another bedroom suite, crossed the room and dropped me onto a soft surface.

  I looked around. I’d landed across a bed. Before I could react, Raul knelt between my legs and captured both of my wrists in one hand. Pinning them easily to the mattress above my head.

  He held the knife up in front of my face, his eyes livid above mine. My breath sawed in and out, my heartbeat flooding my ears. He really was going to kill me now. I wasn’t one to beg, but I didn’t want to die, either.

  “Raul, don’t. Please.” I was fucking sobbing. God.

  “You pulled this on me.” His eyes flicked to the knife again.

  “You were coming at me with a sword!”

  He shook his head. “You stupid girl. You stupid, stupid girl. I wouldn’t have killed you.”

  But judging by his tone, he would now.

  Raul reversed the knife in his grip, the way one did when they meant to plunge it in for the kill.

  I screamed bloody fucking murder… Until I heard a loud thunk.

  I jerked my eyes to the headboard beside my head, where the knife was embedded hilt deep. He’d stabbed the headboard instead of me. I stared up at him now, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest.

  “You thought I was going to kill you.” His grip on my wrists loosened, but he was still pinning them to the bed. His fingers drove into my hair, fisting it, and yanking my head back again. “I have no intention of killing you. I told you, I like the fire in you.”

  The bite of pain from his grip on my hair was going straight between my legs. The feel of his grip on my wrists and the weight of his chest flattening me to the bed made me feel deliciously helpless and trapped.

  What the hell? He’d scared me half to death, and now my body was crying out for him. I was so hot I felt like I was going to pass out. I also felt…

  Owned. I was painfully aware of his authority and that, with every fiber of my being, I needed—no, craved—whatever he’d do to me now.

  If there was a God, I wanted him to kill me right the fuck now and send me straight to hell where sick girls like me belonged.

  Frozen by my fucked up thoughts, I just lay there, waiting for whatever inevitable hell was coming.

  “But my tolerance for your insubordination has its limits,” he went on, tightening his grip on my hair until I winced. “You crossed a line, and you will be punished for it, nayna.”

  Big surprise. These men seemed to live for punishment. I should have been terrified, and I was. Oh, I was. But I was also turned the hell on.

  With no way out, I closed my eyes, still waiting.

  Raul climbed off the bed.

  What the fuck was he doing? I opened my eyes, and immediately wished I hadn’t. He flicked open his belt.

  “Turn over,” he ordered.

  I sat up a little, as slowly as the ice flooding my veins. I didn’t move—couldn’t bring myself obey.

  Raul folded the belt in his fist. I’d seen Outlander once, I knew what he was going to do. Except Raul was no Jamie. His eyes were pure discipline. And for some unfathomable reason, my pussy was clenching.

  Kill me now. Just kill me now.

  “Turn over,” he repeated slowly. “If I have to ask you again, what you get will be much worse.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he seized my wrist and threw me onto my stomach. I cried out. He ignored it.

  “Raul—”

  “Enough.”

  I kicked at him, but he shoved my legs apart and pushed the back of my slave’s dress up to my waist, baring my ass to him.

  God help me.

  25

  A Promise From the Devil

  As soon as the belt cracked down on my ass, fire blazed across my skin. It hurt like a motherfucker, and a scream ripped out of me.

  “Owe, you son of a bitch, fuck off!”

  “Screaming will not help you, Vahashatai. I told you before, there are laws on this world for a reason. You broke them, there must be consequences.”

  Pure excitement dripped from his tone, but I hardly had a chance to register it before he reined a world of hellfire on my ass.

  The belt cracked across my cheeks over and over. Ten times it must have come down, each strike more painful than the last. My sobs filled the room, but he ignored them. Fuck, the man had no heart. No heart at all.

  I tried to shut down, to retreat to a place where he, where the pain couldn’t reach me, but there was no place dark or deep enough where the hell that was him couldn’t reach.

  The belt came down a final time with a resounding snap and a blazing sting. He straightened, panting, I was shaking with fury, gripping the quilt under me for dear life. How I didn’t whip around and kill him right then and there, I didn’t know.

  I wanted to tell him to stop, again, to throw every insult in the book at him, but I didn’t. Contrary to Raul’s belief, I wasn’t stupid. Grabbing the knife, pointing it at him, those things had been actions based on panic and fear for my life. He wasn’t about to kill me, and I knew better than to poke the bear. If I was too much trouble, he might change his mind.

  So instead, I lay there, heartbeat filling my ears, every muscle coiled with fear and panic over whatever he’ do now. Raul set the belt down on the bed beside my head, but he wasn’t done with me yet. Somehow I knew that.

  He leaned over me, running his huge hands up over my back and then down over my ass and thighs. Ignoring my whimpering at the sting. His touch scalded my skin even where his belt hadn’t touched, searing my soul every bit as much as the beating he’d just given me. The burn threatened to scour away my sanity.

  “You should see your ass right now, Vahashatai. Your cheeks look so beautiful, all red with my marks.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than me. The growled praise heated my insides, fueling the fire in me. And making me so wet his quilt had to be soaked by now.

  Anything I said might only encourage him, so I said nothing, my hands still fisting the quilt under me.

  I heard him inhale and then let the breath out slowly.

  “You look so much better like this, Vahashatai. Spread out across my bed, waiting for me to give you what you d
eserve.” Need turned his voice gruff, desire hovering on the edge of control. My pussy hummed with longings I had no business feeling now.

  His fingers slid between my legs, through my sopping folds. A rumble of surprise and approval left him. “Rosht. So wet,” he rasped in my ear. “It appears as though you enjoyed my beating you more than you let on. I knew there was darkness in you just waiting to be brought out.”

  Humiliation rolled over me in waves. The threat in his tone, that he’d gladly put me through this same hell again, twisted my insides in knots. Why did he have to be so fucking hot?

  I moaned and buried my face in the quilt.

  “What’s the matter, nayna?” Raul rumbled. “Nothing to say?”

  ‘What do you want me to say, Raul?” Dammit, there was a lot of brittle there.

  He chuckled and stroked my hair. “V’ir, nayna. Here, I am always V’ir.”

  “V’ir,” said sullenly, without saying more.

  “Oh, come on. Mouth off. Give me more reason to slap you, nayna.”

  Was he serious? I couldn’t tell if he was daring me or ordering me. Whatever the case, I could hear it now; he was livid with me, only his anger went beyond my pulling the knife on him. I’d done something he wanted me to pay for.

  Again, I said nothing, refusing to rise to his bait.

  “Perhaps you are not as foolish as I thought.” He straightened. A drawer opened in the nightstand. I heard him fiddling with something.

  My senses hammered, questions chasing each other through my thoughts. Questions soaked in fear. I didn’t dare look at him. I didn’t have to.

  Raul leaned over me and showed me his fingers. There was a blueish, luminescent jell on them. “Do you know what this is?” he purred. “No, you wouldn’t. You’ve never done this.”

  Oh, God, done what?

  His fist grabbed my hair and his voice was a soft, dark rumble in my ear. “You’ve never had a man’s cock in your ass, have you, nayna?”

  In my… Oh my God!

  Raul was fucking huge. I so wasn’t ready for this. The jell was lube, I realized, but it would only help so much. Panic reared up sharply, and I jerked my shoulders up. He held me still, as effectively as a steel trap.

  “A piece of advice for you, Vahashatai. You are not getting out of this, so you might as well lie down and settle in while I ride you. If you relax, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

  Holy shit. His words nearly had me squirming into the bed, anything to relieve the throb in my pussy. I could hear the pleasure, the pure hunger in his voice. I licked my lips.

  “Raul…” My voice was a small tremble. Tears leaked from my eyes, fear chipping away at my resolve.

  A soft rumble left him. “Scream and cry all you want, nayna. It won’t stop me.” He shoved my legs wide, keeping my feet apart with his. “A man of Xandar who doesn’t punish his woman for her infractions is not worthy of calling himself a man or a Xandari.”

  And that’s when the rightness, that fucking cursed rightness settled in, a poisonous seed of want and need that latched itself onto my soul and spread its dark tentacles out like an alien parasite.

  Raul’s palms spread my ass cheeks. I mewled in shame, then did it again when his lubed-up finger slipped into my puckered hole. The sting hurt like hell, and I hissed between my teeth.

  “Get used to this, Vahashatai. Your ass is gorgeous. I will claim it every moment I can after this. I shouldn’t give you any preparation after you put a knife in my face, but if I damage you, we won’t be able use you again for weeks.”

  He slid his finger in and out. I tensed, whimpering in pain, trying to twist away, but his other hand had my shoulder again. “Stop moving. Relax, or it will hurt a lot more.”

  It did hurt, like fire, but my pussy was also throbbing with a different kind of burn. Drugged need filled my blood, making me dizzy. “Pussy…” I huffed. “My pussy…I won’t fight you if—”

  “Not a chance.” His finger slid deeper, all the way up to the knuckle. I squealed and bit the quilt.

  “It hurts.”

  “You should have thought of that before you pointed a blade at my face.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, V’ir.” I sneered. “I don’t like being threatened with a sword. I’m funny that way.”

  “Oh, shut your shleta mouth.”

  He slid his finger out. There was a loud, wet, slicking sound. It sank in what it was; he was slicking his cock. I jerked, and his fist seized my hair, yanking. The wetness of his palm told me it was the same hand he’d used on his cock.

  “Stay still,” he growled.

  I froze. A small sob escaped.

  The head of Raul’s cock teased my ass, huge and hard. Every muscle in me tensed like a coiled spring on the verge of breaking. I knew I should relax, knew I had to, but I couldn’t. I hated him.

  “Fost, your ass is going to feel so good, shleta.” With one hand still gripping my hair, Raul pushed the head of his cock inside, hissing between his teeth as if I’d scalded him.

  I wailed and bucked. The sting doubled in intensity. His grip on my hair tightened, vicious. Trapping me.

  Raul cursed and thrust all the way in, a single hard, deft stroke.

  The feeling was like nothing I’d ever felt in my life. It hurt like a bitch, stinging like the fires of hell itself, but the pain stroked at something deep inside me, deeper than anything he could over physically touch. Pressure filled my ass; I was aware of every inch of him, the sensation making me feel strangely connected to him, as if in claiming my body, he’d taken possession of much more.

  “Shit!” I screamed. I gripped the quilt in a white-knuckled grip, my whole body shaking with something between agony and extreme arousal.

  He made a sound in his throat I’d never heard before, animalistic, hungry, male and filled with lust.

  So hot. So. Fucking. Hot.

  Raul pulled slowly out and thrust back in, harder this time. I howled, and he made the same sound, as though my reaction turned him on.

  “Jesus Christ, Raul!” I couldn’t figure out if I shouted in need or rage. Or pain.

  He pulled out and thrust in, hips slapping mine. “This isn’t supposed to be a stroll through the Gandar Belt, nayna. It’s punishment.”

  Again, he pulled out and slid back in, swift and hard.

  “I told you I would rule you with an iron fist.”

  Thrust.

  “Then fuck you like a savage, reminding you of your place.”

  Thrust.

  “Just the way you like it.” He panted the words, gruff and needy, threading the needle between animal lust and a master’s control. Every thrust hammered me into the bed, made me cry out, and made me hotter than hell.

  “You barbarian son of a bitch, this isn’t what I meant!”

  He growled in pleasure and leaned over me, hands splayed on the bed, to either side of my head. Speeding up, firm, authoritative thrusts. “Isn’t it? Then why are you wetter than an Andarian whore?”

  Fuck, I was. My sex was soaked, every part of me greedy for more.

  “If you don’t enjoy this, why are you spreading your legs wider for me?”

  Damn, I was, too. At some point, his thrusts had stopped hurting. They felt good. Damn good, and I wanted more.

  I wailed in despair. “I hate you!”

  He rumbled his appreciation, grabbed my shoulders and sped up, fucking my ass like the brute he was. “Spread your legs wider, shleta. Let me fuck your whore ass.”

  The words made me livid. They almost made me come. I rocked my hips into him, my body feeding off his brutality.

  “You were made for this.” He hummed in throat, his hips smacking mine in a furious beat. “I abandoned my world for you, bitch. Give me what’s mine.”

  Oh my fucking God. So that’s why he was doing this! How could I have been so stupid as to not realize that? His world was falling to pieces, his father was dead, and he’d been off getting me. He hated me as much as I hated him, and now I knew why.

 
; “So fucking good, shleta.” He roared and I heard a thump and a crack as if he’d hit something. Then he was pounding my ass hard and fast, grunting.

  An orgasm ripped into me and I sobbed in horror, in rapture, gripping the quilt so hard it should have ripped. The bed rattled, something broke with a splintering sound.

  I went over the edge, screaming and thrashing. He growled and yanked hard on my hair. Then his thrusts turned frantic. He slapped his hand over my mouth and nose.

  My air cut off. I howled and writhed, half terror, half wild need. That euphoria and the helpless, powerless feel of him controlling every part of me down to my last breath driving me mad.

  Raul roared again, this time in release. He gave a handful of sharp thrusts, spilling seed into my ass. He released my face and slumped across me, burying his face in my hair.

  Spent and filled with shame, I lay there, panting heavily and thinking of ways to murder him.

  “Still want to kill me, Vahashatai?” He brushed my hair from my face and back, running his lips over my shoulder.

  “Yes,” I mumbled into the quilt.

  He laughed softly, straightened and slapped my thigh. “Good. Never stop that, shleta. I love fucking a woman when she hates me. Stay there.”

  I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. My chest was heaving, my legs jelly, my head pounding with the exertion of his vicious fucking.

  Footsteps scuffed across the floor. Water ran in what must have been a bathroom. I heard him wash himself off and scrub his hands, whistling as he worked.

  My God, I loathed him. I loathed him to the deepest pit of hell.

  Raul returned and turned me onto my back, pushing me up further on the bed, spreading my legs. He had a wet cloth in his hand and wiped my pussy and ass down thoroughly.

  I lay there, shame twisting my insides. “This isn’t humiliating at all,” I mumbled.

  He grinned. “Pull a knife on me again, Vahashatai. That was fun. I want more.”

  I deflated, defeated, and threw my arm across my face. There was no hope of reaching him at all. He and Malek didn’t give a flying fuck. Not one flying fuck.

  He straightened, turned me over and gave my thigh a hearty smack that carried the feel of finality.