He took her hand once again, pulling her to her feet. She swayed.
“Shall I carry you?”
She shook her head, horrified at the thought of being slung over his shoulder again, and pulled her hand away. “No. I’m all right. Just give me a moment to get the feeling back in my legs.”
“You’re probably wondering why I’m not on horseback,” he said as she stamped her feet a few times. “We left our horses tied up on the other side of the pass. Whoever gets there first will feed and water them, have them waiting patiently for the rest of us to arrive. We didn’t dare ride anywhere near Trondheim. Our Gadolinean steeds are too easily spotted, with their thick white coats. If Balam’s men caught sight of one of them, they’d have been expecting us.”
He glanced at the moon, hanging low in the sky, then back at her. “Ready?”
Without waiting for her response, he reached for her hand again, wrapping his warm fingers around her icy cold ones. “It’s not far. And I have surprises waiting for you,” he said, leading her further into the foothills. They walked in silence for a quarter mile or so, then he rounded an outcropping of boulders and waved a hand at a flickering light ahead. “A fire.”
She took a few more steps and came face to face with a tiny limp carcass lying on the ground in front of the flames.
“And a fresh-killed hare,” he announced with pride, “waiting for you to skin and dress it and roast it for us while I go fetch more wood for the night.”
Horrified, she snatched her hand away from his and backed up. “No! I won’t do it!”
“Look, I know you’ve been through a rough time. But be reasonable. We need food and enough wood to last us through the night. If we each do our part, we can have both and still get some rest. So I’ll ask you nicely. Will you please cook the hare?”
“I’m not touching that thing. I’d sooner starve!”
“That’s it!” He grabbed her around the middle and sank down on a waist-high boulder, pulling her over his lap. “I’ve had enough of your stubborn, willful ways.”
He slid his hand up her thigh, pulling the tail of his shirt up and baring her to the waist. “You may choose to starve,” he declared, “but I’ll be damned if I’m going to go hungry because you’re too proud to do your fair share of what needs to be done to keep us alive.”
The sharp smack of his broad palm connecting with her bare bottom echoed off the rocky chamber.
“You’ve been nothing but trouble since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he growled, spanking her first on one cheek, then the other.
Shocked, she laid there for a moment, then began kicking and bucking. He responded by shifting her body to trap her legs between his, and gave her two more firm whacks.
“I’ve been aching to spank this naughty ass since I caught you disobeying orders, wandering around alone in the city like some poor addled creature without a brain in your head.” His voice rose and he punctuated his words with more smacks. “You put both of us in danger that night. I had to give up my scouting to rescue you. I’ll wager the only thing that kept Balam from killing you outright was the sight of this saucy backside.”
She squealed as his hand came down harder. “Then you ruined our mission to free the king with your rebellion on the auction platform. In order to save this obstinate ass of yours, I had to abandon my own father, leave him there, locked away in a dank cell.”
His voice broke at that and he spanked her even harder, as if to punish her for causing him to give way to emotion.
Talia barely heard his rant through the riot of feelings going on inside her. The spanking hurt, yet it was so different from the punishments she’d endured back in the palace. She’d been paddled with a wooden board by Balam, forced to kneel at Sori’s feet for whippings from a mastodon penis as thick and hard as an alligator hide. But she’d never been draped over a man’s lap before, with the heat of his body warming her in front while his bare hand lit a fire on her bare bottom. This punishment was so intimate.
Unable to get away, she wiggled around on his lap as he spanked her steadily, reciting a list of her misdeeds all the while. Suddenly she became aware of a growing bulge beneath her. He was becoming aroused. It seemed that every time his body came in contact with hers, his base animalistic urges awakened. Would he now subject her to more of the humiliating acts she’d been enduring ever since she arrived on this cursed planet?
As though reading her thoughts, he gave her an especially hard whack. “Don’t think you can deter me by wiggling against my crotch! If ever a wench was in need of a good spanking, it’s you. And I plan to deliver what your father and brothers never did. Then after I’m finished, you’ll clean that damned hare and cook our dinner—or I’ll keep spanking you until you do!”
She broke down then. After days of holding it in, biting her lip till it bled rather than give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her cry when they punished her, she couldn’t do it any longer. Couldn’t stay strong and stoic. She began sobbing as though her heart would break.
“I’m… I’m hungry too,” she wailed, “but I don’t know how to clean a rabbit. I’ve never eaten one. I’ve never even touched one before… and the poor thing is so… so dead. I hate this place! I hate the cold, the bad smells, everyone touching me but never allowing me gratification. I wish I’d never come to your miserable planet!”
Chapter Six
Kylar froze, his hand still in the air ready to deliver another hard smack. Never come to my miserable planet? He dropped his hand, shocked. The poor girl truly did have an addled head.
Was no one caring for her? Perhaps she’d been separated from her family in all the confusion. No wonder she’d been wandering around the city all alone that night. She was helpless as a babe. And here he’d been spanking her for not behaving as a full-grown Viking woman. Suddenly ashamed of his fit of temper, he stroked her reddened bottom, murmuring words of comfort.
But that only seemed to make things worse. If anything, she cried even harder. Finally he lifted her and sat her on his lap, cradling her against his chest and stroking her hair. For once, she didn’t fight him, simply allowing him to cuddle her like a toddler. He needed to find out who she belonged to. No doubt they’d be frantic with worry by now.
Once the storm had subsided and she was reduced to sniffles, he began. His voice raised, his words slow and simple.
“What is your name, my child?”
She’d recovered enough by then to lift her tear-streaked face from his chest and stare at him.
“My name is Talia. Talia Anderson. I’m not your child. And I’m not deaf or slow-witted, so you can quit talking to me as though I were.”
“Anderson? I know an Anderson, but I never knew he had a daughter. Is your father Sten Anderson?”
“My father is William Anderson. Why in the world do you care what his name is?”
“William?” His brow wrinkled. “That’s not a Viking name.”
She opened her mouth to speak but he hurried on, still in that soothing tone, as though speaking to a child, and patting her shoulder all the while. “It’s no matter if you got it wrong. Don’t be afraid. I’ll see that we find the right man and return you to him. Until then, I’ll give you to my sister. She’s there in the fortress with the rest of the womenfolk. She’ll take good care of you.”
She pulled away and put both hands over her face, shoulders heaving.
“Don’t cry! It’s all right. She’s very kind. You’ll like her. And I promise no one there will spank you.”
* * *
Comprehension dawned. Talia couldn’t hold it in any longer. She covered her face and burst out laughing, as hard as she’d been crying only moments earlier. One part of her brain registered the fact that her emotions had spun out of control. But she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. It was as though her calm, rational mind had disappeared somewhere on her journey through the Portal, leaving behind a body that was nothing but a mass of primitive emotions.
See
ing the startled look on his face, she composed herself. If she kept on this way, he’d have good reason to think her brain-damaged. Sobbing uncontrollably, then giving way to a fit of laughter. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and lifted her head.
“I don’t need to see your sister. Apparently King Sigrun has been captured and is being held prisoner, as I was. I need you to take me to whoever is in charge in his stead.”
He stiffened, as though he’d been insulted. “That would be me.”
She laughed again, even harder. “Of course it would!”
“They told me to expect this,” she muttered to herself. “Told me that the men would most likely address all their remarks to Nelson and my other assistants. Warned me that I’d be dealing with a male-dominated, backward culture. I assured them I was up to the challenge. I’d win their respect.”
She struggled off his lap. Blushing, she smoothed his shirt back down over her stinging bottom with both her hands. Trying to forget the sensation of his hand stroking her hot cheeks while the bulge in his trousers pressed up against her naked mound, radiating a different kind of heat. Summoning as much dignity as she could, she stood up, shoulders back, head high.
“I am Talia Anderson, newly appointed ambassador to Gadolinium from the InterStellar Federation. Please take me to whoever is acting as your ruler in the absence of King Sigrun.”
He rose then too, towering over her. Eyes dark, face suddenly expressionless, voice cold. “As I said earlier, that would be me.” He gave a mocking half-bow. “Prince Kylar of Trondheim. In the absence of my father, reigning monarch of Gadolinium.”
He went on. “You’re the new ambassador? We expected a man. I sent my representative to welcome you and escort you back to the palace days ago. He never returned.” He stopped, shaking his head slowly. “It was early in the morning… the day of the Tabun invasion. We didn’t know about it yet. I heard nothing and when it did come to mind I assumed, I hoped, that he’d gotten you safely out of the city. My apologies, excellency. With all the chaos, my thoughts have been otherwise occupied.”
Talia listened to his speech, her mouth hanging open. He’d groped her, treated her with disrespect at their first meeting. Hauled her out of the palace over his shoulder stark naked, like a sack of grain, at their second. Forced her to run until she dropped from exhaustion, then spanked her bare bottom. This rude, ill-mannered oaf was the acting king?
He’s also risked his life to save yours. Twice now.
She frowned and made a valiant effort to put her injured pride aside. “Your… apology… is accepted. On behalf of Earth and all the worlds of the InterStellar Federation, I offer my condolences on the loss of so many of your citizens—and the plight of your king.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I accept your apology as well. And on behalf of the citizens of Gadolinium, I bid you welcome.”
She opened her mouth to point out that she’d offered no apology but he went on before she could get a word in.
“Though you are a guest in our world, you have arrived in the midst of an interplanetary war with the Tabun; the likes of which has not been seen in living memory. I must insist that from this moment on, you accept my authority and give me the same unquestioning obedience I expect from everyone whose life it is now my responsibility to protect.”
He continued in the same formal tone. “I must fetch more wood if we’re to have a fire to keep us warm tonight. We need nourishment as well.” He gestured to the hare. A note of sarcasm crept into his voice. “Despite your dignified position, I must insist that you do as I requested and cook our dinner. I’m needed back in the fortress so we’ll have to be on the move by dawn. We’ve both used a great deal of energy today and we won’t be able to travel swiftly without food and rest.”
She began shaking her head before he even finished. “I cannot.”
His face darkened. One powerful arm shot out and before she knew it, she was back over his lap, face down. His broad palm connected with her bottom again, sending a new wave of heat through her red, stinging cheeks. She let out a shriek.
“By all the gods, I’ve never been confronted with such a spoiled, willful wench! I swear I think you’d rather see us both starve than lift a finger. Do they all wait on you like a queen back on Earth?”
“Stop! Please. Please, no more.” She broke down again, lying limp over his lap, all the fight drained out of her. “It’s not that I won’t do my share,” she sobbed. “I don’t know how. I’ve never seen anyone cook a rabbit. I’ve never eaten one. I have no idea how to begin—if I could bring myself even to touch the poor creature.”
He stopped in mid-swing. “What?”
She slid off his lap to huddle on the ground at his feet. She pointed to the hare, then looked away, trying not to retch. “On Earth we do not consume animal flesh.” Her voice broke. “Before coming to your planet, I had never seen death. And now—I stripped the cloak from my dear comrade Nelson, while it was still warm with his blood. I stepped over severed body parts of the fallen lying in your streets. I watched Balam’s high priest cut the beating heart from one of your warriors.”
She looked up at him, her eyes bleak with misery. “I mean no disrespect, your highness, but I would sooner die myself than slice up that sad little creature.”
He stared down at her. “You don’t eat animals? How do you survive?”
“We eat balanced meals of…” She stopped. Their language had no words for synthetic protein or hydroponically raised fruits and vegetables, all cloned from the few plants that managed to survive before the domes were erected. “We eat a food-like substance our scientists create.”
He shook his head, still perplexed. “No roast boar? No venison stew? No plum cake on the winter solstice?” He gave her body another of his frank appraisals. She blushed again, as though she hadn’t been naked in front of him only hours ago.
“It’s a wonder you were able to grow into such a fine-figured woman. You could easily pass for a Viking maiden.” He shook his head in dismay. “I’m grateful my ancestors left your world when they did—and took the best of our livestock with them.”
He paused. “Well, then. Change of plan. I roasted many a hare on nights when there was no bigger game to be found in the forest. I’ll cook—and you can fetch wood. Surely you don’t mind touching dead bits of trees?”
She swallowed bravely. “As long as I don’t have to imagine them staring at me with big sad eyes, I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t stray too far from the light of the fire.” He gave her a quick once-over, running his eyes up and down her bare legs. “You’re shivering like a newborn lamb. Would you like my trousers along with the shirt?”
He reached down, as if to unfasten his belt, and she blushed again. She’d be unable to think of anything else all night if she got a glimpse of the hard cock she’d been fantasizing about ever since she first felt its heat. “No! I mean… no, thank you. I’ll be fine. I’m just not used to the cold.”
“Do you not have cool nights on Earth any more either?”
“No.” Seeing his look of disbelief, she hurried on. “Well, yes, we do. But we live inside huge shelters now, millions of people protected by enormous clear walls and ceilings high enough to cover even the trees. So we don’t feel the cold.”
“A strange world indeed.” He reached for the carcass of the hare and she turned and hurried away, unwilling to witness what came next.
She scoured the ground for fallen branches, loading them into her arms. After making several trips she’d collected a large pile of broken twigs.
He turned to her, flashing that warm smile. “That will do us well. I’ll put some stones near the flames and we can tuck them around us for heat when the fire dies out.” He reached for a flask hanging on his belt. “Dinner will be ready soon. Meanwhile I’d say we’ve earned a measure of this today,” he said, handing it to her.
She pulled out the cork and sniffed the contents. For once, it didn’t reek. “What is it?” she asked sus
piciously.
He grabbed the flask, took a long pull, and handed it back to her again. “No dead animals in here. Only the seductive honey mead, made with the help of an industrious hive of bees. Try it.”
Talia raised the flask to her lips and sipped. A burst of sweetness hit her tongue. She swallowed, then gasped as liquid fire poured down her throat. It burned all the way to her belly.
He watched her reaction closely. “Don’t tell me you haven’t tasted mead either? Next you’ll say Earthers don’t drink ale anymore. Go on. Have another sip. It will end those shivers.”
She swallowed another mouthful, this time prepared for the rush of heat that flowed through her veins afterward. “So this is what liquor is like,” she said, taking another sip before passing it back to him. “And to answer your question, no, I’ve never tasted honey mead. And we don’t have ale on Earth. Or wine. Or any strong spirits. They were outlawed several hundred years ago—right around the time we quit having sex with each other.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. She giggled at the look of horror on his face, then stopped as the sound echoed back off the rocks. It sounded odd. She’d never giggled before.
She reached for the flask. He handed it over with a warning. “Easy with that. Honey mead goes down as sweet and easy as a maiden touched by the goddess of love. But in the morning she’ll make you wish you were dead as that hare if you’re not careful.”
“I like it,” she announced. She giggled again, then cocked her head to listen to the echo. “I like giggling too,” she confided in a whisper. “I never made a noise like that before.”
“Did you and your girlfriends not drive your father mad with your giggles? I remember many a formal dinner with the king telling my sister and her friends to hush, once they were old enough to join us down at the other end of the long banquet table. But it would only set them off in another fit. Then, despite all his blustering, my father couldn’t help smiling at them. He said they brought back memories of my mother, Queen Astra. They met when she was but a giggling young lass herself.”
His to Conquer (Alien Masters Book 3) Page 8