by Renee Rose
“But she saved his life? Does that count for nothing?”
Seke made a grumbling sound. “The Zandians are an honorable species. It counts for everything. But our prince’s continued safety is paramount to all else, even love. If you care for your daughter’s happiness, you will convince her to speak the truth.”
The warrior stopped in front of a door and pressed his palm to the screen there. The door slid open and her heart skipped a beat.
“Lamira!” she cried and ran to her daughter.
~.~
Zander stalked down the corridor and replayed the interview with Leora in his mind. One thing she said struck him as odd.
There is nothing special about my daughter.
Was it a human turn of phrase? Something he did not quite understand? Or did it mean there was, in fact, something special about Lamira? If so, what? In what way would she be different?
Different.
His skin crawled as a realization struck him.
Human slaves had been bred by the Ocretions for certain qualities. Docility, obedience, physical strength. Those who were found to be too intelligent, too resistant, too special were eliminated.
Is that what Leora had meant? Did her daughter carry special traits? Perhaps that was why Daneth’s program chose her as his perfect mate. Perhaps the system had picked her, not because of some human trait, but because she had some superhuman trait. Something special. And she kept it hidden because her life depended on it. Lamira’s defiance had surprised him. Did she carry other aberrant traits?
For the first time in ten planet rotations, the heaviness surrounding him lifted. He changed direction and walked briskly toward Daneth’s lab.
“My lord, how did you find the new slave?”
“Her name is Leora.”
Daneth took the correction in a stride. “Of course, my lord.”
“Daneth, it occurred to me perhaps your program selected Lamira for me because there is something special about her genes.”
“Certainly,” Daneth said, as if he, too, had considered the possibility. “Her father’s warrior genes would be considered out of range. If her relation to him had been known, she would have been killed.”
“What if there was something else? Some special sensitivity, perhaps? An ability to predict the future? Or know things she hadn’t seen?”
Understanding dawned on Daneth’s expression. “A psychic ability, you mean?” He stroked his chin. “Some humans once possessed such gifts, it’s possible for a recessive trait to resurface.” He flicked on a holograph which projected an image of genes into the space before them. “I don’t know how to search for such a gene. I would think if it was known, the Ocretions would have already found it and killed her at birth.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Show brain scan.”
An image of her brain floated in the space between them.
“Compare with normal human brain activity.”
An area of Lamira’s brain lit up with a purple hue. “Above average activity noted,” the program reported in a clipped, female voice.
“What is this area of the human brain used for?”
“Unknown.”
Daneth rotated the brain image in a circle. “Show brain image of a Venusian.”
The Venusians were a humanoid species with extra-large eyes and many extrasensory abilities including telepathy and energetic healing.
The Venusian brain hologram popped up. Daneth spun it around and enlarged the area that had more activity than normal in Lamira’s scan. The physician’s lips stretched into a grin. “Look how much this area is used.” He pointed at the normal human brain scan. “Here, it is not used at all, like most of their brain mass. You were right—she has extrasensory receptor activity.” His voice rose in pitch with excitement. “It makes perfect sense to breed with a female with these abilities. Think of the increased power of your offspring!”
He didn’t care about his offspring at that moment. All he cared about was reclaiming Lamira.
“Thank you, Daneth. This is what I needed to know.”
~.~
Lamira sat on her luxurious sleeping platform, holding both her mother’s hands, still weeping with joy.
“But tell me about this prince—you are his prisoner, but he grieves your loss.”
She blinked her wet lashes. “He does? How do you know?”
“I sensed it in him. He loves you. Even his warrior agreed.”
“Master Seke?”
Was her mother actually blushing at the mention of the master at arms? Well, Seke was an incredible specimen of masculinity, even if he was old enough to be her father.
“But, Mother, he believes he cannot trust me.”
“I know—he told me the same thing. Lamira...can you trust him?”
She hesitated. Her mother’s familiar and loving face made her chest nearly explode with joy.
“He knew about your father. He knew we are part of the resistance movement, yet we both still live.”
Lamira gaped in surprise. He knew? She shook her head. “Did he say why he bought you?”
Her mother shook her head. Mother Earth, which Zandian male would she be given to? Did they believe she was still of breeding age?
“Do you know why he bought me?”
“Tell me.”
“For breeding. Daneth—his doctor—ran a program and it chose me as his best possible mate to bear children.” She waited for the shock to appear on her mother’s face. All those solar cycles her mother had worked to protect her from exactly this fate.
But her mother only touched a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Why, do you think?”
She could not think. Her emotions were running in too many directions and her brain had overheated into a melted blob of confusion.
“I cannot see him giving the mother of his children up to the Ocretion slaughter block.”
“But I haven’t given him children,” she wailed. “And now I won’t.”
“What I’m saying is perhaps he can be trusted with the truth of your gifts.”
“They aren’t gifts,” she started to protest, but then remembered the whispering from the crystals.
He needs you. Pay attention to all knowing.
Perhaps they were gifts. To him, anyway. Her knowing had already saved his life, after all.
“You should tell him.”
“He probably won’t believe me, anyway. They don’t understand sarcasm, and he’s convinced humans lie about everything.” She caught her mother’s hand. “Wait. You know telling him may risk your life, as well.”
Her mother gave her a tight smile. “I know.” She squeezed her hand.
~.~
Zander paced the length of his chamber. He’d sent for Lamira and now his body hungered for her, just at the thought of having her near him again.
A tap sounded at the door. The image of Lamira standing outside with a guard, wrists bound behind her back popped up as a hologram above the door.
“Enter.”
The guard walked in with her, but he dismissed him with a wave. “Leave her.”
Lamira’s chin was held high, defiance blazed across her delicate features. He remembered that look from the day she first arrived on his pod. She marched over to him and spat in his face.
Her attack came unexpected, so he registered only surprise, rather than anger.
“My mother will not be your sex slave!”
It was so absurd, he wanted to laugh—and she was adorable angry like this. But he didn’t show amusement. Instead, he scooped her up by the waist and carried her to his sleepdisk, where he sat on the edge and draped her across his lap.
He spanked her with his hand, hard and fast. “I have no intention of using your mother as a sex slave,” he made clear. “She is my guest—a boon I purchased for you after I gave you that undeserved whipping.”
Lamira didn’t answer, probably too caught up in wriggling under his punishing slaps.
He’d forgotten how satisfying it fe
lt to spank her. Everything about it lit his senses on fire—the feel of her soft, supple form across his knees, the sight of her perfect little ass bouncing beneath his hand, the gasps she made each time his palm made contact. He could question her about her psychic abilities later, after her spanking. And breeding.
His wrist cuff was still programmed to monitor her arousal rate, and the numbers flashed rapidly.
Twenty percent aroused. Thirty. Thirty-five. Forty.
She liked her spankings as much as he did.
The only displeasing aspect of the situation was her clothing. He lifted her to stand between his knees and yanked down her leggings and panties. “Why are you wearing clothing? What is the rule when you enter my chamber?”
Fifty percent aroused.
Realizing he couldn’t remove her shirt with her wrists bound behind her back, he grasped it with two hands at the neckline and rent the fabric down the middle, tearing it from her body.
Lamira gasped and wobbled on trembling legs. Her cheeks flushed pink with emotion, and confusion played across her face.
Sixty percent aroused.
“You are only punished in the bare, Lamira. You shall never be allowed the protection of your clothing.”
Seventy percent aroused.
Her nipples stood out in stiff peaks.
He pulled her back over his knee and resumed the spanking, delighting in the contact of flesh on flesh, the crack of his palm against her bare skin, the scent of her arousal. He loved the way she squirmed over his lap, her hip rubbing his throbbing cock.
Eighty-five percent aroused.
Stars, he loved this. He loved that she grew excited when he took her in hand. He loved the heady sense of power punishing her gave him. And, yes, he loved her. He loved her. No matter what her secret, they’d work it out.
Her skin turned pink under his continued onslaught. He wondered if she could orgasm from a spanking alone. Not that it was allowed.
When he heard a sniff, he suddenly realized her back was shaking with sobs. He froze.
Oh veck. Had he spanked her too hard? He didn’t think he had used more force than normal. He released her wrist cuffs.
“Lamira,” he croaked, spinning her up to cradle in his arms, the way she liked it.
Her face dripped with tears, eyes red. She tucked her head against his neck, where he couldn’t see her eyes.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, still pressed against his neck, and wept in ragged, heart-wrenching sobs. Her arousal rate had dropped back down to thirty percent.
He stroked her back and held her tight, rocking slightly. “Does it hurt too much? Should I call Daneth?”
“No,” she croaked immediately.
“What do you need?”
“You!”
He stilled once more, drawing in a shocked breath. His heart beat erratically.
This was the wildness she inspired in him. A starstorm of emotions, needs, and desires.
“I’ve missed you, too, little human.” He buried his face in her hair, rubbing his horns through the silky strands, breathing her in. She smelled both sweet and sensual, the fresh lime-citrus of her soap blending with her natural feminine musk.
He loved her.
He stood and walked on his knees up the sleeping platform, settling with his back against the wall, and his little human cradled in his lap. “I can’t live without you—I don’t want to. I need you here, in my chamber, between my sheets.”
“I’ll tell you,” she sobbed. “I’ll tell you everything. I promise. You may not believe me, but I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
He caressed her nape, pried her head from his shoulder to see her wet face. Using both thumbs, he mopped her tears. “Tell me,” he murmured. “I’ll believe you.”
She hiccupped, trying to regain her breath. Her hand came up to cover her face from his view, but he caught her wrist. “Don’t hide from me. No more lies, little slave. I want all of you—your honest truth. You’re mine. Even your tears are mine.”
She drew in a long, terraced breath and dashed her tears with the back of her hand. “Thank you”—she sniffed and gave a laughing sob at her own tears—“for my mother. Thank you so much.”
He pulled her in and kissed her forehead. “You’re welcome.”
She leaned her forehead against his, looping one hand behind his neck and stroking her delicate fingers lightly over the skin there.
His body prickled with heat.
“Sometimes…” She drew in another shuddering breath. “Sometimes, I know things. About people. Not usually about the future.”
“You’re psychic.”
Her eyes locked on his, startled. “Yes. Claircognizant. I know things I shouldn’t. But since I’ve come here, it’s been more—now I see things and hear things, too. I think it’s your crystals—they’ve amplified the trait. You believe me?”
He traced her eyebrow, caressed her temple with the pad of his thumb. “I believe you. Your mother said something earlier today that led me to have Daneth examine your brain activity. He compared it to the Venusian brain and there were similarities.”
“Do you think I have Venusian blood?
“Daneth could probably test it to find out.”
“So…” She held his favorite expression—the pleading one, with her green eyes wide. “Am I forgiven?”
He adjusted her, pulling one of her legs around so she straddled him. Her hot core pressed against his cock through his trousers, dampening them. Palming her luscious ass, he squeezed it and rocked her into him.
“I’m sorry—” His voice sounded rough—whether it was from lust or regret, he wasn’t sure. “For so many things. For the times I hurt you. For—”
“No.” She touched his face, stopping him. “You’re a prince—the leader of your species. You were right to be cautious. Zander…”
She nibbled her bottom lip, making him want to claim her mouth, to suck that lip between his, to taste her.
“I’ve seen something...about us.” Her gaze was intent, as if measuring whether she could tell him or not.
“Tell me. From now on, you will tell me everything. No more secrets. No, wait. I understand why you were afraid to tell me, but I will never turn you in to the Ocretions. I will not let anyone touch you—ever. You belong to me, and I protect what’s mine. Understand?”
~.~
Warmth coiled in her chest, swirled up her neck. She tugged Zander’s lips down to hers, attacking him, showing him how much his words affected her. He kissed her back, grasping her head and holding her still as he took over. His tongue licked between her lips, and he claimed what belonged to him.
He pushed her down to her back, crawling over her. “Tell me.” His voice sounded gruff, but his eyes shone with affection. He pinned her wrists beside her head. “Now, little slave.”
“I saw our baby.”
His face went slack, eyes full of wonder.
Her vision blurred.
“When? I mean—”
She laughed. “I don’t know. But he was perfect.”
“He?” Zander’s lips stretched into the widest smile she’d ever seen him wear. His teeth gleamed straight and white against his purple-hued skin.
She nodded. Her chest felt so full, she thought it would explode.
He nudged her knees apart and shoved down his pants, freeing his cock. “Then I guess we’d better keep breeding, so we can meet him soon.”
She reached for his cock and guided him to her dripping entrance. He filled her, stretching her wide and making her gasp. After ten planet rotations without sex, she felt virginally small for his large size, despite the ample lubricant.
“Take me,” he commanded, his eyes glittering with amusement. He knew, from the cuff on his arm, what his bossy commands did to her.
She arched and offered herself up to him, his for the taking. She craved his touch in every way—not only the tender caresses he’d just offered, but also this—the
rough way he handled her, demanding so much yet never going too far.
He pistoned in and out of her, shoving deep on each instroke. “I missed you, naughty slave.”
“I’m a good slave,” she protested, giving herself over to the force of his instrokes, which rocked her up at least six inches every time.
“You spat in my face.”
Oh yeah. She’d forgotten that part.
“I think, when I’m finished filling you with my seed, I will take your ass. You deserve a long, hard ass-vecking, don’t you?”
Her head wobbled, somewhere between a nod and a shake. While she found anal sex terrifying, it had also been incredibly satisfying—the intensity equaling the pleasure.
Zander pulled out. “On your knees, hands behind your back.” He shoved her torso down into the sleepdisk and lifted her hips high. She heard the click of her wrist cuffs fastening behind her legs.
She loved this position. There was something so...objectifying about it. It lifted and presented her sex and anus to him and left her face completely out of his sight.
He gripped her hips and slid into her again, resuming the hard pounding he’d been giving her. His breath grew ragged.
Her pussy gripped his cock in ecstasy.
“Come, slave.”
He shoved in deep and stayed, filling her with hot streams of his cum while her pussy spasmed around his length, squeezing and milking his cock for its seed.
Despite his threat to take her ass afterward, he collapsed on top of her, releasing her wrists and laying her out on her belly. His strong arms wrapped around her from behind and he rolled them to their sides. He brushed kisses across the skin at her neck.
“I’m going to have this removed.” He rubbed his thumb over the barcode tattooed at the base of her neck. “I want to make my own mark on you, Lamira.”
She rolled in his arms to face him. “How?”
He leaned up on one elbow. “Would you wear my crystals?”
The fact he asked her, rather than dictated, meant something—though she wasn’t sure what. “Does that mean you would pierce me?”