by Aubrey Cara
Hannah frowns like she will argue with me, but instead tentatively asks, “May I have blankets?”
“Of course.” She may have anything she wishes. “I will kill the largest beast myself, if that is what you want.”
Her shoulders slump, and she softens. She emits conflicting emotions. I wish to stroke her cheek when she is like this, but I fist my hands to keep from reaching out. I have touched her enough for this cycle.
“I need things to be different,” she says.
I had turned to leave but halt at her words.
“I need a job. Or a daily task. I need to be outside every day.” Her words come out in a rush, as if afraid I’ll cut her off. “Not just a few feet in front of the shuttle, but all the way outside. I’m good at growing things and making things with my hands. I could garden so we have something other than meat to eat. I’m so sick of meat. I could collect grass to make baskets…”
I can scent the longing in her words and kick myself for not seeing to this before now. I look around the cramped shuttle. She cannot spend her days here. We’ve been treating her no better than the Zapex did, keeping her caged.
“Please,” she begs.
I turn, nodding. “I will speak with Jual. You may spend your days outside.”
Her eyes mist over, and she bounces on her toes with her pleasure. “Thank you, Situs.” She fists her hands in front of her, and I imagine her tossing her arms around me as I have seen Cal and Kein’s mate do to them. But that is not to be for us.
“We would do anything for you, little mate. You have but to ask.” I step to the hatch and scoop the dead yhgl off the floor, reminding me of her wandering ways. I point it at her. “We will do anything for you, but if you ever put yourself in danger again, you will receive the type of spanking that will make it uncomfortable to sit for the next three cycles.”
Hannah nods vehemently, her hands cover her bottom as if that will somehow protect her. I stride out the hatch.
Jual approaches as I am exiting, and I fight the urge to punch my mating partner in the face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JUAL
Situs’s countenance is foreboding as he storms past me. Worried he has upset our mate, I quicken my step to the shuttle. Hannah stands inside the doorway, her eyes red rimmed but a smile playing on her lips. I feel an answering grin tug at mine.
Then I smell it.
I stop in the doorway as if I hit a wall.
The heady smell of her arousal hangs heavy in the air. And also blood. I take in her appearance. Her hair is a messy tangle, her clothes dirty, her makeshift skirt torn. Bloody scratches mar her hands and legs.
“I’m going to spend my days outside,” she says by way of greeting.
I nod toward her scratches. “It appears as if you have already been outside, and it did not go well.”
Her cheeks pinken, and she fidgets. “I went out on my own.”
That explains Situs’s displeasure. I am surprised she would put herself in such danger.
“Are you mad at me?” she asks in a small voice. She is worried. “Situs already punished me for it.”
“Did he?” The day is turning out to be full of surprises.
She nods, swallowing nervously, and flushes some more. “Mmhmm.”
“What else did Situs do?” Surely a mere punishment did not cause her mating instinct to waken.
“Th-that’s it,” she stutters, and I wonder why she lies. Her heartbeat accelerates. She wrings her hands in front of her. “He was upset you didn’t mark me.”
“I am sure he was.” He would much rather I suffer the agony of spilling my essence on her, so close to where I want to be buried.
It has become nearly painful not to touch her. Not to hold her down and rut until I spill inside her. I spend my days fantasizing about how her heat will feel wrapped around my cock. In the mornings, her skirt is wedged up around her waist, and I imagine taking her like that. Drowsy and mussed from sleep. Her body pliant and welcoming instead of stiff and nervous.
I do not know what caused her arousal, but it twists my gut it was not me.
“Jual? Are you listening to me?”
She has been babbling, but her words barely registered.
Ignoring her question, I ask, “How did Situs punish you, little mate?”
“Oh…well…” She takes a tentative step back, shifting from foot to foot. “He spanked me.” She brings a hand to her bottom, and I wonder if she is remembering the chastisement. “Then he whipped me with a switch,” she admits in a small voice.
“Did it hurt?”
Her eyes widen, and she gives an emphatic nod, the smell of her fresh arousal weaving around me.
My heart lurches, and my cybernetics work to even it. “Show me.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, her delicate winged brows pulled down in confusion.
“Turn around and show me your bottom.”
She hesitates, and I wonder if she will comply. Myriad conflicting emotions pour off her as she turns, but she does not move to raise or remove her skirt.
In two strides, I am there, ripping her garment at the waist so it falls to her feet.
She cries out and moves to flee, but I grasp her arm, jerking her back into place. My eyes never leave the red stripes across her ass, a strident contrast to her pale skin. My cock throbs at the sight.
It appears Situs marked her in a different way.
I move my fingers over the slightly swollen lines, and she whimpers. But the emotions rolling off her give her away. There is pain and fear, but sharp and poignant is her desire. Taking a breath, I push down on one of the welted lines. She gives a cry, but pain and pleasure roll off her.
I jerk my hand away.
My mind races with questions. Desires of my own. I want to bend her over and see if she is wet with her need. I still remember the way arousal smeared her thighs and she begged for release when we escaped. Although she was drugged, I harbor a hope she will naturally be that greatly in want of us one day.
Could her body be ready to be properly claimed?
“Jual, you’re scaring me.” Her voice is the barest of whispers, as if she struggles with the words, but I hear her.
I scrub my free hand over my face, willing my mind to clear of lust. “You should sanitize yourself in the bak, before your cuts get infected.” I manage to choke out the words, but it’s another moment before I can force my grip open and let her go.
The door to the cleansing booth opens, but she turns before going in. “Will you still be here when I get out?”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
She looks down at my erection and back to my face. “I’m still not ready.”
“Your body is,” I grit out.
She wads the loose material of her shirt in front of her, turning her flushed face away, and awkwardly half crosses her legs.
“You cannot hide your need from me. Your mating instinct has awakened. I can smell it.” I stalk closer. “If I opened your legs and lifted that shirt, I would see it.”
Her rosy cheeks go pale. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready…for you…to-to…”
I shake my head. “No, obviously not. But it does mean you are in need.” I pull my shirt up over my head and then take off my boots one by one before stripping my pants off.
“Jual, what are you doing?”
Completely naked, I stalk to her. “I am tending to my mate.” She backs into the bak, and I follow. Hitting the panel, the door swishes closed behind me.
I crowd into her space, my hands braced on the wall on either side of her head. The sanitation cycle has begun. She’s closed her sensitive human eyes against the spray, but I keep mine open, enjoying how the shirt she wears is now plastered against her skin.
Slowly, I skim the material up, and she valiantly tries to push it down.
“Please, no, Jual,” she cries.
I fist a hand lightly in her hair, and growl at her ear, “Settle. I will not hurt you or take what
you do not freely give.” No matter how much my body demands it. “Do you understand?”
She nods, releasing her hold on the material. The second the shirt is off, her hands come up to cover herself as the nhu oil cycle begins, the pleasing aroma mingling with the tantalizing scent of her still-present arousal.
Taking her hand, I move it between her legs, molding her fingers to her mound. “Touch yourself.”
She shakes her head. I press her digits into her wet heat until her head falls back on a low moan. “You are in need, mate. If you do not want me to touch you…pleasure yourself,” I gruffly demand, moving her fingers until she takes over. I have directed her to touch her cunt, but never forced her to pleasure herself, and long to see her face as she crests.
The drying cycle buffets against us, but it does not drown out the sound of her needy little whimpers and pants of breath, or the squelching sound of her cunt as her fingers move through her slickness.
I want to suck her beaded nipples, cover her mouth with mine and capture her moans, but I force myself not to touch her, not wanting to break the spell.
Her body seizes, her mouth opening on a soundless cry and her eyes spring open and meet mine as she finds her release.
I cup her beautiful face, and take her hand, still warm and sticky from her cunt, and wrap it around my cock, pumping my length against her. I run my thumb over her lips still open after her completing, and dip it inside. Her mouth closes on the digit. A groan is dragged from my throat when she lightly sucks.
“I want your mouth on me, geliebte,” I tell her, moving in her grip. “I want to rut you then have you take me between your soft lips so you may taste yourself on me.”
Her breath hitches, and her fist on me tightens. Her gaze shoots down between us at my cock in her hand, like she is contemplating doing just that. My sac draws up tight at her curious gaze, her cheeks flushed, her plump lips slightly open on a moan.
My thighs tremble as I thrust into her hand.
“You like that idea, my little mate?” I growl. “Putting your mouth on me? Tasting me, as I have tasted you?”
With big eyes, she stares up at me in surprise. I have never spoke to her so bluntly. I can feel her shock, but also her lust.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “I would wake you with my face buried in your cunt every morning, if you’ll let me.”
Her head falls back, her eyes rolling closed like I am already there, sipping and sucking at her sweet nectar, and a tremor goes through her body. That quiver has my essence jetting out, up over her belly and breasts in painful pulls. I groan my release, and she pumps me until my legs threaten to give out. My internal sensors work to calm my heart rate and even my breaths.
“Enough.” I still her hand, though I am not sated. I will not be until I properly rut my reluctant mate.
“I don’t think you should mark me anymore.” Her voice is a whisper, her face resting on my chest, but the words echo loudly in my head.
“You lie.” My jaw clenches in frustration. I do not understand human logic, and it is impossible to follow the ever-changing tide of her emotions. Where there was lust, she now radiates anxiety and confusion.
In truth, I probably no longer need to mark her, but I love smearing my essence on her. The way her mouth pops open slightly in surprise when I spill. A deeply ingrained need to have her carry my scent rides me, so mark her I shall.
“No, it’s too much.” She shakes her head, pulling away from me, but this is her fear, not her true desire speaking.
Planting my hands on either side of the wall behind her, I cage her in. “We are mates. I will mark you and watch you pleasure yourself until you beg me to claim you truly, my geliebte.” Thinking about sinking into the welcoming heat between her thighs has essence dribbling from my cock. “Then I will rut you into exhaustion, again and again, until death takes me.”
How does she not understand this?
HANNAH
Jual’s intense crystal blue eyes cut into me. I am not ready for the need shining there. He called me geliebte, lover, and I hate how it affects me. How it makes me want. I feel a hot, sticky trail along my belly and I glance down and see he’s still hard between us.
My skin is tight, my stomach swims, yet a pulse throbs between my legs, achy and empty. Every movement rubs the slick lips of my sex together…
The things he said. What he wants from me... My mind stutters. I want to run and hide but there’s nowhere to go. Unless I’m locked in this shuttle, I’m never alone.
He reaches up a hand, and I flinch back out of old instinct. His face registers anguish at my move, and I quickly grab his hand, holding his palm to my cheek. He was trying to be tender, and I can use some tenderness.
My sore bottom still radiates heat out to my core in a confusing manner, I find as arousing as humiliating. And now Situs and Jual know my body responded to such punishment.
I rest my forehead on the center of his chest again so I don’t have to see how his watchful gaze as he tries to analyze me like a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.
“You did well,” he says quietly. His thumb grazes my cheek affectionately.
The air seizes in my chest, and my throat is suddenly tight, his approval having a profound effect on me.
“You are strong here.” He taps my temple. “I believe this, and I know much more than you.”
It’s so arrogant, yet true that is startles a laugh out of me, even as tears spill down my cheeks.
“We should get dressed,” he says catching me off guard. “We must tan the leather hides. If you are up to helping me, we have much work to do to prepare for when the hunters return.”
He gives my arm a reassuring gentle squeeze, and I wipe my tears away as the door to the bak swishes open and he walks away.
Everything that has transpired today, has thrown me off kilter. I will gladly delve into any labor that will get my fevered mind off the two men responsible for my throbbing bottom and this new terrible ache between my thighs.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HANNAH
A Month Later
“You’re amazing!” Allyson bounces enthusiastically with the stack of new furs and blankets I pile in her arms.
Standing just outside the hatch of my shuttle, I look around, noticing she’s alone. “Where are your men?” Going out alone was a mistake I only made once, and I have never seen Allyson out and about without her mates.
“They’re training, and I wasn’t in the mood to watch, so I stayed in the shuttle.” I don’t blame her. The men spar with each other daily, and it often results in bloody appendages and broken bones. “They don’t know I left.” The pretty blonde winks conspiratorially, and I feel a pang of jealousy at her happiness. She shares an easy and open affection with her mates I envy. I’ve stumbled upon her with Cal or Kein, having marital congress out in the open more than once.
It was nothing like the couplings I took part in during my marriage.
Thinking of Jual or Situs doing to me the things I’ve caught Allyson’s mates doing to her makes my face heat. It’s not difficult to imagine. Jual no longer marks me without telling me in lurid detail what he wishes to be doing to me, and I ache. I ache from lust but also a desire for the easy affection that seems to be right outside my reach.
Jonah took his husbandly rights in the dark. It was uncomfortable but over quickly. I did not feel much enjoyment, and my time on the Zapex’s ship is more a hazy memory.
My sexual understanding has been limited to unpleasant experiences. I believe it would be different with Jual. If I could get over my fear. Just thinking of him brings heat throbbing to life between my legs. My stomach knots, but I no longer break out in a cold sweat at the idea of lying with him. I know he will not push me for more than I’m willing to give, but I fear raising his hopes by suggesting we try.
As if he knows where my thoughts have wandered, Situs shoots me a feral look from across “our yard,” or the meadow in front of the shuttle site. I flush even mo
re, then his gaze quickly darts away like a scared rabbit. A scared rabbit with broad, stiff shoulders and a bad attitude.
Every day, he works on the leather, and every day I help, or work in my garden. Sometimes we work side by side in silence, and sometimes I chatter on about nothing and everything.
He’s never initiated a conversation with me, and he usually just grunts or offers monosyllabic replies, but I think he enjoys my company. I like to believe that, anyway. I’ve come to realize Situs is like a wild animal. I’ve been putting out scraps, and although he’s drawn closer, he still isn’t ready to let me pet him.
But still I remember his fierce spanking, followed by his exploring gentle touch. The way it ignited me. From the hungry looks he gives me, I don’t believe he’s as unaffected as he pretends to be.
I collect our tender moments like scraps of affection I’m starved for. I sense his eyes on me as I kneel in prayer every night asking God for forgiveness and guidance. I swear I can feel Situs’s attraction to me anytime he draws near, as well as his ever-present guilt. It’s like a wall he holds between us, even though I no longer see him as the man who hurt me. I haven’t for quite a while now. It’s hard to think I ever did. He’s Situs, my protector…my mate.
As strange as it may seem, I have come to see both men as my mates. My husbands. How can I not with all they do for me?
He goes back to hanging and stretching animal hides on a rack. I grimace looking at the large skin. We have some rather frightening wildlife on Kadeema. There’s a herding animal I call a wildebeest, but it’s so not. It’s a ginormous cross between a wooly mammoth and a saber-toothed tiger.
True to his word, he found a way he and Jual could watch me and ensure I could spend my days outside. They’ve been tanning hides when not taking turns sparring or helping to build the safety tunnels. And they’ve been helping me find root vegetables and plants we can eat. I’ve started my garden, and I hope it yields a decent-sized crop.