“Remus.”
“I tripped is all.” He grasped her hands and turned them palms up. They were scraped, which explained the sting, but they weren’t bleeding. “See. I’ll clean them up, and they’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” He frowned with uncertainty gleaming in his violet eyes. “I haven’t seen you before.” She’d remember those eyes.
“I am one of Primaria’s elite guards.”
“And you’re stuck here guarding me.” She felt bad he’d drawn such a crappy assignment and repeated, “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It is an honor to see to your protection when the general cannot.”
“But I’m accused of—”
“I heard about what happened from Tarus, my brother.”
He was the warrior nearly sucked into the volcanic crater with her. “How is he doing?”
“Recovered and back to his duties. He said he almost died and you helped save him. He didn’t believe for a minute you’d have been foolish enough to linger at the blast site if you’d set the charges. We’ll get to the bottom of this and clear your name.”
Two people believed her, at least. Three counting Beck. She wasn’t sure Trask was convinced; she’d destroyed his trust. Still, she found the guard’s reassurances comforting. She nodded and started for the house, but after a step, stopped and looked up at him again. “Remus, may I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
“When the bonded mates aren’t fated, is love guaranteed?”
“No. Only fated mates are assured that emotion. But it often grows between those with strong matches.”
“And is anything ensured with weak ones?”
“Usually not. That’s why we have the database and strive for the strongest pairing possible.”
“Are weak matches destined for misery?”
“No, Trask’s mate.”
“Please, call me Lana.”
“Even weak matches are assured of a bond, Lana, as long as the pair is deemed compatible. It is the Primarian way, and contentment inevitably follows.”
“Contentment,” she echoed his word dully. “Well, doesn’t that sound grand.” She also muttered under her breath, “I could get the same thing from my battery-operated PPD.”
“Pardon?”
Oops. She hadn’t meant for him to hear the last bit. When she saw his confusion, she felt assured he didn’t know PPD stood for personal pleasure device. “It’s nothing,” she replied, waving it off. “I appreciate your time and your candor.”
“You’re welcome, Lana. But if I can be frank another moment, I’d like to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“The general has been more pleasant to be around since you came back. I heard him laugh this morning.”
“He didn’t when I was away?”
“Quite the opposite. I won’t go into detail, but it made for long days and extremely difficult training sessions. On behalf of the warriors under his command, we are grateful you’re back. These last few days, the look on his face and the snap in his stride speaks of much more than contentment.”
Because he’d had sex, lots of it. Still, she was encouraged.
“He might grind my bones to dust for saying so, but I have served with him closely for years, and I know him well.”
She smiled, much relieved. “Your mate must be more than content with you, Remus. You are very kind.”
“I’m not matched yet. I thought to try with one of your females, but another warrior snatched her up before I could make it happen.”
“How is that possible? I thought you went by testing.”
“Yes, but Maggie and her mate skipped a few steps.”
“Ah, you lost out to the commander.” She shook her head, sad for the handsome young warrior. “They are fated. You have to know you didn’t stand a chance; destiny conspired against you.”
“I do now. She didn’t at the time, but Roth made it clear to me, to both of us. It was most peculiar how it happened.”
“I heard their courtship was, um...unconventional.” Her captain and the commander’s connection was so strong they bonded through oral sex. But she didn’t transform until she admitted her love for him—something unheard of between Primarian couples. But as everyone kept saying, human-Primarian mate-bonding was full of surprises. “If fate, has a hand in all of this, Maggie wasn’t meant for you and another is out there waiting. Isn’t that what you believe?”
“It is. Who is meant to be together is fate, as part of the Maker’s design.”
“I wish I had as much faith as you do.”
“You will in time, Lana. All who come to Primaria see His hand in one way or another.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
Nodding, she turned to the house one final time and within a few steps, promptly tripped again.
This time, Remus was there to catch her.
“I’ll call a mason to have this fixed right away.”
She glanced behind her at a flagstone sticking up above the others, no more than a half inch, but enough to catch the toe of her shoe. “My thanks,” she told him with an embarrassed smile. “Because it seems to be a magnet for my feet.”
Once inside, she made a conscious effort not to look at the empty places where her pots with trees and plants used to be, and went upstairs to their room to think and, with a headache building behind her eyes, perhaps nap it away.
AFTER AN HOUR OF TRYING, sleep wouldn’t come. She just couldn’t shut down her brain. So, she paced, but this time did it with a purpose—solving the puzzle of the bewildering hodgepodge of padded slats, boards, and pulleys in the corner of their bedroom that had bugged her for a year. Evidently, the thing was standard issue for every adult Primarian male. During their visits on Terra Nova, the topic had come up, and Eva and Eryn had gushed and giggled over it, declaring hands down it was the greatest invention of the modern era.
She eyed the strange device skeptically. That it was a mind-blowing sexual aid, not the clothing rack she’d always assumed, boggled her mind.
“Okay, mate’s helper,” she muttered. “How do you work?”
With her bare foot, she gave the sturdy base a nudge. It did nothing, not that she’d expected it to. She’d already searched it on all sides and couldn’t find a switch or controls to activate it. There was no electrical plug or battery pack, but it had to be powered by something.
“Maybe it’s voice activated.” She cleared her throat and gave it a try. “Mate’s helper, turn on.”
She giggled, thinking if any command got it going, that would. Except it sat there like the inanimate object it was. No noise indicating it was powering up, nothing beeped or buzzed, and no lights flashed. Trying anything, she clapped her hands twice. Still no response. Then, like a goofball, and because nothing else had worked, she waved her hands over it with a flourish and said the magic words. “Abracadabra!”
Naturally, it didn’t respond. Glaring at it, she muttered, “Stupid thing. Eryn went on and on about it, bordering on information overload when she described her favorite position two, her favorite with Ram—” Abruptly, she stopped, eyeing the stubborn machine. “Can it be that simple?”
“Mate’s helper position two.”
It hummed to life, but nothing else.
Getting closer, she tapped her finger against her lips while she tried to figure out what else might work. She’d had a toy as a child that didn’t activate until she stepped on the foot pedals. This thing had two, low near the floor.
“I guess it’s worth a try,” she muttered, frustration and boredom making her determined to figure the damn thing out. “It’s not like my afternoon schedule is booked or anything.”
Facing it, she put her foot on the right pedal. When it hummed louder, she shifted her weight and tentatively set her left foot on the other. As she stood inches off the floor on the end of the convoluted device, it started to move. Lana grabbed hold of the tw
o handles which appeared out of nowhere, her fingers sliding like they were made for her into the preformed grooves. She held on tight as slats shifted, boards angled up and back, and the pedals she stood on spread farther apart. While all this was going on, she prepared to ditch the whole idea and jump off the crazy thing.
In front of her, a thickly padded board moved into place vertical and parallel to her body then the whole thing shifted forward until she was facing the floor. With her arms in front of her, knees bent, and her ass in the air, she was positioned on all fours. It wasn’t uncomfortable but quite bizarre, and she couldn’t keep from giggling.
Unquestionably, this was something Trask would enjoy. She pictured him naked, standing between her spread legs, thrusting into her from behind. With her ass at the perfect height for him, she imagined he’d find the position useful for other things, like the sensual punishments her friends had mentioned.
Tingling in several places, she felt herself becoming damp between her thighs. She closed her eyes and fantasized about Trask on his knees, using his magical tongue to make her wetter. And her naughty daydream didn’t stop there; her mate slid his long fingers inside her while he swatted her bare backside. In between sensual spanks, he’d rub away the sting, massaging her ass with his big hands while he dove back in face first and greedily feasted on her pussy.
Her hips moved restlessly, and she blushed although no one was around to see her or guess where her naughty mind had gone. Growing more daring, as the heat and ache between her thighs built, she whispered, “Let’s see what else this baby can do. Mate’s helper, position...” Since she didn’t have a clue what any of them were, other than two, she picked a number at random. “Nine.”
Instantly, the device whirred and twisted, taking her along with it. She wasn’t sure where she would end up, but when the handles stretched over her head and the unit stood her upright and then paused—basically, back where she had started—she had to be honest that she was disappointed.
“Is that it?” she muttered, but an instant later, when straps shot out and encircled her wrists, she regretted her words. It happened fast like they were spring-loaded, and she didn’t have a chance to react. While she tugged at them helplessly, a whish, whish, whish sounded, and something snug wrapped around her waist and surrounded both ankles. She tried to twist and see her feet, but her body was stretched too tautly, held firm by the additional straps coiled around her ankles—since she couldn’t see, she assumed they were the same as on her wrists—and a band, like a wide belt, around her waist.
Before she could blink, curse, or scream for help, the thing spun her vertically, heels over head, feet to the ceiling, hair brushing the floor, wrong-side up! To make matters worse, not that they weren’t bad enough strung up to a contraption that seemed to have a mind of its own, her skirt slid down over her face, obscuring her vision.
There she was, hanging upside down with her hands bound, legs spread wide apart, ankles pinned to boards, and, since she was pantyless—like all Primarian women were under their dresses—her ass was bared and pussy exposed. And, she’d left the door open.
Holy Crap!
Anyone could walk in. One of the guards, how mortifying! Or worse, Adria—she’d never live it down. And, Trask, heaven forbid, would know in a glance she’d been enjoying what she’d been up to.
“Mate’s helper, go back!” she called. Nothing.
“Home,” she tried, but got not so much as a twitch.
“I want off this crazy ride, dammit!”
It didn’t respond to her panicked commands. Instead, she heard a sound. Not the humming or whirring like before, but a buzzing somewhere above her head. Or more accurately, in the position, she was in, below her waist.
She jumped when something cold and smooth touched her sex. “Oh my God!” she squealed not even a second later. It was vibrating.
It stroked lightly over the outer folds of her pussy. Although she was freaked out and tense, it felt good, especially when it started to buzz faster and pressed inward, parting her slit right over her clit. With her face covered, and since no one was around, she closed her eyes and groaned.
The vibrations sped up, and her body tensed as pleasure arced in waves from her center up through her belly, and outward to her toes, fingers, and to the top of her head. Everything that protruded either tingled or stood on end—hair, nose, nipples, and her skin which broke out in goose bumps.
“Holy fuck!” she moaned.
Her battery-operated PPD had nothing on the mate’s helper which was supercharged. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the thing cranked up another degree, and her body jerked as an orgasm crashed over her in overlapping waves.
When it didn’t stop and let her catch her breath, Lana tried to twist away, but the band around her waist and the four-point restraints wouldn’t allow her to. It pressed onward, ceaselessly buzzing away at her sensitive nub.
“No,” she groaned, completely weirded out by being relentlessly and expertly dominated by a machine.
When would it stop? Or maybe, she had to tell it to.
“Mate’s helper, off,” she gasped.
But naturally, the damn thing kept right on going.
“Stop!” she pleaded between panting breaths as another climax built. Next, she repeated, “Position two!” hoping the command would send it back to the previous nonthreatening position.
It didn’t respond. In fact, she felt something else glide over her bottom. When it slid along the cleft and delved between her cheeks, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what it intended next. Thanks to her inquisitive nature, she was about to get a genuine, honest-to-God alien probe!
This one was not only cold, but wet—how convenient the helper comes pre-lubed. And since it was slippery, it got right down to business, aligning with her tightly clenched hole in back.
When it started to press inward, she whimpered. This was not how she wanted to lose her anal virginity. She bucked, arching away while pulling at her restraints.
Her struggles got a reaction, but not the one she wanted. Instead of relenting, the sadistic device became more determined. The band at her waist tightened, as did the bindings holding her ankles. The unit made other adjustments to compensate for its uncooperative rider, and moved all four limbs farther apart until her body was stretched to her limit like on a medieval rack, but in the shape of an X.
“Please stop,” she begged frantically as the shaft pressed relentlessly forward. She yelped as the tip slid inward; it felt huge.
“Lana?”
She froze, straining to hear. Bad move, this allowed the probe to push past her sphincter. It entered with a pop.
But Trask was home. Thank God! And not a moment too soon because the damn thing in her ass also started buzzing!
“Help!” she called half wail, half groan.
“Where are you?”
“Bedroom. Hurry!”
With both vibrators humming away, the one in the back started to pump, going a fraction deeper with each glide. She broke out in a sweat as—incredibly—a third orgasm began to build. “Oh my God!” she squealed, unable to do anything but hang there and take it.
“Lana? What the hell?”
“Trask, please, make it stop!”
“Mate’s helper, reset!” he barked.
Immediately, the buzzing stopped, and the probe—with another pop from it and a shriek from her—retreated. Her torture session over, she went limp.
The unit spun her around the next moment, and she was upright, her hair in her face. Gentle hands brushed it back from her forehead and cheeks which left her staring at her rescuer, his eyes were wide with shock.
“Thank heavens you came.”
He blinked and a moment later his lips twitched, which was about the time she realized what she’d said. Unable to retract her words, she felt heat rush into her already-flushed face until her skin felt scalded. Her heart raced, and her skin was damp, but not entirely from embarrassment or from stand
ing on her head the last ten or twenty minutes.
“Are you sure, paulova? Because you look like I interrupted before you did.”
When she scowled, he burst into laughter, which made her scowl more.
“Very funny,” she muttered, though it was drowned out by his low, rich, uninhibited laugh. He might have stopped her wild mechanical sex ride, but the restraints still had her immobilized. “Go on, get it out of your system, but can you hurry? I’d like to be set free.”
But he didn’t need her permission, and he was too far gone as it was, doubled over, belly laughing with tears streaming down his face.
“Trask!”
He ignored her pleas as much as the damn machine had. She tried the words he’d used, “Mate’s helper, reset.” When that didn’t set her free, she cried in frustration, “Release me!”
It started buzzing and whirring at the same time Trask shouted, “No! Helper, end session.”
As suddenly as they’d begun again, all the pulleys stopped pulling, and the buzzers stopped buzzing, and the restraints slid back into their mysterious concealed slots.
Free at last, she fell forward on rubbery legs, right into his arms.
Still chuckling, he buried his face in her neck. “Lana, if you wanted to play, you had only to ask.”
She shoved at his shoulder. “I thought you were a general, not a comedian.” Though she tried to stop it, tears stung her eyes.
“Aw, sweet mate, don’t cry. I was teasing.”
“And I was scared, bound, and...and...” She wriggled to get free. “I don’t want to talk about it ever again.”
He refused to let her go, pulling her close, just as, to her frustration, she burst into tears.
“Aw, baby, there now. I’m sorry for laughing.”
Her head came up, and she gaped at him.
“What’s wrong now?”
“You’ve never called me that before.”
“What?”
“Baby.”
“Is it wrong?”
“No. It’s human.”
He brushed her damp cheek with the edge of his thumb. “I’ve been around your kind for a year now; I guess I picked it up along with some of those vulgar terms you don’t like. It seemed appropriate for the situation. I won’t call you it again if it bothers you.”
Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4) Page 31