Chapter Three
Thorn permitted himself a small smile of satisfaction. Adara had done well in accepting the plug. There was no reason to waste the time on their journey to the farm. They would soon be taking that sweet ass, and she required careful preparation, obviously being an anal virgin. His cock clamored to be the first, harnessed behind the tight fabric of his pants while Adara’s little puffs of heated breath teased it as she slept. He could have tucked her into one of the other benches, all of them equipped with restraints and other devices to secure a sub for their pleasure, but couldn’t bear to be apart from her. The gentle weight of her head on his thighs soothed even as it aroused him. He expected her to feel space lagged and require periods of rest. He now believed they wouldn’t have to wait to take her, and the thought was thrilling.
Scanning first the horizon and then his instruments, he turned his gaze to the lovely length of her curvy body. She had shuffled onto her side in her sleep to face him, and one pert breast peeked from beneath her arm, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. Regrettably, her knees were bent and blocked the view of her fragrant cunt. Her orgasm had been gentle, and he was aware she’d tried to hide her response, but that would be the last time she would hide from him. Or his brothers. Sharing in her pleasure would crumble the walls she was trying to erect between them and keep them down. They would overwhelm her and take her heart and soul when she offered it, truly surrendering to them.
A low warning buzzer pulled his attention back to the task at hand. He touched a few places on the navigation screen and snapped to protect mode in an instant. The figures ahead weren’t native to the planet, not animals that would either flee or give grudging way to something larger and obviously faster than they were. Outlaws. And the fact they weren’t attempting to move or seek cover meant they were planning a confrontation.
“Adara!” She came awake at the urgency in his tone much like a soldier in the trenches, alert and looking to him for instructions. His pride surged to match his cock.
“What is it?” She rose to her knees, and the enticing sway of her breasts distracted him momentarily.
“Outlaws, I believe. Dress and strap into the bench in the back behind the cargo. Prepare for considerable turbulence. I may be forced to take flight.” Flying wasn’t safe now the suns were nearly down, but he wouldn’t tell her that. The gravitational shifts stymied even the best air to ground pilots as the winds followed the solar energy.
With a wide-eyed glance, she slipped from sight, and he heard the rustle of fabric over the sound of additional warning buzzers. She didn’t know him, yet her inner submissive recognized its Master and innately trusted him. There were no questions or paralyzing fear, merely simple obedience.
The scanners were picking up more shapes, some of them emerging from camouflage. Godsdamn them. They were adapting to the climate, improving their technology and getting smarter with their forays against others. He sent an update to the farm, and Orion responded almost instantly, waiting, no doubt, in great anticipation for their bride. Thorn’s belly clenched at the thought of those outlaws getting their hands on Adara then pushed the idea from his brain. Not happening.
Rather than risk distracting Thorn with a verbal reply, Orion’s message flashed on screen. He and Kellis would be on route in a minutia along with a complement of their hands. Thorn didn’t plan to stop, but rather try to move about through the staggered clumps of outlaw vehicles, seeking a weak spot. Unless they were really well coordinated—or armed with armor piercing weaponry—he could do so for some time, at least until reinforcements arrived.
“Are you all right, Adara?” There had been no sound since he’d started taking evasive maneuvers.
“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, with a thread of apprehension, but he took her at her word. There would be time later to comfort her. He concentrated on his tactics when a burst of energy knocked the carrier sideways. Hades’ teeth. They had bolt weapons, and another hit would fry his electronics and force him to drive without the assistance of the computer.
A check of the pod indicators confirmed that he wouldn’t be flying—the energy bolt had polarized the flight injectors. Gritting his teeth he drew on every skill he possessed to evade the outlaws. The bolt weapon sounded again but missed, and he marked its position, taking a precious second to alert his brothers, using the text mode, unsure if the enemy could intercept verbal communication.
Like a game of grimalkin and murine they sparred. Thorn hated playing the part of rodent, far more used to swiping with claws and superior strength. His brothers and the farm hands could travel more quickly given their cargo-free craft and smaller, more efficient engines, but now he wondered if he could give them enough time for a dramatic rescue. As if the enemy had anticipated his fear, an energy bolt sizzled and forced him to manual, the heavy vehicle challenging even his great strength, being designed for two operators. He’d been a fool to think he could take this most important journey without another male as back up. An arrogant, greedy fool, wanting to be the first to lay eyes on their intended in the flesh—so to speak.
The outlaws pulled closer and limited his field of evasion until he had the choice of slamming into one of them or standing down. He chose to stop and trust to the armor—he had weapons aboard and could defend the craft for some time if the armor held. If only there was enough time…
His com unit crackled, and a disembodied voice came forth. Surrender the craft and its cargo. We will spare you.
Sure they would. They’d kill him and make off with the craft, cargo and Adara. If it was just him he might consider trusting them, but he would never risk her. His blood chilled and ran sluggishly through his veins. If Orion and Kellis didn’t arrive in time and the outlaws breached the armor—
“Thorn?” Adara’s voice was thin with anxiety. He killed the com and set the systems to standby, once again checking the safe mode—intact.
“We must wait for reinforcements, agapi mou.” He ensured his tone communicated nothing but certainty and calm.
“Can I have a gun or something?”
Despite himself he whirled to stare at her, now disengaged from the seat and standing in her bare feet by a large crate marked Apparel. She held his gaze, green eyes clear and reflecting determination with a hint of fear. The rush of emotion squeezed his heart like a giant fist, and his knees weakened in the face of it. Their own redheaded woman, strong and powerful where it counted. Her surrender would be the greatest prize—if he lived long enough to see it.
Masking his feelings he moved to the weapons locker, sliding yet another crate out of the way. He withdrew two hand weapons and passed one to Adara who took it gingerly. He grabbed a long weapon with a sight and tucked the other into his belt.
“This dial indicates it is charged. Do not point it at anyone unless you intend to use it and depress this—” He showed her the trigger. “Be prepared for it to jolt in your hand, perhaps hold it in both hands, and do not drop it. And little one? Whatever you hit will fall and die, armor or no.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, but she nodded her understanding.
“Say it back to me.” He knew it was likely unnecessary, but as with anything he or his brothers communicated to her, they would ensure she understood to avoid misunderstandings. Her language was their second one, after all.
“The green dial says it’s charged, point it like you mean it, shoot and people die.”
He studied her face. She was very pale but resolute so he touched her cheek gently and momentarily celebrated the fact she didn’t flinch from him. Perhaps this danger would serve to draw them together and make her training less difficult. The com crackled again. Same message, delivered with a deadline.
“You could negotiate with them,” Adara offered. “Stall.”
“Outlaws don’t negotiate, little one.”
“Everyone negotiates, Thorn Freestar. Especially those who think they are in a position of power and wish to gloat. Edicts are fine, but most people like
to see others squirm.”
Thorn read between the lines, or behind them, and was amused at how adroitly she painted the parallel, despite the fact she was absolutely wrong. He and his brothers would never gloat—feel great satisfaction, yes, at her surrender, but never smugness. The faint scorn in her voice was detectable, and that would be punishment number two.
There would definitely be a letter board in the pleasure room, hung at Adara’s height so she might easily enter her indiscretions as she made them. Although positioning the board higher and watching her stand on tip-toe to write those things would be an arousing sight, her lovely legs straining and full breasts lifting with her effort. He moved to the com unit, recognizing how his fantasies were distracting him.
“Who are you?” He ensured his voice snapped with additional authority.
“We have no names nor hold a rank, Freestar. We have nothing, so wish to relieve you of your cargo.”
“How do I know you will honor your word?”
A coarse, phlegmy chuckle preceded the retort. “Oh, we’re an honorable lot, Freestar. That’s why we’re outlaws. Your time is running out.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Thorn saw Adara lean toward the com and her lips part. He managed to silence the unit before she spoke, and the rage of pure terror poured over him. She either saw or felt it and backed away, the hand weapon dangling from her fingertips, eyes wide with fear. She tightened her grip on the weapon but kept moving until she came up against the wall. He couldn’t spare the time to explain, so contented himself with a glare and a growled, “Keep silent.”
At her instantaneous nod, he flipped the com back on and told the outlaws he would consider their request. As Adara predicted, there was a spirited exchange, eventually culminating in a final demand for immediate surrender, but it bought them enough time. His scanners picked up the telltale image of three craft approaching at a quick pace, and it appeared the outlaws received the same news because there was a flurry of sound and movement and a hasty retreat.
Thorn casually approached Adara and relieved her of the weapon, pretending not to notice the way she pulled into herself. He needed to move past his earlier reaction, the adrenaline now handicapping his fine motor skills and leaving his muscles drained, before he raised his hand to her. Inwardly he sighed at the prospect of yet another correction after the recent fright, but it had to be done. Adara had much to learn.
Double checking the image relayed from the scanner on the door, he opened it to his brothers. Orion and Kellis were covered in body armor and bristled with weapons, and their features were strained. They charged past him and stumbled to a halt as they spied their woman cringing against the wall of the craft.
“What has he done to you, my love?” Trust Kellis to recover first and pollute the very air with his charm. “Or are you still afraid of the outlaws?”
Thorn snorted. “She was hardly afraid, Kellis. She asked for a weapon and was about to negotiate with them!”
Kellis’s affect altered immediately. “Negotiate? She was going to let them know she was on board?” The astonishment was overlaid with the same angry fear Thorn had experienced first hand.
Orion shook his head, nearly bristling with upset. “Ah, my sweet. You have no idea—”
“Godsdamn right! I don’t have any idea!” Adara’s shrieked protest made them flinch in surprise and silenced Orion. “I was trying to help Mr. Arrogant there, and he nearly scared me to death me with his response! And he just looked at me to do it!”
Kellis clearly fought a smile at Thorn’s expense and Orion arched a brow, but they began as one to divest themselves of their gear. They left it to Thorn to deliver the bad news, but he figured he was man enough. Their woman was giving his inner Dom fits.
“Remove your dress, Adara.”
She gasped and tried to become one with the wall. “No.”
Orion blinked, and Thorn knew he was going to ask Adara if she was going to use her safe word. He wouldn’t have it. Their intended wasn’t merely a sub. She was their bride and as such would accept their edicts. There would be no safe word.
“I will add ten for every minute you balk, little one.” Both of his brothers shifted their stance but didn’t gainsay him.
“You’re going to spank me again? Because I nearly spoke to those outlaws?”
Kellis pitched his voice low in an obvious effort to calm her. “Had they learned a woman was aboard they would have stormed the craft, killed Thorn and made you wish for death. The cargo would have been the least of their concern. Harming you in the battle wouldn’t have mattered to them. They would have used you regardless, perhaps used you had you been killed in the attack. They are not particular.”
The tiny spray of freckles on her nose stood out against her increasing pallor. Even her rosy lips paled. “My gods,” she breathed. “Where have I landed?”
“Truth, my sweet,” Orion confirmed. “And now you must comply. Undress.”
“Wh…why?”
“To allow your hu—” A violent cough from Thorn cut Orion off from proclaiming them as her husbands, and with another blink, his brother said, “To allow us to ease our terror at what might have taken place and cope with the stress, Adara. And to teach you.”
“So I made an honest mistake, scared you and I have to fix it by taking a spanking? That’s nuts. And I get the lesson already, just from what you told me. It won’t happen again. Believe it. I have a working brain.”
Thorn couldn’t risk that working brain presenting further argument and derailing their plan. Kellis might soften and undermine them—he was the weak link—and Orion might side with his twin. He crossed to Adara and tossed her over his shoulder, making his way to the seat behind the cargo crates. She screamed and flailed at him but desisted when he laid a crack on her upturned bottom.
Swiveling into place, Thorn sat and arranged his little burden over his knee, pulling her dress up and allowing it to fall to veil her shoulders and head. Orion and Kellis crowded around and stared with awe and lust at her naked curves and the base of the bright pink plug nestled between her buttocks. Orion chose clothing and other such items for their subs and Kellis chose the toys. Thorn leaned to articles of discipline.
Orion knelt and eased her garment off, placing his hand beneath their beloved’s chin to raise her head so he could look into her face. “See me, my sweet. Look into my eyes. Know this is our way and for the best, Adara.”
The startled look crossing Orion’s features told Thorn she wasn’t gazing at the eldest twin with anything close to love and respect, but Orion composed himself and regarded Adara solemnly and with great sweetness. Kellis stepped in and stroked her hair, murmuring encouragement. That made Thorn the bad guy. So be it. He spanked Adara with heavy, measured swats, not avoiding the base of the plug and made it about correction until Orion gave him the look. He had to admit that her sobs and snuffling twice in one day was a killer, and he relented enough to telegraph a thought to Kellis.
Kellis hustled to slip a hand between Adara’s widespread thighs, and Thorn felt her jerk and attempt to avoid what would be a gentle stimulation of her clit. He squeezed her calves tighter between his much stronger legs and Kellis persisted while Thorn rubbed the stinging flesh of her very red ass in ever widening circles. The sweet musky smell of their bride’s arousal drifted to their collective noses. If Thorn wasn’t still riding the memory of Adara nearly giving away her presence to fucking outlaws he might have smiled when the twins closed their eyes and inhaled deeply at the same moment.
Adara tensed, and her buttocks clenched in her extremis. Kellis looked pleased, and Orion caught her slight sound with his fingertips. Thorn wished his pants weren’t so tight, and his cock glumly agreed, knowing it wasn’t getting any action that day. Their plan to prepare her and let her rest during the short journey home in order to take her upon arrival had gone to hades.
Motioning for a blanket, Thorn wrapped his woman, his heart, loosely, and cradled her against his chest. She kept
her eyes screwed shut, but he waited patiently until she chanced a glance at him and he captured it with his best Dom look. “You took your punishment beautifully, agapi mou. Thank your Masters for tempering it.”
A flicker of outrage dried her tears and that luscious mouth set. A slight shake of her head preceded a muttered, “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Masters Orion, Kellis and Thorn,” he prompted.
Orion offered a bottle of water, holding it to her lips. She gulped a few swigs before struggling to a sitting position, the discomfort of her bottom evident by the way her face pinched. “You don’t serve the title, Mr. Freestar. None of you do.” The defiance in the words was mirrored by the defiance in her red-rimmed eyes. “Maybe you can punish me into saying it, but it won’t mean anything. You haven’t given me an inch since I got here, not one iota of understanding. You just bulled right fucking ahead. So do your worst. I’m done.”
Holy fuck. Thorn didn’t look at either of the twins, aware his next move would make or break the situation. He forced himself to nod sagely and got to his feet with Adara still held securely in his arms. He settled her into the seat and secured the seat belts, making sure the blanket was in place. Leaning in, he spoke quietly in her ear. “Your language disappoints me, little one. Something else for me to do my worst about. But not today. You will sit with enough discomfort. I have an excellent memory, however, and the twins rarely forget disrespect either. Consider the battle lines joined. We have many days ahead of us. And there are other methods of punishment.”
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