by Regine Abel
“Are you amused now, Grace? Do you still think it was funny?”
I shook my head, blubbering, and curled into a ball. For some reason, I wished he was yelling instead of grinding out his words. This felt even more ominous.
“No? That’s too bad because we’re just getting started. Get up!”
Please, Anton. I’m so sorry. Please…
I didn’t want to get up and fought the urge to curl up tighter on the ground. But I couldn’t anger him further. I struggled to my feet, steeling myself for round two. Before I could get my bearings, Anton shoved me against the wall. I threw my hands up just in time to keep me from smashing face first into it. My wrists wrung from the impact. Before I could fully straighten, Anton bent me forward again and kicked my feet apart. His hands roughly lifted the hem of my sarong.
The sound of him spitting was swiftly followed by his massive cock pushing its way inside my pussy. Despite his saliva, being so dry and tense, it burned like hell. The added pressure of the butt plug only made it more agonizing. A metallic taste filled my mouth from biting inside my cheeks. Fighting to silence my whimpers, I searched for a quiet place in my mind to take refuge. So I wouldn’t feel…
Anton wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled my head back. I gritted my teeth against the pain, while he continued pounding his length in and out of me. Each stroke burned going in and pulled at my insides going out. The worst part was his pelvis slamming against my ass, pushing the butt plug in. I was never good with pain. Coming from him, it hurt even more.
At least, he’s not hitting me.
Anton’s hot breath brushed against my ear. “That cock fucking your pussy belongs to a half-breed. That cum you’ve been swallowing the past two weeks and that’s been filling that tight cunt of yours, belongs to a half-breed. That half-breed Braxian cock is going to continue fucking you senseless for the next six months.”
This ‘punishment’ needed to end so that I could forget it ever happened. As if hearing my silent plea, Anton pulled out of me. The horrible burning sensation made me cry out but was followed by intense relief. I didn’t know which hurt more between my vagina and my battered throat – both throbbed in counterpoint to each other. My legs wobbled beneath me. I wanted him to be done so I could crawl back to my cushion.
But he wasn’t.
Anton dragged me by the nape to his desk and pressed my face against the top, his hand holding me down. Even though I didn’t deny him the right to his revenge, this was too much. My throat and my pussy, I could manage, but not my ass. I wasn’t prepared enough for someone so big. Imagining the damage he was about to do to me, I began trembling all over, my breath catching in my throat with terror.
Anton pulled the butt plug out of my ass in one swift motion. I screamed, feeling like my insides were being torn out. Searing pain radiated along my spine and down my legs. I felt a trickle of cold liquid over the seam of my ass and the citrusy scent of Denax filled the room.
As if in a dream, I heard my broken voice plead to him.
“Please… Please n-not… this. Not this.”
I hadn’t meant to beg for mercy, fearing to incense him further. Time seemed frozen. His hand still held me down but nothing else was happening. Despite my blood roaring in my ears, I could hear myself sobbing in the otherwise silent room.
Please, please, please don’t do this.
Anton suddenly let go of me. Boneless, I let myself slide off the desk and crumpled to the floor. Everything hurt. Too battered to move, I just lay there, weeping.
His polished black shoes entered my line of sight. I didn’t have the strength to look up at him but felt his gaze on me.
“Now, Grace… Now, I finally believe you truly are sorry,” Anton said, his voice void of emotion.
His feet moved away from me and I heard his office door close behind me.
Anton was gone.
CHAPTER 9
Anton
It wasn’t supposed to be like this… feel like this… Yesterday should have been a moment of triumph; of vindication. The cleansing of my disgrace and reclaiming of my honor. Not this miasma of shame and self-disgust. Not the churning bitter bile of remorse and self-contempt that ate at me. Six years I waited to confront her, punish her for the offense against my clan and me, to humiliate her the way she humiliated me.
Six long years…
My eyes wandered back to William. Stiff-backed, he sat in a chair next to the couch I occupied. I sat at the same spot as that first time Grace’s lips made me touch heaven. Over the years, William’s role with me alternated from the hero who saved my life, to a father figure and big brother, to a business partner and right-hand man. But through all that, he always remained my one and only friend. Arms crossed over his chest, his hard stare made me feel small, alien in my own office.
The condemnation in his eyes cut deep.
The silence hung heavy between us, like a living, breathing entity. I shifted, finding it difficult to hold his gaze. I felt like a child facing a disappointed parent.
A long, drawn out sigh pushed through William’s nose.
“When you set out to punish Grace, I thought you intended some mild humiliation like you did at Sade and to spend the next few months fucking her. I could accept that. But what you did last night—”
“Will never happen again,” I interrupted, my eyes cast down.
I didn’t care much what humans thought of me. But William was different. His opinion meant a lot to me.
“It better not.”
My eyes snapped to his at the sharpness of his tone. The coldness of his stare, his lips set in a grim line, gave me chills. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat but my mouth was too dry.
“I realize Braxians have their own set of rules and that your contract gives you certain rights,” William said, “but I’m human. I cannot accept a woman being treated this way, least of all by someone I call a friend.”
“I already told you, it won’t happen again.” His words irritated me, mostly because they echoed my own thoughts. I wanted him to stop. Without thinking, I blurted out, “I merely followed Braxian rules.”
My argument rang hollow to my own ears. Shoulders sagging, I shut my eyes, unwilling to see the disapproval on his face.
“By Braxian rules, you should be dead.”
My blood ran cold.
William continued without mercy. “Your father followed his conscience rather than the rules. Learn from him. Some things you do cannot be undone. They will haunt you for the rest of your life. Think long and hard what kind of man you want looking back at you in the mirror.”
Rising from the couch, he leveled me with a hard stare. “Braxian honor isn’t everything, Anton.”
He headed for the door with heavy steps and closed the door behind him.
Honor…
Humans had no real understanding of honor, at least not the way Braxians did. A man without honor was nothing, no one, not fit to live. As a half-breed, upholding my honor was a matter of survival. Unless they were females, most half-breeds were killed at birth or terminated during pregnancy so they wouldn’t taint the bloodline.
On Braxia, women were always welcomed, whatever their species. As they were considered inferior beings, the purity of their blood was irrelevant. They lived to entertain the men. Being pureblood only meant they received the honor of birthing the next generation of Braxians.
My father’s decision to spare my life stained our clan’s honor and lowered our status. Every day, growing up, I dreaded the moment he would give in to the clan’s pressure and smother me to cleanse our bloodline of my tainted presence. I needed to work harder, be smarter and make myself indispensable to justify the mercy my father had shown me. But I was small and weak compared to the purebloods. When I wasn’t working, I would hide or dodge bullies like Gerwin determined to kill me for bragging rights. However, what I lacked in strength, I more than made up for in business savvy.
I hustled and bustled, scraping every credi
t possible until I could open a strip club on Braxia, exclusively featuring human females. For all their bluster, Braxians craved the delicate elegance and beauty of human women. Most Braxians never had the opportunity or means to travel off-world to seek them out, so I brought them home instead. I saw a need and catered to it. In no time, I opened a second club, then a third before expanding with new locations off-world. My clubs provided work, income, and status for my clan. While they still despised me for being a half-breed, they no longer wanted to see me harmed – I benefited them too much.
It took nearly ten years of relentless wheeling and dealing before I garnered enough credibility to grovel before the elders’ council. I needed them to invest in my Hive Network venture. Even at the time of the signing on Jeruna, some of the elder clans hesitated to enter into business with a mutt. That day should have been my consecration, my redemption. With that deal, I was going to build the greatest entertainment empire anyone had ever seen. We would no longer be a lesser clan. The wealth generated by the Hive would increase our clan’s status. I could still see the pride in my father’s eyes when the contract was signed.
I was no longer the shameful bastard of the clan leader. I was the hero that would turn the tide for our struggling clan and lift us to the top of the Braxian elite. A decade of hard work followed by a mere hour of celebration before my descent into hell because of three stupid girls. The contract already being signed, and therefore binding, was the only reason I still lived. The elders couldn’t retract themselves, and my clan needed to meet the revenue commitments of the contract. They didn’t have my business knowledge and connections to see it through.
The trouble was, the girls didn’t just humiliate me and my clan by extension. Darla and Steffie ridiculed Braxians as a whole. Their punishment didn’t come from my clan but from the elder clans. Had Grace mocked us through the intercom, they would have gotten her as well. But Grace only offended the half-breed. The elders didn’t give a shit about my disgrace beyond the fact that they were now engaged in a business deal with a dishonored man.
As a consequence, they shunned my entire clan. Three long years during which no one would buy from us, trade or do business with us. We weren’t welcomed at any social event or gathering. No one would even speak to us. For most clans, a shunning was a death sentence. Sometimes, banishing the clansman that caused the shunning was enough for it to be lifted. In my case, it wasn’t an option or I would have been banished… or killed immediately.
It was a difficult time for my father with senior members of the clan demanding he step down as leader because of me. However, my father was strong and held onto his power, sometimes by breaking a few jaws and limbs. Thankfully, the Hive Network became a resounding success. By the second year, I already owned four hives and began construction of a fifth. I generated enough revenue to keep the clan living comfortably and provided work for all those who needed it. By the end of the third year, I returned the elder clan’s investment, four years ahead of schedule. In response, they lifted the shunning.
At the time, Braxia had entered the worst of its financial crisis, and many clans turned their eyes to us – to me – for work, business collaborations or financial assistance. Today, half the main clans on Braxia were beholden to me in one way or another, be it through loans, supply chain, or employment.
For all this, I should have reveled in Grace’s pain. Instead, watching her choke on my cock, tremble before me, crying with heart-wrenching sobs had torn me apart. However, my duty to my clan wouldn’t allow me to back down. I guess Gerwin was right about me after all – I was weak, a poor excuse of a clansman. A true Braxian would have gotten his rocks off handling Grace the way I did, fucking her in every hole while she begged for mercy.
But no, not me. Not the pathetic mutt of a half-breed.
I couldn’t even do it. Her asking me to stop once was all it took to break my already fragile resolve. Right now, I felt nothing but shame, fighting the urge to throw myself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. Maybe my father should have smothered me as a child. I would never be a true Braxian – I didn’t have the spine for it.
I rubbed my face with both hands, fighting the depression settling in. We were only two weeks into the contract. Despite my threats to her, I wouldn’t be able to treat Grace like this again, let alone for another five and half months. Like a coward, I avoided her since our confrontation. I couldn’t bear the look of despair in her eyes. What the fuck was I going to do?
And to make matters worse, that asshole Gerwin and his goons would come by the penthouse in a couple of days to discuss business. Technically, I already displayed my mastery over Grace. Publicly. Yet the clans would expect her to wait on me during their visit. I didn’t need this shit right now.
My com rang, pulling me out of my dark musing.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Myers,” Dana said, “there is a Mr. Marcus Gayle at the reception requesting an audience with you.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
This day was just getting better. What the hell did Marcus want? Why would he show his face after abandoning Grace? When the hell did he get back on Venus Hive? I considered telling her to send him away but I needed to know what he was up to.
“Send him up,” I said, terminating the com.
I checked the time on my monitor. Grace would be in her vocal training session for another forty-five minutes. Marcus would need to be gone before her return. I didn’t want him anywhere near her. Especially not now while I was trying to sort out how to handle her. Grace was mine and no one, least of all him, would take her from me.
William escorted Marcus into my office, then left without another word. I didn’t miss the curiosity on his face. By now, all of Venus Hive would buzz with the news that my woman’s ex-boyfriend was back.
“Hello, Mr. Myers,” Marcus said, taking two hesitant steps towards me. He outstretched his hand but then withdrew it when I remained seated.
I leaned back in my chair and gave him a once over. His tussled dirty blond hair looked as if he just fell out of bed. With his striking green eyes, a perky nose and cleft chin, his face was everything mine wasn’t. Despite his bargain suit, worn shoes, and cheap fragrance, Marcus was a good-looking man. He could make hand-me-downs look like couture. Marcus was tall and lithe with average muscle mass. I could probably toss him across the room with one hand without breaking a sweat.
“Mr. Gayle,” I replied, “did you get lost?”
Marcus chuckled. Fiddling with his collar, he took another two steps forward.
“No, not lost, Mr. Myers, though I can see why you would think that.”
I gestured with my chin at the red empire chair in front of my desk. Grace’s chair.
Had it truly only been two weeks?
Marcus took a seat, thanking me. “So, you must wonder why I’m visiting?”
I stared at him in silence. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.
“Right. So, I wanted to thank you for rescuing Grace. I never would have left her behind had I known they would come after her. They’ve never acted like this before.”
Indeed, threatening relatives and loved ones over bad debt was unheard of in ‘civilized’ circles. Low-level thugs and criminals still did on some backwater planets and mercenary space stations. Then again, creditors rarely received strong incentives to make sure the damsel in distress would have no other choice than to beg for my assistance.
I smirked.
Marcus clenched his jaw, putting two and two together. He knew he could never prove it. Good looking, and smart. Under different circumstances, I could have used someone like him.
“I didn’t rescue her,” I deadpanned. “We signed an agreement.”
“Yes, about that…”
My eyes narrowed. Pretty boy better tread carefully. I had no intention of ever releasing her, not even after the six months were up.
“…I was able to rectify the situation that put me in this predicament, to begin
with,” Marcus said, his eyes flittering between mine. “Which means I’m able to buy back Grace’s contract from you if we can agree on terms.”
What the fuck?
When Dana announced Marcus’ arrival, a lot of scenarios played through my mind. But this? Who the hell would pay over twelve million credits to buy back the contract of some chick he wasn’t even mated to? How deep was the bond between them?
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I asked. “This is more money than you’ve ever had. You’re a free man, cleared of any debt. Why not walk away? And don’t tell me some shit about being in love with her; we both know you’re not.”
He tilted his head to the side, his gaze assessing. The silence stretched for a few seconds and my irritation bubbled to the surface. I was about to snap at him when he snorted as if in derision of whatever thought crossed his mind.
“I can see why you would expect me to cut and run. After all, I’m a hustler and peddler of ‘exotic’ goods. But I’m not a con man. You don’t last long in this line of work if you screw over your business partners. I’m not an overly proud man, but I do have my honor.”
Marcus reclined in his chair and crossed his leg. I didn’t like this sudden change of attitude. I wanted back the nervous man who walked into my office a few minutes ago.
“You’ve also got another thing wrong, Mr. Myers.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
Marcus smiled. “I do love Grace.”
His words struck me like a slap in the face. The smug, confident tone of his voice made me wonder if they truly shared deep feelings. Had Grace given her heart away?
“You’re going to come into my office and lie to my face?”
“I’m not lying to you, Mr. Myers,” Marcus said calmly. “I’m not in love with her, but I do love her. Grace and I have been together since we were nine. We grew up together in the same orphanage.”