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He led her up a curving ramp and down a short corridor that overlooked the main hall below. The shorter hallway was lined with doorways on one side. He suddenly began speaking in a language she didn’t understand. There was no one nearby, but he was still carrying his helmet. Was the helmet sensitive enough to pick up his words or did he have a communications implant?
When the conversation ended, she dared to ask, “What was that about?”
“I told my partner to depart as soon as the other two are onboard.”
“Are you talking about my sisters?”
“I am referring to the females you were raised to believe were your sisters. Much about your life has been a fabrication.”
Her heart sank and her steps lagged. She would deal with her grandmother’s lies later. She had bigger concerns right now. “Have your soldiers found them?”
“With your grandmother’s help.”
She glared up at him. “I don’t believe you. Grandma would never help you.” It was an exaggeration and they both know it. Iris had been cooperating off and on since his arrival. Of course, she had a clear understanding of what was taking place.
He shrugged. “She had no choice.”
Did he mean she’d been pressured into assisting them, or something more alien? Could Altorians read minds? Not sure she wanted to know the answer, she let the subject drop.
He stepped in front of the final door and a scanner beam passed over his face. She tried to see around him, but he pivoted to the side and urged her to enter. This cabin was bigger than the one she’d seen earlier. A surprisingly large bed was separated from the living space by a translucent divider. Other than the roomier size, there wasn’t much to recommend it. Everything was utilitarian and well organized, but impersonal. Did he do anything other than sleep here?
The door slid closed behind him and he set his helmet on a stand nearby. Then he pressed some sort of trigger over his collarbone and his armor liquefied. She watched with wide-eyed wonder as the protective layer was absorbed by his black-on-black uniform.
“How the… what is… how did you do that?” She was too astonished to form an intelligent sounding question.
He shrugged again. “It is a transmorphic polymer called trycinaline, but that is all I know about it. I am a soldier, not a scientist.” Without warning, he grasped her upper arm and dragged her across the room. “Now that we are alone, let me clarify my expectations.” He sat down in one of three tall-backed, yet armless chairs and pulled her between his legs. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. I will not lie to you, but I expect honesty in return. I will not tolerate disrespect or defiance for any reason, is that clear?”
“Respect has to be earned and I am only defiant when—”
He unfastened her jeans before she realized what he was doing.
“Stop it!” She slapped at his hands and tried to twist away, but he worked so fast there was no avoiding his intentions. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Her jeans were unzipped and down around her ankles when reality set in. Her panties were still in place, but why had he pulled down her pants? She was aboard a ship that he commanded. No one would stop him from doing anything he chose with her. “Please. I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“This is not about what you want.”
Miniature flames flashed hypnotically within his dark eyes. She tugged against his hold but fear was rapidly overtaking her anger. He bent her face down over his leg and held her there with firm pressure on her upper back.
Fear gave way to incredulity. Was this jerk actually going to spank her?
“You belong to me, Flora.” He rested his other hand on her upturned ass as he trapped her legs between his. “You have since you turned fifteen. Earth has made you willful. You must learn Altorian ways.” His hand lifted then smacked down against her bottom.
There was no fucking way she was going to lie here and let this happen. She reared and twisted, punching at his legs, hips, anything else she could reach.
“Fiery spirit is desirable.” As he spoke, he gathered her hands and brought them to the small of her back. “I will help you channel all this energy into something productive.” He grasped both wrists with one long-fingered hand.
She was immobilized now, held in the most demeaning position. He brushed his free hand over her bottom, squeezing the cheeks as if to determine the quality of her flesh.
“You are one twisted fuck,” she sneered, anger flaring again.
He smacked her hard enough to make her gasp, one side and then the other. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out. His hand fell again, the interval faster. Her panties dampened the sting, but nothing blocked out the humiliation. She was a grown woman. This was ridiculous.
He spanked her some more, moving the slaps from side to side. “You will be respectful or you will spend a lot of time bent over my lap.” He accented the claim with a flurry of hard spanks.
The discomfort was annoying, but it left behind a sinking heat that made her squirm and press her thighs together.
“If this is how all Altorians treat women, I understand why my mother left.”
He pulled her panties down, baring her bottom. She closed her eyes, refusing to allow the absurd situation to humiliate her. He was the one with issues. Rational men didn’t spank women!
