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The last thing I need is for someone to yank back the curtain and discover me in the middle of receiving a spanking on my bare bottom. Furthermore, if someone tried to help me, Brute might possibly hurt them.
So, I cry quietly and strive not to make any noises that might draw attention.
I repress a gasp when he pulls my cheeks wide apart, apparently ready to continue his inspection of my bottom. I hold my breath as he taps at my pucker again, and I fight the urge to squirm when he draws my pussy wide apart, fully exposing my core. But despite my discomfort, I hold still. It’s my hope that if I’m cooperative, he won’t resume spanking.
To my relief, after the footsteps and voices vanish, Brute settles me upright on his lap. I heave a mighty sigh of relief and more tears fill my eyes. I’m so glad it’s over.
The pain… Oh God, the pain. I squirm around, unable to get comfortable. How many times did he strike my butt? Twenty? Thirty? I lost count after ten. All I know is my bottom is aflame.
I think of his threats to take a strap to me—to give me a whipping—and I cry harder. I don’t want that.
I don’t wanthim.
I want to leave this alcove and never see him again.
He gathers me close to his chest and murmurs to me in the Darrvason tongue. The strange words wash over me as he strokes my hair and back.
My heart lurches. He’s offering me comfort.
He’s trying to soothe me.
Why does that make me want to cry harder?
He withdraws a clean white cloth from his pocket and dabs my face, gently drying my tears. Our eyes lock and I feel a weird tug in my chest. It’s as though I can feel the intensity of his desire for me. It’s the strongest emotion I’ve ever experienced, and it shocks me to the depths of my being.
My arms also tingle so hard they’re almost itching, and I suddenly notice there’s a faint green glow coming from beneath his shirt, gleaming through the black material. His upper arms. The same location on my body that’s tingling. I want to ask if it means anything, but I can’t find my voice. The truth is, I’m afraid.
I’m aware that among some alien races, mating pairs can form unbreakable bonds. That couples can imprint upon one another. My father used to tell me about the different alien races he encountered during his emissary missions, regaling me with unusual but interesting otherworldly customs. I remember hanging on his every word even when I didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. Life—any life—beyond the confines of theJansonnahas always fascinated me.
I summon the courage to say, “All I did was try to get away from you. What you were doing was embarrassing me. You didn’t have to spank me. Especially not so hard.” My lower lip quivers, but I manage to blink fast enough to prevent additional tears from falling.
He tips my face up and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “That was a light punishment, Jenny. It was just a hand spanking. When you commit a more serious infraction, you’ll receive a harsher chastisement. A longer, harder spanking, or perhaps a whipping. I will not tolerate misbehavior from you, and I intend to train you to be an obedient mate. You will submit to me in every possible way, little female. You’ll surrender your body to me, as well as your heart and soul.” He brushes my hair behind my ears and kisses my forehead again.
Despite myself, I melt at his tender actions.
I take a moment to process his words. He spanked me to tears and it hurt terribly, and he honestly believes it was a light punishment?
Shivers assail me as I imagine how awful it would be to endure a whipping at his hand.
I want to tell him that he might take my body—if he tried to force himself on me, I wouldn’t be able to stop him—but he will never lay claim to my heart and soul. Never. I want to tell him I will resist until my dying breath. But I keep quiet, not wanting to provoke him into dispensing additional punishment.
It's more than not wanting to provoke him, I realize with a start. I also have no wish to hurt him. Very strange considering he just spanked me. I should want to retaliate, shouldn’t I? I should delight in the prospect of turning him in to Captain Warren and letting the two sides hash it out. Maybe if he were formally accused of assault, he would get banished from theJansonna.
But my chest becomes tight at the prospect of turning him in. Why do I feel protective of him? It doesn’t make sense.
Why am I enjoying his gentle embrace only minutes after he punished me?
“I must return you to your quarters, little female.”
“Oh,” I say. “I suppose you’re right.” Why does the idea of parting with him make me sad? But if I’m not back soon, Mom will worry over my absence. She knew I was headed to the medical bay for a hormone suppression shot, but if I don’t return in a timely manner, she might go looking for me.
“A group of engineers will arrive at your quarters soon to install a video comm that’s linked to theHaxxal,” he says, taking me by complete surprise. “I’ve been ordered to oversee the installation. That is why we must return.”
I withdraw slightly from his arms and meet his dark gaze. “A video comm? That’s linked to theHaxxal?” I gape at him as realization sinks in. Ellie’s on theHaxxal. Does that mean…
“You will be able to communicate with your sister soon.”
“That’s amazing!” I blink back tears as I think about how happy this will make my mother. “Are all the families of the thirty women being given video comms?”
