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But now she felt certain that she saw something more shimmering in his eyes. His actions and his words were mechanical, but she could have sworn that an intense… something… burned behind his blue irises and very large pupils.
Maybe she just wanted to. She returned to her room with conflicting feelings clanging in her chest.
She had a half-cycle to herself to sleep and relax. Time, therefore, to bathe.
There was plenty to be said for the hot water on this ship, she thought. It was such a rarity to have so much of it, particularly on a freighter, that she stared at it as it continued to pour, crystal-clear and hot, over her finger, for many long minutes after she turned it on.
As she sank into the water, it was almost too hot. When her tender skin reached the steaming liquid, she had to suck in her breath and grit her teeth to force herself to continue sinking. The heat set the steady throb of pain that seemed to have burrowed deep into her welts to pulsing.
She leaned back, relaxed, and closed her eyes once she managed to submerge herself. The pain faded, but the pulses remained, reminding her of each and every strike that Torian’s hand had worked into her skin.
The trainer was still inside her, moving when she shifted, touching new places. It was an object of abject humiliation, and she wanted desperately to hate it enough to remove it. Instead, she moved her hips so that the protruding bulb caught on the bottom of the tub and pushed the plug in her interior in different directions.
Obedient. Torian’s voice seemed to actually be next to her ear. Or I will have to discipline you further.
She worked her fingers between her legs. The slickness was still there, and her flesh felt tender and used. She had never imagined that someone could make her feel like this. If she had known, maybe she would have become the slut that High Mother accused her of being.
But no man, or alien, had ever taken her breath away like this. Just thinking of Torian, imagining what lay beneath his clothing, made the ache return.
She stroked herself; this much, she knew how to do well. But instead of imagining the myriad things she’d always imagined before, she pictured him. She imagined what he’d do next time, the sharp sting of a rod? Or his hand? Would he decide to actually take her? Thinking of him inside her made her tip into ecstasy.
But after the orgasm shook from inside her, and her body surged with sudden, shaking cold, she felt hollowed out. She could only remember his mercurial change, how suddenly he’d become cold to her.
Still, the bath was nice, she tried to tell herself. At least there was that. She relaxed until it became lukewarm, a luxury she’d never had before in her life.
She spent far longer than was ordinary grooming herself; smoothing her hair with the brush she found, scrutinizing her face in the mirror. It was silly, she kept repeating to herself, even as she was undeterred, viewing herself from different directions, wondering what Torian actually thought of her.
Sleep was punctuated by vivid dreams of Torian doing some very naughty things to her helpless little self. She woke frequently, hot and sweaty. When the time came, she got up again, did another quick wash and arranged herself in front of the mirror.
This time, he’d instructed, no one would come for her. She was being trusted to keep her own schedule or, rather, his.
After toying with the idea of arriving late, she decided against it. Of the many strings that pulled at her, her pride tugged the hardest: Torian was not her mate. He wasn’t anything to her but a temporary trainer, and he knew that as well as she did.
Still, her heart beat a little faster than was usual as she stood in front of the entrance to the training chamber. She waved her hand over the door, but it didn’t open. She looked around for a signaling device and found nothing. Despairing, she raised a hand in a fist to rap her knuckles against it.
Just then, the hatch slid open.
Torian was standing on the other side, tall and formidable as always. But instead of the tight flight suit he had on a loose-fitting top, slightly parted at the neck to reveal a tuft of dark chest hair. His bottoms were baggy, too. The boots were gone, his feet bare. Quaia stared at his feet; they looked just like any man’s, except larger.
She had to actually, physically, shake the thought from her head.
Quaia inhaled, and her breath entered her lungs, feeling like ice-cold air. He stepped aside and beckoned her with a single wave. A whiff of his musky, masculine scent invaded her senses, disorienting her.
The hatch slid shut. Torian waved two hands over the floor, looking like he was sculpting the air. A moment later it bulged and rose, curving and shaping to form a couch of sorts. “Sit,” he said.
She did, and the plug moved and then pushed against her tender insides, making her flush in discomfort—though whether it was physical or mental, she wouldn’t have been able to say.
She watched Torian as he walked over to the table, wondering why he was in his casual civilian clothing. He rested his weight against the lip of the table and folded his arms over his chest as he stared at the deck. She twisted anxiously, unsure where this was going.
She watched him brood, his ponderous frame rising and falling slowly with each breath. Now it felt good to be in his presence. Natural. Warmth filled her when she was around him.
A vein of worry worked its way through her good mood. What was he thinking about, she had to wonder? Her mind veered to their last interaction, to the sexy spanking, to his almost-promise that he may still have her yet that had given her deliciously dirty dreams.
Finally, he turned to look at her. His dark gaze bored into her. There was worry furrowed across his brow. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out in a heavy sigh that sent her heart sliding through her center and, it felt like, down to her feet. “We have a problem, Quaia,” he said quietly.
She stiffened in her seat. They were not words she expected to hear. Just minutes ago, her whole body had been filled with excitement at the thought of seeing him again, now this.
But a thought flashed through her mind, and sparked a flutter of hope that bloomed in her chest.
