Page 26 of Trained as His Mate

She fought the warmth that spread through her. He’d just utterly humiliated her by marching her naked through the corridor. He was being studiously clinical in his interactions with her. Obviously he shared none of the same feelings she was fighting against. Why was it so hard to let herself believe that? Why couldn’t she just get this over with without overthinking it?

The flange settled against her rear, delicious in its discomfort. Not that she’d ever admit this to anyone, especially him.

“Excellent,” Torian whispered, and her heart filled with pride, which she tried to tamp down, but failed to.

She felt his breath on her neck, his hands moving up her body as he leaned over her. He lingered for far longer than seemed appropriate or necessary, one hand gently moving the plug inside her, applying pressure in small circles. She tried, but failed, to stifle a mewl.

“What I wish for you to learn from this, Quaia, is that it is far more pleasurable when you submit to me, and far less humiliating when you obey.”

She mewled again.

“Do you understand now?”

She moved her head against the table to nod, unable to articulate a single word.

“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it.”

“I understand,” she breathed, her voice hoarse. As Torian promised, to her chagrin, the submission was pleasurable.

“Now,” he began, his face still just a hand length or so from hers. “We will return to the training area.” He rose to standing, trailing his hand down her back. His fingers lingered there. “Where we will find out if your discipline has been sufficient or not. Stand up.”

She took her hands off her bottom and stood up straight by pushing herself from the table.

She turned to face him, and, bravely, the horror of having to walk back through the gangway. The only way was forward, and the best way was just to get it over with. She followed him out of the compartment and stopped at his side.

As they walked, she was grateful for the quick pace, and for Torian’s large frame in front of her. Perhaps she’d earned this much, she thought. But the image of the plug nestled between her cheeks emerged from her memory, and a fresh wave of humiliation washed over her.

He was right about one thing: she had learned her lesson. She had to work very hard not to jump into the training room.

Once inside, Torian turned and folded his arms over his chest. He stared at her for what seemed to be a very long time.

She held his gaze this time, his dominance and her own defiance twisting through her and igniting a hot need in her core.

“Now, Quaia, I must determine if you have learned your lesson from this punishment.”

She so very much wanted to be defiant, but when she said, “How?” it didn’t emerge from her lips with the smirking tone she’d attempted. It was more supplication than anything else. Tell me how, her voice seemed to be saying, and I will do it for you.

A fresh humiliation, she thought, her chest burning with shame.

But the approving look that he gave her flooded her mind, washing away all those thoughts. Frantic, maddening, lovely flutters erupted in her chest, and her pussy throbbed with aching need.

“Typically,” he began, in a clinical voice that faltered somewhat. “You must be able to look me in the eye and ask for forgiveness.”

More cool tingling seemed to pour over her in liquid form. Her skin flared hot; her cheeks, she was sure, were as red as a root vegetable. Her mouth opened, and she looked him in the eye even as it incinerated her with a strange kind of shame. “I ask for your forgiveness,” she said quietly.

It struck her that she genuinely did want it. A small tempest of fury tried to kick up in her brain, but Torian’s pleased expression stomped on it. “You are forgiven.”

When he stepped toward her, she drew in a breath and held it.

“Remarkable,” he said quietly.

“I… beg your pardon?” she asked, eyes still on his.

“I find your resolve remarkable. No tears. No histrionics. Not any female could or would have done what you just did. Most would have chosen to gamble and asked for a different punishment instead. Many would have begged for it. But not you, it seems, Quaia Sangsen.” He sounded as pleased as he looked.

This, too, sent a deep, rumbling pleasure through her. She couldn’t possibly be misunderstanding him in this moment, could she? A whisper of whimsy even fluttered through her. “I’m not like the other girls,” she whispered.

He touched her cheek, and she almost melted at his touch.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com