Series: Zandian Brides Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I arch a brow. “You will obey me. We are lenient masters here on Zandia and allow our humans many freedoms. However, you are still under my charge.”
Her berry lips part. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
Is it wrong that I hope she tests me? That I can’t wait to give her a little taste of my punishment?
“I’ll be obedient,” she promises.
Veck, her voice is sweet as honey.
“You will.” I chuckle. “If not, Zandian masters have ways to keep our humans most compliant.” I lean down and brush my lips across the shell of her ear and whisper, “You’ll see.”
Her nipples bead up beneath her gown. “What do you mean?”
“We have unique methods to bond human to master,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry–most humans come to enjoy these methods as much as we do.”
I brush my knuckle down the side of her face. “But for now, let’s figure out what you need to get you back to full strength. Wait here.”
“Not that I have a choice.”
Ah. My cock thickens in my leggings. There it is. She’s testing me already.
“The correct response”–I catch her chin and hold it–“Is yes, Master.”
She stops breathing, her gaze wide on my face.
“Say it, Sia,” I prompt. “I need your obedience immediately. Now. And every time I ask.”
“I…” She hesitates.
I pull her against my body and twist her slightly, tossing the blanket aside. I stroke one hand over her buttock, then give it a mild slap. “You said it before. Say it now.”
I scent her arousal as she gasps out a choked sound. “Ai!”
I slap her again, a little harder, this time letting my hand rest after the spank, fingers splayed out across her delectable ass.
“Sia?”
“Yes, Master!” she gasps, then moans slightly and presses her legs together like she needs more friction there. I can’t vecking wait until I give it to her. But not yet. I need to build trust between us first.
“Good.” I rub her ass over the fabric of her gown. “Next time you say it faster, yes?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.” I take her chin again. “Because I will spank you for disobedience. Every time. It’s really the best way you’ll learn.”
Her cheeks deepen in color, and she drops her gaze.
Veck. I need to take this little human back to my domicile immediately. I’m rather desperate to start her training.
“I’ll return shortly,” I say in a rough voice then leave to find out what I need to do to take my beautiful prize home.
Sia
Sweet Mother Earth!
What’s wrong with me that I like that? Why do I want him to do it again, right now? There’s a vague memory of being backhanded by Ocretions across the face–that was painful, terrifying. This, however, is like warm honey in my veins.
He leaves me with my racing brain and my quivering body, but the knowing look he shoots in my direction tells me that he knows exactly what his two spanks did to me.
The cell door slides shut behind him, and I know it’s locked. But I don’t plan to escape. Where would I go? And why?
I stand and touch my ass with both hands. It doesn’t hurt, yet there’s a slight tingle from the spanks. The need between my thighs has grown, and I feel a wetness at the top of my cleft. That’s new–my body has never done that.
When he returns, my face flushes again.
“I’ve received permission to take you to my domicile,” he announces. “You will stay there with me.”
“Yes, Master,” I murmur. “How long?”
“As long as is necessary.” He gives me a measured look. “To regain your memories and acclimate to life here on Zandia. I’ll determine when you’re ready to integrate into society here.”
“Can I speak to my–the other humans before we go? My friend, Flora? Please?”
I need to talk to Flora as soon as possible. Does she remember more than I do? What is the thing we’re supposed to keep quiet? Who are we?
“Later.” He gazes at me. “She’s resting.”
‘Please.” It comes out almost a sob. Do you beg a master for this? Because I will, if I thought it would help.
He regards me, and his face softens. “I’ll show you.”
Instead of taking my elbow this time, he picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me down the hall then taps a door. It slides open.
Flora is lying on a sleeping platform, eyes shut, breathing evenly. Her face is battered and bandaged. Her hair still shorn by our masters as punishment. Her skin bears Ocretion tattoos of her crimes–mostly escape attempts and disobedience.
There’s a caretaker–a human I don’t recognize, one who must live here, adjusting some items on a tray. She nods to Daven and gives me a look of sympathy.
“She’ll be out for another few planet rotations,” she whispers.
I give a small cry. How will I remember more about myself if I can’t talk to my friends?