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Claimed by the Zandian Page 11
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Page 11
She starts to answer, but the toddler on her hip interrupts, waving one tiny purple fist, his other hand hanging tightly to his mother’s shoulder fabric. “I want to play!” he screams.
She scoots him up in her arms and drops a kiss on top of his smooth head. “We have to do some things first, Braxton.”
His screams increase in volume and he kicks at the parcel in her hand. “Sweetling, we’ve been over this.” Her voice is tired. I notice rings under her eyes.
“May I try?” Automatically, I reach out to take him.
She snorts. “Be my guest. Maybe you’re the magic we need. He won’t listen to a thing I say.” But she gives him right over with a trust that makes me smile. Whatever she’s overheard about my tactical expertise, or lack thereof, she shares that sense human females have for each other: I can trust you. You’re safe.
Her small child is warm in my arms, and heavier than he looks. But there’s something so right and amazing about holding his small sturdy frame.
Startled at this change in routine, he hiccups and stares up at me, studying my face.
“Do you know how to play stone toss?” I look at his light brown eyes, lined with purple, like adult Zandians.
He reaches up to touch my hair. “No.”
“It’s fun.” I shift him to a better position and tilt my head. “We take turns tossing rocks at a circle we draw in the dirt with a stick. I have a feeling you’d be great. Want to try?”
“No dirt here.” He points to the ground, which is paved over with marble-like flat rock.
“True. But there’s chalk just inside here.” I point to the nav dome. “And some great squishy mats for jumping.” I push the door open. “Come on in, I’ll show you.”
“Are we supposed to…” His mother hesitates.
“Oh, it’s okay,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “I’m early, so I can play with him while I wait. I’m the only one set up for this hour, so we won’t be in the way.”
I head into the area, past the screens and nav setup, over to the mats where Tarek tossed the ball to me. Where we made love.
It’s empty for the moment, so I pick up a smaller tactical ball from the rack. “Let’s toss this one around, okay?”
Kara taps her comm and talks. “Oh, I don’t know if I can come over right now and get it. Braxton is being difficult. I don’t know if I even have twenty minutes.” She sighs. “Maybe another planet rotation…”
“I can watch him for you.” The words come fast.
She turns. “But your session.”
She wants to, I can tell.
“Won’t start for a while. I have time. I’d like to do it.”
She looks around, calculating. I bet she’s doing some complex mental equation, weighing location, trust factor, urgency. Appears to make up her mind. “Well, that would be helpful. If you truly don’t mind.”
I toss the ball and he grabs it. Giggles. “I can comm you at once if there are issues. If you want, you can leave the comm on the whole time.”
“I’ll be fast.” She darts forward and bends down to hug her child. “Mama is going to run an errand and I’ll be back. Can you stay here with Zina while I do that?”
“Go away.” He pushes her with one hand and smiles up at me, enchantingly. “I play with Zina.”
“Okay then.” She rolls her eyes and smiles at me. Mouths “thank you” as she turns to the door. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Braxton and I play with the ball, and suddenly I know we’re not alone. I feel him behind me, staring at me. Not with his eyes, with his entire being, the way he does. It’s Tarek. It’s like I maybe smell him, or sense him, I don’t know how it works, but my body tingles.
“I see you have a protégé with you this planet rotation.” His voice is deep and sexy, just like I remembered.
“Yes.” I keep my voice cool as I toss the ball.
Braxton catches it even though I was way off.
“From the looks of it, he surpasses your skills. You are clearly a far better instructor than student.” He’s standing stiffly, staring at Braxton.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was almost… afraid of the young. He’s acting like it’s a wild vipn there instead of a toddler.
“That is not very motivational, Tarek. I’d have expected more from Zandia’s top nav trainer.”
I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes, turning to look at him. “I hope you don’t talk to all your hopeful trainees like that.”
His lips twitch. “Of course not, Zina, I flower them with sweet feminine compliments. The best way to train warriors is to coddle them.” He’s still focused on the child. I wonder what his sensors are telling him.
“I’m sorry I brought him in,” I say, even though I’m not. “We were early, so I told his mother I could play with him in here.”
“Yes… we’ll be discussing that.”
A shiver of excitement runs through me at his authoritative tone.
“You should have asked first. This dome can be dangerous, Zina.” He frowns at me. “If we had one of the training sets up, he could injure himself on the test weapons. Not to mention this dome is anything but young-proofed.” He glances around. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a young in here.”
“Can he stay for now until his mother returns? It will be just a few minutes?” I examine the surroundings carefully. “I don’t see anything fatal-ish.”
“If you maintain control over him.” He sounds reluctant. “And I mean total control.”
“Of course. He won’t impact my training either,” I promise. “He’s very good.”
“I’m not sure anything could be a hindrance to your training,” he says drily, setting up the computer screen. “Because based on your performance, there is no way to go but up.”
Ha. At least he’s relaxing a bit. I realize that having a child in here was maybe not the most sensitive thing I could do, based on his reaction to even talking about children the last time we were together. And I suppose he’s right about the safety thing. But it’s too late now.
Maybe it will be good for him. Show him that children aren’t so scary.
I argue. “I need another chance. I was not performing at my best.”
He clears his throat. “It’s said that humans are one of the more optimistic species in the galaxy. You are nothing if not a prime example of your kind.”
But he still told me to come back. If I’m that awful, why is he bothering to assess me? Zandians are efficient. Don’t waste time. So, he must want me here in some capacity, right? Probably the same capacity I’m hoping it’s for.
Braxton comes over, intrigued, and wraps an arm around my leg. He peeks out to look at Tarek.
“Large warrior,” he observes.
“Yes, he is. Large and very skilled. And handsome, too, don’t you think?”
“Compliments will get you nowhere, little human,” Tarek says, but he appears amused.
“Very good detail orientation.” I stroke Braxton’s head between the tiny horns. “Maybe he can teach you some moves.”
“I don’t think so.” Tarek turns his back.
“Well, then I can teach you, once I learn them.”
Tarek mutters something. It sounds sort of like, “Not likely.”
“What’s that?” I step closer, pulling Braxton along gently like an extra limb. He giggles.
“I said, I’m going to get this next program set up for you. We’ll see how you do this planet rotation.”
“Excellent. I plan to beat my score from last week.”
He coughs. “I hope you are capable of doing that.”
“I’m bringing it this planet rotation.” My voice is lower and huskier, and I remember what I brought last time. What he did to me. How I loved it.
“Good.” His voice is low, too, and sensuous.
Stars, but how I want to toss that computer out the door and grab him and beg him to make love to me. I mean, not with the young watching—once his
mother fetches him, of course.
Speaking of his mother, Kara is back, her satchel full of fruit.
“Oh, Zina, thanks a million stars.” She holds out her arms for Braxton, but he turns away and darts behind me. “Sweetling, we need to leave now so I can head to the ag planning meeting.”
“No. Boring meeting!” Braxton screams it. “I stay with Zina. And him.” He points to Tarek.
Wow. He’s maybe not the most well-behaved child, but who am I to judge? He does certainly have good taste.
“We’re just novel,” I apologize, in case Kara is offended.
But she is not. She laughs.
I’m fascinated. Watching mothers in action—mothers who do not answer to slave masters, is exhilarating and complicated and so different from anything I’ve experienced. It’s nice.
“Maybe I can keep watching him,” I say, checking Tarek’s face to see how he responds.
He clenches his jaw and scowls. “Or maybe not this planet rotation,” I add hastily. “Since my training session is about to start, and I certainly don’t wish to inconvenience Tarek.”
“Braxton needs to learn patience, too.” Kara scoops him up and tickles him with her hair and he screeches with laughter, happy once again. “But if you can watch him again some other time maybe?” She looks at me, hopeful. “Before your session? Would that work?”
“It’s a date.” I wink at her. “Bye, Braxton.”
When they leave, Tarek crosses his arms. “You are taking liberties.”
“Someone has to.” I cross my arms too.
“Excuse me?” His horns stiffen.
“It just seemed the right thing to do.” I step forward. “What do you want me to do?”
A beat goes by, and I swear he wants to say something so dirty and depraved that I’ll turn red and attack him with desire.
“We’re going to try the program again,” he says instead, although his eyes burn with some kind of energy.
“Oh, great. I am so excited about that.” I flex my fingers. “I’ve been practicing.”
“You have? How?” He steps closer to me. “Please explain.”
“I’ve been stretching my hands. And blinking a lot.”
“A true warrior, by the stars.” He laughs.
“If I don’t improve by twenty-five percentage points this planet rotation, you can…”
“I can what?” He’s even closer now, and his voice is low and dangerous.
“Maybe you can teach me a lesson about how it’s important to practice more.” I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m intoxicated by his scent, his proximity.
He chuckles. “Oh, little human, I plan to teach you more than that.” He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “I can promise you that.”
My belly fills with desire and I hold back a gasp. Please, please…
But he steps back. “Sit down, Zina. I trust you remember the big red button from last time?”
“I remember everything.”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. I tap the button. “Every. Single. Thing.”
“Excellent. It’s a bare minimum, an eidetic memory, for a top-notch nav. Focus.”
He’s too close, but I stare at the screen and tap as the asteroids fly by, following the prompts on the bar telling me to dodge left, right, swivel around, go backwards.
Before I know it, an hour has gone by and my eyes are tired.
“Okay, I’m done.” I stand up and rub my temples. “How’d I do? Did I improve?” I turn my head to see the screen, but he’s somehow blanked out my scores.
“We’ll discuss your score in a bit. But first we need to have a conversation about your insubordination, inviting the child in here without permission. That requires… a correction.”
“It does?” My heart picks up speed—whether it’s trepidation or excitement, I can’t be sure. “But I apologized.”
“So you did. And yet the protocol remains.”
My pussy clenches. All my fantasies about him being my master—punishing me with his whip and his tongue—come flooding to the forefront of my mind.
I glance at the screen, but he closes it with a swipe of his hand. “Later.”
Maybe it’s some perverse form of flirtation, but I push him. “Come on, just tell me. Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“Zina…”
I grab at his wrist. “I deserve the results. Show me.”
Stars, his arm is like iron. He holds his forearm at chest level, and as I grab at it, even putting my whole weight onto his arm—tucking my knees up like I’m ready to do a pull-up, he doesn’t budge. My whole body is hanging from his forearm and he’s not even trembling. “Give me the numbers!” I exclaim, panting.
“Are you done?”
Stars, he’s sexy when he’s stern. I lower my feet to the ground. “Um, yes?”
I know I’ve crossed the line. It was a move you'd pull with a lover, a mate, not a trainer— even one whose gaze smolders. Even one who vecked you hard just a week ago.
“I’m sorry?”
“You will be.” His tone is conversational but his face is serious. “Zina, I am your master here and you’re overstepping.”
I bite my lip. “Are you going to punish me?” I try not to sound so hopeful.
His eyes turn a deeper purple, the brown fading out. His horns lengthen and tilt in my direction. “Yes, I need to reprimand you.” His voice is smoky.
“You need to?” I repeat, breathless.
“I want to.”
Heat pools between my legs. My pulse picks up speed.
“Go over to that wall and fetch the leather strap.” He points. “It’s hanging beside the other tools.”
I balk. I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this male. My whole body fills with adrenaline. “Oh. Stars.” I can’t seem to move.
“If you delay, it only adds more strokes. You’re starting with fifteen. I’d go quickly, if I were you. But it’s your ass.” He smiles, a wicked masterful grin. My nipples go hard as Zandian crystal. My pussy drips. “You want more, I can oblige.”
I walk over, slowly. There are a multitude of things hanging on the wall, most of which I don’t understand and are probably for fixing flight equipment. This strap, though, in the corner— surely that's not used for navigation? Why is it even here?
I take it off the hook. It’s supple and firm. I shudder with a mixture of anxiety and desire. Is he really going to use this on me?
“The planet rotation’s not getting shorter, Zina.” His voice rolls over me, low and seductive. “Put it in my hand. And take off your dress.”
Stars. I’m going to combust right now, just from his tone. It’s like honey and sex mixed together with dominance.
“What if someone comes in?”
“We’re alone. And I’ve locked the doors. It’s just you and me, Zina. Get that dress off. If I have to help, I’m adding extras with the strap.”
In a trance, I walk up to him. Put the leather into his huge purple palm. I look up into his sightless eyes and pull the stretchy material down over my shoulders, past my hips, and let it pool at my feet. I’m naked underneath except for a pair of gossamer panties. I have no idea what his sensors show him, but when I glance at his thighs and see how hard his cock is, I know he must like it.
I smile and bite it back. “What now?”
“Bend over this seat.” Without waiting, he grabs me up. I squeal and kick in surprise as he carries me effortlessly to a hover seat in the corner. “Get comfortable… for now, anyway.”
He helps me adjust, folded at the waist with my hands resting on the seat, pulls my panties down and off so that my bare ass is presented for his punishment. “And don’t try to get away.”
We’re both breathing hard.
“Don’t spank me too hard. I don’t deserve it.” How did my voice get so husky?
“You deserve every vecking spank I’m about to lay on your pretty ass,” he retorts. “And more. Consider yo
urself lucky that I’m a lenient master.”
With that, he brings the strap down across my ass cheeks.
“Ouch.” I gasp. It’s hard, fierce, like a line of bee stings. “That hurts.”
“Yes.” He does it again.
I dance from foot to foot. This isn’t nearly so sexy as when he slapped with his hand. “Tarek, I said ouch.”
He spanks again, right at my sit spots, and I pull hard to get away, but his other arm—the one not spanking me, is like iron. He holds me in place. “Let's discuss why I’m doing this.” He spanks again, in the same spot.
Being naked, him spanking me, is an incredible turn on but it hurts more than I expected. “But it hurts more than last time!” I struggle again, in vain.
“As it should, because your behavior,” he spanks me again, “has degraded. First, when we are in formal training, you are to treat me with the respect due to a commanding officer. You do not grab me or demand results.”
He drops the strap and uses his hand to land a flurry of spanks across both cheeks. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.” But I think about the expression on his face when I hung off his arm, shocked and surprised—and pleased—and angry all at once, and I’m pretty sure I’m lying. Because if I can get that kind of personal reaction I’d do it over and over again.
“You also brought a young into the dome without permission.” He continues spanking with his hand. I’m grateful for this, although his hand is barely less punishing than the strap. Maybe it’s worse… but I love the feel of his palm on my skin, even if he’s reddening my ass with each brief contact.
“But you said it was okay.” I stamp my feet at the burn that’s beginning to rise up on my body.
“After the fact. It’s disrespectful to make that kind of decision without permission, not just to me, but to the captain and any other trainees. And potentially dangerous for the young, as well.”
Now he sounds serious. And I have a twinge of genuine remorse. He’s right. A training dome is no place for a young, not ordinarily.
“There could have been dangerous equipment around. He could have hurt himself. Or damaged important things. Domes are not child-proofed, Zina. You know that.”