Claimed by the Zandian Page 5

  “You like that?” I whisper.

  “Yes.” She wiggles and opens her legs wider, letting her injured one slope down off my lap. “Don’t you?”

  “Oh, I vecking love it. Ask me to remove your clothing if you want more.”

  “Remove my clothing,” she whispers, yanking my suit.

  I flip her over and slap her ass, hard. “Ask nicely.”

  “Ouch!” she cries out, but it's more from surprise than pain.

  “Oh, I might have forgotten to mention, little human.” I spank her again, just as hard. “We Zandians like to give our females the right incentive to obey.” I give her a few sharp spanks on her upper thighs. “Just. Like. This.”

  “Ow, stop it!” She twists and my facial recognition sensors tell me she’s glaring. But oh, I can smell her arousal getting stronger by the second. And her heartbeat is faster. This human likes what I’m doing. She just isn’t ready to submit.

  “I’ll stop if you do what I want,” I tell her. Then I smack her ass again for good measure.

  She’s breathing hard. “Remove my clothing… please.”

  I reward her with a few strokes between the legs. “I want to hear you beg.” I spank her again.

  I know it can’t hurt much through the thick trousers, but I figure she feels a little sting. She wriggles and pushes her hips up as if she wants more. Veck, I’ve heard that humans like their discipline, but I’ve never actually been intimate with one of them. My experiences have been off planet with pleasure workers of other species.

  I’d never want to really hurt Zina, especially not now when she’s just been rescued. But veck if I don’t want to spank her until her ass is pink and she’s crying out with need for my cock. Telling me she’ll do whatever I want.

  “I beseech you…” Her voice is breathy. “Take off my clothes. Touch me. Please. It feels so good.”

  “Glad to oblige.” In a moment, I rip the fabric of her pants and pull them down her narrow hips, tossing the garment aside. Her jacket and undershirt go next. Her thighs are lean and strong, and as I run my fingers over her skin, I find she’s already so wet that her dewy moisture is slick between her legs.

  “Veck, Zina,” I curse, and tap her clit gently, so softly she can probably barely feel it.

  She responds as if I hit her with a burst of lightning. “Tarek!” She twists her body and contorts it, trying to get her clit back to my finger. “Oh, sweet Mother Earth.”

  I hold her in place. This will be fun. I’m going to tease her mercilessly before I let her come—show her who’s in charge. Make her want it more than anything she’s ever wanted in her life.

  Zina

  I’m naked on his lap and I want more. I want to feel him, touch him, have his body in mine. I’ve never done this before but it’s like my body knows what to do. And I’ve heard from other humans how the mechanics work, of course.

  I shouldn’t be doing this, but after all I’ve been through? Mother Earth, it’s magnificent to just—feel good. To let my mind shut off and my body experience pleasure. I’m ready to cry with how beautiful it feels to be caressed this way, to feel touch from a being who wishes to bring me pleasure, not pain.

  He won’t take off my cuffs, and it’s driving me mad with desire. He’s driving me mad.

  “Ah!” I cry out, my mind going black, then filling with color. He strokes me now, his fingers so expertly touching and gliding that I think I’m about to die. A feeling rises in my belly that rivals anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve touched myself before, in bed at night, but it’s never felt this good. This powerful.

  “Shhh, not yet,” he whispers. “I’m just getting started.”

  “No,” I moan. I love it and hate it. I want this sensation to go on forever; I need it to grow and explode, because if he holds me here in this range I’m going to die with need.

  “Ah, but humans don't say no to their Zandian masters,” he chides. And before I can respond, he pulls me to the side and spanks my ass a few times.

  “Ouch,” I gasp, but although it stings, I like it. Maybe even love it. Is that depraved? I don’t like being punished by a cruel overlord who wields a shock stick. But this intimate mixture of pleasure-pain is something altogether different.

  I don’t sense any cruelty in him. And he actually seems to want my pleasure. He pushes a finger between my thighs, into my core, and strokes. I nearly ignite.

  “Tarek,” I beg.

  “Like this?” he does it again. Again. Then, to my surprise, he slides a finger lubricated with my juices into my back hole.

  “Eep.” I squeak in alarm and clench my buttocks, but release my muscles a second later when he strokes my pussy again.

  “It’s okay, you’ll like this,” he promises.

  And he’s right. With a finger in my pussy and another in my ass, his hands working my body, I start to build to that glorious pinnacle that’s waiting for me, just beyond my vision. I close my eyes and almost sob as he increases the pressure on my skin, little by little.

  I’m sweating and completely wet between the thighs and I don’t care. I love it.

  I feel his cock beneath my body. “Uncuff me,” I beg. “I can touch you too. Give you pleasure in return.”

  He continues to stroke my body. “Tell me you want to come,” he demands. “If you ask nicely, I’ll give you permission.”

  “I don’t want to ask for that.” In the middle of my passion, I feel the burn of irritation at his ownership.

  “Then you don’t get what you want.” He pulls his fingers from my body.

  I feel so lost and empty without his touch. “No, please.” I beg immediately, widening my legs. “Please. I’ll ask you. Please touch me, make me come.”

  “You’ll let me own you like this? Control your pleasure? Anytime I want?” He pinches my clit softly, then strokes. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  I give up all control. “Yes, yes, just please.”

  “Ask me to spank you. Then I’ll let you come.”

  “Please spank me.” I say it without reservation, and the truth is that I want that burn on my ass. I like the way it feels. I like his ownership of my body, because what he’s doing right now—so skillfully and masterfully—is also enacted with precision and care.

  “Anytime, Zina.” He maneuvers me so that my ass points up to the ceiling of the craft, and he spanks me again, again, again. Each smack makes me burn hotter until I can’t stand it.

  I utter a strangled cry, and he seems to know just what I mean.

  “Then come.” His hands are back at my ass and pussy, and he works me like magic, and my mind and body explode in a symphony of pleasure so abrupt and magnificent that I cry out over and over again.

  Tarek

  She lies on my lap, exhausted, panting, bathed in sweat and arousal. Her nipples are taut with pleasure, and I bend down and suckle them as she comes down from her peak.

  She smiles and gives a moan of pleasure and her eyelids flicker. Her cuffed hands rest on her flat stomach. “That was… I don’t even have words.”

  I can sense the relaxation emanating from her body. It’s like the tension, fear and anger have dissipated, leaving her loose for the very first time since I’ve known her. And it feels good to know that I gave that to her.

  I’d pleasured her while she was bound, and that thought turns me on even more. My cock is like iron. I want nothing more than to bend her over the sleep disk and bury myself in her tight pussy—

  My comm crackles. “Tarek, report to the bridge.”

  Excrement.

  I realize where I am and what I’ve done. Here we are on a rescue mission to save a human child, and I—the navigator in charge—took a break to veck a human.

  I wince.

  Of course, I have a backup in the bridge. And naturally they’d have called me in an emergency. But what the veck am I thinking, losing my mind and my control like this?

  Even if I’ve brought her pleasure, there is no way I should have touched her at all! Veck.
What a mess I’m making of things. Every being knows how sensitive and emotional humans can be, how easily they bond. I probably won’t see or have contact with the delectable human once we land on Zandia. We would have no reason to interact, and there’s no way King Zander will grant me—with my genetic defect—a valuable breeder as a mate. And yet I may have just forged an emotional attachment with her. On her part.

  Not on mine. I can’t get attached.

  I frown, not liking the way my chest tightens with these thoughts. I slide Zina from my lap and place her beside me. Her clothes are ripped—she’ll need them replaced.

  I tap my comm. “Jass, bring another flight suit for human Zina. Place it in the passthrough.”

  “Affirmative.” If Jass has any suspicion of why the current suit is presently unsuitable, he does not betray it in his tone. In a few seconds, the new garments appear.

  I get up and shake out the folds. “Here.” My voice is gruff as I hand them to Zina. I adjust my cock, which is uncomfortably tight in my breeches. I did not get pleasure myself, and it’s not like I can go masturbate in the corner. Veck.

  She raises her cuffed hands. “I can’t.”

  I unlock the cuffs from each other, but leave them affixed to each wrist. “Don’t attack anyone else, or these will get activated again.” I know my tone is too harsh for what just happened. What shouldn’t have happened. I just couldn’t resist her.

  “I should go back to Enya.”

  Does she regret what we did, too? Worse, does she think it somehow means a promise of— fidelity? Mating? I don’t know how humans think. And even if I wanted her badly—still do—I can’t offer her anything.

  “Right.” I clear my throat, reaching out to touch her arm. “I enjoyed what we did, Zina. Very much. But I won’t be your master or mate, so… it’s—it can’t happen again.”

  Her brow furrows, but she shrugs. “Okay.”

  I figure she’s just saying that to make the conversation go away. But that’s acceptable. Because I can never touch her that way again.

  “It was—I wanted to—I just…” I don’t know what I want to say. “Make you feel good. But I didn’t want to give you expectations.”

  “I did feel good.” Her voice holds a smile. But then it fades out on the next sentence. “But I don’t have expectations.” She pulls the flight pants closer and starts to put them on. She winces as her bad leg goes in.

  “Are you in pain?” Despite the fact that I just promised myself I didn’t care about her, I immediately bend down to touch her leg, but stop when she pulls it away.

  “I’m fine. It’s fine.” She quickly pulls up her pants. “Well, I have one expectation. Just one. That you Zandians let me keep taking care of Enya.” She fastens the pants at the waist. “I’m like... her mother, Tarek.” Her voice softens. “The only one she’s known. And you know what? That’s good enough for me. I’m happy taking care of her.” She touches my arm. “I want to keep doing that.”

  A cold feeling starts to move through my chest. I already know that they’re planning to take Enya straight to med isolation and then to meet and bond with her biological mother. I don’t believe they’re keeping Zina with her during this. It kills me that I can’t tell her. “Well, I’m sure everything will be done to help you both recover,” I say, which is true.

  My sensors catch a micro-expression, something of doubt, mistrust. The same face she made on the bridge when we didn’t answer her questions about why we were searching for Enya.

  I speak quickly so she doesn’t ask me questions I can’t answer. “On Zandia, if you are granted asylum, you can… choose a mate. Have children of your own.” Why does that idea fill me with anger and sadness? I know I’m not able to mate. And I don’t even want the hassle of handling a human. I can barely handle my own blind idiot body. I know she can’t be mine, so why would I even care?

  She shakes her head. “I’m damaged goods.” She touches her leg, through the breeches. And I’m sterilized.” She touches her belly. “I can’t have my own children.” She sticks up her chin. “But I’ve got Enya. I raised her, and she made living with this pain bearable for me.”

  She looks me straight on and adds, “She’s my life. Without Enya…” she whispers. “Without Enya, I have no reason to live.”

  A cold chill travels up my spine.

  “Tarek, you’re needed at the bridge,” my comm crackles, saving me from the difficulty of formulating a reply.

  I respond automatically. “Twenty seconds.” I turn to Zina, hoping that my stance conveys empathy, apology, whatever she needs to see.

  Surely Zina will handle the future... just fine. Right? She’s a tough human. A fighter.

  I raise my hand, a ridiculously sterile gesture, given the nature of what we just did. What I did to her. But I can’t give her more.

  “Good luck,” I tell her, and then I turn my back and stride out of the bay.

  Chapter 5

  Zina

  “Where’s Enya?” I sit up, my heart pounding, my head throbbing with pain.

  I push off the unfamiliar cover—soft and airy, and struggle to my feet, eyes squinting as they adjust to the soft bright light. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the human barracks. Your new dormitory. Hi. I’m Abbi.” A human woman swims into focus as I blink and rub the stickiness from my eyes. “I’m here to help you acclimate and adjust. Make sure you’re okay.”

  I don’t care about her. I turn my head abruptly, checking all around me—my child is gone. My stomach flutters with terror and my head turns to lead. “Please, Enya needs me.”

  I sit back down as the room starts to tilt, just a little, but enough to throw me off balance.

  “She’s fine. Take this,” Abbi encourages, darting forward with a fluid tube. “Give yourself a moment. You’ve been sleeping for over twenty-seven hours.”

  “What? Why?” I put my hand to my head and rub, wishing the stabbing pain would subside. “My head is splitting apart.”

  “Probably the adjustment to our atmosphere. It’s pretty much the same as you’re used to, but still, your body needs to adapt. Plus, you’re still healing.”

  She touches my med pack, which flashes three greens and one yellow light. “See?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening.”

  She turns away and starts to bustle around, arranging some silver foil packets. “Are you hungry? I’ve been instructed to…”

  “No, just take me to Enya. She’s my family. I need to be with her.”

  “Um… that won’t be possible, right now.” She puts the packets down. “I’m so sorry.”

  I stand up and touch her shoulder. “You said she was doing fine.” I twist my hands together.

  “Oh, she is! Zina, this is great news. You’re going to be so happy. Enya is meeting her mother.” A beat. “Her birth mother.”

  Now the rooms really spins. My voice is weak. “Her birth mother? Here? On Zandia?” I sit down abruptly.

  “Yes. Bayla’s been waiting for this moment for many solar cycles. No one ever thought it would happen.”

  This was the thing they weren’t telling me on the ship. The reason they were searching for her specifically.

  It should be great news. It is great news. But for some reason, my body reacts with panic. I squeeze my hands together and my body is hot and cold at once.

  “I can’t believe this. It’s real?”

  “Yes. Her mother is mated with Dr. Daneth, the king’s royal physician, and she’s hoped for a reunion with her young for so long. Now that it’s happening, it’s a miracle!”

  “And they don’t want me there while she meets… her m-mother?” The word is hard to get out past the lump in my throat. Emotions swirl through me and I can’t focus. “Did Enya… not want me there?”

  Abbi looks away. “Um, it’s just that you were in med and then you needed your sleep and rest, and the delegation decided, well, that it might be easier for her to do the initial transition without you. Just so
she could meet her mother as soon as possible, you know?”

  “But I’ve—we’ve—never been apart. She’s like my own young, or a little sister.” I stand up and gesture. “Abbi, please. She might be scared, or in shock, or…” My heart pounds. “She needs me.”

  Abbi turns back and hesitates, maybe the sight of my expression is alarming her. “I’m so sorry, but I have instructions to, ah, not bring you to her.” She adds, “Not yet. Until we get approval.”

  I sit down, breathing heavily, head spinning. “No.”

  She touches my arm. “I’m told she’s doing fine. This is just temporary, until she gets over the first hurdle. You’ll see her again. And I know they’re all grateful to you for taking such good care of her. It’s obvious that she probably wouldn’t be alive, even, if not for you.” Abbi squeezes my fingers. “You’re like a hero.”

  I shiver, suddenly cold. “I’m not a hero, Abbi. I’m just a human who tried to survive in galactic slavery, like any other.”

  “Sometimes that’s true heroism.” She smiles at me, but I can’t respond in kind. Frankly, I don’t know what’s going on inside me right now. I should be happy for Enya, and her mother. But I can’t help but feel useless—like they’ve discarded me like trash that’s no longer necessary. I touch my leg.

  “You just need to rest some more, then we’ll start the process of getting you used to Zandia.” She grabs a luxurious spider-silk blanket—the kind only used by my former Ocretion master—and wraps it around my shoulders. I realize my clothing—a form-fitting gown—is also soft and luxurious. I’ve never felt such fabric against my skin before. Surely a species that shows me such kindness and welcome wouldn’t be lying about Enya. Would they?

  She pats my arm. “I know you’re used to bad things happening. But this place is good. We’re as good as free here. The Zandians are kind and benevolent. I promise you that.” She lowers her tone. “Every human female here has been through the initial adjustment, and we’ll help you.”