Zandian Masters

Chapter 2-2

“Yes, well, her vitals indicate stress.”

“It is not sufficient. She should be crying.”

“There are harsher methods of punishment, but they may cause permanent damage or excessive stress. We want her healthy for breeding.”

“Research it further. This isn’t working.”

“Note the color of her buttocks.”

His c**k stirred at the mention of her rather attractive posterior. As if he hadn’t noticed it already. Her skin had turned a mottled red where he’d disciplined her, and the flesh had already swollen.

“It worked, my lord. She is just stubborn.”

He pulled her roughly to stand, out of patience with her deceit, which made no logical sense. Why wouldn’t she simply cry and concede to him if the punishment had worked? “Put her in the cage.”

Daneth stepped back, as if too squeamish to lift her. He supposed there was some reluctance on his advisor’s part to get intimate with the human, if she belonged to Zander.

“Never mind,” he muttered. “I’ll do it.” He scooped her up. She was lighter than he expected. And softer. She smelled sweet, like some kind of flower, but not in an overpowering way. His horns stiffened and turned. His blood warmed. All right, apparently he could be attracted to a human.

couldThe truth was, he had little experience with females of any species. He’d been evacuated from his planet when he was a youth, and most of his species had been destroyed in the takeover. He’d experimented a bit with other species as he came into manhood, but Seke had advised him he scattered his energy in doing so—he should keep it for his training. He’d put off breeding until now.

But his slave needed reminding of her place. He’d have time enough to breed her later, if his irritation with her faded. He hefted her through the door of the cage, slamming the door shut behind her.

Unable to move much with both her wrists and ankles bound, she curled up on her side, with her back to him. He saw trembling in her buttocks and thighs. Yes, Daneth was right. The punishment must have had its effect. Too bad she hadn’t learned from it.

“I’ll leave you, my lord, unless you require anything else?”

“More information on discipline. That is all.”

Daneth bowed and left the room.

He flicked on his hologram and checked the daily reports on his trades.

A sniff sounded from the cage.

~.~

Her bottom was on fire. The Zandian prince’s hand had fallen like a paddle—stinging her flesh as well as leaving a deeper hurt below the surface—the kind that would leave lasting soreness. She’d kept her emotions at bay during the punishment, but now that it was over, tears leaked down her nose, dripped onto the finely woven carpet in her cage.

Yes, her cage had the nicest rug she’d ever seen. Well, apart from the one on Zander’s floor. The cage itself was polished hardwood—light in color. Not a wood from Earth—she was familiar with all of those from her work in agriculture. No, this was a very hard wood, sanded and polished until it gleamed. Zander’s entire space pod spoke of wealth and opulence. She’d never seen such finery—not even in the holograms she’d glimpsed over the guards’ shoulders back on the agrifarm. The rooms and corridors were shaped by domed walls, which were textured and colored in rich, happy shades of yellow, red, and purple. Prince Zander’s egg-shaped bed, draped in rich-hued silks, hovered a foot off the floor without any visible means of support. So did her cage. A skylight in the ceiling had a fist-sized crystal embedded in it, which seemed to provide all the natural light the chamber needed. Zander may have lost his planet—or, rather, his father had, if she knew her history—but he still lived like a king.

cage“Lamira.”

“Lamira.”It was the first time anyone had called her by her name since she’d been taken from the agrifarm.

The prince’s voice was deep and resonant. Commanding. As masculine as a voice got. It reached inside her and made something flutter in her belly.

She ignored the sensation and him.

He spun the cage so she faced him.

She attempted to roll to her back to change sides, but not before he’d seen her face.

“Now you’re crying.”

NowHis powers of observation were overwhelming.

“Why?”

She completed her roll to the other side, away from him.

He spun the cage back so she faced him once more. “Open cage,” he commanded, and the voice-activated lock clicked. To her, he said, “Come out.”

She didn’t move.

His tone went sharp. “Do not anger me a second time, Lamira.”

Well, apparently he’d already cowed her completely because his words went straight to her chest, creating a sudden tightening and sending her instantly into motion. She hated how easily he’d mastered her. One stupid s******g and she rushed to please him.

She sniffed back the tears and attempted to push up to her hands and knees—no easy feat with her wrists and ankles bound.

“Release wrist cuffs. Release ankle cuffs,” he commanded. They sprang apart but not off.

She backed out of the cage, toward the door, not sure how she would get out until his large hands grasped her waist and lifted her easily to the floor.

Where to look... Certainly not at the prince—her master—although his presence was more than commanding. He stood almost seven feet tall with thick, corded muscles across his chest and arms.

Moisture gathered between her legs.

He looked more warrior than prince. No, he was all king. A warrior king. Earlier, she’d stared at him boldly. Now she kept her eyes lowered, trained at his bare feet. They were no different from hers, except larger and with the brown-purple skin tone of the Zandians. She glanced at her own toes. They were cleaner than they’d ever been before. Even her toenails had been buffed to a glossy shine. How long had she been out?

The prince cupped her chin and lifted her face. His touch was gentler than she expected. She still couldn’t meet his gaze, choosing instead to stare at his thick neck and the part of his bare chest visible beneath his loose, finely woven white shirt. Her fingers itched to touch his skin, to find out if it was as smooth as it appeared. What a strange idea. She’d never thought about touching a male in her life. In fact, she’d avoided males as best she could. This one had her completely discombobulated.

Was his chest hairless? Did he have hair anywhere other than his head? Zander, Daneth, and the guards she’d seen outside all wore their hair shorn close to their skulls. Perhaps their horns got too hot otherwise.

When she’d first seen Daneth, she’d thought the horns ugly, but Zander’s suited him, somehow making him even more handsome.

He leaned forward and opened his mouth. She tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his gleaming teeth aimed straight for her cheek. For a moment, she thought he planned to bite her face, but his tongue flicked out, and he licked one of her tears. She caught his scent, a clean, masculine aroma with a slightly exotic spice.

Her n*****s tightened; her p***y pulsed. No—she definitely was not thinking about l*****g him back to see how he tasted.

He made a sound, almost as if he found the taste of her tears pleasant. “Why are you crying?”

She tried once more to pull away. Not succeeding, she averted her gaze. “I’m not.”

Zander switched his hand from her chin to her nape and yanked her up to her tiptoes, until her nose came within inches of his bent head. “Why do you lie?” he snapped. “I can see your tears with my own eyes.”

Her eyes filled and spilled again, her lips trembled. She hated crying like this. She shouldn’t act so weak. Her father was a revered revolutionary. She and her mother passed messages for the insurgents along a secret human network. But, now—n***d, bottom still pulsing with heat, face inches from his, she’d lost all dignity.

She lifted her bound wrists and rubbed them across her eyes. “It’s what I wish were true.”

He c****d his head. “You wish you were not crying?”

“Right.”

“Can you not stop?”

She blew air through her lips. “I thought you were supposed to be the superior species here. Is it so hard to understand?” She immediately wished she hadn’t spoken, because his face hardened and his fingers tightened on her neck.

“You will speak with respect.” His tone sliced through the air, ice-cold.

She flinched. For once, she swallowed back her pride and said the right thing. “Forgive me.”

He blinked as if he was considering whether to believe her. His grip on her nape eased, and he lowered her to her feet. Snapping his fingers, he pointed at the floor. “Kneel at my feet. I work here in my chamber. When I am here, that is the position you will assume.”

Everything about her rebelled at the dictate, but she managed to keep her mouth shut and hide her reaction. She dropped to the floor to assume the required pose. The cuffs on her ankles dug into the already raw flesh of her bottom. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since the morning she left the agrifarm. She didn’t know how long ago that was—how long she’d been unconscious—but her stomach said it had been a long time.

Prince Zander settled in a hover chair beside her and opened a hologram. She watched as he scrolled through numbers and opened messages. A light flashed in the upper right quadrant of the projection. “Connect Daneth.”

Daneth’s hologram projected into the room “My lord, my monitors indicate the human may require food already. Would you like me to take her to the kitchen? Or have something sent to your room?”

Zander’s gaze flicked down at her with impatience. “Is that why your stomach grumbles?”

She nodded. “Yes, my lord.” It cost her to speak to him with respect, but she even managed not to sound mocking. If those were the rules of this new life, she would follow them. It was the way her mother had kept them safe and together so long. Head down, feign compliance. Plan a revolution. Besides, she had bigger battles to pick—like avoiding the intended taking of her virginity.

He snatched up the leash and clipped it to her collar, jaw tight, disgust painted across his handsome face. “I’ll take her to the kitchen. How often does she require food?”

Daneth winced. “Two to three times a day. And they recommend she have liquids at all times. The lack of fluids may explain why her lips have cracked. I thought it might be our atmosphere, but that’s all compatible.”

He lifted her to her feet, using the leash, which caused her to choke.

“Ouch,” she protested, glaring.

He frowned and shook his head. “Fragile human,” he muttered, but her sixth sense registered guilt behind his frustration. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“How often do you eat?” she asked. There was accusation in her voice, or maybe it was defensiveness. Whatever it was, it offended the prince.