Surrender (3 page)

The servants returned to clear the table and serve Merokk a customary tall goblet of Kall wine. It tasted much like many varieties of Earth wine, but the alcohol content made it more comparable to the strong liquor humans tended to serve in shot glasses. The warmth from the first sip rushed through his center and filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.

He leaned back and glanced down at Betsy, still in her place and gazing at the floor. “Did you learn your lesson, little one?” Her head shot up, but she didn’t answer. A small smile formed on his lips. “Come here.” He placed the goblet on the table, freeing his hands so he could pull her into his lap. Her hair smelled like flowers, such a universal scent no matter which planet one called home. He wrapped his arms around her center, forcing her to lean into his broad chest.

The dining room darkened as the sun slipped completely behind the buildings. Merokk didn’t bother increasing the lights. For the moment, he was quite content to hold his unenthusiastic bride-to-be in his arms. Perhaps the ambassadorship and arranged marriage wouldn’t be the end of his happiness and glory. His battle days had ended, but he’d come out on top, having never lost a fight. He would be kept busy on Earth. Life wouldn’t grow dull, and he’d have Betsy to come home to each night. Teaching her to be a dutiful wife would have its benefits.

Chapter Three

An assortment of feelings at odds surged through Fiona as Merokk held her close on his lap. One moment she despised his touch, and the next moment she yearned to bury her head deeper against his chest and seek refuge in his strong arms. His words about the dishonor of marrying an enemy stayed on the forefront of her mind. She’d foolishly believed Crooked Teeth, about the arranged marriages, that they were political unions meant to forge peace. How could peace be forged when these marriages seemed more like punishment than part of a truce?

She resolved to keep her opinions to herself in the future, no matter what her union with Merokk symbolized. Her job was to play Betsy Carson and keep him happy. Mouthing off like she’d done earlier wasn’t smart, especially when the marriage hadn’t taken place yet. Pissing him off beforehand was a mistake she had to rectify, but the thought of kneeling on the floor again to beg his forgiveness brought tears to her eyes. She blinked the moisture back. Would the pain caused by this nightmare fade in the passing years? Could she hope to forgive Merokk for being a Kall, the very thing she’d spent every breathing moment despising for the past six months? Earth would’ve attacked a weaker alien race for the same crimes, intentional or not, committed against the Kall because of the miners who accidently blew up two Kall towns. Perhaps he wasn’t such a monster and his people weren’t so dissimilar from her own. This thought alone brought her comfort.

“Have some wine.”

She lifted her head, gazing into his eyes as he held the goblet to her lips. The drink burned hot in her belly, though it was sweet going down. She took a few swallows and enjoyed the immediate lightheadedness it produced. “Thank you,” she whispered, gracing him with a genuine smile. She was truly grateful for the effect the drink had on her mind.

His kindness tapped at the locked door guarding her heart, reminding her of the persistent loneliness she’d endured for years at her own choosing. But maybe it was okay to let Merokk inside. He would be her husband. There was no changing that unless she confessed her real identity, an unlikely prospect when her mother’s fate rested in her hands. She could care less about what happened to the Earth officials if the Kall found her out, but she’d do everything in her power to keep her mother safe.

She heard the goblet click down on the table, and Merokk rose with her gathered in his arms. She laced her arms around his neck. No man, save for her father when she’d been young, had carried her before. Inhaling the spicy, masculine scent that clung to Merokk, she pressed her cheek against the coarse fabric of his shirt and closed her eyes. His footsteps sounded in the corridor as he carried her to her temporary room, sitting her upright on the bed.

“Good night, little one,” he said, running his hand along her neck before turning toward the door.

“Wait!” Fiona jumped up. He turned, his curiosity obvious. Without overthinking it, she rushed forward and knelt on the floor at his feet, bowing her head. She’d offended him, even though she’d spoken her true thoughts. He could’ve beaten her or reported her disobedience to the president, but he hadn’t. While forcing her to kneel as he fed her dinner had been a humiliating punishment for her crime, the punishment itself no longer angered her. It had brought them closer, though she couldn’t put the reason into words. “I’m sorry for the cruel things I said. Thank you for teaching me a lesson.” The apology fell from her lips more easily than she’d imagined, and to her shock it didn’t taste like a bitter lie.

She stared at his massive black boots and swallowed hard, waiting for his reaction. If he decided to hurt her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. The self-defense class she’d taken at the community college to satisfy her physical education credits didn’t apply in this situation. Sure, she could probably move fast enough to kick a human man in the balls and get a head start, but Fiona wasn’t so certain this worked with aliens. Earth had made contact with dozens of intelligent alien species over the last fifty years, but she’d never paid much attention to news stories about their varying anatomies. For all she knew, Merokk’s balls were located in his stomach. Suddenly, she found herself lifted up and peering into his amused eyes.

“You’re forgiven, little one.” He paused and his expression grew hard. “You must never speak to me that way again. I promise the next time you do, your punishment will be much more severe.”

Fiona felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “You’re going to beat me, then? Abuse me?” She stiffened in his arms. How bad would it be to experience physical violence at his hands? Would it be any different from the times her father had come home drunk and decked her mother? She doubted it and resolved to remain on Merokk’s good side. Her mother hadn’t been good enough for her father, crippled by a mental illness he didn’t understand. Now Fiona was at the mercy of an alien warrior who probably loathed humans as much as her father loathed her mother.

“Betsy, I think we need to get this over with.” He guided her toward the bed, and she soon found herself lying stomach down over his lap. She struggled to rise up as panic shot through her senses at light speed.

“Let me up!” Cool air rushed against her legs as he moved her dress up. She fought to escape but Merokk effortlessly grasped her wrists in one hand, pinning them at the small of her back. One of his legs wrapped around hers and she couldn’t move an inch, let alone escape his firm hold.

“I doubt anyone taught you about Kall sexual practices, did they?” The only thing between her bottom and his free hand was a pair of thin panties, and his touch caused a shiver to course down her spine. And somehow, despite her fear of the unknown, the atmosphere in the room sizzled with excitement.

She visualized the boring reporters who’d droned on and on about different alien cultures and, to her dismay, came up empty. “No, no one taught me anything. I already told you I didn’t expect the marriage to even be consummated.” She kept her voice calm, hoping her good behavior would still his hand. It was hard to believe he would spank her after her heartfelt apology—and it had been heartfelt. Not like the first apology, which had been forced and false.

He rubbed her bottom and said, “The last Earth woman I was intimate with on the Kall homeworld said it reminded her of something humans call b-s-d-m.” He spoke the letters slowly, as if trying to place them in correct order, but Fiona knew better—though not from personal experience.

“You mean BDSM?” she asked warily.

“Yes, BDSM. That sounds right.” He kept caressing her with his palm. “I would never really hurt you, Betsy. I will not abuse you. I want to earn your trust.” The tenderness in his voice warmed her heart. What she wouldn’t give to hear him use her name—her real name.

Where did that thought come from? They weren’t married yet, couldn’t seem to keep from arguing, and she was pretty certain he was about to spank her. And he was a Kall. She was supposed to hate him. What difference did it make what name he used to address her?

“Will you let me up?” she asked in a hoarse voice. Her thoughts and feelings were too twisted up for her to be able to articulate anything else. She wanted Merokk to leave her alone so she could curl up under the covers and hide until morning. But his hand kept moving over her bottom cheeks, massaging, squeezing, and becoming more familiar with her body with each passing second.

“I don’t think so, little one. I like you right where I have you.”

* * *

A heady sense of power coursed through Merokk as he held Betsy firmly over his lap. He wanted her to fear him, but only a little. A healthy dose of fear, nothing over the top. Too much fear would only breed hatred in her heart. He hoped the action he was about to take would ease some of her concerns. The worst punishment she could expect from him was a sound strapping—and only when it was truly deserved.

A day ago he’d been reluctant to meet his bride-to-be, but now he was seriously considering having his way with her a little early. They were practically strangers, but he’d felt a spark ignite between them the moment their eyes locked in the great room inside the White House. He swallowed hard and his jaw tensed as his eyes swept over the curves of her bottom. No. He’d promised to leave her untouched for one more day. If he went back on his word, earning her trust would be a few degrees harder.

“This is just for fun, Betsy—to give you a taste of what I like in the bedroom. But it’s also meant to serve as a reminder of what will happen when you disobey me. Your punishment in those cases will be much more severe.” He ignored her quick intake of breath and delivered a slap to her bottom. He gave her a dozen more light blows, taking the time to rub her overtop her panties in between each smack. She struggled at first but soon gave up, probably once she realized it wasn’t that bad. Would she ever find this as erotic as he did? His rock-hard erection pressed against the front of her thighs. Pulling her panties down, he absorbed the sight of her bare, reddened bottom.
So lovely.
She gasped and stiffened in his hold, and Merokk recognized the unmistakable scent of Betsy’s arousal, sweet and pungent and uniquely female.

Despite her protests, the spanking had managed to kindle her desire. His spirits soared, and his cock hardened further. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to plunge inside her at this moment. Taking a deep a breath, he slid his hand between her thighs.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!” The panic in her voice stilled his hand.

“I can smell you, Betsy. I’m only going to feel how wet you are. We won’t consummate our marriage until tomorrow night, I promise.”

“I—I’m not wet. Please let me up.”

Ignoring her last plea, Merokk slid his fingers along the slit of her pussy lips. She gasped and jerked her body, but he rewarded her with a warning slap on the inside of her upper thigh. “Be a good girl and hold still.” He explored further, parting her folds to discover her soaking wet center. He groaned. “Oh, Betsy.”

“Please,” she whimpered.

“Please what?” His fingers moved to circle her hardened nub of flesh—the place he knew would give her the most pleasure. Thank the stars for curious female Earth tourists.

“Oh!” she squealed. “Let me up, now!”

“I don’t think so, Betsy. I think you like this.” He gathered her juices from her core and spread them over her clit, rubbing her pleasure spot with precise motions. After a while she succumbed, grinding against his hand. As soon as she did it, she stilled and cursed under her breath. “Was that foul language I heard?” He removed his hand from her sweetness and gave her bare behind one hard swat. Fuck, the things this woman did to him.

Reluctantly, Merokk sat her up in his lap. She stared at him with large, questioning eyes. Her flushed face betrayed her state of arousal even more, and the scent of her wet pussy remained heavy in the air. Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough, and he realized with a glimmer of arrogance that he wasn’t the only impatient party in the room.

“Do you want me to make you come, Betsy?” When she didn’t answer after a few beats, he added, “Your pleasure belongs to me and me only. You aren’t permitted to touch yourself. If you do, you’ll sorely regret it.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she looked away. “Yes, please.” The shame in her voice alarmed Merokk, and he forced her to meet his gaze.

“Never be ashamed of your responses to me, Betsy. Pleasure in the marriage bed is a beautiful thing.”

“We’re not married yet,” she reminded him.

He smiled. “Yes, but I think it would be criminal of me to leave you in this—state you’re in.”

Her eyes danced with a hint of laughter, and she sighed. “Point taken.”

Merokk lifted her briefly in his arms before laying her down on the bed. Her dress remained gathered at her waist and her panties were bunched at her knees. Tugging them off, he pulled her shoes off with them and tossed everything to the floor. For a moment he considered ordering her to get completely naked but quickly dismissed the idea. One glimpse of her bare breasts would be his undoing. Tomorrow.

His eyes locked with hers just before his head settled between her thighs. His tongue darted out, trailing a wet line along her slit, teasing and savoring her juices. She smelled and tasted divine, and he knew bringing Betsy to climax with his mouth would be his new favorite pastime. She groaned and writhed on the bed as he slipped two thick fingers deep inside her slick entrance. Oh, she was tight and hot. His tongue glided between her pussy lips, and he began a steady thrusting rhythm with his fingers, fucking her as he lapped at her clit. She was on fire, grinding against his mouth and unabashedly running her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, panting heavily as he continued his assault between her thighs.

Merokk knew her release was close. He pushed a third finger into her channel, increasing the pace of thrusts. His tongue swirled rapidly around her swollen bud, and he soon felt her contract around his fingers as her whole body shuddered. He continued his ministrations until her writhing and moaning stopped, milking every last wave of pleasure from her body. Curling up next to her atop the covers, he waited for her senses to return. As she came back to life, her eyes sought his and she smiled sweetly.

“Merokk, I—”

“Hush.” He placed a finger over her lips, stilling her speech. “Let’s get you ready for bed. We have big day tomorrow.”