Read Surrender Online

Authors: Sue Lyndon

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Science Fiction, #General, #bdsm erotic romance, #Sci-Fi Romance

Surrender (4 page)

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Fiona had never felt more pampered. For the past several hours, a team of four female Kall beauticians had worked her over from head to toe. Their warm smiles and enthusiasm for the upcoming nuptials were contagious, and Fiona soon found herself at ease in their capable hands. They decided to keep her auburn hair down and tame its natural waves. Her fingers and toes were buffed and polished and painted red—because they claimed Kall males went nuts over Earth women with painted nails. Her skin had never felt smoother, and Fiona felt beautiful for the first time in forever. It was almost painless to pretend her real name was Betsy Carson, as long as she didn’t think of her mother.

“So, when did you first meet Merokk?” Romsha asked. Her accent was the most difficult to understand out of the four, but after a few hours Fiona could understand most of her words.

“Yesterday.” Fiona smiled politely at the Kall female brushing something powdery on her face.

“You’re a lucky woman,” said Temia. “You get to marry an ambassador and remain on your home planet.”

Leaving Earth. What a terrible thought. Fiona had no desire to leave America, let alone Earth. Maybe she was lucky. She nodded her agreement to Temia and tried desperately to sort out her muddled thoughts. Maybe the Kall weren’t the despicable, war-hungry aliens she’d first taken them for. Humans had enemy blood on their hands too. And even though Merokk claimed arranged marriage was a form of dishonor dealt to the losing side, the beauticians acted like it would be a joyful celebration.

“What’s wrong?” Shessa asked, looking up from where she was massaging Fiona’s feet. “You’re not nervous about tonight are you?”

Fiona blushed. “I’m not nervous about tonight.” She paused, her brows narrowed as she debated how to word her next question. “I—I was wondering about the arranged marriages. You all seem so excited about it. Do all the Kall feel this way every time a war ends and a bunch of forced marriages take place?”

“Forced marriages?” Elsy burst out laughing. “Betsy, almost all marriages on the Kall homeworld are arranged. This is no different, but it’s exciting because it signifies a new beginning. It’s only a sour event if the Kall are defeated and our females must marry another species. And in the history of our kind, that’s only happened twice, and a long time ago at that.”

“Oh.” Fiona relaxed, but she hoped humans never came into contact with the two alien races that had defeated the Kall.

Noon arrived and the wedding took place on the White House lawn as planned. Forty-five couples joined together in a ceremony that was, to Fiona’s relief, not only quick and to the point but performed in both English and Kall. An elaborate celebration feast followed in a massive, heated tent. Merokk seemed at ease among both his people and the humans, and he kept Fiona close to his side throughout the day. She tried hard not to think about the coming night, but her thoughts kept drifting to darker waters.

His tongue could do amazing things. God, that was the best orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her face heated as she remembered the spanking. She’d been terrified at first, but he hadn’t hurt her, not really. The masterful way his hands had rubbed her bottom in between the light smacks drove her wild. The unexpected waves of pleasure only grew as she surrendered, ceasing her struggles. She wouldn’t resist the next time.

The last Earth woman I was intimate with on the Kall homeworld said it reminded her of what humans call b-s-d-m.

You mean BDSM?

Last night’s conversation sprung into her mind and she couldn’t help but smile a secret smile as Merokk guided her outside the tent into the cool evening for a breath of fresh air. Fiona’s only escape from work and the 24/7 care of her mother had been in books, and her taste in books veered toward the erotic side. She’d read a few BDSM romances in her day. Okay, more than a few.

“We’re leaving now,” he whispered into her ear. His eyes burned with desire, and his hand gripped her forearm possessively.

“You just told your friends we’d be back in a few minutes,” Fiona replied, worried they would be breaking some kind of Kall social etiquette she wasn’t familiar with.

“I’m your husband.” He nipped her ear, and she drew in a quick breath. “I say we leave now.” His tone remained teasing but firm, and Fiona practically melted at his feet. His deep voice had her mesmerized and ready to agree to anything.

“Yes, sir,” she said breathily, gazing up at the former Kall warrior she now called husband.

He pressed a button on his shirtsleeve and his ship appeared, hovering across the lawn. Fiona gazed at its brilliant lights in wonder. “Our house will be ready soon, but until then I prefer to stay on my ship. It’s been my home these past six months,” he said.

These past six months
. His words pierced and twisted deep like a dull knife in her stomach. The war. The bloodshed. If he and his fellow Kall warriors hadn’t come to Earth in their ships, Fiona would be at home with her mother in New York, probably watching
Jeopardy!
right about now. Her hometown was gone though, blown to bits—or so she’d heard. Her friends were either dead or scattered. And Fiona was about to take the phrase
sleeping with the enemy
to a whole new level.

Wishing she’d consumed more champagne, she let Merokk lead her toward his ship. He’d done horrible things, and for her sanity’s sake she needed to forget, if only for a few hours. Being touched by him would be torture if she couldn’t. She hoped last night hadn’t been an anomaly. She’d enjoyed his touch then and fervently hoped the carnal desires he stirred within her would stamp out all doubt. Spending the past few hours with him during the wedding celebration hadn’t been so bad. She’d genuinely enjoyed Merokk’s company, but she worried perhaps it was a result of becoming swept up in the cheery atmosphere.

The boarding steps of the
Wannok
descended with a hum, and Merokk motioned for her to walk ahead of him. This was it. Her palms began to sweat, and she fisted them into her white wrap. Vaguely, she mused that she felt like a convicted criminal on her way to meet her death. Her nerves were on overdrive, and it was all she could do not to trip up the steps. How the hell would she make it to the bedroom without freaking out?

Merokk brushed up behind her at the top of the stairs and called out a command in his own tongue, a deeply guttural string of vocabulary Fiona doubted she would ever be able to understand. Thank goodness Betsy Carson hadn’t learned Kall, or she would’ve been screwed. Well, more screwed than she already was.

She turned and watched as the steps folded up into the ship, molding to the walls as the door sealed them inside. The corridor walls were a deep, welcoming red, and the floor and ceiling were a practical shade of gray that reminded Fiona of the silky curtains from her grandmother’s living room. She wondered what their house would look like. Would it be warm or sterile? Surely, it would be large…but would it be deceptively suffocating?

Fiona shook her head slightly. Now wasn’t the time to think about their house. It was her wedding night, and she doubted Merokk would tolerate a distracted bride. She glanced up at her husband and was taken aback by the raw, burning glow in his dark eyes. One look and her worries faded exponentially. Despite his identity, her heart and body were equally drawn to him. Maybe it was her wish to be loved by a man she trusted that caused her to swoon like a schoolgirl, but it was hard to reconcile this trust when he’d been a sworn enemy of all humans just a short time ago.

Reaching out, he trailed a finger down her cheek, all the way to the hollow of her throat. A streak of fire followed in the wake of his touch, and a jolt of arousal ricocheted through Fiona’s center, straight to her clit. The remainder of her second thoughts evaporated as he cupped her face and pressed a light kiss to her lips. He broke away and held her gaze, and the war-torn world ceased to exist.

“Come, Betsy. It’s time.”

 

* * *

 

Wicked thoughts raced through Merokk’s mind as he locked the bedroom door behind him. Betsy Carson, the quiet, lovely First Daughter, was all his to do with as he pleased. Tonight was about breaking her in, consummating one of the most important marriages in the Kall-Earth treaty and hopefully closing the rift between them. They’d both spoken unkind words to each other the previous night, and while they had reconciled—sort of—Merokk anticipated the sex act would strengthen the ground on which they stood.

Fiona waited in the center of the room, still wearing her simple but elegant white wedding dress. Her gaze rested upon the large bed against the farthest wall, and he wished he could tap into her thoughts.

“Step out of your dress.”

Hands trembling, she complied by reaching around to unzip her gown. It fell to the floor in a whirl of silk, pooling around her feet like a soft, billowing cloud, and she faced Merokk wearing only tight, lacy white underthings. His eyes swept longingly over her body, and his cock sprang to life. Resisting the urge to rub his hand down his front, he approached Betsy with small steps. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with tension and restraint. It took a great deal of self-control for Merokk to keep from throwing her on the bed and ripping her final garments off so he could plunge his ready cock between the sweet folds he’d touched last night. It was in his rights to do so, but a voice in the back of his mind whispered that he wanted all of her, not simply to spend himself inside her without care for her pleasure and, to his astonishment, her heart. He faced her and ran his hands down the soft flesh of her hips, stifling a groan as he did so.

“You pleased me today, Betsy.” Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t speak. Merokk helped her step out of the wedding dress and motioned for her to remove her painful-looking heels. The lacy underthings came next, and he pushed them down past her thighs to reveal the most perfect pair of legs he’d ever set eyes on—and toenails painted red. He anticipated running his tongue up and down the inside of her thighs, teasing the little button between her pink folds, and driving her wildly over the edge of desire. Tossing her panties and bra to the floor, he reached a hand between her legs and traced her pussy with one finger. Her warm juices caressed his digit, and she leaned against his chest, her delicate moans filling his head with the sweetest of music. She was ready for him, and he’d barely touched her.
Perfect.
He withdrew his hand and turned her toward the large bed.

The dim light from the nearby wall lamps bathed her flawless naked body in orange as he guided her down over the covers. Still wearing his wedding attire, Merokk straddled her on the bed and pulled her arms above her head, grasping a wrist in each hand to pin her down. Her breath hitched. He lowered his head until their noses almost touched and adopted a stern expression.

“You’re body belongs to me, Betsy. You already know better than to touch yourself. But it’s more than that. You must also obey me in the bedroom, no matter what I ask you to do. I’m a fair Kall. I might push your limits, but I’ll never hurt you. I want you to learn to trust me, and part of learning to trust involves taking risks. Do you think you can try your best to please me, little one?”

“Will you spank me if I screw up?”

He drew back a bit and studied her worried face. “If you aren’t paying attention, or if you willfully disobey, then yes, I’ll spank you.” He paused before adding, “And sometimes I’ll spank you for my enjoyment—and I hope yours, Betsy. I must admit I enjoy reddening your bottom.”

“You won’t ever hit me with your fists?”

What?
Merokk saw red. His jaw clenched painfully, and he sat back, bringing Betsy up to face him. Is that what she’d been so afraid of? That he’d beat her with his fists? Had someone hurt her in the past? Notions of revenge spun through his mind as he considered ugly possibilities. He took a deep, calming breath and regarded her warily.

“I would never hurt you like that. It’s my job to protect you from anyone who would.” He searched her eyes. “Did someone hurt you, little one?”

She shook her head. “No, no one. I—I just…” Her voice trailed off, and she regarded Merokk with gratitude. Then she lunged into his arms, pressing her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his torso. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Merokk sat stunned and motionless for a long, contemplative moment, but he eventually brought his arms around his bride, holding her tight and resting his face in her hair. She still smelled like flowers, he thought with a hidden smile. She squeezed him tighter, and his heart swelled. This was the beginning of trust.

“Look at me, Betsy.”

She pulled back and met his searching gaze. He took in all her features as he held her close, possessively. A light dusting of freckles covered her cheeks, nose, and the very tops of her slender shoulders. Her creamy white skin reminded him of the soft ivory silk sold by the street vendors in his district back home. The animal inside Merokk roared to life as he watched her lick her full, inviting lips. Drawing her face upward, he captured her mouth with a commanding kiss, sliding his tongue inside to taste, explore, and claim Betsy as his. She responded at once, meeting the thrusts of his tongue and moaning sweetly into his mouth.

Merokk tore away and pushed her down on the bed. He stood up long enough to shed his clothes and straddled her before she had the chance to move. The rapid rise and fall of her chest, the longing in her darkened eyes, and the scent of her arousal testified to her increasing excitement. The knowledge that she wanted him was an aphrodisiac to his system, and he became lost in Betsy with each new touch, each new taste.

“Spread your legs wide, little one, I want to see how pink you are.”

 

* * *

 

Fiona couldn’t think clearly, she could only act on impulse. She wasn’t a virgin—she’d been bedded a handful of times in her young life. But all the times before seemed to lose meaning and fade into a past that didn’t belong to her anymore. His nearness unleashed instincts and longings she’d never experienced before. His unique masculine scent and guttural groans drove her mad with need, and she shuddered with delight each time he touched or kissed her body with a gentleness she hadn’t anticipated. She’d expected a good, hard fucking—quick and to the point. Not this. But she wasn’t about to complain, because this was nice…very nice.

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