Virile (4 page)

“You have read the contract so you know our rules and expectations. Do you have any questions to clarify those?”

“Not right now.”

Absurdly pleased, he nodded. She had reserved the right to question them later and thus ensured burgeoning communication. They might not answer her or give her the answers she sought, but they would talk. A relationship between four people, no matter how close three of those people were, required open and honest communication. If Adara was so inclined, she could attempt to wreak havoc on the bond between the brothers. He could hope she was honorable, but only time would tell.

“Fine. Now there is one thing left.”

Once again, Adara visibly prepared herself.

“Tell me what you are thinking.”

“You’re going to fuck me.” She sounded both resigned and faintly disgusted, and it stung him. She found him attractive—he knew humanoid women—and Adara would have likely expressed her interest in some form of congress if it weren’t for the current situation. He supposed she should be allowed some resentment. But it still stung.

“No. At least not now.” That got her attention. Green eyes went wide, and the mouth he intended to fill with his cock formed a succulent circle.

He saw the thoughts whirl through her head. Adara would be a terrible gamer because she was so easy to read. Perhaps that failing ran in the family although it was excellent in that they would more easily read her cues. But he detected shame and humiliation. She thought he didn’t want her, and that wouldn’t do. Grasping her hand, he pressed it against his erection, biting the inside of his cheek as he did so to quell a ridiculous urge to hump her hand and…come. Gods preserve him. She was definitely preordained for them.

“
This
is for you, little one.” He pushed her palm hard to his quivering shaft. After an initial attempt to pull back, she curled her fingers against the fabric between them, and he felt her relax a little, although he had to hold himself hard against her touch without embarrassing himself.

Setting her away from him and again staring into her eyes, he continued, “But we have something to deal with first and then I must get you to your new home before total nightfall. I will not risk you in the dark. Now, hear me clearly.

“This is a dangerous planet. The only safety is on the farm within designated zones. Or with one or all of us and
only
with one or all of us. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” Her voice was halting. “Designated zones or with one or all of you.”

“Correct. Now, I will reinforce the lesson.” He sat on the chair and motioned to his lap. “Climb over.”

“What? I mean…why? I haven’t done anything.” She put her hands behind her in a childish gesture and inched away.

“And you won’t, not with a sore bottom to remind you. The count is ten, and if you don’t obey immediately it will be fifteen and then twenty.”

Still she hesitated, her lips working against words she choked silent. Her glorious breasts lifted with each agitated breath, and the smooth skin over her abdomen rippled. He exerted all of his control to avoid taking her down on the bed and fucking her until they both passed out.

“Fifteen now, and you’ll count them.”

Her eyes filled with moisture. Thorn liked women’s tears when he caused them through pleasure or erotic discipline but found himself quite unmanned in the face of Adara’s despair. Pushing away the foreign emotion he sucked it up and narrowed his eyes at her, then used his Dom voice.

“Get over my lap. Twenty.”

Her feet, toenails painted a sprightly shade of turquoise, dragged across the wooden planks as they carried her toward him, although her body obviously leaned in the opposite direction. “Do I get a safe word?”

Godsdamnit. He kept his face impassive. “That is something we will discuss when with my brothers, Adara, but there is no safe word for a lesson, this reinforcement.”

Shoulders slumping, she made her final approach with the terror of a small vermin facing a grimalkin that hissed with bared claws and switching tail. Hitching her belly over his thigh, she squirmed across his lap and it took a grind of his teeth against his tongue to calm his cock.

“I’ll pin your legs between mine this time, Adara, until you are able to keep them in place of your own accord. You may grip my leg or the leg of the chair, but your hands will remain away from your delectable backside to avoid injury to those little, fragile bones. If you place your hands there I will bind you to the bed and use my belt. Are we clear?”

A muffled agreement reached his ears, and her shoulders lifted against a sob. The long voyage and new environment no doubt contributed to her emotional turmoil, but he had to apply this reinforcement. There was no way they could risk their intended, and she had to be amenable in this regard. Arranging her to his satisfaction and managing not to slip his fingers between her thighs to elicit pleasure, he began.

His hand dealt the first swat across the fullness of her buttocks, and she gave a little shriek before making the count. He wished he could sensitize her first and perhaps mix pleasure with the pain, but this wasn’t a prelude to sex.

Each smack elicited a shriek or a sob. She writhed over him and once a hand crept up to protect her tender globes, only to retreat and clasp his calf fiercely, matching turquoise nails digging in to give him a hint of pain. Her flesh reddened pleasingly, and he took care to cover the entire surface of those rounded curves, punishing the sweet area where buttocks met thighs and smacking the back of those thighs for good measure. He could have urged her to give into it and take the beating, fall into the space so many subs found when they simply accepted the feeling of a hard hand against vulnerable skin, but needed to make this a lesson only. Pleasure would detract from it.

Her count became garbled, but he had no doubt she knew how many blows were pending. The last five were laid on fast and heavy to deliver maximum effect on top of that especially tender joining on the upsweep of her buttocks with the last one right over her anus. With an effort, more because of his heavy heart than because her boneless form actually weighed anything significant, he stood her on her feet and forced her to face him. The sadist in him had never reared his head so there was no pleasure for either of them, merely sad, if important, necessity.

Stormy, moisture-filled eyes avoided his, and her cheeks were flushed and tear stained. Her nose ran and she sniffed pathetically. Thorn dug out a linen square and dried her face with it, ignoring her flinch so as not to take it to heart. He had just blistered her ass for little apparent reason to her, so what might he expect?

“Tell me why I tanned your bottom.” He fought the urge to stroke her cheek.

Despite the spanking, probably the first time anyone had touched her in that manner, a hint of what he thought he might expect flashed across her face. “To make sure I remembered your
order
.”

Teary and sore she might be, but his intended was not cowed. If anything she was furious with him and refused to really meet his eyes. Thorn’s dominant side rose to the challenge even as his heart warned him this woman was unlike any other he had known and dominated. He decided to be content with her insubordinate answer.

“Use the facilities and dress in the clothing that is hanging behind the door. I will pack the outfit you travelled in. Drink the entire bottle of juice that is on the sink.” The sooner she partook of the nectar of Virile the better.

A barely audible snort indicated her anger, and she was probably plotting against him already, wanting to resist his new orders. No matter. He had given her a solid reminder not to defy him and disobey the rules of safety, so the end justified the means. She marched towards the bathroom, perfect, red ass calling to him like a syren. He longed to feel that heat against him as he thrust his cock—He shut down his lust. They had to leave shortly if they were going tonight. A night with Adara in the bed in this room would suit him to the ground, but he had his brothers to consider.

****

Raw fury simmered beneath her attempt at a carefully bland exterior—at least Adara hoped she hadn’t given anything of her strong feelings away. A hint of awe tempered her rage an infinitesimal bit. If that solid pulsing erection against her side was any indication, Thorn Freestar would have rather fucked her. The man’s self control and his strength were perhaps worthy of someone’s admiration, but she wasn’t going there. Neither was she going to consider the emotions elicited from being naked at this hot stranger’s feet and by his carefully applied spanking. They surely were too foreign, and they undermined her feminist self! As if a man she’d just met could make her want to acknowledge his approval of her naked body and her submission! As if a man knew best how to teach her a lesson!

It roiled her emotions and curdled her common sense, and she was going to find a way to express herself—what was it she wanted to express, anyhow? It had to be disgust and dismay, she decided. She just needed time to sort it out and calm that surge of hormones. Her brain must be muddled by the space journey. Drinking the small bottle of juice down, gulping the contents as she realized how dehydrated she’d become, Adara fought to order her thoughts.

The hideous dress helped stiffen her spine. Yes, the fabric was unbelievably soft against her heated skin, particularly the sore and obviously reddened skin of her ass, and it was comfortable. But it was all he’d left her to wear and it was ugly with its long full sleeves that fell to her fingernails. And it had a
hood
, shades of monkdom. Such a specious claim. Her nakedness beneath the baggy garment seemed all the more obvious because of its shapelessness.
He
knew, and she was intensely aware of that. Surely the little shudder passing through her body was indicative of terror and not anticipation. The size and heat of his cock beneath the barrier of his pants was imprinted on her brain, and no way was she looking forward to feeling it in places other than under her palm. She supposed she was grateful that he allowed her to be covered at all, and that grated too.

Adara pinched her forearm viciously to remind herself this was a battle of wills and hissed at the pain and immediate bruising. It was her curse, the fair skin of being a redhead—every little injury showed. That thought had her yanking the skirt of the cursed dress up to her waist, and she strained to peruse her bottom. It was definitely red, but there was no sign of bruising. Her captor clearly knew his stuff. For sure she’d be tender for a while and would be reminded of his stern lecture for some time, but there would be no actual marks left once the red faded.

She wondered where he’d honed his spanking skills, and then shut it down. Why would she care how many women he’d spanked? Maybe that drink she’d partaken of included something other than nourishment and a muscle relaxant. Maybe that attendant had included something to shut a person’s thinking brain down, because there was no way the old Adara might consider the next month as anything other than a period in her life to endure. She had a goal at the end of this particular tunnel.

“We must leave.” Thorn’s deep voice interrupted her newly found determination to get through this. She hurriedly pulled the dress down to veil the lower half of her body, noting the way his eyes darkened with lust when he’d caught a glimpse of her nether parts. His pants still bulged over his cock, and she forced her eyes to the floor. She nodded.

 
“I didn’t injure your beautiful skin, Adara. You will likely bear my marks in time, but that spanking was merely to make a point, if an important one.”

Okay then. He was so fucking arrogant, thinking he could read her mind. Well, he had, but as for marking her later—the contract spoke against irreversible physical harm.

“You will beg me for my marks, Adara. At least some of them.”

Double arrogant. And she needed to work on how expressive her face was—carefully bland obviously wasn’t cutting it. Sammy had given her some insight, but this Thorn overwhelmed her. She bit her tongue, literally, and steadfastly stared at the floor.

“Pull the hood up and come.” Was there a hint of exasperation in his tone? Hopefully. Not that she wanted to give him an excuse to hit her again, okay, discipline her, but damn it—she wasn’t a doormat. She covered her head and went.

****

Using his profiler, Thorn had checked to ensure the cargo was loaded then scooped up Adara’s discarded pieces of apparel, stuffing them into her case. He doubted she realized it had been offloaded and set in the room while he greeted her. He would check her possessions before releasing them for her use, especially her profiler. Her contact with the outside would be curtailed until she accepted her future with them.

The object of his true affection—hades—his obsession, stalked from the bathroom ahead of him to stand by the outside door. The loose fitting garment woven from the chaff of their crop engulfed her petite frame, although shifted suggestively across the thrust of breast and round of her flanks. The pale color suited her wildly flowing hair and now flashing eyes, although she was quick to avoid his own.