Helen

Dinner had come and gone and the hour grew late as I waited. I sat on the corner of my bed, my back straight and chin held high as I anticipated my mate’s arrival. The gown I wore was black silk—just as he’d requested—but it clung to every curve with a gentleness that made my skin sensitive. It hung to the floor, covering the black thigh-high stockings and garters I’d asked Lexi to help me get this morning. I added a barely there G-string and no bra to complete the indecent outfit. On the outside, the off-the-shoulder gown made me look regal and composed.

Underneath, I was dressed for pure sin.

He’d wanted me to wear black, but hadn’t given more specific details. And so the four of us—me, along with Lexi, Katie and Dani—had filled those details in for ourselves. Sexy details that would make a male pant and, hopefully, lose control.

This sooo wasn’t me, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Meaning, a sexy outfit. Even a touch slutty. I had taken him deep in my throat, so I did have a little bit of an inner slut. I grinned to myself.

Dani had helped me with my makeup, and my lips were bright red and glossy, my skin flawless. I knew my mate couldn’t see my eyes, but they were shadowed to perfection just in case he decided to look.

I wanted him to look. I wanted him to rip the blindfold off and look me in the eyes, declare his love for me. Tell me he wanted me forever and beg me to allow him to claim my pussy as his own.

But that was a dream. Tonight, I had one goal. One.

To see him. To learn his identity. I needed to know what he was hiding. No—why he was hiding from me.

The pearlescent blindfold that covered my eyes was pure genius. The outer appearance was reflective ivory, but from the inside I could see through it as if I were looking through a two-way mirror. I could look at him, watch him, see him. And as long as I stayed out of direct light, he’d have no idea I was disobeying him in this small way. I’d tested it with the ladies, making sure the lighting was right, that I could see them, but confirmed they couldn’t tell.

Disobeying? Definitely, but I considered it more bending his request to fit my needs, too.

As the door to my chamber slid open, I was careful to tilt my head as if I could hear him, not see the giant shadow of a man lurking in the doorway. Not just any man. Him. My mate. My mysterious, secretive mate. My heart pounded as he approached, but I held myself still. Waiting.

I needed to obey him—at least in everything but the blindfold. I needed him to be happy. The war within me was real, and almost painful at the thought that I was deceiving him. That I might disappoint him.

But I remained silent. I had to know.

The quiet of the room stretched and he took two steps closer, his face hidden in shadow as the door slid closed behind him. I had the room lighted by a handful of scented candles I’d asked Officiate Treva to help me find. She’d scowled, informed me that open flames were forbidden in the Touchstone, then winked and taken me to one of a handful of S-Gen units, Spontaneous Matter Generators, and asked me what scent I wanted.

It had been like watching a scene from Star Trek as she’d talked to the machine and five ivory candles had appeared, scented with cinnamon and vanilla.

Now those candles flickered and glowed in the darkness of my bedroom as my mate approached.

My hair was up in a twist, baring my neck and shoulders and I held my breath as his fingers trailed over my collarbones, my jaw. His touch was soft. Reverent.

“You are very beautiful, Helen.”

The sound of his voice sank deep into my bones, the words warming me as much as the feel of his skin on mine.

“Do you know what happens tonight?” he asked.

I gave a small nod, but kept my head angled down. Just the feel of his caress had my nipples pebbling and I wanted more. I wanted what we’d shared the night before, and more. Yet I was afraid for him to learn of my duplicity and be angry. If he were to do that, to punish me for my disobedience, I wanted it to be later. But I would see him first. And have him claim my second virginity.

For if he did, I would be one step closer to being his.

And he one step closer to being mine.

Tied to me irrevocably just as much as I would be his. Permanently.

“Yes, Master.”

“Say it.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “You’ll claim me again.”

“Yes, but where?”

Gods, it was a little embarrassing. I hadn’t even considered this type of sex until coming here, until Officiate Treva mentioned it. Oh, I knew what it was, of course, but had never considered doing it myself. And now, with him, I wanted it. I clenched my pussy and ass at the very thought. After the way he’d brought me pleasure the day before, I knew he’d make this good, too. I had no fears.

I would give myself to him in this as well.

And so I took a deep breath and told him. “You’ll claim my ass.”

“My good little mate.”

When he took my chin and tipped it up, I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t ready yet. But when his lips met mine, when his tongue delved deep to find mine, to play, I forgot all about seeing him. I felt.

And when he lifted his head and traced the edges of my gown with his fingertips, I dared. My eyes fluttered open, I saw him for the first time. Him.

Big. Broad. Dark hair, strong brow, square jaw. Blunt nose. Full lips. Eyes that held fierce need. Heat. Love.

I saw all of that in a blink of an eye, for while I’d never seen him before, had no idea to his appearance, I knew him. Deep down. My mark pulsed. Throbbed along with my pussy.

And then I saw what he’d been trying to hide. Not at first, mind you, but seconds later. Scars. All over his face, his neck. One sliced through his eyebrow and down his cheek.

He was marred by what I assumed was battle. His kisses lingered, tracing the line of my jaw, my cheek. I lifted my hands to him, eager to touch and explore, to claim what was mine.

The moment my hand settled over the scars on his neck, he reached for me, pulled my hands from him. He was breathing heavily, panting as if he’d just run a marathon, as he lowered my hands and held them in front of me. He locked my wrists in a gentle grip where I could not touch him, could not learn the truth with my fingertips. Restrained but without any bindings.

But it was too late. I knew him. Knew his face. Knew he was mine. Yes, he was the one for me. Scars and all.

“Mate,” he breathed.

It broke me from my staring, and I tilted my head down again. My heart pounded in my ears, afraid he’d seen my eyes, saw me staring. Knew I knew the truth. Would he yell, rile, punish?

I’d heard his name was Zee, the Hunter with the scars. He was infamous here at the Touchstone. He was frightening to the other brides, a monster among gods when he walked with the other Hunters. I’d heard much speculation about how he’d gotten his scars, but no one dared to ask. With the advanced technology of the alien races, it had to have been something terrible. Too horrible to imagine.

The thought made my heart ache for him, and I had to clench my jaw and bite my tongue to hold back words of sorrow or sympathy. Something. The pain he’d had suffered through must have been horrible. Everything was churning inside me until I couldn’t sort through the emotions.

He was hiding his scars. I wanted to reach up, touch them, feel every rough line, every white stripe that burdened him. Kiss each one. The weight of them was heavy upon his shoulders, upon his heart if he would not share them with me. Me! His Marked Mate.

His soul must be as battered and torn as his face.

“Mate, the kiss was not enough,” he murmured, his voice an octave lower. “We’ve only just begun this night.”

I shivered at the possibility, yet my mind was awash in his pain. In his need to hide. He gave to me so thoroughly, learning my body and giving it the pleasure I didn’t even know I craved. He cared for me, I sensed it. Somehow, perhaps, even protecting me from himself? What was I to do? I couldn’t pull down the blindfold. I couldn’t let on that I knew. I sensed…no, I knew, he was a proud male. I could not harm him further by letting on that I knew. But there was one thing he could share—

“May I ask one question, Master?”

“What is it, my little mate?”

“While I will still call you Master, please tell me your name.”

He was quiet. Still. I felt his stillness. Had I overstepped? Had he figured out I’d seen him?

“To you, and you alone, my name is Master. Your Master.” His voice was hard, filled with rough command that made my pussy clench and my mind whirl at the same time. He wasn’t ready to tell me and I had to accept that. Was he, too, aware of his infamy at the Touchstone? Was he worried if I knew his name that I’d know the truth? Maybe, if I could convince him that I was totally and completely his, he would feel safe enough to share everything with me. His trust would be all the more precious once I’d earned it, so I did not push.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Now, mate.” He took my hand, held it. “Stand. My fingers itch to remove your dress.”

I stood then with his help and kept my eyes downcast as his hands undid the fastenings of my dress and let it fall to the floor.

“Mate,” he said. The word was drawn out on a groan as I stood before him. I knew what he was seeing.

“Yes, Master?” I squeaked.

“Your command was to dress in black and be blindfolded. I did not request…this.”

Through the blindfold, I could see his arms lift, as if indicating what still covered my body. He didn’t like the stockings, the scrap of panties?

“I’m sorry I—”

He cut me off. “I should punish you for disobeying, but I can’t deny something so lovely. So fucking hot.”

His fingers took hold of one of my garters, plucked it like a rubber band. The slight sting of satin against my thigh had me gasp, my nipples tighten further. Oh god. I’d wanted him to be all hot and bothered and now I was, too.

“My balls are heavy with cum for you. And this sight? My virgin is also a vixen.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that played on my lips. He liked it. No, he loved what I wore. With my eyes angled down, I could see the thick bulge of his cock beneath his uniform pants.

I felt, all at once, wickedly powerful. While he gave all the orders, I was truly in control. I could say my safe word, but there was no need.

He wanted me as much as I desired him. Perhaps this need would be what would eventually win him over, to prove to him, somehow, that this was more. This was forever and I wanted all of him.

If I were going to give him all of me, then it had to be even.

But now? With him all but salivating over me, it wasn’t the time to press the issue.

I’d forget about seeing more of him and just submit. I’d give myself to him tonight. Tomorrow? Tomorrow, I wanted forever. I wanted his name. He would give me his name before he claimed my pussy. He would give me a gift and I would figure out how to give him everything in return.

“Claiming your ass is to be taken slowly. To prepare you for my cock takes time.” He took a deep breath. “But vixen, I believe you are as eager as me. Ripe. Wet.”

“Yes, Master,” I readily admitted. I was wet. The scrap of my G-string was ruined and did nothing to hide my needy state. My pussy ached to be filled, but I knew I was to be denied. Perhaps that was why I was eager for his cock. In my ass.

“But first I need more of your taste.” He tipped my chin up and kissed me again, his hands cupping the sides of my face tilting and turning me exactly the way he wanted. The kiss was tender and fierce, dominant and potent. Everything I ever imagined. Intimate, too. He wasn’t just bringing me pleasure, we were connecting. I felt his need for that bond in his lips, his tongue, the gentle pressure of his fingers. In every hard line of his body as he pressed against me. Clothed to barely clothed.

He broke the kiss after I don’t know how long with a sigh, a brush of our noses. In that instant, he was tender. A different kind of lover. Not one who intended to fill my ass with his big cock and empty his cum there, marking me as deep as possible. Then he nibbled along my jaw, down my neck, licked along my collarbone, then dropped to his knees.

I remained still as he kissed my breasts, then took one nipple into his mouth and suckled. Okay, there was the passionate lover.

My hands went to his shoulders of their own volition. Realizing I perhaps shouldn’t have done that, I dropped them.

“No. You may touch me,” he breathed, his breath fanning over my wet nipple, making it furl even tighter.

I put my hands back on his hard, broad shoulders and felt the play of his muscles beneath my fingertips. The heat from him radiated through his shirt. It felt good to hold on, especially since he returned to play with my breasts.

He didn’t linger there—I had no idea they were so sensitive—only built up my need for him to a fever, then kissed down my belly. I shifted my hands to his hair when he curled his fingers into the thin strings of my G-string and tugged, pulling it down to the floor before licking over my pussy.

I cried out, gripped the thick, silky locks, held on tight. It wasn’t overlong, but enough to hold on to. To keep his face right between my thighs and so I wouldn’t fall. Or float away. Or have him stop.

When he flicked my clit so expertly, I went up on my toes, almost too much pleasure with that one lick.

“You will take the pleasure I give, little mate.”

Taking a deep breath, letting it out, I relaxed. And then he took me to the brink and over with just his tongue, his hands cupping my bottom and holding me up.

When my legs were wobbly, only then did he let me come. I cried out my pleasure, rocking and shifting my hips almost riding his face. I didn’t want the bliss to end. Ever.

But he tempered his caress and my body softened, became very sated.

He said, “Turn around and lean over the bed.”

I glanced down at him, saw him wipe his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. Yes, I was wet. So wet I could feel it slick on my thighs. I didn’t stare for long, remembering myself—even in my post-orgasm haze—and did as he said, spinning on my heel and bending at the waist, putting my hands on the soft blanket. I faced away from him, in the perfect position for him to spank me if he learned the truth. I bit my lip, dipped my head so my forehead touched the soft blanket.

“Stick that ass out,” he commanded. “Show me everything.”

Shifting my feet, I curled my back, thrust my butt out and back. I could only imagine what I looked like. Bent over the bed. Naked besides stockings and garters. My breasts swayed from the shift in position, my hair fell in soft tendrils now over my neck. If Lexi thought I looked sexy all put together, surely it was nothing compared to this. I felt like I was in a porn flick, especially with the blindfold on.

He’d prepared me so well, taking what he had the night before, something familiar, to ease me into this next step. I was ready. I was eager. My pussy was desperate, although that wasn’t what he’d claim next. So was I. The idea of him taking my ass was no longer scary. I wanted it. I wanted him. In me, any way I could get him. I was hot for him. Frantic. Desperate. The orgasm that still sizzled over every one of my nerve endings only made me needier.

I wanted more…him.

A palm slid over my upturned bottom. “Gorgeous. It will look even better pink with my handprints.”

I startled. Had he learned the truth? “You’ll…you’ll spank me?” I asked, staring down at the bed, clenching every muscle, holding my breath. Waiting for that palm to land.

“For punishment, if needed. For pleasure, definitely. Not tonight. Soon.”

I sighed, relaxed. For some strange reason, I was slightly disappointed.

My hips wiggled involuntarily at the thought and I heard his chuckle. “I see you like the idea.” He gave me a light swat and I gasped. It wasn’t hard and it didn’t hurt, but I now understood what he meant by for pleasure. The slight sting morphed into heat and spread throughout my body. Made my pussy gush with my arousal, my clit swell and pulse with the need for more.

“I can see your eagerness from here. Smell it. Fuck, mate. You are my undoing.”

When I felt his fingers slide over my pussy, I gasped. He groaned.

“Dripping.”

I should have been mortified at my response, but I wasn’t. I was wet and eager, ready for my Marked Mate to fuck me. It was the ultimate symbol of my need for him. I could lie with words and tell him otherwise, but my body boldly displayed the truth. I was his and my pussy was stating I belonged to him.

My pussy belonged to him. And when he slid one of those drenched fingers up to my back hole and circled it, I knew this taboo spot would soon be his as well. I gasped at the illicit contact, cried out as he pressed inward. Groaned when I began to open for him.

I wiggled my hips again and he slipped inside.

“Oh, god,” I moaned, when a finger breached me there. It was an odd feeling, opening for him. Remaining that way. I couldn’t help but clench, to try and push him out, but like everything else he did, he would not be dissuaded. He ruled my body. It felt tight, strangely deep even though it had to be just a fingertip. And big. I’d only seen the outline of his cock through the sheer blindfold, but I’d also had it in my mouth…down my throat. I knew it was much bigger than this, that I’d be stretched open and then even more before the second claiming was done.

He retreated and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“No rush, little mate. I’ll take all the time you need to be ready. We’ll get this tight little hole all slick and open for me.”

I felt the cold drizzle of what I assumed was lube down the seam of my bottom. Where had that come from? Pocket? He hadn’t moved from my side so it couldn’t have been tucked in a drawer or something so—

“Oh, my god,” I said again, my random wonderings forgotten because this time, when he slipped a finger in, he reached beneath me and stroked my clit at the same time. Sensitive from the orgasm and the workings of his tongue, I responded instantly. And, wow, it was different. Nerve endings I didn’t know I had came to life. Sizzled. The combination of ass play and clit attention was lethal to my control.

When he carefully fucked my ass with just the tip of his finger, slowly in and out, I came. I screamed, the intensity of it had my arms collapsing. I fell onto my forearms, which made his finger pop out.

I tingled there, clenched, wishing he was back inside. Sweat bloomed on my skin, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I wanted more. That had been wicked bliss. Intense, powerful and…wow.

He leaned over me, his chest pressed to my back. But there was no shirt, only bare, hot skin. He’d stripped and I felt the hot press of his cock against my pussy, felt it slip through my juices, the slick lube. Thick. Long. Hot. And it was all for me. And it was all going in me.

“I knew you’d like it,” he breathed. He was so calm, so focused on me, but his cock was telling me he was ready, that his control over his body was fierce. “Ready for me to claim you now?”

I nodded, my forehead pressing into the soft mattress.

“Good little mate. More lube. More fingers first. Then I’ll get my cock in there. Claim you. Fill you with my seed.”

I nodded again and he shifted slightly so he could do as he’d said. A finger slipped into me, deeper this time. It was coated liberally in lube. My mind was too muddled to figure out the logistics, but I knew I wasn’t even supposed to think. My job was to feel, to submit in every way. I was doing it. I had no choice, not that he would take me there roughly or without my readiness.

And yet I could say butterfly. But I wouldn’t. I wanted this. I wanted him. He was the one to protect us both, to ensure I could handle him, that my body was prepared, my mind was at ease. My body, too.

So when he’d worked two fingers, then three into my virgin ass, coating me liberally inside and out with the slick lubricant, scissoring them to open me up in preparation for his cock, I gripped the blankets, breathed through it. Gave over to it. It burned, the stretch, but my mate was slow, patient, consistently adding more and more lube.

He didn’t touch my clit again, which only made me needier. I knew what it felt like to come with something in my ass, and I knew he wouldn’t give it to me again until he was deep inside. He wanted to share the pleasure with me.

His fingers slipped free and immediately I felt the insistent press of his cock. Hard, yet warm and slick. The prod was insistent, yet the way he crooned praise, commands, and promises in my ear, I relaxed. Relented.

Allowed him entrance. He slipped in with a silent pop and I gasped. He was so much bigger than I remembered. Thick and the broad head was all that filled me.

“There, little mate.” His voice was rough, like sandpaper. “I’m in. This ass is mine. Now let me claim it.”

He moved then, slowly worked himself all the way in, the slickness of the lube easing his way. Patiently. Reverently. When his hips pressed against my bottom, I knew I’d taken all of him. I was so full and he was so deep. It was strange that this was the way I truly learned his size, that his cock was not only thick with a flared crown that hit every inch of me, but long, too.

Reaching around, he flicked my clit with his finger as he pulled back, slid in. Began to fuck me.

The play of his cock over the nerve endings around the ring of my entrance flared with each pass. It was like lightning. Like a shock of electricity. Intense and powerful, hot and bright. Jangly. Indescribable.

The submission of him claiming me like this, with him taking me from behind, was overwhelming. It was a true mating, dark and carnal. Wild and passionate. His dominance, his control was overwhelming.

“So tight. So perfect. This ass is mine. You’re mine.” He continued to speak these words over and over as he fucked me. I clenched and relaxed one after the other, my body not sure what to do. All it could handle was the pleasure, the need to come.

He came with a harsh growl, only after he pushed me over the edge. There was no scream this time, but a deep, guttural growl that escaped my lips. I clenched and squeezed around his cock, trying to pull it in even deeper.

Exhausted, weary, sore, I felt his seed coat my inner walls, knew I was claimed. Sweaty and breathing roughly, I clenched the blankets, felt the material abrade my nipples. Done in. Ruined, destroyed for any other male. As he said, I was his.

Yet was he mine?