Chapter Thirteen

 

 

I roll over and drape my arm on Kenan. He’s snoring lightly and sleeping later than usual.

Three weeks have passed since our trip to town and the boat ride. I don’t find him repulsive or truly hate him, even though he still believes he has the right to punish me if I break a rule.

I’m frequently bothered by my inability to despise him like the enemy and murderer he is.

The sun rises higher and warm rays of light spread over the bed. I keep still, not wanting to wake him. In sleep, he appears peaceful and relaxed. And, in the dim light of morning, he looks more human than Kleaxian. I don’t know what his plans are for later today, but I hope he will take me on another walk in the forest after his return from town.

On the days he travels to one of the four towns nearer to the foothills, he takes a small hovercraft rather than walking. Yesterday, he gave me an aerial tour over the whole mountain, allowing me to glimpse the other towns he governs, all of which are connected by stone paths, though they are more than a day’s walk apart.

I’m settling into life on Tallia faster than I expected. Whenever this realization upsets me, I remind myself I don’t have much of a choice, and the beauty of the mountain often soothes my pains and calms the storm of loss in my heart. Glimpsing the watchers of the night always helps too, as there’s something magical about them I can’t deny, even if all the wishes I’ve now made on the flashing bugs never come true.

When Kenan first told me the wormhole had been destroyed and I would never return to Earth, it felt as if all my family and friends had died in the blink of an eye. Though I miss everyone from my former life dearly, I take comfort in the fact my parents and aunt have each other to lean on during their time of grief, and Sheila will have her mother and grandmother.

Surely the news about the wormhole’s closure has reached Earth by now. I hope each day gets easier for them, as it has for me.

Kenan stirs and murmurs something in Kleaxian, though his eyes don’t flutter open. He talks in his sleep often, though never in English. I find this odd considering his human father raised him until the age of twelve with little influence from his poor mother, who had only been permitted to see him three or four times a year. I drink up all the tidbits he offers about his past like I’m parched, because I long to understand him better.

The last of the nighttime insects cease buzzing, and the birds chirp louder. Most of the windows in the house are always kept open. Kenan has programed the shield to permit wind and the scents from the forest to enter, but no animals or Kleaxians, or humans, can enter, save for Kenan and several of his servants.

I stare at the huge red being who is my mate and wonder what the future holds. Though we’ve shared some happy moments during the last three weeks, our relationship is exceedingly fragile. I spend all day, every day, walking on eggshells for fear of incurring his wrath. He hasn’t punished me since the morning he face fucked me on the patio, which deprived me of my voice for five long days, but only because I haven’t given him reason to.

Suddenly restless, I crawl carefully out of bed and slip on one of my new silk robes. It’s a perfect fit, like all the clothes from the dressmaker. The cage still looms at the end of the bed, but I hardly notice it as I move toward the window. Kenan hasn’t put me in the cage since my first day on Tallia, insisting I warm his bed all through the night.

At least sex only hurt the first time, and I’m continually surprised by how enjoyable I find it. The second time Kenan claimed me, in the evening after our return from the boat ride, I barely experienced the slightest discomfort. He’d carried me upstairs and then kissed me thoroughly, leaving me tingling and breathless with desire. He’d reached up my dress and stroked my pussy, spreading my growing slickness all around. Goose bumps rose all over my body as he undressed me oh so carefully, his eyes flaming with passion as he prepared to have his way with me.

I breathe out quickly and shake my head. The thought of Kenan fucking me is making me wet. My arousal glides between my thighs as I turn toward the bed. I gasp.

Kenan is standing in the center of the room. His nostrils flare and his muscles tense.

“I can smell you, Laylah.” He strides to me, completely naked—he didn’t put his tight black underwear back on after fucking me last night—and grabs my crotch through the robe. “The scent of your naughty arousal woke me up, and now you are in so much trouble.”

I don’t know whether he’s serious or playing around. My stomach flips and I try to escape his grasp, but he forces me to the bed, ripping my robe off along the way, leaving me naked and trembling with fear.

He throws me onto the bed and I protectively cup my breasts. The welts of my last whipping have long faded, but I’m terrified of enduring another similar punishment. I swallow hard and meet his dark eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please, Kenan.” I’m not sure whether I’d rather him hit me, or face fuck me and steal my voice. Perhaps if I’m repentant enough he’ll show me mercy. “I’m so sorry for waking you up. Please, forgive me.”

He strides to a dresser and removes his belt from the top drawer. My stomach lurches and coldness grips me. He folds the leather length in half as he approaches. A sob bursts from my throat, but I don’t cover my face and hide my tears because I’m afraid to let go of my breasts.

“Sit on the edge of the bed, with your legs spread.” He stands back, waiting, holding the awful belt. “And uncover your breasts, Laylah, or I’ll tie you to the bed by your wrists and ankles and whip you for resisting me. You ought to know better.”

My hands fall from my bosom and I scoot to the edge of the bed. Obediently, I spread my legs, revealing my ever bare pussy to his gaze. None of the hair between my thighs, underarms, or legs has grown back, even the stubble has remained completely absent. I’ve never asked him why, but I assume it was removed with some sort of laser treatment. Such procedures are readily available on Earth, so it makes perfect sense. The doctor from the vision Heggal showed me probably did it. I gaze at my smooth legs and clutch the covers as if holding on for dear life.

I haven’t done anything wrong, yet I’m about to be punished. I sniffle and berate myself for the soft feelings I’ve developed for Kenan. Though bossy, he’s been somewhat kind in the days since our disagreement over the leash. We’ve been getting to know one another better, and part of me had started to trust him. A huge part of me still feels safe with him, and whenever he refers to me as his mate, or affectionately calls me little human, my heart swells with emotion because, if I’m stranded a zillion light years from Earth, it’s nice to at least be wanted.

“Why are you crying?” He trails the belt over my thigh, eliciting a shiver from me.

“I-I don’t want a whipping. Please, I don’t feel as if I did anything wrong.”

“I agree. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Relief washes through me. Thank God, he’s teasing me.

But it’s a dark tease because I’m still scared. What kind of game is he playing?

“If you had done something wrong, though, like run away from me, or disobey a direct order, would you gracefully submit to a punishment, even a harsh whipping?”

I’m stunned by his question.

Is he trying to teach me a lesson? Is that what this is all about?

Maybe he’s not teasing, after all. Wiping at my tears, I stare into his eyes as he continues running the belt up and down my thighs.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

He snaps the belt across my stomach, but not especially hard. In fact, the sting barely registers. “Yes you do, Laylah. If you were a bad little girl, would you submit to your punishment?”

I ignore the flush of arousal his scolding tone provokes. “What does it matter, Kenan? You’ll punish me whether I submit to it or not.” Bitter tears escape my eyes, even as the wetness between my thighs increases.

Why am I like this? Why was I never really attracted to any of the boys my age back on Earth, but this huge mean alien makes me quiver with need, even when I think he might punish me? The fucked up thing is, the more scared I become, the harder my clit throbs. I hope he doesn’t make the connection, but the long inhale he takes while staring at my spread pussy suggests he knows everything.

He knows how fucked up I am, and how conflicted over my shameful desires. I wasn’t like this before coming to Tallia. Of course, no one has ever captured me and forced me to become their mate before.

“I’ve been obedient. I have. I’ve followed every order and I haven’t resisted you in bed, nor have I tried to run away. When we walk in the forest, I wear the leash without any argument, and I’ll wear it without arguing the next time we venture to town as well.”

“Laylah, look at me.”

Reluctantly, I meet his gaze. He drops the belt and cups my face in his huge, rough hands. “I was teasing you about waking me up. I’m not angry the sweet scent of your arousal pulled me from sleep.” He catches my fresh fallen tears with his thumbs, brushing the moisture away. But I detect the faint growl rumbling in his throat and the flare of need in his purple eyes.

I think he likes causing my tears as much as he likes wiping them away.

“Kenan, you must understand where I come from, it’s completely unacceptable for a woman to be punished by her husband, er, mate,” I quickly correct myself. “I wish you wouldn’t threaten to hit me. I’m so afraid of you, afraid of being beaten again, or of losing my voice, I have been trying my best to please you.”

“I understand perfectly where you come from, Laylah,” he says, his tone sort of sad. “But Kleaxian blood also runs through my veins, along with the customs and memories of my ancestors. I possess thousands and thousands of years’ worth of Kleaxian memories. My instincts are largely Kleaxian, and my way of living is Kleaxian. My only knowledge of humans and Earth comes from the schooling my father forced me through. You are no longer on Earth and you have a Kleaxian as a mate. You must learn to accept the customs of my people.”

Thousands and thousands of years’ worth of Kleaxian memories? Holy shit. He’ll never change, I think with a sinking heart.

“You want me to promise to submit to the next punishment I earn?” Is that the point of this conversation? To secure my pledge to surrender to whatever brutal punishment he deems appropriate?

He places a hand over my heart. “I want you to accept my authority over you, deep in your soul, Laylah. I want you to strive to obey, but if you err, and you most certainly will eventually, I want you to accept it’s not only my right to punish you, but it’s my duty.” He speaks in a gentle, encouraging tone and brushes more tears from my face.

I’m quiet for a few minutes as I gather the courage to ask my next question.

“Will you promise not to make me bleed? Will you promise not to cover me in cuts and bruises like some of the Kleaxian females we saw in town?”

His eyes darken, and when he doesn’t respond immediately, my stomach twists because I already know the answer.

“Get dressed,” he says suddenly. He releases my face and strides to the tall, wide dresser holding all his clothes.

My heart beats a frenzied rhythm and my hands won’t stop shaking, but I manage to select a fresh gown from the hanging closet area in the corner of the room and then face the man I fear, yet crave, more than anything. I hurriedly slip into the dress and approach him. He’s fully clothed now, and his face is an unreadable mask.

Without a word, he grasps my hand and leads me downstairs and outside. Even though we leave his estate and walk onto the stone path twisting through the forest, he doesn’t put the leash on me. We’re in such a hurry, he seems to have forgotten.

Eventually, he guides me into a small grassy clearing amidst the towering trees. Clouds roll in fast and block out the sun. As we near a long, flat stone, it begins to sprinkle. The sudden dreary weather adds to the ominous mood of this place. I’m certain a thousand souls have perished here.

Coldness grips me, making my teeth chatter, despite the air being as warm and humid as ever.

“This is where she’s buried.” He stops several feet from the stone.

Eyes wide, I look at the oddly shaped, smooth gray stone. Dark markings run across its length, but I can’t read his language. I swallow hard, past the immense burning in my throat.

“Who is buried here, Kenan?”

“Ellonia. My first mate.”