Chapter Three

 

When Mira emerged from the bathroom, Jakk picked up the tracking collar Gav’n had pilfered from the parole department at work. They’d had to resize it to fit her slender neck, but it allowed them to restrict her movements and track her at all times.

“Come here, little one. This is for you.”

She balked, stopping in place, eyes flying wide. “What is it?”

“Your collar. We’re going to have to leave you alone at times—possibly as soon as tomorrow, if Gav’n can’t get out of his morning meeting, and we have an obligation to protect Endermere’s citizens.”

Her lip curled. “Protect Endermere’s citizens?” Her hands flew to her slender hips, and one leg jutted out to the side in a clear notice of opposition. Damn, she was adorable. His balls were so blue they were purple from him studying every angle of her little naked body.

But he shouldn’t have used those words because their little spitfire was angry.

“So you still pretend we came here with the intent to attack Endermere?”

“Watch your tone with me,” he warned. “Of course we don’t believe that, but when you were given to our care, it was with the understanding we’d condition you to live in society. Leaving you alone to roam the streets on your first day out does not fit that agreement.”

“So—what? I’m like a pet? Is there a leash, too?” Her eyes narrowed at the titanium collar that hinged in the front and locked in the back with a key. “Is that a tracking device? Or a shock collar?”

Of course she’d guess—their little engineer was as bright as they came. The citizens of Earth wouldn’t send an idiot out on a colonization mission.

“Yes, both,” he admitted.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, hands clenching into fists as she backed up from him.

He stepped closer. “You’ve earned another consequence, Mira. This time it will be more than my hand.”

Gav’n closed in on her from the other side with a deceptively casual approach.

“No.” Her back hit the wall. Nowhere else to retreat.

Gav’n closed in, caging her between his two arms. “Punishment or collar first, Jakk?”

“Collar.”

Gav’n pinned her wrists behind her head and pulled her away from the wall.

Jakk stepped in and clipped the collar in place, locking it at her nape and dropping the key in his pocket.

“Do you want to punish her?” Gav’n asked.

“Your choice.” He and Gav’n rarely begrudged each other anything, operating almost from a single mind.

“I’ll hold her again.” His brother tugged her forward to the bed, where he sat and positioned her between his knees. “Bend over, like you did when Jakk removed your plug.”

Mutiny lodged in the set of her jaw, the hardness of her fixed gaze on Gav’n’s chest. His brother merely grinned. “Do you like to be forced, Mira?” Gav’n’s easy tone made it sound like the punishment was a mere game, a form of play between the three of them. Which, in a way, it was. But with genuine consequences for all if they failed to win her submission.

He couldn’t even think about her being taken from them. Already he’d grown attached—felt like she belonged to them. She was a gift in their lives. A once-in-a-lifetime chance for him to have everything he’d ever dreamed of. He sure as hell didn’t want to screw things up.

Confusion flitted over Mira’s face, and Gav’n grinned more broadly. “You do, don’t you?” He gripped her nape and pulled her head down to his lap, forcing her to bend at the waist. “It’s okay, pashika. I don’t mind taking control, if that’s easier for you. Until you’re ready to yield. But consider this—you’ll earn your little freedoms sooner if you submit.Fighting jonly makes us think we have reason to keep you locked up.” He wrapped his fist in her hair and turned her face so he could see it. “Understand, little one?”

Jakk couldn’t see her face, and he didn’t hear an answer.

“She’s ready,” Gav’n said, releasing her hair.

He unbuckled his belt and slid it from the loops. It was an old belt—a favorite—of wide leather grown supple with wear. He wound the buckle end around his fist until only around eighteen inches remained. “Spread your legs, Mira.”

She didn’t move.

He snapped the leather across her pink bottom, and she shrieked, lurching forward into Gav’n’s lap. “I asked you to spread your legs. I require your immediate obedience to all commands.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she growled, still dancing on her toes.

“No, no, baby.” Gav’n’s fingers threaded into her hair again. “You don’t want to pick that fight with Jakk. Not in the position you’re in. Open your legs and apologize for what you just said to him because it sounded like an insult to me.”

She didn’t move or speak. Jakk waited, sensing his brother was close to coaxing something from her, or he would’ve green-lighted Jakk to begin.

“I’m trying to save you a beating.”

The scent of her tears reached his nose.

“Or do you need this beating?” Gav’n’s soft-spoken words held only sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Jakk—Master,” she choked out.

He kicked her feet apart. “You’re forgiven. We know this is hard for you. Only twenty with my belt, and we’re through.”

He whipped her, going easy on the strokes. The balance of dominance with mercy would be crucial to win her surrender. He just hoped they hadn’t gone too far either way.

She jerked and danced with each stroke but didn’t cry out. He laid stripes up and down her ass and the backs of her legs, concentrating them in the place where her bottom curved into her thighs. When it was over, he dropped the belt and rubbed her ass, soothing the hot welts.

“Come here.” This time he didn’t want Gav’n to be the one to comfort her. He needed to do it himself. He pulled her up to stand, half expecting a fight. Her face was flushed, hair spilling over her eyes, jaw thrust forward at a sullen angle. “It’s over,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms.

She didn’t return the embrace, but she didn’t fight either. Her small body shook and trembled against his, spearing a new need to protect her that was foreign to him. The same need he’d felt in the prison, when threatening the guard. He had no doubt the guard had done exactly his duty, ensuring she ate enough food to maintain her health and well-being and punishing her when she refused, yet the idea of any other male touching her enraged him.

“Let’s put you to bed, pashika. It’s been a long evening. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He released her, and she wobbled. She touched the collar around her neck with a grimace but turned and dutifully climbed up into the middle of the bed. Simply the sight of her lovely form, leggy and alluring, made his heart pick up speed. For the first time in his life, a female belonged in his bed.

A female who had just submitted to his discipline and received pleasure at his hands. He felt very lucky, even if she wasn’t happy with them at the moment. He walked around to the bed and pulled the covers out from under her, waited until she climbed in, and rearranged them around her small body, tucking them in under her shoulders.

She curled up into a ball, her fists tucked up under her chin. He stroked a lock of hair from her face. “Gav’n and I still need to eat. Do you want me to wait until you’ve fallen asleep to leave?”

She’d been turned away from him, but now her sea-green eyes shot to his face. “Wha—? Um, no. Thanks.”

He bent and kissed her forehead. “Thanks, Master,” he corrected softly, not caring if she answered.

She closed her eyes and rolled away. “Thanks, Master.” Only a whisper, but she’d spoken the words.

He squeezed her shoulder, too choked even to mutter, Good girl.

 

~.~

 

She woke nestled against a massive, warm body. Not just nestled—intertwined. Her head lay on a muscled shoulder, her palm on a chiseled chest. She’d tossed one of her legs over the male’s hips and...oh God—yes, that was his very hard cock thickening against her bare sex. He wore some form of underwear. She still was naked.

She supposed she had to get used to nudity.

She opened her eyes. Which brother was it?

Jakk. For some reason, that surprised her. He hadn’t struck her as the cuddly type, not that he’d lacked affection. Did he snuggle women after sex? The thought sent an entire tsunami of ideas and images screaming through her head. What it would be like to have sex—no, to get fucked—by Jakk? He’d be hard and demanding. Hold her down and thrust so deep she saw stars, leave her sore and aching.

Her core clenched, and her hips thrust toward him before she could stop herself.

Jakk stiffened as his cock surged against her leg. He lifted his head and looked at her. “You’re awake, little one.” He certainly sounded fully awake, as if he’d been lying there, waiting. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He unceremoniously tipped her off his body and climbed swiftly out of bed, padding toward the bathroom. He wore only a pair of small, fitted boxer briefs, and his cock tented the front with an alarming length.

Damn, would that thing even fit inside her?

“I’m due at court today. Gav’n and I are juggling our time with you until you settle in.” He stepped into the bathroom, and the sound of running water reached her.

He seemed to be in a rush. A curl of warmth threaded through her chest. Had he actually laid there afraid to wake her? Possibly making himself late?

When had anyone in her life been so thoughtful? Certainly her four perfect older sisters had never been quiet while she’d slept. Her roommates in college hadn’t. Her boyfriends never cared. A little thing, but it touched her deeply.

Gav’n peeked in the door. He wore a crisp hunter-green uniform marked with crossed swords. It must be his police uniform. What did his job entail? She needed to learn as much as she could about her new situation, to figure out how to make life bearable. Finding and contacting her shipmates was at the top of her list.

“You’re finally awake!” Gav’n said. “Come and have some breakfast. I have to talk to you about the way things are going to go today.”

She slid out of bed, shivering at the loss of the warm covers and the lingering remains of Jakk’s body heat.

“I’ll turn the heat up. Gav’n, ever attentive, crooked a finger at her. “I’ll turn the heat up. Better yet, I’ll show you where the controls are so you can adjust it the way you want. Come here.” She followed him into the hall, and he lifted a flap in the wall. Behind it glowed a basic digital control panel. The only problem was the markings were all in their language, which she couldn’t read. The translator shot they’d given her allowed her to understand their language but didn’t work on written words.

“This is the temperature.” He pointed at the third control down. She memorized its location. He punched it several times. “This is hotter.” He held it down until a different word flashed. “This is colder.” She memorized the markings for hot and cold.

“Got it.”

He grinned at her. “You’re quick, little bird. Let’s go downstairs. We’re going to introduce a new food this morning.” He jogged down the steps, and she followed.

On the table sat a bowl of the same beige grain they’d served her in prison.

She stopped in her tracks. “Oh no.” She shook her head. “No way. I’m not eating that.”

Gav’n watched her, face impassive. He was silent a moment. When he drew a breath, she steeled herself for a threat. “Mira, would you like to try that again? I take it you’ve had this cereal, and it didn’t agree with you?”

She nibbled her lip, already understanding what he wanted. “Yes, Master.”

“So, how should you speak to me when you tell me that?”

Her face burned. She hated being scolded like a child, almost as much as she hated being wrong. “Respectfully. I’m sorry, Master.”

“Try it again.”

Pride warred with common sense. Part of her wanted to rebel, simply because she felt humiliated at being corrected. The other part knew she’d been peevish, and he didn’t deserve it. She stared at a spot beside the cereal. “Thank you for making me breakfast, Gav’n, but I don’t think that particular food works for my stomach.”

“Better.” He picked up the bowl of mush and dumped it down an open hole in the sink. “Come here.”

She walked into the kitchen with him. The door that appeared to be a pantry or closet turned out to be the Pra’kirian version of a refrigerator.

“What looks good to you?”

She scanned the food. Nothing, really. After daily bellyaches, she was afraid to eat anything on Pra’kir.

“Do you want to stick with the madlyne fruit again? Did that go down okay last night?”

Her tummy growled, but this time it was more from hunger than bad digestion. She nodded. “Yes, please. Master.”

Gav’n’s warm, rewarding smile did fluttery things to her chest. He handed her the fruit and pulled out a knife and cutting board.

Surprising they trusted her with a knife. Not that she had any intention of trying to kill them both and escape into a busy city filled with aliens who considered her enemy number one. It might work well for picking the lock on her choker, though. She couldn’t stand the thing. It was too tight, too heavy. Plus, the very idea of the thing pissed her off. If she was family, if they trusted her enough to care for the children of the household, they had to give her a little autonomy. Well, they didn’t have to, but that’s what she wanted. She’d never liked to be micromanaged.

Gav’n leaned a hip against the counter, folded his arms across his chest, and watched her work. Actually, she thought he might be watching her breasts, which tightened and grew heavy under his dark stare. It ought to bother her more than it did. Instead, she enjoyed the sense of power it gave her.

These males found her desirable. Her—the plain, less-than-brilliant sister who would never do important things like win the Nobel Prize in economics or represent their planet in United Galaxy discussions.

She lined the knife up over the fruit.

“Other way,” Gav’n coached.

She turned it around and sliced through, squealing when a bit of bright-red juice hit her face.

Gav’n chuckled and leaned in, one large hand circling behind the small of her back. She spread her arms wide to keep from staining his uniform with the red juice. He pulled her into him and licked the spot of juice from her face. He smelled like cedarwood, or was it juniper? Something woodsy and masculine and wonderful. The warmth from his body radiated onto her bare skin.

Heat flooded her core. Another flick of his tongue—this time under her earlobe.

She drew in a breath and held it.

Slowly, he eased back and released her. “You taste delicious, little human.”

Dizzy, she couldn’t speak for a moment. When she regained her senses, she cleared her throat and pointed the tip of the knife at the swords on his shirt. “Is that the police symbol?”

“Military police, yes.”

He seemed too laid-back to be a police commissioner. But, no, the rest of it fit. He was capable and quick-moving. Quite experienced at restraining bodies, as she’d discovered the night before.

Jakk appeared in his work clothes—a sleek suit and well-shined shoes—like the general magistrate had worn when he’d visited their cell to question them. “Gav’n’s in charge of the entire force.” A note of pride rang out in Jakk’s voice.

“And Jakk holds one of the highest positions on Pra’kir, under the general magistrate and the Council of Nine.”

“Impressive.” She wondered if Jakk’s important status was why he’d been given a human to foster. She finished chopping the fruit and washed her hands. “Are you both leaving?” She touched the collar around her neck.

“I have to go into court today, but Gav’n will be here with you, except for a short interval this morning when he will have to leave you alone.” Jakk had turned stiff and formal again. It was hard to believe she’d just been snuggled up against this man.

“Okay.” She sought a towel to dry her hands but didn’t find one. Gav’n reached past her and hit a button under one of the cabinets, and a spray of warm air rushed out. “Ah. Thanks.”

“Be good for Gav’n. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

She resisted the urge to walk over and kiss him goodbye. The domestic scene seemed to call for something of the sort, but she didn’t know the proper protocol. Besides, she wasn’t sure they deserved her affection. Not when they had her naked and wearing a pet collar. Not after all the punishments she’d endured for not acting slave-like.

Jakk did seem to be hesitating, though, as if waiting for something, or was reluctant to leave. He turned and walked stiffly toward the front door.

“Have a good day,” she sang out, remembering what her parents used to say when one of them left the house.

He stopped and turned back, a small smile curving his lips and transforming his wooden expression. It sent a spike of warmth shooting through her. “You too, pashika.”

She smiled back before ducking her head. Damn, she shouldn’t cave so easily to the charm of these two brothers. Where was her pride? Self-respect?

She’d clearly lost her mind—and herself—under one night of Jakk and Gav’n’s erotic handling. They’d lulled her into the belief living here in Pra’kir might work for her. But, deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. It was still a prison, just a much nicer one.

 

~.~

 

It took all Gav’n’s self-control not to follow Mira into the shower and wash her beautiful body himself. But, if he did, she’d end up with her little hands pressed against the marble wall and his cock pounding her from behind until she screamed herself hoarse. And that would be against the rules.

Although Jakk was more worried about rules than he was. He knew their little human wanted them. He’d smelled her arousal, watched her sneak glances at their bodies. He’d seen the way her nipples puckered every time she got close to one of them. Hell, she’d already begged prettily for her climaxes yesterday. Getting her to beg for their cocks shouldn’t be too hard a feat.

But Jakk was right. The request had to come from her. If their treatment of her ever came into question, they needed to have a clear conscience on that point.

So, instead of barging into her shower time, he lounged on top of the bedcovers, ankles crossed, hands behind his head, waiting for her to return, dewy and clean.

He wasn’t disappointed. She emerged with a towel wrapped around her midsection, eyelashes clinging together. What about seeing a female wet made her even sexier? Her long hair fell over her shoulders, eyes bright against her rosy cheeks.

He pulled a frown. “Drop the towel, little one. You know we want you naked during your conditioning.”

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the movement of her swallow and the flutter of her increased pulse as she tugged off the towel.

“Better.”

Actually, it was divine. Her small body was like a work of art, every line graceful. One breast was slightly larger than the other, an asymmetry that only made her more perfect. He’d noticed that morning she still bore a few marks on her ass from her whipping the night before, and he had to admit he liked seeing evidence of their dominance, liked knowing she was theirs to correct.

Of course, what he liked best was their no clothing rule. Having Mira bared to them at all times had been a stroke of pure genius—other than the resulting permanent hard-ons he and his brother sported.

“We did, actually, order you some clothing.” He remained lounging on the bed, willing his straining cock to relax. “Not much because we weren’t sure whether it would fit.” He pointed to a storage tub stacked with a few items of clothing on the floor of the closet. “Take a look. It’s from an adolescent line, but we tried not to get anything too childish.”

She held up a navy-blue jumper and made a face. “This isn’t childish?”

He chuckled. “I’ll bet it will be cute on you—try it on.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Next, you’ll want a strip tease.”

He didn’t understand the translation for strip tease, but he grinned anyway. “Don’t get sassy. I like to punish naughty humans as much as Jakk does.”

She muttered something that sounded like, “Smug person-conceived-out-of-wedlock,” but picked up the jumper and pulled it on over her head. It only came to mid-thigh, framing her long, slender legs and giving her a sexy yet innocent appearance. She tugged at the hem, as if the dress might magically grow if she willed it to. “It’s too small.”

Way too small. Her breasts stretched the fabric in front, which hugged her narrow waist and flared again at the hips. His cock strained against his pants. “It’s perfect.”

She picked up a pair of panties.

“No panties. No bras.” He patted his knee.

She shook her head.

“One...two…”

She flounced over and threw herself onto his lap, lips set in a mulish line.

He tapped them, circling her waist with his arm. “Mira, one more sign of attitude from you and you’ll get the belt. I’m losing patience.”

She averted her gaze.

“I have a meeting this morning. It shouldn’t take too long. You may wear clothing while I’m gone—minus the panties—but you may not leave the townhouse. The clothing will come off when I return. Understand?”

She waited a beat before muttering, “Yes, Master.”

“The collar will prevent you from leaving the house unless we disable the shock function. There is a safety mechanism in case of fire. The alarm will shut off the shocker. It will also track you. When the girls come, you will be responsible for taking them to and from school. If you go anywhere except the places we’ve agreed, you will be punished. Severely.”

Her eyes darted to his then away. The first thread of concern found its way into his chest. His detective instincts told him she’d already been considering her escape.

He gripped her chin and turned her face to his. “Mira, the people of Endermere believe you are dangerous. Jakk and I know that’s not true, but if anyone saw you alone, there’s a chance they might attack in self-defense. It’s not safe for you to be out unaccompanied. Not to mention, Jakk and I would be in trouble with the Council of Nine for not keeping you under lock and key. Monitoring your movements is as much for your safety as it is part of our responsibility as your foster family.”

She nibbled her lip, a crease growing between her brows.

He rubbed it with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t worry. Eventually, things will settle down. They’ll stop showing that damn clip of your crash landing, and the neighbors will get used to seeing you around and learn you’re harmless. Until then, it’s necessary to restrict your movements.”

She sighed.

“You’re a smart woman. You know we’re right in this.”

“I understand your logic, yes. That doesn’t mean I like it.” She darted a quick glance at him. “Master.”

His lips quirked into a smile, he squeezed her hip. “I love hearing you call me that.”

Surprise flitted over her face. He stroked her cheek and leaned forward to claim her mouth.

She stiffened at first, but he swept his tongue along the seam of her lips, coaxing her to life. After a moment, her lips moved back with a tentative sweetness that turned his insides molten.

“Beautiful girl,” he murmured when they broke apart. He stroked her face again. “I’m so glad you’ve come to live with us. We’ll work hard make you happy here, I promise.”

Confusion clouded her face—hope warring with doubt, if he had to name what he saw there.

“Give us a chance. Yield to our will. Submit to our guidance, and we’ll give you everything we have.”

She surged to her feet, and he let her go. Stumbling, she found her way to the window and stood facing it.

After a moment, he came to stand behind her, touching her shoulders.

He felt her questions, her confusion, but doubted any words would answer them. Nothing he could say would soften the ache of homesickness or her loss of control over her life.

She faced a lifetime as their prisoner. He and Jakk had the impossible task of ensuring she understood her restricted place in their society, and also ease the pain of it. Would their sexual attentions be enough to distract her?

Somehow, with all he saw going on behind those beautiful eyes, he doubted it.