Training His Human (Zandian Masters 3)

The first slap of his enormous palm came almost as a relief—the actual punishment was better than the anticipation that had been twisting and coiling in her belly. Then pain bloomed, and she started to fight anew. He spanked her fast and hard, a steady pace that covered every inch of the lower half of her buttocks.

Though she tried to keep her lips closed, not wanting him to know how quickly he’d conquered her, grunts and gasps slipped out and, at the loudest, he stopped and rested his paddle-like hand on her blazing skin.

Her back heaved with panting, and she arched, lifting her head to protest the ignominious position.

“Tell me something, beautiful female. Did you fight your Ocretion masters this way?”

Beautiful female. She wished his words didn’t affect her, but she liked hearing the endearment far too well.

“No,” she admitted after a moment.

Abruptly, his hand crashed down on her bottom again, slapping hard and fast.

She let out a mewl of protest.

“No, master,” he corrected. “Try it again.”

She stilled her struggles and closed her eyes. Something stubborn in her didn’t want to give in, even though she knew she’d never win this battle.

“You may keep resisting, little human, but I will break you in the end. And your punishment for displeasing the prince has not even begun.”

Tears began to smart her eyes, not from the pain—the spanking wasn’t light, but it wasn’t unbearable—but from the humiliation.

“No, master!” she croaked angrily.

He stopped spanking, smoothing his rough, calloused palm over her twitching buttocks.

“Is this rebellion for me alone?” His words came softly, as much a caress as the hand circling her burning bottom.

Her heart thundered. Heat swirled in her core. She didn’t understand his question, or the angle behind it, but the truth tumbled out before she could stop it. “Yes...master.” Again, the tears burned.

And just like that, Master Seke righted her, letting her robes fall back down over her bared ass as he plopped her on his lap, one arm looped around her waist. Her panties were still lowered, tangled around her thighs, which kept her humiliation in place.

He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, and she resisted the irrational urge to lean into the touch. “This training was not my design, Leora.” Regret echoed in the heaviness of his voice. “But it must be. You will humble yourself to me. I will punish you. And I will care for you, for that is the role of a master.”

Her pussy clenched at the same time something twisted in her solar plexus. Desire in conflict with pride. Fear smeared around and between both. She almost wanted to give herself over to him, to let him punish and care for her.

Almost.

“Will I be allowed to see Lamira?”

“After your initial training, yes. Keeping you from her will be used as a punishment only—for both of you.”

If this training was her fate, she wondered what punishment her daughter had met at her mate’s hands. He’d be careful with her because she carried his young. Even without the pregnancy, he’d be fair, though. She’d seen his love for Lamira.

Seke pushed her to her feet. “Release cuffs.” The wrist cuffs sprang apart. “Remove your clothing. Being naked before me is part of your training.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? I thought I was not to be used for breeding or sex.”

He landed a swat on the back of her thigh. “I will tolerate your questions today because you are adjusting to the change in our relationship. In the future, I expect obedience without question. The reason I require you naked is to humble you.”

Again, something twisted in her solar plexus and anger flashed. Her hands free, she lunged for his face, fingers curled into claws, aiming for his eyes.

He caught her wrists, and one of his feet pushed the backs of her knees so she plunged forward. Her strangled cry morphed into a groan as her knees hit the finely woven rug at his feet.

Seke’s expression hadn’t changed—his eyes glowed purple, but his face remained an inscrutable mask. He lifted her twisting hands to his face and stroked his cheek with them. She could have clawed his skin, could have inflicted that small wound, but her fascination with his action made her go quiet.

What was he doing?