Training His Human (Zandian Masters 3)

“That’s it, beautiful. You’re doing so well.” He struck her again.

A broken moan this time instead of the scream. It was worse—so much worse. His chest tightened with agony.

“Three.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I will not betray Prince Zander’s trust.”

He ran a hand up and down her back, which now glistened with a light sheen of perspiration.

“Faster,” she croaked. “Get it over with. Please, master.”

He gritted his teeth and lifted the whip, striking again.

She screamed the words this time, as if to get them out fast, so he applied the next line before she’d even finished, then another and another. Her words toppled over one another in a panicked screech, echoing off the walls of his chamber, surely carrying down the hall. She couldn’t finish the required speech after he reached seven, and he stopped, waiting for her to catch her breath, absorb the pain.

Her back shook with sobs, but no tears dampened her face.

“Please, no more,” she moaned, drawing shaky, terraced breaths.

He leaned over her, weaving his fingers into her thick copper waves and resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “The mercy is not mine to give, or you’d have it.”

“Seke…”

Veck—hearing his name on her lips made his heart lurch. He wanted to protect her from all this. To rescue her, to keep her safe.

“Ready, lovely girl?” he murmured in her ear.

“No,” she moaned, but she braced herself, lifting her head and drawing her shoulders down.

“We’re on eight.” He moved to her other side to be sure he kept the pain evenly distributed, and applied the whip again.

“Eight! I will not betray Prince Zander’s trust.”

The next one he laid just beneath her buttocks on the backs of her thighs, and her screech and shouted count rang with anger. “One more, little slave, and you need never see this whip again, so long as you keep your masters happy.” He laid the

last welt, hardly hearing her refrain as he spoke over her to release the voice-activated bonds.

He tossed a soft blanket around her and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to a sitting area of two hoverchairs nested together. Her little body trembled, and she hid her face in his neck, but he did not smell any tears. His chest tightened—she was so fragile, so vecking sweet.

~.~

She’d drifted to sleep—not for long, at least she didn’t think so. She still lay cradled in Seke’s arms, his huge hand stroking circles over her back. Her ass throbbed and burned, but desire also thrummed in her, hot and insistent, as if the pain had been simply foreplay.

What about Seke’s punishments made her body turn so wanton? It woke sleeping desires in her, made her hungrier than she’d ever been in her life. She shifted, squeezing her legs together in an effort to alleviate the ache there.

“You’re awake.” Seke’s lips were close to her ear, his breath warm and comforting.

She shifted on his lap and winced.

He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and adjusted her so her spread legs hooked over the tops of his knees and her bottom hung freely between his thighs, touching nothing. His huge, hard cock flexed against her sacrum.

“I smell your arousal, little human,” he murmured in her ear.

She tensed, shocked to hear her personal secretions were so evident. Zandians had to have a finer sense of smell than humans.

“Why are humans aroused by punishment?” Seke bent over, picking something up from beside the hover chair.

She spluttered. “We’re not! At least, I’ve never heard that before…” Where to take her protest? She couldn’t deny her own reaction to his punishment, but she didn’t think it was a given with humans and discipline.

Seke remained silent.