Daneth—her master who had shown her more patience and kindness than any master she’d had, the male who lost control every time she used sex as a weapon—suffered greatly because of what she’d done.
He’d said little all planet rotation, but he’d rubbed his face or buried his head in his hands more times than she could count. He’d worked in his lab for the entire morning then, the rest of the planet rotation, he’d paced and frowned and rubbed his face some more.
She gnawed her own lip raw watching him, experiencing his distress as if it were her own.
Had she made the wrong choice? She’d only been trying to protect herself. She hadn’t wanted to be used as a vessel, to have another child taken from her. But now she felt profoundly selfish. Daneth was trying to do something big—much bigger than himself. His desire to create a Zandian child was not for his own gain, but to save his species. And she’d destroyed his best chance at it.
Worse still, she wasn’t sure she wished him success with his last-ditch effort to create another embryo. Because she would be the receptacle. She would be losing another baby.
But maybe it would be worth it. A sacrifice for the species. Not her species, but not a bad species. No one wanted to see a species go extinct. Not when there was a chance to save it. Yes, it was her duty. If Daneth was able to create another embryo, she would offer her body up. No more parsley tea.
“This evening is our weekly meal,” Daneth told Bayla when he returned to his chamber.
She sat up from where she’d been lounging in her open cage.
“Every ten planet rotations we eat. We all dine together in the grea
t hall. You don’t have to come, but I’ll bring you if you like.”
She crawled out of the cage. “I’d love to.” She’d been bored as hell since she arrived on the pod, not that she was complaining. She’d been enjoying the lack of work and the luxurious surroundings. But getting out and observing the Zandians interacting together would be far better than staying cooped up alone.
“I bought you some clothes.” He tossed a wrapped package on the sleepdisk. His face sagged, appearing haggard and tired, as if he’d just passed forty planet rotations without sleep.
No one had ever bought her anything before. Despite her guilt, she couldn’t stop the pitter patter of excitement that rose up in her as she peeled back the paper of the neatly wrapped package. Inside lay a silky blue garment, the exact shade of her eyes. She picked it up and gasped. The fabric was so soft and fine, it slid through her fingers like a live being. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
Daneth didn’t reply, only glancing absently in her direction before changing his clothing. The light had truly dimmed behind his eyes, leaving nothing but a shell of the male she’d come to...love? Surely not. Yet why else would she care more about his fate than her own? Care enough to sacrifice what was left of her mothering soul to give up another child?
`She slipped it on—a skin-hugging sheath that clung to her curves all the way to her knees. The halter top tied behind her neck and plunged into a sexy vee between her breasts.
Daneth turned and then stopped, his mouth falling open. “Oh veck. You can’t wear that.”
She tugged the hem of the dress down, ran her hands over her hips. Did she look too round? Too risque? “Why not?”
Daneth rubbed his jaw. “I’ll have to fight the unmated males off you.”
“I’ll take it off.” She wasn’t about to be contrary with him that night, not after she’d caused his present state of misery.
“No,” he said sharply. “No. I want to look at you in it. You’re so beautiful. I need something as breathtaking as you to keep my mind off…things. But if any male touches you—”
“I won’t let anyone touch me,” she said quickly.
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “You’d better not. Take off your panties.”
“Pardon me?”
“You heard me. Take off your panties. I want to know that hot pussy is bare and waiting for my touch during dinner.” He stalked toward her with the intensity of a predator.
She sucked in a breath, the sharp thrill of seeing the life back in him too pleasurable to move.
“Too slow.” He twirled her to face the sleepdisk and bent her over it, rucking the dress up to her waist.
She reached back to pull off her panties, but he beat her to it, yanking them down to her ankles in a rough movement. His hand came down in a flurry of spanks, peppering her bare ass and the backs of her thighs. He slapped her legs open and spanked her pussy. He didn’t say a word as he spanked, and while he slapped hard and steady, she didn’t get the impression that he was angry with her.
No, he was marking her. Leaving his prints on her flesh to remind her she belonged to him—only him.
And she loved it. The pain registered only as heat and sensation, as the beginning of pleasure.
He spanked her until her entire ass, pussy, and upper thighs radiated heat, and then he stopped, rubbing his palm over the stinging flesh. “Good girl,” he murmured. “You take your spankings like a good girl.”