His Human Rebel (Zandian Masters 4)

His intention suddenly became crystal clear. Even more so when he stripped the leather sword belt from his waist.

A starstorm of flutters kindled in her belly, and her palms turned clammy and cold. But still no alarms went off spurring her to fight or flee. A whipping from a giant, angry alien was endurable. Because he was an angry, giant alien who cared about her. One who had lied to his superior in order to handle her punishment on his own.

She’d accept whatever he had to give her.

Acceptance didn’t stop her legs from shaking as she walked to the cot and lay over the rolled blanket, which lifted and tilted her bare ass up for Lundric’s punishment.

He wound the buckle end of the belt around his fist in what seemed like an agonizing delay. The entire time, the skin on her buttocks twitched in anticipation of the whipping.

When the first stroke landed like a line of pure fire, she flung a leg off the cot, lurching to get away. Lundric stopped her with nothing more than a stern point of his finger. She froze, halfway off the cot.

“Get back in position and stay there until I say you can get up.” The tightness in his voice gutted her.

“Yes, Captain,” she whispered, her throat hoarse. She obeyed despite the agony of the first welt. If he needed this to make them whole again, she’d give it. What she feared most, though, was that it wouldn’t. That nothing would repair the rift she’d put between them.

He whipped her with his belt, over and over again, striking the lower part of her buttocks. Each stroke seared her bare skin, marking it and leaving her raw. The strokes fell too quickly for her to cry. Ten. Twenty. Thirty strokes. Her legs writhed on the cot, but she stayed where he’d commanded, absorbing his anger, his retribution. He stopped at forty.

She panted into the cot, struggling to catch her sobbing breath. Her bottom throbbed in time with her pulse. She imagined it must be swollen and raw.

Lundric hadn’t moved. She didn’t have the courage to look at him but sensed him still standing at her side, towering over her with dark bitterness.

Because she had no excuse, because any apology she gave would fall flat, she offered the one thing her position allowed. She spread her legs.

Lundric’s breath audibly caught. He neither spoke nor breathed for what seemed like a long moment. Finally, he asked, “You think you deserve my cock?” There was a sneer to his voice, but underneath she heard layers of hurt.

“No,” she croaked. Now the tears that hadn’t come during the whipping smarted. His punishment she could take, but his rejection? She’d rather go through ten Ocretion executions than endure the pain of losing Lundric.

“The only place you’ll be taking my cock is in your ass.”

It vecking gutted her that he left off the little human, or one of the other endearments he had for her, but she celebrated the fact he still wanted her.

“Do you want to take it there?”

Sweet Mother Earth, even in his anger, he still respected her agency. Was he giving her a choice?

“Yes, please.” She almost didn’t recognize her voice, which sounded tiny.

Lundric uttered a harsh curse, the first outward sign he’d given of his turmoil. He picked up her hips and shifted her onto her knees, perpendicular to the bed, her ass in the air, facing him. With her hands tied behind, her face rested on the mattress. She heard a rustle of movement and the sweet-smelling citrus oil Lily had given her dribbled down her crack.

She nearly wept at the kindness because there was no way Lundric’s huge cock would fit in her tight ass otherwise. “Lundric, I—”

His palm crashed down on her welted ass, and her words broke off on a yelp. “Don’t speak unless spoken to.” His harsh edict made her nose burn.

She whimpered as the well-oiled head of his cock nudged her back entrance, and he applied steady pressure. She forced herself to breathe, willed her muscles to relax and accept his plunder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Quiet.” He breached her entranc

e. The sensation was half-pleasure, half-shame, and it had her pussy clenching with need. She wished she had use of her hands to touch herself there. But this wasn’t for her. It was an offering to Lundric, and while she couldn’t do much in her position to satisfy him, she could hold still and relax into the riot of sensation he caused.

“Veck, Cambry,” he spat as he braced her hips. “It doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll never be cured of the need to possess you.”

She sobbed, heat and desire and residual pain from her whipping turning her delirious.

“Tear out my vecking heart. Use me. Manipulate me with that body. That smile. I’ll still want to mark you forever as mine.”

“Lundric, please—”

“Did you think I used you back?” he cut her off, harshly. “Do you think all I wanted was this? To veck this pretty little body as much as I wanted? I never vecking used you. I could’ve taken you any way I liked. No. My part was real. I killed for you. I would die for you. You are my vecking female. I love you.