Their Zandian Mate (Zandian Masters 9)

His head swam and his horns stiffened as a kick of lust rushed through him. Every fantasy he’d entertained the past two planet rotations involving their beautiful prisoner was about to come true. Eslyn naked and on her knees, at their mercy for punishment and pleasure. Eslyn bound to the bed, her legs spread wide, pussy glistening with readiness. And beyond sex, Eslyn safely tucked on his lap while Laake and Granit entertained her young. And he had imagined Laake and Granit a part of it. Because they were brothers to him and with the scarcity of females, he would never keep the honor and luxury of a female to himself.

“Is she ours?” Laake asked, his eyes gleaming.

“This is not a permanent placement. That determination is yet to be made. I will reevaluate when her reconditioning is complete.”

A niggle of foreboding interrupted Damon’s internal celebration. What in the hell did that mean? Would the prince take her away from them when they finished? Give her back to her former mates? Veck that. Whatever they had to do to prove to Prince Zander they were worthy of caring for and rehabilitating this female, they’d do it.

Laake bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

Granit handed Eslyn her infant and took her elbow, turning her around to face the exit.

Damon didn’t move, blocking her passage with his body. She lifted her beautiful face, eyes wide. A visible shiver ran through her at whatever promise she saw in his eyes.

He cupped her chin. Excitement radiated from his brothers, amplified by the jealous tension of nearly every male in the room. He didn’t know how he and his brothers got so lucky—so honored—for this task, but he thanked every star in the galaxy. He traced his thumb over her lower lip. “Ready, little flower?”

She blinked up at him, her thick lashes achingly feminine. “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

His cock thickened at her submissive words. Master. They were her masters now. “Follow me.”

Chapter 2

Eslyn’s heart hammered as her new masters led her back to her chamber. Granit limped beside her, his huge hand wrapped around her elbow. He wasn’t the one who frightened her the most, though. It was the one in front—Damon, based on the prince’s decree. He’d guarded her door, too. All three had. Granit and Laake, the younger one, were imposing. Large, muscle-bound warriors, they appeared both deadly and capable. But when they looked at her, their features softened. No doubt they, too, felt the pull of breeding hormones and found her attractive.

Not Damon. He may find her attractive, but more like he wanted to devour her. When he’d taken her chin back in the hall, his eyes had shone with dark promise. As if he relished having her at his mercy.

And she must be mad, because her fear of him was equally matched by excitement. Unlike her former mates, he didn’t inspire dread. Just thrills of heat and anticipation. What would her punishment be? Would he administer it?

Actually, the thought of any of the three delivering discipline made her head swim with desire. But tangled up in it was her ever-present worry. What would happen with her children? Would they allow her to still see them? What fate awaited her former mates? Would they be released after reconditioning, too? If so, would they come for her? Would the prince return her to them when it all was over?

Her stomach twisted in a knot. She dared not get too comfortable with these mates if she was just to be returned to the males she’d come to hate.

“Do not be afraid, female. Our punishment will be fair.” Laake, the youngest and friendliest of the three warriors, laid his hand on her back.

“Thank you, Master Laake.”

The warrior made a rumbling sound low in his throat. Was it disapproval?

“I-I’m sorry—”

“I know.” Damon spoke over her, grinning at Laake. “I liked when she called me master, too.”

Granit made an affirmative growl.

Her pussy clenched, though there was nothing sexy about what he’d said. Why did they enjoy her subservience? Why did she like hearing it?

Damon pressed his palm to the control panel next to her door and the door slid open. She’d never seen such technology. Even before the Finnian invasion, she’d lived away from the capitol, out in the country. Her family had been simple farmers. They hadn’t had anything close to the wealth and finery of Prince Zander’s pod.

Granit released her elbow for her to pass through the door, but his palm connected with her ass in a light slap.

Her pussy squeezed again. She carried Sol to the floating crib and laid him in it, closing the soundproof cover and activating soft music for him. He cooed and gurgled, kicking his legs and reaching for his toes.

“So,” Laake said, horns tilting in her direction. “How shall we punish her?” He looked to Damon, which didn’t surprise her. Although he wasn’t the biggest of the three, he seemed to be their natural leader. The most ruthless. Like Sankro.

No, not like Sankro. At least she hoped not. Sankro lacked the intelligence she saw behind Damon’s gaze. His dominance had been pure evil brutishness.

Damon strolled over to the hover disk where she slept, and she realized equipment had appeared while they were gone. A bin of, oh, stars—were they implements of torture?—sat on the mattress. He pulled out a thin, reed-like instrument and slapped it against his palm.

She choked on a breath.