Cave Alien (Ancient Earth Aliens 1)

“Stay here,” I repeat. “We can discuss whether or not you can marry a mountain when I get back. I need to scout this area.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

“It may not be safe. It is almost certainly not safe. Where I go, death has a tendency to follow.”

“Not for me.”

“You’re the exception I intend to ensure stays the exception. Stay here.”

I can tell she’s thinking about disobeying me. Tres may have been taught to be submissive to inevitable death, but she rebelled against her tribe in the end. Now she is untethered from the truth she used to know, and she could be capable of anything.

“If you don’t stay here, I’m going to punish you,” I add the threat.

She looks at me, more curiosity than fear filling her eyes.

“What would you do to me?”

It’s a simple question, and one I should have had the answer to before I made the threat. What could I possibly do to her that hasn’t already been done?

“I would be very disappointed.”

“That’s not a punishment.” She is smiling. I don’t think I have seen her smile before, not this kind of smile, one which has life and mischief in it. I like that smile, though I don’t think it bodes well for either one of us.

“I would… I would…”

I am not often lost for words, but I can’t use any of my normal threats. She wouldn’t survive them, even if I were prepared to use any of them on her.

“You’re not going to do anything to me,” she smiles, even more broadly. "You saved my life for a reason. You’d do anything for me.”

She’s right. I would do anything for her. I would kill for her. Die for her. But I won’t let her disobey me just because she knows how much she is loved.

“I will spank you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Let me show you what it means.”

Tres

He takes me by the hand and pulls me close first, then over his thighs. I am not afraid of him. I never have been. No matter how fierce and strange he looks. I was born to be thrown into a volcano. I don’t know how to be afraid of death, or of dangerous things.

I hear a staccato noise, followed by a sharp sensation across my lower cheeks. I should barely notice it, given that my body is covered in bruises from the tribe, but this is a lighter, sharper sensation which carries an entirely different intention and feeling. When they hit me, I felt my soul cower. When he swats me, I feel myself unfurl. He is not doing this hard enough to hurt me. I have been hurt enough, and we both know it.

This is an act of holding, of gentle, powerful control. I feel myself melting against him. There is no need to resist this discipline he is imposing as it falls in a steady rain across my cheeks, light taps which let me feel the strength he is choosing not to use.

We both know he could crush me if he wanted, physically and emotionally. My challenge to him was not a real attempt at disobedience. It was an act of curiosity, to see what this alien beast would do if I did not obey him.

I have triggered his dominance, but he is not offended by the question of my behavior. There is no urgency or cruelty in his response. He lets me wriggle, allows me to feel him holding me, swatting me, keeping me in the place he has made for me, the bed of his thighs where I am at once safe and under control.

“You will do as I say,” he growls softly. His voice intense, but not rough. There is no anger in him, just a firmness, determination, and a desire which makes my legs spread of their own accord. I want him to touch me where he first claimed me. I want to know that more than anything, I am his.

My life was never mine. I don't know what to do with it. But I might know what to do if I belonged to him in the way a woman can belong to a man. I don’t know if Vulcan thinks of me that way. I don’t know what he thinks at all. He gives me orders, expects me to follow them. He insists I live, shows me that I have some value as something other than a corpse.

“Vulcan…” I almost whisper his name.

“Yes?”

“What am I… to you? What kind of a thing am I? I’m not like you…”

His big finger extends against my skin and strokes my inner thigh thoughtfully.

“You’re not like me,” he agrees. “You’re a human. A soft little female, and you come from a time that should remain untouched. But I can’t keep my hands off you. You’re mine, Tres. You will always be mine. Always and forever, backwards and forwards, in and out of time. And right now, I’m going to show you how much you’re mine.”