Page 10 of Caught By Menace

“But it’s a hard life down there on Calyx,” she said.

Menace seized his opening. “I can give you a better, easier life here, Naya. You’ll never be hungry. You’ll never be cold. You’ll have access to medicine and technology. You’ll never be alone again. I will take care of you.”

“Why?”

“Because owning a wife, mastering a woman, it’s a precious thing. It’s the one thing I’ve strived for all these years. Owning you is my reward.”

Her voice grew tight and annoyed. “I don’t want to be owned.”

He understood her frustration with her new classification. “The laws are the laws, Naya. I own you now, but that doesn’t mean you’re property. It simply means that I’m responsible for you. I will never treat you any differently.”

“Yeah, sure you won’t.”

“I won’t,” he insisted.

“Youownme, Menace. We’re different.”

“On paper,” he said. “In real life, it’s nothing like that. Don’t think of yourself as being owned. Think of yourself as my partner.”

“Your partner?” she repeated in disbelief. “You just said that mastering me is something precious. How can we be partners if you’re my master?”

“I want to be your master when we’re in here or in my—our—bedroom. The rest of our relationship would be equal.”

She rubbed her cheek and shook her head. “I don’t understand, Menace. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It’s because we’re from two vastly different cultures.” His gaze skipped around the playroom as he tried to think of a way to explain this to her. Noticing the way she rubbed her upper arms, he unbuttoned his uniform shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. “Here. Take this. You’re cold.”

She eyed the offered shirt for a distrusting moment before finally taking it. “Don’t think this is winning you any favors.”

He chuckled softly. “Believe me, Naya. I’m starting to understand just how hard I’m going to have to work to earn your trust.”

“Good luck,” she said grumpily and slipped into his shirt. “That extra appendage between your legs has automatically put you on my shit list.”

He grimaced. “Could we maybe tone down the language a bit?”

She blinked at him. “You have a problem with cursing?”

“I do.”

“But you’re a soldier. You’re, like, a soulless killing machine. You hunted me down like a rabbit and dragged me back to your ship like a prize. I’m supposed to believe someone cold enough to do that to me doesn’t like to hear a goodfuck youonce in a while?”

He gritted his teeth at her description of him. “I amnota soulless killing machine. Every single life I’ve taken in battle has stayed with me.” He tapped his chest. “I carry the horror of war with me every day. It’s not a game to me, Naya.”

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she finished buttoning the shirt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He sighed and slashed his hand through the air. “It’s fine. It’s forgotten. I’m sure you’ve spent most of your life hearing awful things about my people.”

She nodded. “So far most of them have proven true.”

He followed her gaze to the wall of impact-play implements. Remembering her earlier statement, he clarified, “This isn’t a torture chamber. This is a playroom.”

“Playroom?” She laughed. “I think words may not have the same meaning in your culture as they do in mine. A playroom is where kids keep their toys.”

“Well, this is a playroom for adults. These are our toys.”

“Your toys, maybe,” she replied hotly. Pointing at the wall, she said, “I am brutally aware of whatthosefelt like on my bare ass. I assure you there was nothing playful about it, Menace.”

His gaze moved to the thin, snappy cane. “You’ve been caned?”

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