Page 21 of Surrender
Little shudders afflicted her, and warmth quaked in her center. Her mind whirled with confusion. She wished she could control her visceral reactions to Merokk’s threats, as well as his nearness. The prospect of punishment at his hand ought to frighten her more than it did. It certainly shouldn’t leave her breathlessly aching for his touch.
She tried to steady her breaths, not wishing for Merokk to realize just how excited she was becoming. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any success, and the heated longing in her core only deepened with each shaky exhale.
He stared at her quietly and she wished she could read his mind. What was he thinking about? Did he harbor regrets about marrying her? Did he dislike her humanness? Would he prefer it if she were a Kall female?
Uncertainty swept through her.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in Camp Syracuse, with her mother, trying to survive with all the other refugees—trying to keep her mother from being noticed by the murderous Kall warriors who patrolled the camp. She shuddered. Well, she didn’t missthatpart, nor did she miss the horrid worry that had always churned in her stomach, from the second she awoke to the second she drifted to sleep.
Merokk removed his shirt and walked closer, still staring at her quietly, as if he were sizing her up, or perhaps contemplating how to best torment her.
Maybe he wished his people had never gone to war with Earth. Then he wouldn’t have been forced to marry her. He might be on his homeworld at this very moment, perhaps with a female of his own kind, a female of his choosing.
A sense of inadequacy washed over her, but she was quick to chide herself for such ridiculous thoughts. What did it matter if Merokk approved of her? What did it matter if he wanted her as his wife? The Kall-Earth treaty had decreed their union. Neither of them had had a choice.
Merokk started walking around her, circling her with slow but steady steps. She lowered her head and stared at the floor, waiting for him to make a move. A shuddering breath drifted from her lips.
Would she always feel so nervous around him?
He paused behind her and abruptly drew her to her feet. He held her sideways against him as he cupped her backside, caressing her cheeks as a growl rumbled from his massive form.
“Is your bottom still sore from the spanking you received last night?”
“Um, no.” It was the truth. Before claiming her last night, he’d turned her over his knee and given her two dozen or so hard smacks. Only a lingering soreness had remained when she awoke this morning, but it had completely faded throughout the day. Even when he gave one of her cheeks a particularly hard squeeze, she didn’t feel any lasting discomfort from the spanking.
He leaned down and nuzzled his nose along her ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over her body. Repeated pangs of warmth resounded between her thighs, the growing strength of the sensation making her slightly lightheaded.
“In that case,” he finally replied, “I think I ought to redden your backside, little one. I think you’ll be much more obedient as you’re sucking my cock if you have a sore bottom.”
A whimper left her.
She wanted to protest his decision, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Even if she struggled or tried to escape his grasp, he would simply restrain her and continue with his plans to spank her. Except if she resisted, she might earn a true punishment at his hand. She gave an inward sigh and hoped she could remain still, hoped she could remain compliant as he applied his flattened palm to her defenseless bottom.
He wrapped one arm around her front, holding her in place, then cupped her ass with his free hand. She tensed, waiting for the first blow.
He smacked her bottom a second later, but it was a light slap.
Shaky breaths escaped her as he continued to pepper her ass with soft blows that were barely audible in the cavernous room. His pace was rapid but the spanks so light she didn’t feel a sting, only a delicious building warmth.
As he continued, she found herself unable to keep from gasping at the pleasure that steadily mounted between her thighs. She ached for him and whimpered, knowing that he probably wouldn’t caress her pussy anytime soon. At least not until she’d finished sucking his cock.
He paused and drew back to admire his handiwork, rubbing her cheeks gently as he made a guttural noise of approval in his throat. “Very nice,” he said. “You look adorable like this, with your bottom freshly spanked and wetness gathering between your thighs.”
“I-I’m not wet!” she protested, even as her face flamed with the knowledge that she was indeed very, very wet. There was no denying the mounting ache in her core, nor the slickness she felt rubbing between her legs with her every little movement.
He gave her a sudden hard slap, one that actually hurt. “Don’t lie to me, little one.”
“I-I’m sorry, Merokk,” she replied immediately, as she recalled the leather strap he’d recently shown her. The strap that was meant for serious offenses—like lies. She prayed he would let this one little lie slip without reaching for the strap.
He released her and moved in front of her, his eyes blazing with heat. He nodded at the rug.
“On your knees again, Betsy.”
She obeyed, lowering herself to the floor as her heated bottom came into contact with her heels. He tore off his shirt, then unfastened his pants and stepped out of them in one elegant motion. He wasn’t wearing underwear—she’d never seen him wear any before—and his erect cock sprang free.
He stepped closer, holding his length in hand, aiming for her mouth, his manner entirely self-assured. He was a man who knew what he wanted and wouldn’t hesitate to take it.
