Page 17 of Brute's Mate

But I can’t claim I didn’t enjoy every moment. The kiss was explosive. Passionate. The feel of his fingers stroking my nether region, pure magic. The climax wasn’t what I expected. It was so much more. It made me see stars, made me soar past galaxies and wormholes, shattered me completely. But then Brute was there to catch me.

He's still holding me. God, I love being in his arms. Despite his repeated threats to punish me if I dare to disobey him, I feel safe in his embrace. His masculine scent surrounds me, calming me further. I muse that I could easily fall asleep in his arms. I could happily stay here for days on end, in this secluded alcove, just the two of us.

Brute places his lips at my ear, and his warm exhales send a thrill through my insides. “I want to inspect your buttocks, little female. I’m going to take you over my lap, and I expect you to be a good female while I do it. If you resist, I won’t hesitate to smack your bottom.”

My breath hitches and I’m tempted to argue. But a stern look from him has me nodding my agreement. I don’t want a spanking. Not in the alcove where anyone might walk by and hear it happening. My face flames with shame at the thought.

He lifts me briefly, then guides me down over his sturdy thighs, and I feel my pants and panties sliding farther down my legs, nearly to my ankles. Beneath my lower stomach, I detect the hardness of his shafts. Are they hard all the time? If so, how does he walk around like that? It seems like it would be a very uncomfortable thing, possessing two cocks. I remember his comment about vibrating balls and how if he claimed me from behind, they would press directly on my clit. If he could bring me to pleasure with careful strokes of his finger, I imagine vibrations would feel even better, though I suppose I won’t know for certain until we mate.

Wait, no.

Never. We’re never going to mate.

I can’t let it happen.

I can’t abandon my mother. She can’t lose two daughters. It would break her, and I sober a bit as I realize the precariousness of my situation with Brute. I silently berate myself for kissing him back and squirming on his lap and not resisting when he delved a hand down my pants.

He cups my bottom, taking a cheek in each hand, and a heated flush steals my breath. I try to fight the excitement that surges anew between my thighs, the exquisite ache that I now understand signifies my arousal. My need for a climax.

I gasp when he suddenly draws my cheeks apart, exposing my pucker and the entirety of my center. There’s a cool blast of air, though it’s not very cold in the alcove. I suppose I’m just extra sensitivedown there. But for a reason I can’t fathom, my feelings of exposure only heighten the unwanted pulses in my nether area.

Oh no. Oh God. Am I becoming wet again?

Why does he want to inspect my bottom?

“Please,” I say, unable to keep from begging. “Please let me get up, Officer Brute. Please, this is so embarrassing. You shouldn’t look at me there.”

“You will become my mate soon, little female, and as your husband, it’s my right to look upon you whenever I wish. To spread your intimate parts wide for inspection.” He releases my ass cheeks, and I assume he’s about to let me up. Instead, he splays my bottom apart with one hand and taps a finger against my pucker.

Sensation zings through all the nerve endings in my body. I gasp and try to evade his touch. Though I attempt to slide off his lap, he rearranges me over one knee and drapes his free leg atop my kicking ones.

“Naughty,” he says in a scolding tone. “I warned you to behave while I inspected you, little female. You disobeyed, which means you’ve earned a punishment.”

I peer over my shoulder, ready to plead for a second chance, only to notice him stick his ear to the curtain while holding his breath. It takes me a few seconds to realize what he’s doing—listening for passersby in the corridor. My stomach flips.

Is this really about to happen?

I squirm and thrash in his hold but he’s quick to restrain me. When I reach around to shield my bottom, he grasps my wrists in one hand and pins them to my lower back.

Our eyes meet and I quiver at the aura of dominance that surrounds him. Waves of surrender flow through me, though I keep telling myself I should fight. I should scream.

“Perhaps you’ll be more cooperative during your inspection if your bottom is red and stinging.” He lifts his hand and brings it down on my buttocks with a resounding crack.

The quick lash of pain causes me to gasp and renew my struggles. I try to propel myself off his lap. I groan in frustration when my efforts prove futile. “Let me up, you savage!”

“Savage, is it?” He smacks my ass again, and this time the sting is worse. “Any other names you’d like to call me while I have you in this most vulnerable position?”

I open my mouth, ready to call him every bad word I know, but when he lifts his palm again, I blurt, “No more, please! It hurts.”

“You’re being punished, Jenny. It’s supposed to hurt. I want you to feel this punishment every time you sit down for the next few days. I want it to serve as a reminder that I expect your total obedience. You will become a Darrvason bride soon, and the sooner you are accustomed to the ways of my people, the better.”

Tears burn in my eyes as he continues the spanking. It’s a shock to my system. No one has ever struck me before. And the knowledge that I’m draped over his knee with my thighs spread wide, my feminine folds on display, only deepens my embarrassment.

He pauses every few seconds to press his ear to the curtain and listen for passersby. Then he returns to walloping my ass, even striking the lower curve of my cheeks and my upper thighs. Those swats sting especially bad, and it doesn’t take long for a sob to erupt from my throat. Tears stream down my face and I hate that he’s making me cry.

“You’re a terrible brute!” I gasp, only to feel like an idiot because that’s his name. As though reading my thoughts, he chuckles. His name-sound translates tobrutein Galactic Common, though I have no idea what it means in Darrvason. Maybe in Darrvason it meansoverbearing asshole.

He pauses again and doesn’t resume spanking me immediately. He strokes my back and caresses my cheeks, and I freeze when I hear footsteps and voices approaching. He doesn’t order me not to call out to the passersby, but I don’t even think about it.

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