He cried out when he came, demanding she joined him, which she did. The heat rose inside her—a liquid fountain.
With her legs back on the bed, he released her bindings and checked her wrists. The little touches of kindness seemed out of place, but genuine. He had an attentive look as he examined her and not just her wrists—he ran his hand along her inner thighs. There weren’t any bruises forming, only the bright glow of her tattoos.
“Good,” he murmured. “I don’t want to harm you.”
Her eyelids drooped, as they often did after they’d fucked. He leaned over her, as if he wanted to kiss her, then backed away. Instead, he handed her Mr. Cuddles. She would prefer a kiss and more than that; she wanted to spend the night with him and lie in his arms.
The pattern of that day was repeated the next day, and the next. The only variant was his choice of where he fucked her. He alternated his choice of entry, but never used both in the same evening. It helped build her stamina and suppleness, two things that were very necessary for sex with an alien.
She continued to act slavishly. Or perhaps it wasn’t a
n act. Her submission came naturally and so did her orgasms. The necessity to obey came from deep within. What else was buried inside her that she’d not explored? As long as she complied with Galen’s version of the ordeal, she would discover things about herself she’d never known, or wanted to know.
So far, since the whipping, she was handling Galen and his so-called punishments.
Until Bisma came with news.
“I have to tell you that Galen wishes to enact a new part of the ordeal.” Bisma’s face flushed. Zara took this to be an ominous piece of information.
“What exactly?”
“It requires your best behavior. He’s pleased with your progress and…” Bisma disappeared into the bathroom, her voice trailing away after her.
Zara leapt off the bed and followed her in.
“Undress. Come, come.” Bisma bustled, searching among her supply of oils and balms.
“And what?”
Bisma shook her head. “No time for chatter. He’ll explain.”
Bisma didn’t seem to want to tell her. Whatever Galen had planned, Bisma wasn’t letting on.
Chapter Ten
Bisma escorted Zara to Galen’s room. Zara thought this a good sign. She wished he would stop coming to her room and use his instead. He’d much more space and a comfortable bed. And also, if he let her fall asleep in his bed, he might let her stay for the night.
Bisma knocked on the door and they entered.
Galen wasn’t alone. With him was a tall man wearing a pure white suit. He stared first at Bisma, who blushed, then Zara, who felt like running out of the room. She covered her naked body with her arms and tried to make herself smaller. There was equipment, things that she didn’t like the look of, especially the narrow bench with deep padding across the top and sides.
“Thank you, Bisma, you may go,” Galen said sharply.
Zara nearly clung to Bisma’s arm, but didn’t. Things didn’t bode well for her and her one friend in the house had just walked out of the door. Neither was she in the mood for sinking onto her knees. Her natural submission wasn’t exploding to the surface. She’d buried it again. What she felt was annoyed and very human.
“Zara, this Doctor Sentaria. He’s a specialist in the development of medical tattoos.”
“Oh, is he,” she muttered.
Galen’s eyebrows rose. The doctor was watching her closely. Zara didn’t have to see her tattoos. She felt no tingling or warming sensation under the skin. She wasn’t hot for anything.
The judge moved toward her, planting himself between her and the doctor. “My friend is interested in how tattoos can demonstrate emotions. He uses them to help with exploring both physiological conditions, like nerve damage, and mental ones. He’s here because you are the first human to be inked with this kind of tattoo.”
“And, he’s going to do what exactly?” she said haughtily.
Galen frowned. “I’d hoped you would be a little more courteous, Zara. You’re treading on thin ice.”
She pressed her lips together.