“Yes.”
He released his hold on my wrists and helped me to stand before him, close enough to be situated between his spread knees. My bottom was hot and stung from the spanking. His size was great enough that his eyes were not in line with my breasts. That did not mean that I did not feel any less exposed and vulnerable, even more so now that he pointed out the error of my ways.
“I need to check your implant.”
His words stirred me from my thoughts. I was surprised that he could switch to another topic so readily. He’d meted out my punishment and it was time to move on?
“I assume your neuroprocessor is working properly, since you seem to understand everything said to you.”
I frowned. “What?” What was he talking about? What neuroprocessor?
“Do not be afraid, small one.” I was average height and at least two dress sizes bigger than the medical charts on Earth said I should be. I was not small, but standing in front of my new mate, I felt almost tiny, and very, very female.
Tark lifted his hands to my head and ran his fingers up the sides of my face to the top of each temple, just above my eyes. He must have found what he was looking for because when he applied a very small amount of pressure, I felt two foreign bumps pressing into the bone of my skull. It wasn’t painful, but definitely odd.
“What is that?” The moment Tark removed his hands, I lifted my own shaking fingers to the same spots and felt the small bumps beneath my skin.
“They are advanced neuroprocessing units, or NPUs. All advanced member races of the Interstellar Bride Program have them implanted at birth. The NPU increases your brain’s ability to process and learn language and mathematics, and improves memory. We are speaking now in my planet’s common tongue, which was downloaded to your NPU before you arrived.”
Holy shit. I was a cyborg or something now?
“I have alien technology implanted in my head? Are there little wires running to my brain cells? How did the NPU system integrate and communicate with the organic tissue?” My medically trained mind had a hundred questions and no answers.
Tark’s eyes widened and his lip quirked. “Aren’t you the curious one?”
Instead of answering my questions, he glanced at the table in the middle of the room. “Lie down again, Evelyn Day.” His voice was still deep, but lacked the biting edge he’d had when spanking me.
I couldn’t avoid my mate or what he planned to do to me. I could try, but decided against it because my bottom was very sore and still suffering the consequences of my previous actions. While the doctor had pricked my ire, Tark made me feel something else entirely. I wasn’t happy that he’d spanked me—absolutely not—but he did make a clear argument and I had been in the wrong. I liked that he’d given the punishment, then moved on. I, too, felt I should move on from it as well. Learn from it, of course, for I didn’t wish to go through that again. I reached back and gently rubbed my hot skin.
Odd. There was something about him, his power, his protectiveness—he had protected me from the doctor—and his dominance that was very appealing. Looking at how well his large body was defined in his dark clothes, I wanted to please him. Besides that, I itched to run my hands over his arms to feel his biceps, over his broad shoulders, down his chest. Surely his abdominals would be hard and well defined. And lower…
I went over to the table and Tark followed. With his hands at my hips, he lifted me up onto the metal surface and I hissed at the cool contact with my overheated bottom.
“Lie back,” Tark told me.
Licking my lips, I settled back onto the table as I watched his eyes rove over my body. Unlike the doctor, Tark looked at me with arousal, definitely, but also something like reverence. I keenly felt the heated slide of his gaze, as if his fingers were actually tracing the curves of my flesh.
“As I said, you must be examined to ensure you are well. I have plans for you, gara.”
I could do nothing but lick my dry lips at the raspy sound of his voice.
“I will touch you now.”
I gasped when his hand cupped my breast, for the touch was gentle, yet I felt rough calluses on his palm.
He watched as my nipple tightened, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over the taut peak, shifting the gold ring.
“Why… why the rings?” I asked, my voice soft. I shivered at the idea of a stranger—who was also my mate—touching me.
“We adorn our women and find the rings both beautiful and arousing.” He watched my breast as he replied. “All of our mates have rings placed in their nipples. It is a sign of claiming and respect.”
“They don’t hurt,” I said.
He smiled then. “I hope not. My touch should bring you pleasure, gara, nothing else.”
No, they didn’t hurt at all. Instead, the soft tug and pull of the metal felt incredible. My nipples had always been sensitive, but now, I arched my back to press into his palm more fully.
“You were processed according to our social customs. It normally takes several weeks for the rings to heal and I had no intention of waiting that long before I touched you… here.” He flicked the ring and I gasped. “A perk of the transfer… for both of us.”