Page 29 of Kenan's Mate
I’m stunned by his question.
Is he trying to teach me a lesson? Is that what this is all about?
Maybe he’s not teasing, after all. Wiping at my tears, I stare into his eyes as he continues running the belt up and down my thighs.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
He snaps the belt across my stomach, but not especially hard. In fact, the sting barely registers. “Yes you do, Laylah. If you were a bad little girl, would you submit to your punishment?”
I ignore the flush of arousal his scolding tone provokes. “What does it matter, Kenan? You’ll punish me whether I submit to it or not.” Bitter tears escape my eyes, even as the wetness between my thighs increases.
Why am I like this? Why was I never really attracted to any of the boys my age back on Earth, but this huge mean alien makes me quiver with need, even when I think he might punish me? The fucked up thing is, the more scared I become, the harder my clit throbs. I hope he doesn’t make the connection, but the long inhale he takes while staring at my spread pussy suggests he knows everything.
He knows how fucked up I am, and how conflicted over my shameful desires. I wasn’t like this before coming to Tallia. Of course, no one has ever captured me and forced me to become their mate before.
“I’ve been obedient.I have. I’ve followed every order and I haven’t resisted you in bed, nor have I tried to run away. When we walk in the forest, I wear the leash without any argument, and I’ll wear it without arguing the next time we venture to town as well.”
“Laylah, look at me.”
Reluctantly, I meet his gaze. He drops the belt and cups my face in his huge, rough hands. “I was teasing you about waking me up. I’m not angry the sweet scent of your arousal pulled me from sleep.” He catches my fresh fallen tears with his thumbs, brushing the moisture away. But I detect the faint growl rumbling in his throat and the flare of need in his purple eyes.
I think he likes causing my tears as much as he likes wiping them away.
“Kenan, you must understand where I come from, it’s completely unacceptable for a woman to be punished by her husband, er,mate,” I quickly correct myself. “I wish you wouldn’t threaten to hit me. I’m so afraid of you, afraid of being beaten again, or of losing my voice, I have been trying my best to please you.”
“I understand perfectly where you come from, Laylah,” he says, his tone sort of sad. “But Kleaxian blood also runs through my veins, along with the customs and memories of my ancestors. I possess thousands and thousands of years’ worth of Kleaxian memories. My instincts are largely Kleaxian, and my way of living is Kleaxian. My only knowledge of humans and Earth comes from the schooling my father forced me through. You are no longer on Earth and you have a Kleaxian as a mate. You must learn to accept the customs of my people.”
Thousands and thousands of years’ worth of Kleaxian memories? Holy shit. He’ll never change, I think with a sinking heart.
“You want me to promise to submit to the next punishment I earn?” Is that the point of this conversation? To secure my pledge to surrender to whatever brutal punishment he deems appropriate?
He places a hand over my heart. “I want you to accept my authority over you, deep in your soul, Laylah. I want you to strive to obey, but if you err, and you most certainly will eventually, I want you to accept it’s not only my right to punish you, but it’s my duty.” He speaks in a gentle, encouraging tone and brushes more tears from my face.
I’m quiet for a few minutes as I gather the courage to ask my next question.
“Will you promise not to make me bleed? Will you promise not to cover me in cuts and bruises like some of the Kleaxian females we saw in town?”
His eyes darken, and when he doesn’t respond immediately, my stomach twists because I already know the answer.
“Get dressed,” he says suddenly. He releases my face and strides to the tall, wide dresser holding all his clothes.
My heart beats a frenzied rhythm and my hands won’t stop shaking, but I manage to select a fresh gown from the hanging closet area in the corner of the room and then face the man I fear, yet crave, more than anything. I hurriedly slip into the dress and approach him. He’s fully clothed now, and his face is an unreadable mask.
Without a word, he grasps my hand and leads me downstairs and outside. Even though we leave his estate and walk onto the stone path twisting through the forest, he doesn’t put the leash on me. We’re in such a hurry, he seems to have forgotten.
Eventually, he guides me into a small grassy clearing amidst the towering trees. Clouds roll in fast and block out the sun. As we near a long, flat stone, it begins to sprinkle. The sudden dreary weather adds to the ominous mood of this place. I’m certain a thousand souls have perished here.
Coldness grips me, making my teeth chatter, despite the air being as warm and humid as ever.
“This is where she’s buried.” He stops several feet from the stone.
Eyes wide, I look at the oddly shaped, smooth gray stone. Dark markings run across its length, but I can’t read his language. I swallow hard, past the immense burning in my throat.
“Whois buried here, Kenan?”
“Ellonia. My first mate.”
Chapter Fourteen
