Never Submit! The Swarii Brides, Book One (7 page)

BOOK: Never Submit! The Swarii Brides, Book One
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“Shut the fuck up, Thorton!” Graham snapped, suddenly pushing himself away from the wall and launching himself at the smaller Swarii, who wasn’t quite through insulting her.

The two Swarii who, it appeared, did not speak English, held Graham back, although it looked like he greatly wanted to rip off one of Thorton’s arms and beat him to death with it. Thorton stood back, looking quite stunned, and then he hummed in his throat. “Huh.”

She backed away. This was a little much for her to handle. Two seconds ago, Graham was being nearly charming. Now, he was like a wild animal. She walked to the door and pounded on it with her fist until the guard finally answered by pulling the door apart manually from the wall. He looked quite cantankerous, as if she woke him from a nap. “What?” he looked at the pile of wires on the floor before he looked up and saw Graham still on a quest to destroy one of his friends. “What’s wrong with
him
?”

“I don’t know. I’ll come back when he’s cooled off,” she replied. “I’ll serve Lord Jazeel his lunch, and then I’ll come and finish.”

“You’d better,” the guard replied, glaring at her, then mumbled something that sounded like a rant on how humans were so entirely incompetent that they probably assumed a door would fix itself.

She scurried as fast as she could up to the main floor of the palace, where it looked like Peyton was about to serve lunch to Jazeel for her. She stopped him in the hallway by getting in his path.

“You done already?” he asked her.  Then, he looked at the strange glow on her, which made her look feverish. “Hey—you okay, kiddo?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“No,” she replied simply, rubbing her sleeve against her forehead. “Can I serve lunch to Jazeel?”

“You look like hell,” he said, shaking his head, rejecting her request.

“I’m gonna continue looking like it if I don’t get the plug out,” she replied tersely, reaching up to grab the tray away from him.

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes at her as if he had decided she was the biggest wuss in the world. “I’ll go in with you,” he offered, carefully handing her the tray and following her to the chamber in question, where he opened the door for her.

She quickly served Jazeel, who was in the middle of an intergalactic highly-technological phone call, and then got to her knees and rubbed her face on his boot.

Finally, distracted by her patheticness, he sighed and shal’taed to the Frian in the hologram in front of him. ‘
I’ll give you a call back, Colonel. My pet needs attention, it seems.
’ He hit a button within a small panel strapped to his forearm. “Yes, my pet?” he asked her, sounding somewhat annoyed. “How’s your bottom feeling?” he added coyly.

“I fell, Master. And I’m dying,” she whined miserably, letting out a fake sob.

He sighed again. “I have never known a pet that took a punishment less well. And what you’re wearing, by the way, is horrid.”

“I’ve been working as you ordered, my lord,” she replied. “It’s how I fell... Now I’m dying,” she repeated, raising her face to him.

“You’re not dying, you’re—” he suddenly noticed the misting on her forehead. “Are you…” He put his long-fingered hand to her raised head. “Are you
ill
, my poor pet? You have a high fever…”

“I’m
dying
,” she repeated again miserably, resting her head dramatically in his lap.

“Peyton! Why haven’t you cared for this poor little beast?” he accused, looking up at his prime crossly.

Peyton shifted his weight nervously, knowing he’d have to hedge his words perfectly to keep himself from being whipped. “Master, I could never disobey you… Besides, other girls have survived this punishment fine enough.”

“The other girls aren’t as fragile as my little
rose
,” he retorted crisply. “Fine then, I forgive you,” he decreed to Peyton. “See she is given what is required, and discontinue her punishment
immediately
.” He raised up Ellie’s sad, pouting face. “My poor, sweet little pet. Enjoy this now—my wife will have a stricter hand, you know.”

Ellie knew. She didn’t smile at all—she continued looking pathetic until she was properly dismissed, at which time she let Peyton guide her gently from the room. He closed the heavy chamber door behind them, and then took her firmly by her forearm and practically dragged her to her room.

“You are
ridiculous
,” Peyton told her, slapping her on the ass as he grabbed a chair from her vanity and moved it to the center of the room. “Take off your pants.”

She began to unfasten her utility belt until she looked up at Peyton’s expression. “You’re not going to spank me, are you?” she felt she had to ask. “Because I didn’t know Jazeel was going to get angry with
you
.”

“Well, he ain’t gonna get angry with
himself
,” Peyton sighed, then visibly calmed. “No, I’m not gonna spank you.” He added with a grin, “
Much
. But one of these days you’re gonna get me whipped, and you’d better
believe
I will share some of that pain with you.” He patted his knee to signal for her to bend over it.

She pulled her pants and panties quickly to her knees and bent uncomfortably over his lap. She was never going to get used to this position, even though she should have been by now. “You know, this isn’t even a big one,” he told her. “There are bigger. Mary gets something like this up her bottom with no complaints, and it’s twice this size—at least. And she
likes
it.”

“Since when has Mary ever been plugged?” she snapped.

“Never.”

Suddenly, she realized what he was saying. Her lip curled over her teeth. “Gross, Peyton. I don’t need to know any of the details concerning your… thing.”

“It’s like a baby’s arm holding an apple,” he added teasingly, enjoying her disgust as he adjusted her comfortably on his lap.

“Oh,
gag
!” she whined, and then twitched when she felt Peyton’s fingers under the rim of the plug.

“A little sensitive today?” he asked, watching as her other orifice writhed slightly at his touch, glistening in the light of the room. “Wait a second… Are you
aroused
?”

“Only to the idea of death,” she whimpered. “Can you not torture me?”

“Torture’s kind of the program,” Peyton explained simply, playing with the plug by moving it slightly—tugging it back and forth. “I’m actually taking this out the easy way, rather than just ripping it out of you.”

Suddenly, paying far too close of attention to his movements, Ellie moaned—not groaned, but
moaned
. Immediately, she put her hands over her mouth.

“Whoa…” Peyton noticed, surprised. “What’s got you in the mood?” Suddenly he demanded, “You’ve been away from the supply room, right?”

“Dear lord, of course!” she replied. “I’ve been in the prison the whole time with those Swarii. Then something weird happened. I think I was electrocuted.”

“I think you liked it,” was his reply.

“Weird, Peyton,” she nagged, kicking her feet uncomfortably. “But no—it wasn’t like that. Graham and I just—I don’t know—but then he became—well, acted—really odd, and…”

“I love a good story poorly described,” Peyton said curtly. “It’s like when you were describing
that movie
with
that guy
who was in love with
that girl
from
that other movie
and there was
this evil guy
after them that’d once played
that doctor
on
that one TV show.

“I’m not
a poet
, Peyton,” she retorted tersely.

“Who’s Graham, then?” he asked, continuing to play with the plug.

She nearly didn’t want to describe him—the thought of Graham made her hot all over again. “The Swarii commander, and
oh
!”

Peyton quickly stopped doing what he was doing. “Are you about to
cum
?” he asked, watching her writhing with open eyes. He felt himself actually getting aroused by this, and didn’t like it. “Mary would not like this
at all
…”

“Stop being so damn nice, Peyton!” she snapped. “Take this goddamn thing out of me, or I swear to God
I
will be the one ripping your nuts off!”

She didn’t know what she was asking for, but she swore she could see stars when Peyton quickly did what he was told and yanked the plug out of her body. “
Sweet baby Jesus!
” she hissed.

“Hey, no blasphemy,” he reminded frankly as she writhed and dug her toes into the ground, trying to deal with the startling amount of soreness. “Ass sex is not a good option for you, you wuss,” he added. “Now, what the hell is it with this commander?”

“Never mind,” she simpered miserably. There was no way to explain Graham without the risk that something even more embarrassing—if that was possible—could transpire. Besides, Peyton was paranoid—if she explained the passion she had felt, the animal urge to mate with him, then Peyton would gladly step in the way of her seeing him ever again.

She picked herself back up on her feet and quickly pulled up her panties and pants swiftly. “Their conversation was interesting, is all.” she lied. “They speak English.”

Peyton seemed confused by this. “Really?” Suddenly his eyes darkened. “They’re not talking to you, right?”

“As much as you talk to a human electrician, I suppose,” she said ruefully.

“Are you
attracted
to one of them?” Damn, Peyton was good at guessing.

“Well, the commander’s pretty…” She caught herself mid-sentence and decided to throw him off the scent of where her mind was going. “Does it matter? The guards are paying super-close attention, anyway. So don’t worry yourself into an ulcer,” she lied easily, grabbing for her utility belt.

When she looked back towards him, his expression was extremely dark. “If I hear any more of you
talking
to those guys, little girl…” he threatened, then shook his head. “I’m gonna tan your hide for you, so help me. Ignore them, you hear?”

“Oh, I hear,” she told him. She just didn’t
agree
.

 

* * *

 

She was annoyed by the fact that she was still walking a bit bow-legged, despite her best efforts. Still, compared to how she felt earlier, she was practically ready to do cartwheels into the prison. The guards seemed to be annoyed by the fact that she was far more cheerful than she was earlier. They called her a few names and shoved her back into the cell without much ado.

When she was in the cell again, she looked awkwardly at the Swarii, who looked very on-alert because of her presence. She waved at them timidly and then crouched down to the electrical panel.

Suddenly, before she noticed that anyone had approached, her rubber gloves were hanging in front of her nose. “Hello,” Graham said to her. His voice was velvety, breathy. He sounded tired—more specifically, he sounded like the sort of tired she imagined a boxer would feel after going up against
Ali
. “Can you wear these, please, this time? You left them.”

She smiled awkwardly at him and thanked him. She put the gloves back on her hands, and let him just stare at her in silence for awhile. She couldn’t help but feel that he viewed her as ‘bad news’ he was going to have to ‘fix’. If she glanced up for a moment, she could see the gears rolling behind his eyes.

“Sorry about before,” he continued. “I sort of lost control for a moment. I’m just glad it was more on Thorton than on you, but I could see how you might think less of me.”

“Or
more
of you,” she corrected. “But not in a good way. Are you saying that you could have lost control on
me
?” She found that quite unnerving. When she’d left, it looked like he was a stone’s throw away from ripping Thorton’s tongue out of his mouth. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“It’s not about what you did. It’s about what
we
did,” he explained gently, and reached out his hand as if he wanted to touch her, if just to rub her shoulder. But he thought better of it—he closed his fingers into a fist and withdrew his hand.

“And what did we
do
? Besides freak out over a couple of sparks?”

“A couple of
sparks
?” he guffawed. “A couple of…” His jaw locked. “There was goddamned
lightning
shooting out of there! You were this close to being crispy-crittered.” He tried to illustrate this ‘closeness’ by pinching his thumb and forefinger so closely together that a
flea
would have suffocated.

“Sure, whatever,” she doubted. The memory of the near-miss was foggy to her at this point. She remembered the aftermath much better.

He put his hands over his eyes. “
Whatever
?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, her expression vacant. “
Don’t care
.” She raised her shoulders up in a defensive shrug. “You’re exaggerating.”

He pursed his lips, wanting to threaten her—to do anything that would make her take him seriously. She needed to go over his knee, and she would eventually—obviously, she needed a little bit of hand-taming. But now was not the time.  He had to make sure she realized, first, that he was her mate; that she was
his
now, fully and completely.

“You’re very
frustrating
. That attitude won’t serve you well in the future,” he informed simply. “Now, to your question about what happened: didn’t you feel it?”

“Feel what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, knowing she didn’t want to answer in the affirmative. What would she say to that?
Oh, you mean that deep sense of arousal I felt, and am still feeling? The urge to take off your pants?
Yeah, right!

“You’re lying,” he said flatly. “I can see the effects on your face. In your eyes.”

Suddenly, his eyes widened. For a moment, she thought he was horrified by something. In the next, she was certain that she had seen the same look when she was watching a Sherlock Holmes movie, when everything suddenly became clear to the hero before he ran off somewhere, leaving an irritated Watson in his wake. “
Of course!

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