Owning His Bride (6 page)

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Authors: Sue Lyndon

BOOK: Owning His Bride
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Chapter Four

 

 

Did she dare trust him? She’d trusted Raymond once, trusted him with all her heart, and then he’d shattered her hopes and dreams when he used her so maliciously at the Interstellar Port, not caring that she would spend the rest of her life paying for his crimes.

Hunter’s hands felt heavy on her shoulders, and the longer he touched her, the more she wanted to relax her body against his. She looked at the remnants of their dinner, thinking he’d been so sweet to order her favorite food. It had been delicious, better than any lasagna she remembered having back on Earth.

The man standing above her was her husband now, for better or worse. He seemed to be making an effort to gain her trust. Though he’d been stern with her a few times, he hadn’t treated her cruelly yet.

Hearing of his experiences on Earth broke her heart, and she wondered if perhaps her home planet was even more corrupt than she’d thought. Perhaps not any better than the regions of space governed by the Interstellar Port Authority. At least Merro rested in the outermost region of occupied space. The American media had dubbed it the ‘western frontier of space.’

“Would you like anything else, Becca?” He rubbed her shoulders, and for a moment she pretended she had just finished having a romantic dinner and now her lover was trying to seduce her with a massage. Not that she’d ever had any such romantic encounters. Not even with Raymond, the man she used to think the world of.

“No, but thank you. I’m stuffed. I-I really mean the ‘thank you’ part. Truly, thank you, Hunter. I haven’t had a meal this good in years.” She peered up at him and became lost in his dark brown eyes, and not for the first time in his presence she felt all tingly inside. If she wasn’t careful, she might lose her heart to him, and she had promised herself long ago to never let another man into her life. It was too risky, and she didn’t want to endure another broken heart. It was another reason she’d never tried to catch the notice of any of the Kemmius guards.

“It was my pleasure, Becca. The temporary house that will be placed on the island will have a food synthesizer in it as well. We can move it into our new house too, but eventually, once the farm is productive, I will prefer to live off the land. It takes a lot of energy for food synthesizers to function, and real food is much more nutritious.”

“This was the first time I’ve ever eaten from a food synthesizer. I understand your desire to live off the land though. My grandparents were farmers, and before they passed away I used to spend summers with them in Pennsylvania. Those summers are some of my fondest memories, running through the cornfields, planting tomatoes and squash and all sorts of things.” She smiled and could almost smell the butter melting on fresh corn on the cob. “I used to help them take their produce to a farmer’s market in Lancaster every Saturday and Wednesday.” God, she hadn’t talked about her grandparents for years. It felt good to share her most treasured memories, even if she’d only known the man she was sharing them with for a week.

“I had no idea you had farming experience.” He drew her out of her chair and regarded her with amusement. “I plan on working you even harder now.” His tone was teasing, and his eyes twinkled.

Becca’s breath became labored as she stared at him. Dinner was out of the way. They sort of knew each other now. Well, they’d talked about their past more than she’d expected they would after she legally became his. Now all that remained was…

She gulped and glanced past him at the large bed. A plain gray comforter the same color as all the walls in the transport covered it, but compared to the bug-infested cot she’d slept in for the last two years, it looked quite inviting. Except it was their wedding night, and judging by the hardness she detected swelling in Hunter’s pants as he pressed lightly against her, he planned to consummate their marriage.

“Becca, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she met his eyes. Was it just her imagination, or did his cock harden further the moment her gaze collided with his? She took a deep breath, hoping to survive what would come next, and hoping he was somewhat gentle. The speculum had stretched her unbearably and left her sore. Heat seared her face just from thinking about that humiliating ordeal with the doctor. Hunter had already seen all of her, even the insides of her pussy. She’d made a mess on the exam table and the doctor had had to clean her privates while Hunter looked on.

“Becca, I want you to go into the bathroom and take a relaxing bath. Take some time to collect your thoughts, and when you’re finished, you will join me in the bed.”

The prospect of indulging in a real bath with warm water was too good to resist, and she couldn’t make it to the bathroom fast enough. Just before she walked inside, Hunter issued one final command that incited flutters in her stomach.

“You have one hour. Do not put your clothes back on. You will come out to me naked, Becca.”

One hour in a warm bath! She rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. She stripped off her clothing, throwing it into a careless pile on the floor. Eyeing the large tub, she thought it looked more inviting than the bed. She turned the water on, adjusting it to the perfect temperature, and poured in a generous amount of soap. Bubbles formed in the rising water, and she sank into the tub as the water was still running.

Oh, this was heaven. She closed her eyes and smiled, pushing all her worries about Hunter and their wedding night away. She had a whole hour to herself, a whole hour to pretend she was somewhere else or someone else. Maybe she was a successful business woman taking a vacation at the renowned spas on Mars’ Floating City. She let her mind wander. The warm water gradually eased the aching in her limbs, and the floral scent of the soap relaxed her into a meditative state.

After a while of sitting in the water, she reached for the shampoo and washed her hair. She thrilled at finding a bottle of conditioner too and applied it liberally to her long, tangled locks. Most of the prisoners in Kemmius cut their hair short rather than deal with the matted knots, but she’d been reluctant to have her long tresses chopped off. Maybe it was vain of her, but she’d always been proud of her flowing dark hair, hair that looked just like her mother’s.

There wasn’t a clock in the bathroom, and she didn’t want to be late, so she drained the water and rinsed off under the showerhead. The strong water spray rushed over her, and she reveled in the feel of each individual stream of heat pulsing against her skin. She turned the shower off and reached for a towel, wrapping it around her. She grabbed another towel and wound it around her hair.

She finished drying off, wiped the steam off the mirror, and stared at her reflection. She frowned at the tattoos on her wrists, wishing a simple bath could wash them away. She shuddered, recalling the burning sting as the markings had been applied her first day on Kemmius. All those with a life sentence got the markings. Over half the women in the prison had them.

God, what a memory. She’d been so scared that day, so sure she wouldn’t last a week in the horrible prison. During her trial at the Interstellar Port, she’d heard horror story after horror story about the infamous women’s prison on the cold planet. At least the tales of child-size rats biting off your toes in your sleep hadn’t proven true, but many of the other atrocities had. Like the stories about the warden and other guards who delighted in beating inmates for no real reason. And the frigid two-minute showers, the tasteless gruel for meals, and the hard bug-infested beds and thin blankets.

She removed the towel from her head and pulled open drawers until she located a comb. She quickly untangled her hair, knowing time was running short. She didn’t want to be late and incur Hunter’s wrath. Remembering his instructions to be naked, she dropped her towel. But the sight of her bare pussy in the mirror gave her pause. She reached between her legs, touching herself there for the first time since the doctor had permanently removed her hair. Maybe it was her imagination, but her clit felt more sensitive now, and she shuddered as she stroked her smooth flesh.

Trepidation filled her as she stared at the door. How could she possibly walk out of here naked? She might be Hunter’s wife, but this was their first night together. In many ways she felt like she’d known him her whole life, but in other ways he still felt like a complete stranger to her, a stranger not to be trusted.

She glanced at her wet towel crumpled on the floor, and then regarded her dirty prison clothes. She hated the thought of donning that ugly prison uniform again. In fact, if she had a trashcan and a lighter, she would gladly set fire to the garments. If only it were so easy to rid herself of the last few years of her memories.

After another glance in the mirror at her naked form, she reached for her towel and enclosed it tight around her body. Then she grabbed for the other towel, the one she’d had wrapped around her head, and twisted it around her waist. Covered with two towels, she felt much better about facing Hunter. He’d told her not to put her prison uniform back on, so she wasn’t totally disobeying him. At least she hoped not. Try as she might, she couldn’t summon the courage to face him in the buff. Not after all she’d been through in the last week.

“Okay, Becca, you can do this. It’s just sex. You’ve had sex before,” she whispered to herself, then strode out of the bathroom.

Hunter was walking toward her and stopped. She suspected he’d been about to come fetch her. Nerves rolled through her insides. Had she gone past her allotted hour? She gulped and stood before him, wishing he weren’t so tall and broad-shouldered. His gaze was trained on her, and he didn’t appear pleased at all.

“So-sorry if I took longer than an hour,” she muttered, ducking her head.

“A minute over, but that’s nothing to worry about. Your direct disobedience, however, is something to worry about. I instructed you to come to bed naked, yet you are wearing not just one towel, but two of them.”

Her heart hammered in her chest. She struggled to respond. “I… I…”

“You will be punished for this disobedience, Becca.”

 

* * *

 

Hunter stared at his naughty young wife, frowning as she clutched the towels to her body and stepped away from him. If she ran and tried to hide in the bathroom again, he would take a belt to her bottom. This was the beginning of their marriage, and he had to ensure she respected his decisions and abided by his orders, even those concerning her dress. The next time he told her to come to bed naked, he had no doubt she would obey.

She lifted her chin and glared at him, her expression bordering far too close to defiant for his liking. “I will not remove my towels and you can’t make me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Those are awfully brave words for a woman who belongs to me, a woman I am required to keep in line, and a woman I am free to punish as I see fit. Are you trying to anger me, Becca?”

Her chin pointed higher. “You can go to hell.” She took another step back, edging one foot behind the door.

“If you try to hide in the bathroom, little one, I will apply my belt to your naughty bottom. Is that what you want, Becca? Do you want me to whip you on our wedding night?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” she said, her voice shaking as hard as her hands while they clutched at the towels. “I said you can go to hell!” She turned and tried to dash into the bathroom, but Hunter lunged forward and caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let me go, you bastard!”

She kicked and flailed, but he easily subdued her, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bed. One of her towels fell to the floor, and the other towel fell open after he tossed her atop the comforter. For a moment, she stared up at him with her lips parted and eyes wide, before apparently recovering her senses and crawling under the sheets and comforter. She clutched a pillow to her chest, as if she could ward him off with it.

“Are you quite finished throwing your tantrum, Becca?”

Her eyes flashed. “I am not throwing a tantrum. It’s perfectly reasonable of me to not want you to see me naked, and it’s perfectly reasonable of me to not want to be punished just for wearing a towel to bed.”

“Two towels,” he corrected.

“Whatever. Two towels. It doesn’t matter. You’re being a brute, and if you punish me for this I will hate you forever.”

Her theatrics surprised him, but he wasn’t about to back down. She had disobeyed a direct order, and for that she would be punished. This time though, he would give her the comfort he had so desperately ached to give her in her prison cell after he’d spanked her a week ago. Perhaps then she would change her mind about him, if he cared for her and dried her tears after he gave her the punishment she’d earned.

Hunter unbuckled his belt and drew the leather length from his uniform pants. He folded the implement in half and yanked the covers off Becca. She shrieked and tried to snatch them back, but he pulled her off the bed and arranged her protesting form bent over the edge of the mattress, her bottom high in the air to await the sting of his belt.

“Becca, if you fight me, this will go so much worse for you. Had you obeyed me and come to bed naked, I wouldn’t be punishing you at all right now. Had you come to me sweetly and accepted your punishment after you disobeyed instead of trying to escape me, I would only be giving you a spanking with my hand.”

“I hate you! Let me go!”

“Enough, Becca!” he said, not quite yelling but raising his voice enough to let her know he meant business.

She stilled instantly, and he took advantage of her sudden compliance to clasp her wrists together at the small of her back.

“You are getting a belt whipping, Becca. No amount of fighting is going to get you out of it. But if you calm yourself and accept this punishment, it will be over with sooner than if you continue to fight me. I am your husband, and it is my right to see to your discipline and determine the severity of it. I like to think of myself as a fair man, and I assure you the punishment you receive will always fit the offense.”

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