The Commander's Mate (4 page)

“Isabella, come to me now.”

His imperious command brought a scowl to her face. Izzy regally wrapped the sheet around her body and walked up to him, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Does bonded mate mean slave?”

Grayson quirked an eyebrow. “First, you will speak to me with respect and if I offer my hand, you will take it,” he informed her coolly as he firmly grasped her hand, then ripped the sheet away from her with his other hand. “Second, you will never attempt to hide your body from me. You are mine. Mine to love. Mine to pleasure. Mine to punish. You are not a slave. You are my mate. My wife, but obey me you will.”

Izzy stood shivering before him, mortified to realize her body was responding to his autocratic nature. She wanted to please him, to kneel at his feet and obey. But those feelings alone would keep her from doing so. She’d never liked dominant men. Why was this one making her feel such things?

She lifted her head defiantly. “Respect is earned and if I am not your slave, then I expect to receive the same respect I give.”

“You have my respect, Isabella, but that doesn’t mean I will allow you to behave badly. Now, put on some clothes and we shall eat.” He saw her start to shake her head again and forestalled her denial. “You will eat, Isabella. Your body requires sustenance and not taking care of your needs is a form of rebellion I will not allow.”

He watched her little chin began to quiver and tears formed in her eyes. “I need to go to the bathroom and I really need a bath.” It was mortifying to have to tell him about her most intimate needs.

He immediately wrapped her in his arms, cocooning her in warmth, swaying to and fro as he made soothing noises. “It was remiss of me not to have already shown you our bathing facilities. Come, I will run you a bath while you use the toilet.”

She frowned into his chest; just when she was prepared to hate him; the big goon got all sweet and caring.

Izzy allowed herself to be led into an opulent bathroom. An extremely large tub looking almost like a small pool was sunk into the middle of the floor. Grayson touched a button on the wall and water began to fall from the ceiling into the center of the tub. The sound of falling water made her need to use the restroom even greater, but she stopped next to the toilet and waited for Grayson to leave.

“Isabella? What do you wait for?” he frowned at her.

“Could I have some privacy?” she asked hesitantly.

“There is no need of privacy between us, mates share all. Use the facilities and return to me so I may bathe you,” Grayson commanded, using his hand in a shooing motion toward the toilet.

Necessity outweighing her outrage, Izzy stomped to the commode and sat down on it with a sigh of relief, even as she glared her displeasure at him. She tried to focus on the floor between her feet in an effort to ignore the big man watching her pee. Hot color filled her cheeks. Izzy could feel his penetrating gaze as he watched her from where he sat on the edge of the large tub.

Izzy found the button to flush the toilet, then walked warily back to the tall alien, only to shriek in alarm when he scooped her high into his arms.

He ignored her protests and walked down into the deep bathing pool, sinking down to sit with Izzy in his lap.

She was unable to suppress a groan of pleasure at the feel of the hot water against her sore muscles. Grayson grabbed some soap and began to lather it across her body. He spent an inordinate amount of time on her breasts, running his hands around the full globes, then rubbing the slick soap over her distended nipples.

Izzy began to arch and moan as he continued to pluck and pull at her nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure all the way down to her core. She was whimpering in need by the time his knowing hands moved down to wash between her legs.

She hissed as his fingers ran through the delicate area, so sore from their earlier activities. But instead of thrusting roughly, his hands sought only to give gentle pleasure. Grayson stroked lightly over her still very sensitive clit repeatedly while his other hand went back to her breast to pluck the nipple rhythmically. When he started nibbling on her neck, Izzy bucked in his lap with a small orgasm.

The instant she came, his touch became more soothing than anything else as she came back down to earth.

Izzy was totally boneless as he finished washing her before standing them both beneath the waterfall, where he gently washed her hair. By the time bath time was over, she was so relaxed she was ready to go back to sleep.

* * *

Grayson chuckled at the way she leaned into him sleepily as he dried her with a big fluffy towel. “You can’t sleep yet, little fire, first you must eat.”

“I’m really not hungry…” she murmured with a huge yawn.

“Nevertheless, Isabella, you will eat. Your body needs fuel,” Grayson admonished softly, picking her up again and carrying her back to their bedroom. He looked in the closet and pulled out a soft flame-colored caftan; he had purchased it earlier while she slept. The color made him think of her hair and temperament so he’d bought it along with a few others.

He pulled it over her head and then adjusted the fabric, enjoying the way it clung to her breasts and skimmed her hips before floating down gracefully around her feet. It was a fabric made on his home planet. The fitted bodice gave her breasts all the support they needed, dipping between them to give a tantalizing display of cleavage.

Grayson urged her to sit and he began to brush her hair, weaving it into an intricate series of braids and securing them on top of her head. It made his heart swell with pride to finally be weaving his mate’s hair into the pattern of his family and inserting beads of his color in the intricate braids.

It had been many years since he learned the family weave at his father’s knee, practicing the skill on his mother’s long brown hair. His father had explained the importance of the tradition and the skill needed to keep the braid exact, and schooled him when it was time to choose the color of bead that would be his alone.

Grayson smiled, pleased with the way the jade green beads chosen long ago looked paired with his Isabella’s flame-colored hair.

* * *

She was shocked by how beautiful the braids were, and how pretty and feminine she looked in the orange dress he’d put her in.

“Is this some special hairstyle? I’ll never be able to master it,” Izzy told him in warning.

“You will never have to master it. I will braid your hair daily; it’s the style of the married women in my clan. Only a mate sees his woman’s hair unbound. A husband braids his wife’s hair daily in the style of his clan to show to the world both that she is claimed and who she belongs to. This style of braid is one only the men of my line use, and the jade-colored stone is unique to me.”

Izzy frowned. “My hairstyle is like an alien wedding ring?”

“In a manner of speaking, but your earth rings do not tell everyone who you belong to in the manner of the braids,” he smiled and lifted Izzy to her feet to lead her from the room.

“I don’t have on any shoes,” Izzy protested.

“You will never wear shoes indoors,” Grayson informed her as they walked. “This demonstrates a woman’s submissiveness to her mate. Shoes are only worn by married women outdoors.”

She gritted her teeth as they walked. While his tenderness this morning had been very sweet, words like ‘belong’ and ‘submissiveness’ served to remind her why she didn’t want to be mated to any Ramelian. Their society was like the dark ages.

Izzy tried to pull her hand from his as she considered her situation anew. Great sex or no, she didn’t want to be some autocratic male’s mate.

* * *

Grayson watched as his little mate’s ire seemed to grow with each step. She attempted to tug her hand from his but he wouldn’t allow it; he simply tucked it into his elbow and held it there with his other hand. This way it wasn’t obvious to everyone who passed them in the hall that she was trying to get distance from him.

“I don’t need you to hold my hand like a three-year-old!” she hissed up at him.

“Isabella, I will escort you properly to the dining hall or not at all,” Grayson said firmly.

“Fine. I’m happy to return to my cell; it wasn’t my idea to go to the dining hall in the first place. In fact I’ve told you several times now I’m not hungry.”

Grayson turned, backed her into the wall, and leaned down over her. “Let me put it this way. Unless you start behaving appropriately in a manner suited to my mate, my first order of business upon our arrival in the dining hall will be to turn you over my knee, bare your bottom, and give you the spanking you seem to be seeking. Will that be necessary, Isabella?”

A look of horror came over her very expressive face; obviously the thought of being spanked publically in such a way was almost more than she could bear.

“Answer me, young lady,” Grayson said sternly.

“No, that won’t be necessary, master,” she said sullenly, her shoulders falling in defeat.

His brow arched at the ‘master,’ but he decided to let it pass for the moment and simply took her arm again to resume their walk to the dining hall.

Grayson led her to his table, the only one raised on a platform above the others in the center of the room. Once she was seated, he told her he would return in a moment with her plate.

* * *

Izzy looked around the room and saw everyone looking at her curiously. The tables were full of mostly men, but scattered around there were a few women with intricate braids in different designs indicating their different clans.

She watched the women interact with their men; most of them seemed very happy, laughing and talking with their mates like any other normal couple. Izzy spotted one small blond woman glaring down at her plate with a mutinous expression. Her mate leaned down to speak into her ear and the woman suddenly threw her plate full of food at him in response to his words.

The plate of food hit him squarely in the center of his chest, flinging a thick substance like gravy in all directions, some dripping down his shirt and some off his square jaw. He calmly set the plate back on the table and picked up a napkin to wipe his face and his shirt. Izzy noticed the man never seemed to break eye contact with his obviously nervous wife as he did so. When he stood, the woman backed away, holding her hands up as if to ward him off. Easily catching her before she got very far, the man pulled the now yelling woman slowly back to him.

The man propped his foot on the seat of his chair and hauled the shrieking woman over his knee. Izzy was horrified when he bared the woman’s bottom for all to see and began spanking her hard and fast.

The woman’s angry shrieks very quickly turned to sobs of contrition. When her bottom was a red as a tomato and her body hung limply over his knee, the man lifted her to her feet and hugged her for a moment before sitting her back down.

Izzy sympathized as the woman sat with a visible wince. The man spoke softly to her and she nodded, as he wiped the tears from her eyes and encouraged her to blow her nose. Then the man left her for a moment and returned with another plate of food for her. The entire room had continued eating through the scene like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

* * *

Grayson watched Isabella taking in the young soldier disciplining his mate. It was good for her to see the event and understand his threat earlier had not been an empty one. He set her plate of food in front of her and then sat down with his own.

Isabella stared down at the plate of food, obviously not even seeing it. “This is a horrible place,” she whispered softly.

He frowned at her bent head. “I think you will see things differently once you are used to our ways.”

She shrugged, picking up her fork to move it uninterestedly through her food. “It doesn’t really matter how I feel or see things. I can see how things work well enough. Put on a happy face about your kidnapping and subsequent imprisonment or be beaten.”

“Of course your feelings and perceptions matter, Isabella, there is a difference between a correction lovingly given and a beating.”

“He humiliated her,” Isabella said, still not looking up at Grayson.

Grayson caught her chin with his finger and tilted her face up so she had to meet his eyes. “Was it appropriate for her to throw a plate of food at her mate?”

“You don’t know what he said to her!” she insisted.

“Do you know what he said to her?” he asked.

“No, but…”

“Again I will ask you, was it appropriate for her to throw her plate at her mate?” Grayson asked implacably.

“Well… it depends…” she hedged, clearly not really liking the way the conversation was going.

“I will put it another way. Is throwing a plate of food at anyone the act of an adult or more that of a spoiled child?” He quirked his brow at her again as he waited for her response.

Isabella sighed. “I suppose it was more the act of a child.”

“Exactly, and Rand reacted appropriately to what amounted to a childish temper tantrum. As for it being humiliating, do you not think a man finds it humiliating to have a plate of food thrown at him in public? It demonstrates how little respect his mate has for him in front of the entire ship. Had he not handled her as he did, Rand would have lost face with his comrades.”

“Fine. I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” Isabella said, pulling her chin free to stare back down at her plate.

“We can finish the discussion later. Eat your lunch, Isabella.”

* * *

If she hadn’t been so hungry, there might have been more of a battle, but Izzy had always enjoyed her food and missing meals never made her happy. So she picked up her fork and contented herself with sending the infuriating man one more defiant glare before tackling the plate in front of her.

Izzy took a small bite of something that looked a like a beef patty covered in some kind of sauce. Its texture was like meat, and as the savory flavors burst on her tongue, she suddenly felt like she was starving and dug into her plate with gusto. The food, while different from earth food, was delicious.