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Chapter Twenty-Four
She’d slept in his arms last night and woken late because he’d been quiet when he rose. They’d both needed the sleep to heal. It wasn’t easy to stomach the slaughter left in the street.
His princess’s speech had been broadcast over the city’s public screens and the doctor had given his verdict. She was pregnant, though he figured his sense of smell might be more accurate than some of the doctor’s tests.
After a few more questions out of earshot of Calliope, Drake let the doctor out and returned to the living room. She’d obeyed his prearranged order and was kneeling on a cushion, naked.
“Don’t turn your head. Don’t talk.”
He walked around her to a large covered object in the corner. It reached to head height. His mauleon men had needed to shift aside other furniture to fit this in. He smiled as he stripped away the white cloth. A cage, big enough for her to sleep inside, soft bedding. The room was warm so she wouldn’t need much.
She was the mother to his children. The first of his he could touch and who would call him Father.
A few days in there would be a just yet safe punishment. Deprived of contact with him. Made to arouse herself but not allowed to orgasm.
Yes.
He wouldn’t make her anxious, this was symbolic. If anything, not punishing her would worry her more.
He walked over and stopped behind his female. The thrill from this, seeing her obedient, waiting, with his silver collar on her neck and naked—he shook his head at how this had begun. To think he’d imagined chaining her as a revenge for the deficiencies of a few humans. He’d learned—the cooperation between mauleon and human grew more thorough with each day. Vass had been the only obstacle.
He fetched his cane from where it leaned against a sofa, tapped it on his leg, still rocked by this change. A father. Him.
It carried immense responsibilities, bound them together, and made him feel good.
“I asked the doctor the safe limits for your punishment. He’s discreet, if you’re wondering. I have a cane in my hand,” he added matter-of-factly.
The swish it made was most satisfying.
“This will hurt but I’m sure it won’t be too much for you.” He had a good idea of her tolerances by now.
A few lines of bruises.
A few strikes. Ten? No. Too many. Drake went up on his toes and down again, thinking. He was done with needing physical punishment for what had happened. He’d seen how distraught she’d been over her actions.
This was for her, because she needed it.
“Up on hands and knees. Part your thighs a little more.” He drew his hand back, raised the cane to the side. “Stay relaxed.” The first swipe was across both cheeks and she let out a shrill noise. Another brought a more muted yelp, and he couldn’t help stepping closer and stirring between her legs with the cane tip, dragging it gently down her slit.
The white faded and two red lines darkened on her ass, marking where he’d struck. No bruising as of yet.
He went to one knee and parted her lower lips with his fingers, left his forefinger resting there, almost penetrating. From the shining line of wetness and the lowering of her head, her small noises, two strikes of the cane were trivial.
“I’m noting down that you like the cane. Of course, I can hit much harder. Talk to me. Did you like it?”
“Mmm. A little?” Her ass waggled.
“My problem is this.” He kissed the mound of her butt below the cane lines. “I’m conflicted. You’re going to be the mother to my children.”
