How could I expect him to be merciful when it went against everything he’d ever been designed for?
He could be cruel. I’d seen it, but I also knew that somewhere beneath that alien ruthlessness was a kind man. A gentle man. A man who only seemed to come out when he was alone with me.
The feeling of his arms around me was so incredibly good and the sound of his heart beating was so soothing in its consistency.
I glanced out the window. I prayed that the rest of my camp would die quick deaths. I didn’t wish any ill on them, but I’d never really connected with anyone out there. My parents had died long ago, and I had no family left to speak of. Several years ago, my best friend Sophia had been captured and taken away. I wasn’t certain where she’d ended up or if she was even alive anymore after all that time.
I glanced at Talyn. I did understand why he’d gone after them. If they hadn’t gone forward with a plan to kill him, which I’d had the unfortunate luck of getting dragged into, they probably would never have triggered his wrath.
He was the commander of a military state. His men would expect him to answer such a threat, especially since they were also attacking and killing his men in the border camps.
I moved my head so that it was perched back on his chest and his arms hugged me tighter.
I adored how secure it made me feel. I shouldn’t, but I did. With him, I felt safe. Sure, the trips over his knee had been a punishment I had no desire to earn again, but at the same time, he’d satisfied me so thoroughly after it that I didn’t hate it either.
He was a ruthless man, but a fair one too.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to a contented sleep, still full of his magnificent cock.
* * *
Over the next several days, Talyn kept me to himself in his penthouse suite. I put aside the fact that I was his prisoner, enjoying what felt like time just between us and forgetting the rest of the dangers surrounding us. I learned a lot about him. For one, he enjoyed cooking. He had access to several automated machines that would prepare a full meal for him, but he would much rather take the time and cook it himself. He made a different meal for me every night, trying to see what I liked best, but it was difficult to choose a favorite because I’d never had so many rich meals in my life. I liked most everything he made me.
At least it wasn’t charred rat or roast pigeon. In my camp, those had been something of a delicacy. I remembered a few occasions when we’d been fortunate enough to capture and feast on boar, but meals like that had been quite rare.
Now I was indulging on lamb, duck, chicken, and even a few other things he’d described, and I’d forgotten what he’d said the names were. All of them were incredible and I had looked forward to most of the new things he put in front of me.
That morning had started the way most of them did during those days.
With the collar.
I’d woken before him, which surprised me every time it happened. His species didn’t need much sleep, but he’d taken to staying in bed until I woke, which I’d stopped questioning on the third day when I realized that questioning it only made it harder to enjoy. My fingers had gone to my throat before I was fully conscious. The band was warm from sleep, smooth undermy fingertips, and I lay there in the pale morning light and catalogued how much it had stopped bothering me.
He was watching me when I turned over.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning.” I’d stopped being startled by that too.
He reached over and touched the collar briefly—his thumb tracing the underside of it, checking, confirming, the particular thing he did every morning before anything else. I held still for it. I’d learned to. It was just what he did, the way some men checked their wristwatch first thing or looked out the window at the weather. His version of orienting himself to the day.
“I want to explain how things work,” he said.
I looked at him. “You mean your rules.”
“Guidelines.” The corner of his mouth shifted. “You are free to move anywhere within these rooms. The balcony. The library. Wherever you like, without asking.” He paused. “Beyond the main door, you come to me first.”
“And if you’re occupied?”
“Then you wait, or you ask one of the household androids to find me.” He said it the way he said most things, as if the answer were obvious and the only question was whether I’d been paying attention. “You are not a prisoner here, Raiza. You are mine. Mine to protect. That means you don’t go anywhere alone. If there is something you need, you tell me.”
I turned that over in my head.
He’d said it like a fact. Like it needed no further defense or elaboration.
“What about when you’re working in here?” I asked. “Do I just?—”
“You may stay near me. Read. Do whatever you like.” He watched my face. “I’ll tell you when I need quiet, and I’ll tell you when I need you close.” A pause. “You won’t have to guess.”
