Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (25 page)

“Boss,” Var said quietly over his link. “Found some odd tracks over here.”

Joran scanned the spybot readout and rode to his left around a pile of boulders to where Var waited, sitting his mount. The big man pointed to some strange markings in the soft earth. They were roughly circular, about the size of Joran’s palm, and contained a grid of indentations. “There’s more here,” Var said. “Parallel set.”

“As if it was walking on mechanical legs,” Joran mused. “Two? Four?”

“I reckon more,” Var said. “Better balance that way, because these are small tracks. Only four of them wouldn’t carry a very big craft, would it?”

“Like an insect,” Joran realized. “I’ve seen robots like that. Jointed bodies, jointed legs.”

“But what’s it doing out here?”

“We’ll find out,” Joran said. “I want dual patrols for the next several days. If it’s armed, it could take out one slider, and we might miss it if it hit the com system.”

“We could have Ilya study the satcom feed,” Var suggested. “She’ll find it.”

“Wega,” Joran decided. “She can keep the girl with her, do two things at once. Ilya can take one of the patrols.”

Var nodded approvingly. Wega was a good fighter and lookout as well, but with her injury she’d be out for at least another day or two. He grinned to himself—he’d bet she’d be glad to get back to active duty after immi-sitting.

The sun was just disappearing behind the canyon rim to the east, long shadows falling. The sky was shaded from blue in the west to a pale pinky-orange in the east. “We’d best get back to camp,” Joran said. “It’ll be nearly dark by the time we get there.”

They turned their ponies back up the canyon, headed for camp. The air was cooling rapidly now that the sun was down. It had been a hot day, and Joran was ready for a cool bath, a cool drink, and a warm woman. He wanted willing, but he had a feeling that this evening, he was in for feisty, at least in his own tont.
 

Well, he’d find his pleasure elsewhere.

***

But when they rode back into camp, they found the catamount ponies had been let out to water, and that the boys herding them had company.
 

A blonde head was among those walking with the catas down to the water. Actually, she was riding one of them, while one of the boys led the creature, smiling up at her. Wega strolled along beside the herd, keeping wary eyes on them, and the other boy was on the far side, also grinning.

Joran and Var rode up beside the group, and Joran slowed beside Wega.

“I believe I said in camp?” he said quietly.

She rolled two eyes his way and shrugged her husky shoulders irritably. “Boring as death. Didn’t see the harm in getting a little fresh air.”

The boys had noted his arrival and were watching him, still grinning. Zaë turned her head and saw him too, and her eyes widened. She waved at him enthusiastically, as if he wasn’t a few meters away.

“Hello,” she called in a hushed voice. “I’m riding.”

“I see that.” Luckily for her, his mood had mellowed considerably in his hours of fresh air and sunshine. She was sitting comfortably, and the cata clearly didn’t mind having her astride, as the creature was pacing along, tail swinging loose, eyes at half mast.
 

“This where you’re supposed to be?” he asked.

Her smile slipped, and she frowned at him. “No, but—”

“But nothing,” he cut in. “I give an order, you obey. You don’t agree, don’t get it, you wait and ask me. You do not disobey.”

She nodded stiffly.

“You will be punished, my Zaë. That’s a promise.” Then he sat back. “Now, since we’re out, you want to go for a ride?”
 

She shot him a look loaded with irritation, which gave way to pleasure. “Yes, please.”

“So polite.” He nodded to Taro, who handed the reins to her. “Let’s go.”

They turned their mounts and rode them along the riverbank. Joran let his cata take a good long drink and then guided it up through the brush and up the flank of the bluff, Zaë at his heels.

She had a good seat, he was pleased to see, and she handled the reins with care, if a bit tentatively. But her cata was a gentle female, ready to stay in step with Joran’s mount. They loped up onto the bluff and reined in, the catas lifting their heads to drink the evening breeze as Joran looked out over the plain.
 

A pair of gyre hawks rode the evening breeze in the purpling sky, hunting for their supper. The biggest moon was rising, a ghostly silver disc that filled half the southern horizon. For a few moments, Joran let the peace of the scene soak in, simply enjoying. It was for this he lived on the prairie
 

And to get away from the constraints of civilization, of course. He sighed as he took in the IGSF encampment in the distance. It was getting positively crowded out here.

Zaë peered at the other camp as well. “Who are they?”

“Frontiera’s finest,” he told her. “Keeping us all safe, from others and ourselves.”

“You don’t like the law?” She was looking at him, not the sunset.She looked even prettier in the soft light. The colors tinted her skin a rosy hue and highlighted the gleam of her hair.

“Out here, I am the law. Don’t need any other.”

She looked back toward the IGSF camp. “If they are here, why haven’t they caught the slavers?”

“Good question,” he muttered. “Hear you saw some bad things while they had you.”

“Yes,” she said. “They are…evil. And not—not right in their minds, some of them.”

“Crazy, you mean?” He nodded grimly. “Yeah, I reckon the slave trade attracts psychopaths. Listen, those memories get bad, you tell me. Riley can give you something for it.”

She shook her head, her jaw set. Her cata shifted restlessly and she grabbed the pommel. “No. I will not voluntarily give up any more of my memories—not for any reason.”

 
He was impressed by this display of courage. “Well, reckon I get that. Now, come on. We’ll let the ponies run a bit, then head back.”

She followed him back onto the plain and Joran held his mount back so the two loped neck and neck, paws reaching to touch the earth and pull themselves forward in smooth, ground-eating strides.
 

Zaë rode beside him, her smile as wide as her eyes, her hair flying back from her face. Once she laughed with excitement. Joran grinned back at her, enjoying the sight of a pretty woman riding a mount much larger and far more deadly than she. But mostly glad she was smiling again.

 
He turned them back when they reached the northern edge of the amber lake, and they rode back at a slower pace, letting the catas cool down.
 

At camp, Joran handed the reins to one of the boys.
 

“Thank you,” Zaë enthused, beaming up at him. “That was wonderful.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he said pleasantly. “Also glad you got the chance before your ass is too sore to sit a mount.”

She stumbled in the grass, and he took her arm, guiding her to his tont. Inside, he let her go, and moved to grab an ale from the refrig unit, while she did her best to ease out the door.
 

He drained his beer, and beckoned to her. “C’mere.”

She shook her head, curls loosened by the wind falling in her face. “Um, no. No thank you. I’ll just go and—”

“Zaë. I have to come get you, gonna spank you longer and harder. You disobeyed a direct order. No one does that. It’s for your own safety, and that of all of us. You’d been captured, or lost, we’d all have to look for you and spend time getting you back. You get taken by a wild creature, not much I can do about that except bury your bones, which is all that’d be left.”

She winced. “I understand now.”

“Good. And when we’re through, you won’t forget, either.”

He watched her breathing quicken, her face flush as she eyed him, then the door. He keyed the collar. She put one hand to it, her eyes widening. “What was that?”

Joran keyed the link again, so the collar vibrated again, a little harder this time, grinning to himself as she straightened, one hand at her throat, the other touching her belly. “A reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” Her voice rose.

He grinned at her. “That right now, I not only hold the winning hand, I’m running the game.”

She huffed in disgust. “Well. We already knew that.”

“
I
know that. Want to make sure you do.” He thumbed the link again.

“Oh!” She took a step toward him, then back, her gaze skittering away, her cheeks pink. “Stop. I don’t like this. It makes me feel…odd.”

Joran watched her move her shoulders, as if trying to shrug away the sensation. He knew exactly how it felt, a vibration down through the body that made one aware of every part and how they connected. He’d never use a toy or device on a woman he hadn’t used on himself, and he’d played with this one.

“Odd,” he repeated. “Or alive?” Alive, safe and within his grasp.

She bridled. “I already know I am alive. I don’t need a—a collar to tell me that.”

“And you’ll stay alive, as long as you’re with me, by following my rules, my way.” He held out his hand. “Thus, my collar on your neck and my palm on your ass. Now come here.”

He didn’t know when he’d ever watched with more amusement and sheer anticipation as a woman walked to him. When she was close, he took her soft, warm hand in his, and led her to the divan. He sat, and patted his lap. She eyed him as if he were offering her a live serpent.
 

“But, but,” she sputtered. “What if someone comes?”

“Might,” he said. “Getting near suppertime. Nera will be bringing ours. Reckon you’d better hurry, you don’t want her to see you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, glaring at him. “You are a-a tyrant.”

“Not sure why that’s a surprise to you,” he said, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her to her knees beside him on the divan.

She stayed him with her hands on his face, her palms cupping his cheeks. “This isn’t fair.”
 

He raised his brows. “Why not? I warned you.”

Her brows shot together. “Because ... because you also embarrassed me.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or curse. “I embarrassed you?”
 

“Yes.”

“How so, brave bunny?”

She moved her fingers, tracing the line of his cheekbones and watching as she did so. It felt good, and so did the brush of her palm against his lips. He pursed them, brushing a kiss to the edge of one.

The tip of her pink tongue wet her lower lip as she watched.
 

“Zaë,” he murmured.

She blinked. “Oh. You scolded me in front of everyone. A reprimand should be delivered in private. That way I wouldn’t have been embarrassed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Baby, I don’t spend a lot of time worryin’ about shit like that. One of my people screws up, they hear about it, doesn’t matter if God and the Alliance Council are listening in.”

She pursed her damp lips and looked into his eyes. “I’m not—at least, I’m fairly certain I’m not accustomed to being treated so rudely. You should have considered that.”

He figured she was right about that, from her reaction whenever he gave her an order, but he was more interested that
she
knew it. “You gettin' some of your memories back?”

“Not really,” she said, looking grumpy. “More like impressions. But as I was saying, a gentleman would have considered my feelings.”

He bit back a grin. “You wanna believe that, your choice. Now, are you ready to take your punishment?”

She eyed him. “If you will take one from me, in turn. For embarrassing me.”

“Well,” he mused. “Since I honestly can’t think of anything you could come up with that I’m worried about ... fine. Hells, yeah. I’ll take my punishment like a man.”

She nodded once, serious as a little judge. Then Joran showed her how he expected her to lay over his thighs. She trembled in his touch, and jerked as he slid his fingers in under the waistband of her leggings. “These need to come down, bunny.”

“I won’t,” she muttered, but she didn’t struggle as he peeled her leggings and panties off her ass. Lush, heart-shaped and warm ivory satin under his hands, he admired her as he smoothed the folds of the leggings down to bare the crevice of her ass to the juncture of her thighs. His cock hardened instantly, prodding with painful intensity at the pressure of her over his lap.

“Stop looking!” she protested, hiding her face in her hands. “And—and touching.”

He chuckled at that and petted her, squeezing the lush curve and then letting his hand rest, fingers delving gently into the crevice as he spoke.
 

“Baby. Not gonna have an ass this sweet in my lap and not look. Now, fun’s over.” For her at least. ”You’re gonna remember this. Next time you forget your safety and that of the others here, you’ll remember the consequences. That’s a promise.”

Then he put his hand to her. His palm smacked her ass with a sharp crack of sound, hard enough that he felt the sting himself. Again, again and again, several times in succession, until his palm was warm, and her ass was pink.