Held by Luna Voss

17

Melyta

“It’s getting dusty out here,” Barion coughs. “Let’s go back inside the ship.”

I follow him up the ramp, a funny feeling in my stomach. I’ve made up my mind about what I’m going to fess up to him, but it still makes me nervous.

“Let me go, you fucking prick! You have no right! I’m a grown woman!”

When Barion and I walk onto the bridge, we find ourselves in the middle of a spectacular scene: Korva is sitting in the captain’s chair with Jenyta over his knee in a most undignified manner, spanking her with gusto as she tries to get away from him. Her dress is flipped up to expose her bottom, protected only by the pinkest and cheekiest of panties, and I’m pretty sure the skin underneath is an even more vibrant shade of scarlet.

“Oh, hello there! “ Korva looks up as we enter, and by his expression you’d think what he was doing was the most normal thing in the world. He pats Jenyta’s butt. “We’ve still got a little way to go here. Jenyta’s not making this easy for me,” he claps his hand down a few more times, “are you, dear?”

“Fuck you,” she spits.

“That’s not how you behave,” he growls, switching instantly to a stern voice. “Another outburst like that and you’ll take the rest of this spanking on your bare behind. You think I’m kidding, say one more word.”

“Come on,” says Barion, taking my hand. “Let’s go in our cabin and give them some space.”

He lets out a chuckle the moment the door closes behind us. “That friend of yours is a real spitfire. Keeping Korva on his toes.”

“You could have warned her what the rules would be,” I tell him, try not to sound cross. “She’s new to Vostra life.”

“She grew up in Dalax City,” he says dismissively. “She understands how Vostra women are expected to behave. And how they’re corrected if they don’t.”

I allow the topic to drop, not wanting to pick a fight. I know that he’s right. Jenyta did know what she was getting into. And if anything, this gives me some ammo to tease her later. She’s certainly teased me about my own spankings often enough.

Also seriously, why the fuck did she try to jump that cliff?

“That was really fun,” says Barion happily, putting his hands on my waist and nuzzling me. “I loved watching you drive the buggy.”

“I was chopped liver after Jenyta took over,” I respond with a laugh. “Apparently they did teach her something in that pilot training program.”

“Not risk management,” he mutters darkly.

I shake my head. “That was so stupid of her. I really don’t know what she was thinking.”

He chuckles. “Trying to impress Korva?”

I wrinkle my nose. “More like trying to show him up.”

My mouth starts to get dry as the conversation topic dies down. It’s time for me to say what I need to say.

“Vostra?” I begin hesitantly, not looking at him.

“Yes, vulta?” he replies, his tone soothing, affectionate.

I gulp, gathering my courage. “I have to tell you something.”

“Of course. You can always talk to me.”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

His expression changes, though only slightly. “I can’t promise that. I promise I’ll be fair.”

That reassures me in its own way. I steal a glance at him, feeling the warmth creep into my cheeks. His lips curl upward slightly, as though to reassure me.

“I’ve been making myself come without permission,” I tell him, my voice weak, guilty.

He pauses, as though waiting for more, and then nods when it becomes clear that’s all I have to say. He bites his lip, thinking.

“Say something,” I beg. “Am I in trouble?”

“Yes, you’re in trouble,” he confirms, nodding. “But first, let’s talk. How long have you been doing this?”

“Just a few weeks,” I tell him quickly. “Not very long.”

“How many times?”

“Maybe… five? I wasn’t exactly counting.”

“Why?”

My words catch in my throat as I realize I don’t have an answer. Not one I know how to verbalize.

“It just felt… good to disobey,” I admit to him. He nods as he listens, and I’m filled with a rush of affection. It means the world to me that I can trust him enough to be vulnerable like this. “I wasn’t feeling close to you. I guess it was like… my little way of getting back.”

He lets out a short laugh, but not a derisive one. “It felt good to disobey?”

“Yeah, in the moment. It wasn’t even really about the pleasure. They were crap orgasms, anyway,” I admit, blushing.

He smiles slightly, as though pleased to hear my climaxes were lacking without his participation. “And what made you decide to tell me? You could have gotten away with not doing that.”

“I feel close to you again,” I tell him simply, shrugging. “After… after we talked last night.”

He strokes my cheek, the gesture of affection giving me enough confidence to look him in the eyes. An understanding passes between us, something so intimate it cuts all the way to my core and makes my eyes well up with tears. I feel like I’m his again. Like we’re us again.

“You were very open with me last night,” he says softly, and there’s approval in his voice. “I felt—” His voice catches. “I almost felt like I was losing you, the last few months. Last night and today, it was like having you back.”

“I am back,” I whisper, and we kiss.

It’s tender as we break apart, our faces still inches from each other, lips barely brushing.

“I love you, vulta,” Barion whispers, his voice barely there.

“I love you too, Vostra,” I whisper back, my voice strained with the threat of tears.

He wraps his arms around me and we hug for several minutes, our hearts pounding in unison, pressed together.

When Barion breaks the hug, though, there’s an edge in his voice. “You told me last night that you needed me to start being strict with you again.”

“That’s right,” I squeak, butterflies suddenly fluttering in my stomach.

“Why don’t you strip off your clothes and stand against the wall for me, vulta,” Barion whispers, his voice dripping with casual authority. “Now.”

* * *

Barion

Burning, smoldering desire floods over me, combined with relief. I feel in this moment as though I’m letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, a breath I’ve been carrying for far too long.

I need this side of Melyta. This side of myself. This aspect of our relationship where I’m the one in charge, and she’s the one who submits. The knowledge that she needs it as much as I do is a validation like no other. We were meant for each other. This was meant to be.

“I’m not going to tell you a second time,” I warn my mate, savoring the sweet scent of arousal that starts leaking from her the moment I begin using my dominant tone. “Strip.”

Her beacon flashes green before returning to a steady gold. I watch as she undresses down to her bra and panties, her cheeks red. I love this, the intimacy of it. She’s my mate. I get to watch.

Melyta pauses then, the bulk of her clothing on the floor in front of her. She glances at me, as though waiting for my instruction.

“Keep going,” I prompt. “Underwear, too.”

Her cheeks go even redder, and she takes as long as she can to reach behind herself and unclasp her bra. Finally she lets it fall to the floor, covering her breasts with her hands.

“I don’t know who you think you’re being modest for,” I smirk. “I’m going to have you over my lap soon enough, and then I’ll be looking at both of your little holes as I punish that disobedient bottom.”

“Barion,” she whimpers, the smell of her arousal growing thicker. “Can we just—”

“I’m not going to tell you again to strip,” I interrupt her, holding out my hand. “Lose the panties and stand against the wall.”

Her face bright red, Melyta steps out of her underwear and leaves it on the floor. I watch, my lip curling upward in satisfaction, as she stands against the wall, leaning her hands against it in the way she knows I expect.

“Good girl,” I praise her. “Do you know why you’re being punished right now?”

“Yes,” she says in a small voice. “It’s because I orgasmed without permission.”

“That’s right,” I confirm. “And is that okay for you to do?”

“No,” she squeaks quickly.

“But you did it anyway. You disrespected my authority.”

She doesn’t say anything, but a shiver runs through her.

“Now that we’re on the same page again,” I whisper, walking up behind her and putting my lips next to her ear, “I know that what this little vulta needs is a stern hand and a firm spanking. Isn’t that right?”

Again, Melyta says nothing.

“Answer me,” I growl, gathering a handful of her hair and pulling her head back.

“Yes, Vostra,” she squeaks.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I… yes, you know what I need.”

I allow my fangs to extend, right next to her neck. She inhales sharply. “And what is it that you need, vulta?”

I can feel the heat wafting off of her, see the redness on her cheeks.

“For you to punish me,” she whispers, goosebumps spreading across her skin. “For you to make me yours again.”

My breathing comes heavy, my cock hard inside my pants. I let go of her hair and stroke my hand down her back, following the crease of her spine all the way until my fingers slip between her legs. Her breaths grow ragged as I stroke my finger over her pussy, taking the opportunity to feel her wetness. It’s a liberty I’ve come to enjoy availing myself of.

“That feels good,” she whispers, and her clit gives a little twitch.

I remove my hand, savoring her moan of frustration. I own her now. If I want her to feel good, she will. If I want to punish her, that’s what I’ll do.

Right now, she needs to be punished.

Slowly, I walk over to our bedside table and retrieve Melyta’s plug. She stays in position, watching me out of the corner of her eye.

“Spread,” I order, taking her wrists and moving them behind her back. She follows my command and uses her hands to spread her cheeks as I push the plug into her little hole. “You’re going to be wearing this a lot over the next week,” I inform her, giving her but a pat. “You’re going to put it in for me every morning, and I’ll be checking you later in the day to make sure you’re still wearing it.”

“Yes, Vostra,” she agrees in a trembling voice, her beacon casting a golden glow on the wall in front of her. “Is that part of my punishment?”

“It is,” I hiss, pressing on the plug with my thumb until her legs buckle slightly. “To help remind you of your place. And of who you belong to.”

I can’t resist checking between her legs again, and I’m pleased to note that my finger comes away slippery. I suck it clean before sliding my fingers back into her hair.

“I own you, Melyta,” I whisper, stroking my fingers over the blotches of pigment permanently tattooed on her neck that indicate the same. “All of you. From your tight, wet little cunt, to the pleasure I let you feel when you’ve earned it.” She lets out a whimper as my fingers stroke lower, pressing on the plug again. “When you’ve earned it,” I repeat, smirking. “Right now what you’ve earned is a sore bottom and a week of wearing your plug.”

Her breathing gets faster, and I press on the plug a little harder, enjoying the intensity of her reaction. I love having her at my mercy. I love the way her body responds to me.

“Come,” I growl, grabbing her roughly by the waist and maneuvering her over to the bed. “It’s time for me to put you over my knee and remind you exactly what happens to little vultas who disobey.”