Owned by Luna Voss
10
Melyta
This bed is way more comfortable than the one I have at home. That’s the first thing I think as I wake up in Barion’s guest room.
The second thing I think is, holy shit, what the fuck has happened to my life?
One moment, Henry is getting shot and I’m bringing him to the hospital. Then I have gangsters looking for me in my own apartment. Then I’m getting rescued, chased through the city, and now somehow, impossibly, I’m back in the company of that same handsome, smirking vostrat who knotted me and marked my neck a year ago.
He’s not smirking anymore.
It’s all so much I can barely process it. The idea that I’m going to leave Tarsheb 8, never to return, is still hanging over me, a cloud over everything. It’s not that I like it here. I don’t think anyone likes it here. But it’s everything I’ve ever known.
All of that is gone now,I realize. I can’t continue the life I had before. Not with the Vostra looking for me. Whether I leave or not, things for me will never be the same. I think about my parents, my friends, about Jenyta. I hope I can see them again someday. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’m just glad Jenyta wasn’t in the apartment when this all went down.
And yet despite all this, the thing my mind keeps turning to is Barion. The mysterious gangster from my past who appeared out of nowhere to save my life.
The man who very nearly became my mate.
I suppose it’s natural to be thinking about him, considering our history. But I don’t know what to make of the way things are between us now. He seems adamant about keeping his distance from me. It’s obvious he feels very, very differently than he did a year ago. The fact that we haven’t directly addressed the experience that happened between us makes me feel even more awkward about it. It isn’t exactly a normal situation, spending time with someone whose mark you’ve medically erased from your body. Much less when there are criminals trying to kill you.
After a while of lying in bed, I decide to get up. I’m nervous to walk around Barion’s house and possibly run into him, but I can’t stay in bed any longer. I dress myself in a pair of shorts and a cute top from my backpack and exit the guest bedroom.
Barion isn’t home. I head to the kitchen, which is bigger than my entire living room, and see that he’s left a note on the counter in messy handwriting.
Melyta—
I’ll be back later. The kitchen and the living room are free for you to use. Do not leave the house.
I snort. As though he needed to tell me not to leave the house. Where the fuck am I going to go? Back to my apartment?
Shit. The apartment. I need to tell Jenyta it isn’t safe to go back there. I try to use my communicator, but the signal doesn’t go through. Barion must have some kind of signal blocker at home.
But his house has to have a communicator, right?
It does. Obviously. Every house does. It takes me only two seconds to find the one in the kitchen and plug in my roommate’s contact information.
A message comes up on the screen. All calls disabled. Great. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I wonder if I’m trapped here. If Barion’s intentions are less pure than they might seem. Did I make the world’s stupidest mistake in trusting him? Did I just want to believe him, when actually, I had no good reason to at all?
My heart starts to race. The more I think about it, the more painfully naïve it seems for me to have just trusted him without further confirmation. What the hell do I even know about him, other than that I like the way it feels when he knots me? The idea that I might have just walked myself into a trap by thinking with my pussy makes me burn with shame.
With trembling hands, I collect my backpack and begin to search for an exit. The front door is locked. So are all of the side doors. What the fuck kind of house even lets you do that? Did he have the locks specially coded so that he could trap someone inside?
The windows are locked, too. And now I’m really starting to feel like I’m trapped. I put a hand to my chest, trying to calm my breathing as I start to hyperventilate. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to just sit here waiting.
Maybe Barion’s intentions are pure. But does that even make sense? A Vostra gang member going out of his way to help me without getting anything out of it for himself? Whatever his angle is, it has to be something that benefits him at my expense.
But in any case, I’m not just going to wait to find out like a good little girl. He thinks he can keep me locked up in here? We’ll see about that. I grab a heavy chair from the dining room, drag it over to a set of big sliding doors, and heave it through the glass.
Bonk!
The chair bounces cartoonishly off the glass, nearly hitting me in the process. It doesn’t even leave a dent. Dammit. I guess I should have been prepared for that. The security system here must be top-notch.
I explore the upstairs, hoping there might be a balcony for me to climb out of, but there’s nothing, and the doors are locked. As far as I can tell, I’m pretty well stuck here.
Eventually, I end up pacing around the bottom floor and trying to open all the doors again before preparing myself some food in the kitchen and crashing down on one of the couches in the living room for a frustration-nap.
I wake up in the living room to the sound of Barion coming in through the front door. I sit up quickly, for some reason uncomfortable at the idea of him catching me sleeping. He moves around for a while in the entrance, presumably putting down his things, and then I hear him pouring himself a glass of something in the kitchen. I stay on the couch, wary.
After several minutes, he walks into the living room holding a drink. His eyes land on me, and he stops.
“Did you have a nice afternoon, Melyta?”
I eye him cautiously. “I was hoping to make a call. Can I do that?”
“Depends. Who?”
“My roommate. She’s out of town, but I want to tell her that our apartment isn’t safe for her anymore. She’s coming home in about a week.”
“That can be arranged. I’ll pay for her to stay in a hotel. Unlike you, no one is looking for her.”
I nod. That was too easy. What’s Barion’s game? “Thanks,” I say suspiciously.
He takes a step closer to me and puts his drink down on the coffee table. “Now Melyta, there’s something we need to talk about. What is the one single instruction I left for you in my note?”
My mind flashes back to the scribbled piece of paper. “Uh, you said you’d be back later, and that I could use the kitchen?”
The corners of his mouth curl upward. “What else did my note say?”
I will myself not to blush, but my face goes red anyway. “It said not to leave the house.”
“And did you leave the house?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
He chuckles. “Let me rephrase: did you try to leave the house?”
My cheeks burn, and I don’t meet his eyes. “No.”
“So why did I get about 30 notifications while I was out that someone here was trying to open all the doors?”
Fuck. There isn’t much point in denying it. I feel a pit in my stomach as I look back at him. I don’t know what I can say to get out of this.
“Melyta,” he growls, “what did I say would happen if you disobeyed me?”
I look away from him. “You didn’t say you’d lock the doors,” I grumble.
“And I didn’t need to say that. Because you were supposed to stay here.”
“I did stay here.”
“Yeah, because I locked the doors.”
I glance at his face, and instantly look away. Meeting his gaze is too intense. Every tall, muscular inch of him is dripping with authority right now.
“Stand up,” he orders me.
I stay sitting on the couch. “Why?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Why do you think? I told you what would happen. I told you very clearly. You made a choice to put yourself in this position, and now you’re going to face the consequences.”
I still don’t move. “That’s not fair.”
“And what exactly isn’t fair about it?”
I stammer wordlessly, searching for an answer. I don’t think I don’t want to get spanked will do.
“Stand up and walk over to me,” Barion orders, his voice suddenly sharp. “Now. If I have to tell you again, you’re going to be in even more trouble.”
I guess I’m just feeling contrary, because I don’t move. I gather my courage and force myself to look at his face, setting my jaw in defiance. I’m hopeful that my body language communicates you’ll regret it if you fuck with me.
“Okay,” says Barion, smirking. He strides over to me and picks me up by my waist, slinging me over his shoulder with zero effort despite my valiant efforts to fight him.
“Get off me!” I yell, although for some reason, I don’t even consider turning my beacon red. Apparently some deep, primal part of me is desperate to let this power struggle play out.
He just laughs and gives my ass a smack. “Clearly you prefer to learn lessons the hard way. That’s okay. I like teaching lessons. Okay now, Melyta, over my knee.”
I struggle against him every step of the way, but it’s no use. Easily, as though he’s positioning a doll, Barion sits down in a chair and maneuvers me over his knee. I feel ridiculously vulnerable as I’m forced to submit, my ass in the air and my face pointed down at the carpet.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls. “Over my knee, getting disciplined like a bad little girl?”
“No!” I grunt, kicking my legs. “Let me go!”
He delivers a sharp series of slaps to my butt and inner thighs. “You need to behave,” he snarls. “I will not tolerate a female in my house conducting herself like this. When I’m disciplining you, you accept your punishment with grace, and you do not fight back or try to get away.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I shoot back, still squirming with everything I have. “You can go— oww!”
More spanks across my entire ass, and it stings. I go limp, surrendering momentarily.
“That’s better,” he growls. “Now—”
But before he’s even done speaking, I make a break for it. My sudden action takes him by surprise, and I’m able to slither out of his lap and start running out of the living room and into the hallway. I don’t even know where I’m going, or what my plan is, but for now, at least, I’ve escaped.
I hear heavy footsteps thundering after me as I turn a corner, finding myself at a dead end. Shit. I try to open the door in front of me and to my relief, it opens. Now I’m in what appears to be an office, with very little place to hide.
Frantically, my eyes scan the room. There’s no closet. Even the desk won’t provide any cover. I’m about to dive behind the curtains when the door opens and Barion stomps inside, his eyes flashing.
He doesn’t bother saying anything, just stalks over to me with a look on his face that makes me shiver. I try dodging him, but he presses me against the wall and puts his hand over my mouth.
“Not a word, Melyta. You don’t get to talk. Not unless you’re going to turn that beacon red. From now on, I will accept zero defiance from you. Zero. It is utterly unacceptable the way you just ran away from me. You’re going to learn who’s fucking in charge around here.”
He scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder again, an intensity to his actions that I haven’t seen from him in a year. I kick my legs weakly, but I know that it’s over. There’s no way he’s going to let me escape again.
“I was planning to let you keep your shorts on for your first punishment,” Barion tells me as he carries me back to the living room, “but obviously you’ve lost the right to expect that kind of leniency.”
He sits down in the chair and puts me over his lap again. I start to panic as I feel his hand searching for the button on my shorts.
“You don’t have to,” I whimper, holding my waistband and trying to stop him. “I’ll be good.”
“You had that chance,” he tells me, undoing the button and pulling down my zipper, “and you used it to be a bad girl and run away from me. No more chances, Melyta. Now you learn a lesson.”
I gasp as Barion yanks my shorts down to my knees, exposing the cheeky pink underwear that’s now the only thing covering my rear end. Goosebumps spread across my lower back and a shiver runs through me. I can’t remember the last time I felt so exposed.
Or, weirdly, so turned on.
Smack!Barion’s hand claps down on my right butt cheek, and then the left. And then the right again. He alternates, building up a rhythm, until my ass is stinging. It takes all the effort I have to stay quiet.
After what feels like a minute or so, he stops. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relieved. That wasn’t so bad.
And then I feel his fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties, and he starts to pull them down.
“Hey!” I protest, squirming, trying to stop him. “You can let me keep my underwear on!”
“I can, but I won’t,” he growls, clapping me on the ass. “Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
I’m left blushing deeply at his words, transported back for a moment to that night I let him do everything to me. He’s right. There’s nothing underneath my panties he hasn’t seen.
But that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. I can feel myself getting wet between my legs, and I don’t want Barion to know that. I reach behind me, trying to protect myself, but he grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back with one of his big hands. I have no choice but to submit as he slowly pulls my panties down my thighs, exposing me to him completely.
* * *
Barion
Fuck. Melyta’s pussy is so pink and perfect. I want to lick it. I can see that she’s aroused, so much that her panties stick to her as I pull them down. Her pussy lips and clit are swollen, her inner thighs glistening, and her puckered little bottom hole winks at me from between her cheeks, tempting me with its perfection.
She shivers as I bare her entirely, leaving her shorts and underwear dangling around her knees. I continue to hold her wrists behind her back, aware of the fact she might try to escape again.
“Now. Now that we’ve got you all nice and situated,” I slap her butt, watching it jiggle, “do you have anything to say to me? Was your little adventure worth it, knowing you just made your punishment a lot worse for yourself?”
“Fuck you,” she spits, wiggling her rear end adorably. “Pull my panties back up and let me go!”
I spank her hard on the ass, and she yelps.
“Bad girl,” I scold her. “We can talk again when you’ve improved your attitude.”
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!I start to bring my hand down on her bare ass, spanking her hard and fast. She squeals, doing her best to thrash around and get out of my lap, but I wrap one of my legs over her knees, holding her firmly in place.
“When I am disciplining you, you treat me with respect,” I growl, smacking Melyta’s ass as she squirms and yelps. “You do not swear at me, you do not struggle against me, and you do not run away from me.”
She keeps squirming and so I continue, the redness growing on her skin.
“I am hosting you,” Spank! “I am protecting you,” Spank! “and I am responsible for you.” Spank! “And I can’t very well keep you safe,” Spank! “If you won’t even follow my one simple instruction!”
I finish with a particularly hard slap, content to let Melyta catch her breath now that she’s stopped struggling. She whimpers, breathing heavily.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I ask, sinking my fingers into the back of her hair and forcing her head up to look at me.
“I thought I was trapped here,” she gasps. “I didn’t know if I could trust you.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t trapped here, you were safe here. If I hadn’t locked those doors, for all I know you’d be tied to a chair in some creepy Southside basement right now. Or worse. Do you understand that?”
She doesn’t answer me, but I think I see a flash of guilt on her face. When she finally speaks, her voice is a little calmer. “You’ll really get a hotel room for Jenyta?”
“I really will. And there’s more for us to talk about. About your situation.”
That perks her up right away, and I can’t deny I find it cute. I’m also pleased by her loyalty to her friend. Loyalty is a good quality. Right now, though, we have something more immediate to settle.
“But we’ll talk about that later, Melyta. Right now, the issue we have to settle is your disobedience. And your disrespect.”
She shivers. “I guess maybe I could have trusted you a little more. You did rescue me, after all.”
“That’s right.” My voice gets slightly hoarse at this point, and it’s hard for me to keep the emotion out of it. “I may not be your mate, but when you’re with me, you are always safe. I will never allow anything to happen to you. That’s a promise.”
I let go of her hair and she lowers her head. We’re both silent for a moment, and I wish I knew what she was thinking. For a moment, I even think I hear her sniffle.
And then I break the moment by clapping my hand loudly across both cheeks of her ass.
“And part of keeping you safe,” I growl, “is making sure that you respect my authority.”
She whimpers as I return to spanking her, my hand roving, finding new pieces of skin that aren’t already rosy red. I slap one cheek, then the other, then lower, the place where her butt connects to her thighs. That last one must sting, because she yelps, and both of her little holes give a noticeable clench.
“When you’re living on your own, you can behave however you want. But when you’re with me,” I spank her, “you will,” Spank! “be,” Spank! “obedient!”
I pause again after this last round of punishment, and realize that she’s crying softly. Immediately, I feel tender and want to comfort her. But before I can do that, I need to make sure she understands. I allow her to lie there for a moment, savoring the feeling of her heart beating against my thigh.
“Do you have anything you want to say to me?” I ask gently, weaving my fingers into her hair again.
She sighs, and I realize that she’s enjoying the way I’m stroking her scalp. This makes me very happy, even though I know the sentiment is inappropriate.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you.”
My heart soars at this gesture of submission. “Good girl,” I praise her, and I start to stroke her back lightly with my fingers.
We stay there together in silence, her over my knee, and it feels strangely intimate. With a pang, I realize that this is the kind of moment that might be common for us if we were man and wife. It hurts how much I want to have that with her.
Melyta trembles slightly as my hand strokes lower, in the direction of her butt. I hesitate briefly, and then allow my fingers to pass over the reddened skin, tracing the soft, appealing curve the ass that once belonged to me. Just like all of her once did.
For a day. Or a night, more like. Eight beautiful hours.
Her beacon flashes green and then she turns it off, looking embarrassed. My heart leaps with excitement. Green means happy.
“Would you like me to go get a cream to rub on your bottom?” I offer, my voice gentle. “It will help with the stinging.”
A short pause and then she nods, her lower lip trembling.
“Okay,” I say, helping her off my lap. “Up, now.”
She stands up on wobbly legs. I take one of her hands and put my other on her waist, then guide her over to the corner of the room as her panties fall down to her ankles. I stop her as she tries to pick them back up.
“No, you can put those back on later. You’re going to stand here and wait for me, hands at your sides. Yes, just like that. Good girl. Stay.”
I leave her standing in the corner of the room and return a minute or two later with a tub of medicated cream.
“Okay, back over my lap. Good.”
I flip Melyta over my knee again, but this time, I don’t spank her. I take a dollop of cream in my hand and rub it slowly into her inflamed skin, feeling the warmth of her, the incredible softness. She sighs, and for a moment, her beacon glows blue. Calm.
I take a little longer than is necessary to rub the cream into Melyta’s skin. She’s beautiful. Fight me. Besides, can you blame me for being nice?
“That’s so soothing,” she whispers, and I’m almost not sure if she meant for me to hear it. I just grunt awkwardly in response. She wiggles her butt, and goddamn is that enticing.
My fingers stroke over the center of her ass, dangerously close to the crease between her cheeks. She lets out a sigh that sounds almost like a moan, and her butt wiggles again. I wish she would stop doing that. It makes me have… inappropriate thoughts.
“Okay,” I say, giving her a little pat, “all done.”
I help her off my lap again and she blushes, not meeting my eye as she starts searching the floor for her panties.
“When you’ve gotten yourself dressed, I want you to go to your room,” I tell her, my voice kind, but firm. “I’ll knock on your door in about an hour when I have dinner ready.”
Melyta nods, still not looking me in the eye.
