Owned by Luna Voss

25

Melyta

Barion and I both agree that it makes sense to keep living in his house together, at least for the time being. It’s a pretty sweet situation, after all, living in the nicest mansion in a neighborhood full of nice mansions, all of which are owned by the Dultaz Family. There’s a certain sense of security in knowing that you’re in a gated property at the end of a street, and all of your neighbors are your friends. Not just friends, associates. Subordinates, even. All of them know better than to interrupt Barion when he’s at home, but having people we can trust close by is a comfort, especially Korva, who lives next door.

Now that I’ve been with Barion publicly for a little while, I feel like I’m finally starting to get a handle on the internal dynamics of the Dultaz Family. There’s still a lot I don’t understand, both about the specific Family I’m marrying into, and about the Vostra as a whole. But at least it isn’t a totally foreign culture, the way it was when I was waiting tables, looking in from the outside.

Sarizor Dultaz may be the boss, but it’s clear that among many, Barion commands an almost equal amount of respect. I get the impression that some members of the Family, particularly the younger, more ambitious ones, view Sarizor as a bit of a relic, an antiquated remnant of the old guard more suited to past times than to these ones. Although I would never breathe a word of this (and no Dultaz vostrat would be stupid enough to say it out loud, either), I think there are many who would be more comfortable with Barion as boss.

One concern in my head is that Sarizor feels this, too. Over the last few months, I’ve observed him growing closer to Nullion, that tall, scarred vostrat Barion doesn’t like. Sarizor’s fixer or something. And unfortunately, I happen to know that Barion doesn’t talk to Sarizor almost at all. He swears it’s okay, that it’s normal not to have a lot of contact with his Family’s boss, but I can’t help but wonder. Has Sarizor been distancing himself on purpose? Does he still trust Barion as his underboss?

In any case, it isn’t an issue I anticipate boiling over any time soon. Things are what they are, whether Barion and Sarizor like each other or not. Unless the older vostrat is a lot more unstable than I realized, Sarizor is boss, Barion is underboss, and that’s the way things are going to stay.

And being the underboss’s vulta has its perks. Despite the fact that less than a year ago, I was a total outsider to this life, now, I’m basically the most highly ranked female in the organization. That doesn’t mean I’m attending high-level meetings with the Dultaz captains or anything, but since Sarizor doesn’t have a mate, there really isn’t another woman in the Family with greater status. Although it embarrasses me every time, I’ve gotten used to random men holding doors open for me in Vostra areas of the city, and even their wives treating me with a grudging respect. I don’t feel like an outsider anymore.

I feel like a vostrat.

It’s funny, how foreign this life used to seem to me. Even though I’ve been around it to some degree ever since I was young, my parents always worked hard to shelter me from it. I remember being a kid, maybe 12 or 13, the first time I really started noticing the groups of handsome, well-dressed young men who strutted around certain parts of Dalax City, always looking important, but somehow also carefree. I’d never seen Voorians so confident before, so obviously successful. I remember asking my dad about them, what they did for work, and being told that they didn’t work. I never understood that.

It was only later that I really came to understand how much power these men held in the city I called home. Only once I start working, once I saw the kind of money they had to spend, the kind of behavior they were able to get away with.

I never imagined I might someday become one of them.

Now I am one of them. Now I do what I want, spend what I want, go to the restaurants I want, buy the clothes and jewelry that I want. The amount of freedom I have now compared to what I used to is ridiculous.

Within certain limits, of course. Barion’s limits. I may be more or less untouchable to anyone else, but when he decides I’ve misbehaved, I’m his to discipline as he sees fit. I’ve accepted that. Usually that just means a spanking, but he’s continued ordering me to wear the plug for smaller offenses. If I refuse, he’ll march me upstairs, make me strip, and insert the plug himself. It’s embarrassing, but also a good reminder that if I keep pushing things, I’m going to wind up over his knee. Overall, it’s something that just works for us, and I wouldn’t trade it.

As I get used to this new station in life, I find that my respect for Barion grows. He deals with a lot in his role as underboss of the Family. He has a lot of responsibility, a lot of people answering to him. My father couldn’t have been more wrong about vostrata not doing any work. Barion takes what he does more seriously than anyone I know. It really makes me appreciate how much time and energy he devotes to me, the way he has dinner with me almost every night, and takes me places in the afternoons whenever he can. Even when he’s disciplining me, I see the time, care, and patience with which he does so as a sign of his love. He’s a strict mate, but a fair one, and never lets me forget that I mean the world to him.

And it’s good that he’s so patient, because as I get closer to my next heat, I find that the urge to defy him is almost maddeningly intense. Technically, my heat shouldn’t be for another five weeks. But I can tell I’m closer than that. It must be Barion’s pheromones affecting me. As much as I might, in theory, desire to be the perfect, obedient, submissive Vostra wife, that’s not always how it feels in the moment. I find myself snapping at him for stupid reasons, and earning myself a sore bottom for my trouble more often than not. He’s always understanding about it, never quick to anger, but he lets me know where the boundaries are with a firm hand. Even though Jenyta likes to give me shit for it, I love the dynamic we’re developing between us. There’s such a comfort in his strong authority. I always know where the boundaries are, and if I cross them, that’s my choice.

“I think my heat is coming soon,” I whisper to Barion as we sit down at a nice Voorian restaurant together for dinner.

“How soon?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Do I need to take you home?”

“No!” I giggle, pushing him as he pulls out his chair. “Not that soon.”

He grins, but still gives me a warning tap on the ass. “Behave.”

I stick my tongue out playfully. “Always, Vostra.”

Right behind us, our waiter stops, waiting patiently. I take my seat, not wanting to keep him waiting. I’ve been in his position.

We order, and Barion sends for an insanely expensive bottle of wine. I’m still getting used to these casual displays of wealth, but it’s obvious he thinks nothing of it. He takes my hand as it arrives, then smiles as he clinks glasses with me.

“To us,” he says simply. “To our future. To spending the rest of my life making a fool of myself over you.”

We drink and then kiss. The wine on his lips is admittedly some of the best I’ve ever had. When our food comes, it’s even better. By the time Barion is ordering dessert, I’m rethinking whether I even have room.

We end up ordering a big chocolate pudding, a decidedly human dish. Barion insists on feeding me the first bite, which I make as outrageously sexy as I can. He gives me a look and I blush, realizing I’m in public.

“You’re fucking something, you know that?” he whispers, biting his lip as he watches me. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me. You always know.”

I wink, returning the spoon to the bowl. “I also know what I’m goingto do to you when we get home.”

His eyes flash. “You said you thought you would be in heat soon. Did you mean that?”

I lower my voice, my cheeks warming slightly. “Yes. I can tell when it’s coming. I’m supposed to be five weeks out, but I feel like I’m closer than that.”

Barion leans in excitedly. “How much closer? How can you tell?”

“Well,” I look down, “it’s hard to say exactly. I would guess… Probably more like one or two weeks?”

He practically jumps out of his chair. “One or two weeks? We should be keeping you home. I don’t want to risk you going into heat in public.”

I laugh. “I mean, it’s not like I’m a ticking time bomb. Back when I was working, I used to wait tables and stuff pretty much right until it started.”

His face darkens slightly. “And how did that turn out for you?”

I look down, remembering that mortifying night I went into heat in a room full of Dultaz Family soldiers.

“I met you,” I reply finally. “So I guess it didn’t turn out so bad.”

A brief pause, and then his expression softens, melting into an affectionate smile. “I guess that’s true,” he says. “I guess you did meet me.”

“I want to show you something,” I tell him shyly. I’ve been waiting a couple days for this, practicing.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

I focus on my spoon in the pudding bowl, trying to harness the sensual, euphoric energy that I’m coming to recognize as my telekinetic power.

“What are you—” Barion begins, but I quiet him with a look.

The spoon wiggles. Just slightly. And then, for about half a second, it barely lifts out of the bowl before clinking back down.

“Did you see that?” I exclaim excitedly. “I was doing it so much better before. But I moved it!”

Barion looks even more excited than I am. “You’ve been practicing?”

I nod. “I wanted to surprise you. It’s still really hard. But I’m getting better.”

He pulls me into a kiss. “That’s… Vulta, you’re doing that and we’re not even mated yet. You’re a fucking queen.”

“I’m your fucking queen,” I retort, pleased by how obviously impressed he is. “I just don’t get why it’s so hard for me all of a sudden. Do you remember when you were…” I blush. “When we were in the kitchen, and I knocked that glass down? That was a way bigger movement than this, and I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t even do it on purpose.”

He smiles. “Well, maybe it was a bigger motion, but it was a hell of a lot less controlled. Now you’re trying to control it. That takes discipline.”

“I guess. I feel like I should be able to lift that whole pudding bowl by now.”

“Hey, you never know until you try.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “What?”

“Why don’t you try lifting it? The pudding bowl. Unless you think you can’t do it?”

He raises his eyebrows playfully. I laugh.

“I already said I didn’t think I could do it. But fine, Mr. Excited, I’ll give it a try. And if I splatter pudding all over the table, that’s your fault.”

He puts his hand on his chest. “My fault entirely.”

I focus on the pudding bowl. It’s weird. I get the impression I could probably launch it straight into the air if I wanted, but where it would end up would be anyone’s guess. Actually controlling it, though? Lifting it slowly, getting it to hover? That would be like trying to hang on to something covered in grease.

“This is hard,” I grunt, still focusing. I reach for Barion’s hand, and he interlocks his fingers with mine.

The bowl jumps, or at least one side of it does. So subtly I might not have noticed if my attention wasn’t fixed on it so closely.

Ah, there we go.Now I have something of a grasp on it. I feel like I’m holding it with my mind, and if I just push a little higher, I can…

With far more force than I had intended, the pudding bowl launches about two feet in the air and crashes down to the table with a wet squelch. Warm, sticky chocolate pudding flies everywhere, covering the table, the glasses and utensils, and our clothes. Barion stares at me, utter shock on his face.

And then both of us burst out laughing, so hard we can’t stop. I try to compose myself as people at the tables around us stare, but I can’t, and seemingly, neither can Barion. We laugh until we have tears streaming down our cheeks.

“Can I… can I help you clean that up, sir and ma’am?”

It’s our waiter, hovering nervously. I give him an apologetic look, and thank him profusely as he cleans up the worst of the pudding. I get the impression he knows exactly who Barion is, and is rather intimidated.

We leave an enormous tip as we exit the restaurant, still giggling and covered in pudding. I love this man. I can’t wait to wear his mark.

* * *

Barion

My heart feels so light as Melyta and I drive home together. My shirt is sticky with chocolate pudding, but I don’t care. I’m in love with this woman. Madly in love with her. And somehow, it seems like she’s in love with me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her as my Fated Mate, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving her everything to show my gratitude. I need her. I need her like I need air.

The fact that she thinks she’s going to be in heat soon has my thoughts in a frenzy. I’ve already marked her once, but this time, it’s going to be for real. It’s going to be forever. The very thought of it has my fangs itching, and my knot as well.

I’m going to knot her tonight.

When we get back to the house, words aren’t necessary. She falls into my arms as soon as we leave the car, sticky clothes hitting the floor before we’re even out of the garage. By the time we reach the living room, both of us are topless and she’s nibbling the Vostra tattoo on my chest as I grope her ass.

“I can’t wait for you to mark me,” she whispers, still sounding a little bit shy about it. “I can’t wait to really be yours.”

“I can’t wait, too,” I breathe, unbuttoning her pants as I lean down to kiss her neck. “I’m going to put my mark right here.” I extend my fangs slightly, the pointed tips only millimeters from her skin.

She shivers. “Are you going to knot me tonight, Vostra?”

“What do you think?” I purr, sliding her pants down to her knees.

“No?” Melyta giggles.

“Yes,” I grin, kissing her lips. “I’m going to knot you and fill you with my cum. First, though, I’m going to remind myself what that sweet little cunt of yours tastes like.”

Her cheeks flush as I help her down to the carpeted floor of the living room, not bothering to carry her to the bed. I want her right here.

“The real desert,” she giggles, making eye contact as I pull down her panties.

I just laugh, shaking my head, and kiss my way up one of her thighs. She’s not wrong.

Melyta twitches when I first run my tongue over her pink, glistening little slit. I pause, taking in her tantalizing scent, giving it long enough to make her wonder why she isn’t getting another lick. Then I do it again, and then again. She moans, leaning her head back.

I kiss my way up to her clit, and then close my mouth around it gently. She gasps, her stomach muscles rippling. I wrap my hands around her thighs and hold her in place as I start to work her clit with my lips and tongue.

Within a few minutes, she’s making the cutest little sounds as she wiggles her hips against me. I keep up the same steady pace, savoring the taste of her. From her reactions, I can tell she’s getting close.

“Please, Vostra, can I come?” she ask me suddenly, her voice breathless.

I pause for a moment, surprised, but very, very pleased with her. I didn’t tell her she needed permission to climax. She just asked on her own, effectively handing me the power over her orgasm.

Because I’m her Vostra.

And she’s my vulta.

“Good girl,” I whisper, slipping a finger inside her cunt. She gasps, her eyes closing momentarily. “You can come. As hard as you want. You deserve all the pleasure tonight.”

I curl my finger upward, hitting that special spot on her front wall as I lick and suck on her clit. Her moans grow louder and less controlled, and soon she’s thrashing around, her pussy threatening to escape from me as I hold it in place. I let out a growl of enjoyment, allowing my vibrations to rumble through her.

I don’t stop until she comes a second time, and I get that tap on my shoulder signaling me that she needs a break. We cuddle for a bit, right there on the floor, before I carry her to the couch and climb on top of her.

She shudders as I slide my cock into her. I moan, too. Everything feels so intimate tonight, so raw, so real.

It is real. We’re real. We’re going to be together. This beautiful creature squirming underneath me isn’t just a short-term fling, or a fun distraction. She’s my Fated Mate, the one I’ll never be without. The one I would die for.

The one I’ll have for the rest of my life.

“I love you, Melyta,” I whisper, moving inside her slowly. “I love you so much. I’m so lucky I have you.”

“I love you too, Barion,” she whispers back, stroking my face as she kisses me.

It isn’t long before I feel my knot begging to escape, and I don’t resist. I sigh as it expands inside Melyta’s pussy, the whole world going fuzzy as pleasure overtakes me. I feel myself coming, writhing in bliss as my cock empties pulse after pulse of my warm seed inside her.

Neither of us says anything, and I feel more comfortable than I ever have as I listen to her breath, and our hearts beating in unison. When I move inside her again, she gasps, and I rock my knot until she has another climax, this one so intense that she almost looks like she’s in pain. Her whole body trembles, her face screwing up, and her moan is silent for several seconds before her voice returns to it.

By the time we finish, she looks so worn out I’m not even sure she can walk. I carry her upstairs to our bed, loving the way she thanks me groggily, her eyes not even opening. She’s so damn cute.

Melyta falls asleep immediately, but I can’t. I’m buzzing with the thought that soon, she’s going to be my mate.

Forever, this time.