

### Bound to the Past

Lighthouses of Devmaer, prequel

### by Libby Campbell

Copyright 2019 Libby Campbell

Published by Libby Campbell Romance at Smashwords

Cover by Gavin Campbell

All rights reserved

1st ebook edition September 2019

Smashwords edition March 2020

ISBN: 978-1-9995524-1-1

### FOR AUDIENCES 18+ ONLY

This book is intended for _adults only_. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase or obtain an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase or obtain your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### Contents

Devmaer

Saying good-bye

Decision Time

Another world

Reunion

Reset

Capture and release

Worth waiting for

Friends and enemies

Turning back time

Making plans

Settling in

With him and without him

Consequences

Vows and other promises

Room of her own

Epilogue

Appendix

The Lighthouses of Devmaer series

Bound to the Admiral, book 1

Bound to the Commander, book 2

Bound to the Sheriff, book 3

All about Libby Campbell

Devmaer

_In the year 3817 CE, as Earth collapsed under the ravages of climate change, fleets of spaceships were launched in a last-ditch effort to save the human species. They traveled to far galaxies looking for another world to call home, carrying with them elements of earth cultures as well as earth-based plants and animals._

A solar flare scrambled the navigation systems and scattered the fleet. One lone ship drifted aimlessly for months. With the crew on the brink of starvation and their fuel almost exhausted, the captain landed the ship on an uncharted planet where the readings indicated an ecosystem hospitable to human life.

The humanoid residents of Devmaer, of Devmaerean and Kedrant origins, nursed the earth-born visitors back to health and welcomed them to their abundant planet. The humans quickly assimilated.
Saying good-bye

On the first anniversary of her partner's death, Freja Sándor borrowed a neighbor's bike and started cycling from the town of Foxglen where she lived to the faraway point where she and Iwon had spent their matehood.

They'd had a steady life in the ramshackle house that served as a Sentry Station for Teardrop Lighthouse and its cottage. To the outside world, Iwon was a devoted mate who showered Freja frequent gifts. After he died, Freja learned that all her shiny trinkets had been bought with money that had been borrowed and never repaid.

Ever since they'd met, Iwon would promise loudly, always in public so everyone could hear, that one day he'd bring her the sun, the two moons of Devmaer, and all the stars in the sky. She loved the words the first ten times she heard them, even if he had copied them from a popular song.

Unremarkable on the outside, their private lives told a different story.

If only. Those two words rattled around her head as she pedaled the long dusty road to the remote location.

If only Iwon hadn't insisted on going out to Teardrop Lighthouse that day. If only he'd trusted her and the sixth sense that was part of her Kedrant heritage. If only the land arch to the island had stood a few seconds longer before being destroyed by the worst cyclone ever to touch down on the continent of Senne.

If only one of those three things had been different, she wouldn't be a widow now.

If only Iwon had given her the one thing she'd wanted since the day they'd exchanged their vows. If only he'd taken her to the lighthouse cottage and tied her to the posts of the iron bed. If only he'd opened the armoire with its assortment of paddles, whips, and crops and selected just one implement to use on her. If only he'd let her taste the pain and pleasure that people travelled from all over Senne to sample.

If only he'd listened to what she wanted. If only he'd tried to satisfy her primal hunger, a hunger so deep it was never sated. Then she might have mourned him more deeply.

The first time Iwon showed her around the lighthouse cottage, Freja had shyly suggested they try the equipment. Iwon had refused. He said he loved her too much to hurt her.

Fucking idiot. He didn't love her enough.

***

At the sound of a hovercar approaching, Freja hopped off the bike and dragged it into the woods beside the road. Hiding behind some dense bushes, she watched to see which lucky mate was leaving the lighthouse after a few days of intense discipline. To her disappointment she didn't recognize the driver or passenger, so she dragged the bike back onto the road and continued on her way.

As she pedaled, she fantasized about being the woman in that hovercar, even though that woman, with her blue skin, blue hair, and amethyst eyes, was clearly Devmaerean. Freja wondered if Devmaerean women were harder to tame than Kedrant-human crosses like her. As a widow, she could only hope that one day she'd find another mate who'd have lighthouse privileges and know how to use them.

After the long climb up the ridge with its sweeping views of the rocky coast and the majestic lighthouse, she reached the Sentry Station. Smoke drifted out of the chimney of the old house, even though it was a warm spring day. There were no boats moored at the wharf. Good. With luck both Ben and Erin would be at the lighthouse and Freja wouldn't have to see either of them.

As she approached the door, a cacophony of barking broke out. Erin's voice rose above the din. "Settle down you lot!" The door flew open and Erin stood there, wiping her hands on her apron.

The smell of baking bread greeted Freja like a warm hug.

"Come in, come in." A smile wreathed Erin's face as three lean dogs streaked past her and disappeared into a rickleberry thicket on the edge of the forest that hemmed the house.

"We've been expecting you today." Erin's eyes searched Freja's face.

Freja looked away. She didn't want Erin to realize that she'd stopped mourning Iwon a long time ago. She was there to complete the final ritual that came with his dying: the release of his ashes into the ocean so that he could ride the sea forever.

Mistaking Freja's discomfort for sorrow, Erin touched her arm and asked, "Do you want me to come to the beach with you? To help you? To say a prayer?"

"Thank you. You're very kind." Freja placed her hand over Erin's. "I think I'd rather be alone," she said. She hoped that Erin wouldn't sense that she was struggling with guilt and anger, still trying to forgive Iwon for the horrible mess he'd left behind.

She looked at the dock. "Is Ben around?"

"You just missed him. He's gone to the lighthouse. It seems the most recent visitors were overly exuberant in the use of some of the equipment. He's doing minor repairs before it's ready for me to clean."

***

Like Freja, Erin was a domestic. As young girls they'd been hand chosen by Matron Cass Warren on one of her visits to the flesh markets of Silvelea. Once a year Matron selected six novices to start their training in the Girls Crib she owned in Senne. She called her annual intake a rescue mission, but her motive was profit and her methods were harsh and demanding. To prepare them for receiving a Ticket of Leave at age eighteen, the girls were given a basic reading, writing, and arithmetic education. They were also taught a wide range of homemaking skills and forced to stay in top physical condition through rigorous fitness training.

From the first day the girls arrived at Matron's austere dormitories, they were put to work at any job, anywhere in the area. Everyone knew the girls were for hire and would do almost any non-sexual work that fattened Matron's coffers. They planted crops, picked fruit, shoveled snow.

In spite of their relentless industry, the girls' lives remained spartan. They dressed in little more than rags, ate a mediocre diet, and lived in poorly lit, uninsulated buildings. Matron grew her wealth like a true miser, looking at every devcent twice before she parted with it and bickering shamelessly when she was pricing the services of her orphans.

One thing everyone agreed on was that, even though girls had limited prospects at the end of their programs, they were still better off in Senne than if they'd been sold as slaves in Silvelea. On graduation Matron's girls were full citizens who were only obligated to commit to one four-year mating period to discharge their debt to her. After that, they had a freedom they would never have known in Silvelea: they could renew their vows or stay single. At that point, they could even apply for a crown grant to further their education.

The domestics who were schooled in the Girls Crib were prized as excellent mates. Under Matron Cass Warren's iron hand, they were groomed to be maids in the living room, whores in the bedroom, and cooks in the kitchen. At age eighteen their profiles were posted on matchmaking sites across the continent.

Like all graduating domestics, Freja and Erin had been inundated with offers of mateship.

Erin found a soulmate on her first outing. Ben, an officer with the Port Guard, looked enough like her to be her brother. They were both pureblood humans, tall and lanky, with fiery red hair. They had an immediate understanding of each other that went beyond simple words. From the day they met, it was clear they were meant for each other.

Freja's choice had been more difficult. With the exotic looks of a Kedrant-human mix, she attracted more responses than most girls. After agonizing over all them, she'd narrowed her options to two candidates. Matron Cass stood over her and insisted she choose one of them. She even told her which one to choose.

In a rare moment of assertiveness, Freja had stated firmly that she would meet them both. It was only fair to them and to herself.

First, she met handsome Iwon Sándor. He was a human with warm brown eyes and a thick thatch of hair that constantly flopped across his forehead. Even before they stepped out together, he'd already overwhelmed her with deliveries of flowers, chocolates, and love-soaked poetry.

Iwon had been a Port Guard since he first entered the working world. His appointment to the Sentry Station that serviced the lighthouse was a much-coveted promotion, but an officer was required to have a mate before the isolated posting could be accepted.

On their night out, Iwon took Freja to his parents' house for dinner. It was an awkward three hours where the labored conversation was peppered with pointed questions about her childhood in what the Sándors called the charity house. They talked about their long, illustrious family history with pointed looks that said she should be grateful for the simple pleasure of sitting at their table.

Afterwards Iwon treated her to a thrillingly fast ride in his father's hovercar. He joked about how she was just what he needed to escape his parents' clutches. Freja warmed to the word needed. No one had ever needed her before.

When she returned from that date, Matron tried to persuade her to say yes to Iwon and not confuse herself by meeting anyone else. Freja refused.

As punishment for her stubbornness, Freja was forbidden hot showers for the next week. On top of that, Matron loaded Freja with double housework duties, intending to exhaust her and make her poor company when she met the other candidate.

Freja powered through her chores and ended each night with a cold shower that made her tiger-striped hair curl even tighter than usual.

***

Freja's personal favorite of all the men who had responded was Déak Ryba. He'd written her short funny letters, telling her about growing up on his family's farm, training to be a chef, and his passion for cross-country running. He had loved cooking since he was a young boy and knew one of the few places a person could find rare black abalone which was prized as a great delicacy.

On the day she had a date with him, Freja was called into Matron's office for a last-ditch attempt to stop her meeting this second suitor.

Matron sat across from Freja, her arms folded and her face set in an ugly sneer. "I don't understand why you're meeting this other person, this loser. It's like you have a choice between dirt and dessert. Believe me, that farmers' boy is dirt. This outing today is a waste of your time and his and I'm deeply hurt that you insist on ignoring my wise advice by meeting him."

Matron didn't look hurt. She looked mad enough to bite the heads off jemducks.

Freja studied her hands in her lap, faking meekness. "It's too late to cancel now," she said as if that had anything to do with her decision to go ahead. "Maybe Iwon will seem an even better mate after I meet Déak."

She didn't really think so. There was a quality in Déak's letters that intrigued her, that made her stand up to Matron in a way she never had before. There was also something about Iwon and his parents that made her feel used, like an easy commodity they had acquired to fill a gap in their lives.

Matron snorted. "Do I have to remind you that Iwon's parents are keen to see you with him? Have you forgotten that they are respectable and prominent members of our community? It would be a great privilege to be part of their family. You should be mindful of the great honor they are offering a nobody like you."

"Thank you, Matron, I am."

A rap on the front door ended the conversation and Freja suppressed a sigh of relief. A junior girl announced that Déak had arrived.

Freja leapt to her feet and slipped out the front door, closing it quickly before anyone inside could see him or pass disapproving comments. Besides, what was there to disapprove of?

Déak stood proud and tall, greeting her with a dazzling smile that put the sun to shame. He had the magnificent height and stature of a Devmaerean, but the paleness of his blue skin and his black, almond-shaped eyes hinted at human ancestry.

It was a perfect day for their planned picnic. The sun shone in a cloudless blue sky and a breeze carried the promise of summer's heat. Déak had his parents' hover-truck from the farm and drove up the coast to a forest. Once parked, he slid on his backpack.

"Come," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm going to show you something I haven't shown anyone else before."

For reasons she couldn't have explained if challenged, she trusted him implicitly. Sliding her small hand into his much larger one, she let him lead her on a hike into the dense woods. There was no marked path but Déak picked his way around boulders and down narrow gullies without hesitation.

"I hope you know how to get back to the road," she said as they stopped to catch their breath under the shade of a whitegan tree. "My sense of direction is so bad I can get lost going to the market."

He'd laughed, his dimples creasing. "Then my secret is safe, is it, My Innocent? I knew it was okay to bring you here. Not much farther now."

Eventually the land flattened and Freja heard shore birds calling.

Déak grinned. "Just around the corner is the most magic beach on earth. In twenty years of visiting it, I've never seen anyone else here, so I call it my beach."

It took all their attention to trample a trail through rickleberry bushes. The fresh green branches of spring grew in crazy directions and threatened to trip them if the misplaced a foot.

When they reached the other side of it, Freja looked up and giggled in delight. They stood on a grassy glade beside a small secluded bay. The beach glittered in a dozen colors in the bright sunlight.

"It looks like a rainbow," she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"That's the sea glass that has washed up over the centuries. You have to dig deep to reach the sand on this beach." He pulled something from his pocket. "Open your hand."

He smiled as he dropped two smooth red gem-like stones into her outstretched palm. Heart-shaped and translucent, they were smaller than her baby fingernail and about a sixteenth of an inch thick.

"Red is the most prized sea glass of all." He closed her fingers around his gift. "These are the only pieces that I've found in many years of coming here. For glass to turn red, it has to be made with gold chloride, which is expensive. Very little of this glass was created and even less remains on our shores. I've kept this for years, waiting to give it to the right person. Before we even met, I knew you were that person." He touched his forehead to hers, keeping his large hand wrapped around her much smaller one. "Beautiful things for a beautiful woman."

The intensity of his black eyes so close to hers and the warmth of his breath on her face sent a wave of desire over her. She smiled shyly, trying to keep her breathing normal, as she rubbed the smooth glass between her fingers. Beautiful?

Matron always told Freja that she was a Kedrant freak. With her different colored eyes, one emerald green, one sky blue, Freja would be lucky if any man looked at her twice. Freja wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't ugly, but she also knew a lot of people didn't like Kedrant coloring. Still – beautiful? Her heart swelled with happiness.

"There is so much sea glass here," Freja hastened to hide her self-conscious thoughts. "Why hasn't someone taken it all?"

Déak lifted her hand to his lips and brushed it with a gentle kiss. "Hardly anyone knows this beach exists. The cliffs on either side of the bay protect it from being seen from the sea. From all but one angle, there is an optical illusion that makes the cliff look continuous. A person has to be right at the entrance to know this bay is even here." He waved at the dense woods behind them. "You know how difficult the climb in from the road is. I discovered it by accident when I was a kid. This beach is so hard to get to, it may be the only place left where the ancient glass can still be found."

Ever since the people of Devmaer had stopped using the ocean as their garbage dump, some three hundred years before, supplies of sea glass had disappeared from other beaches. It was a prized commodity in jewelry making.

"Thank you for the gift and for sharing your beach with me." She opened her hand and examined the small treasures, reluctant to lift her eyes in case he saw the heat and desire she was trying to hide.

He set down his bright yellow backpack that held their lunch. Then he brought out a blanket. She took one corner and they spread it on the ground together. Wildflowers perfumed the air and oyster catchers, black seabirds with long red beaks, whistled noisily on the rocky ledges at the side of the bay.

For Freja, the rest of the world ceased to exist in that the minute. There was only the two of them and this enchanted spot, with an entire afternoon to enjoy it.

"I'd like to share everything I have with you. I thought I would, just from reading your letters. I loved every single one of them. It was like they were written by my soulmate." He kissed her nose. "Now we have met, I know my instincts were right. The way you followed me, completely trusted me, even as we hiked into this isolated spot, confirmed my feelings that you were meant for me." He tipped her face up to his and kissed her forehead and then her chin and down her throat.

She moaned at the gentle firmness of his kisses, at the way his hands moved up and down her back, sometimes embracing her waist, other times stopping to squeeze her bottom. She wanted to feel those strong hands all over her body.

By the time he covered her mouth with his, she was trembling with desire. His kisses were stronger now and he gently drew her lips between his. When his tongue slid into her mouth, caressing her teeth, her knees buckled.

Déak quickly eased her down onto the blanket to stop her from falling. Once there, she didn't resist when he continued to kiss her, slipping his hand up her blouse and under her bra. Her breasts swelled at his touch. Her nipples tightened into hard pebbles. All the while, he kept brushing her lips with his, gently, waiting for her reaction.

She slid a hand around his neck and pulled his face closer, her mouth opening slightly as she answered his tentative kisses with more passionate ones of her own.

Then he lifted her skirt, cupping his hand over her pantied mound, his breath warm on her face. His scent of oranges and spices filled her head. When his tongue darted into her mouth, she sucked it hungrily. He tasted like salted popcorn. He took her hand and placed it over the bulge that was growing in his trousers. He began pulling down her panties.

Suddenly frightened, Freja pulled away from him and jumped to her feet. "We must stop this," she stammered, face blazing with shame and something else, something far more complicated.

"Your body says you don't mean that." Raising himself on one elbow, Déak made no move to follow or overpower her. His broad mouth quirked in a half smile.

He was right. She didn't. Her Kedrant alert system, the sixth sense that sent chills down her spine when danger drew close, was silent. She had been enjoying his touch too much, but she was afraid of this new urge, this desire that was rippling unexpectedly through her body, stripping her of all self-control.

"Come," he said, his voice as dark and rich as fine chocolate. "Lie down beside me again. I will do whatever you want, and only what you want."

She licked her lips, tasting the saltiness of his tongue again. Then she lay beside him, as rigid as a post.

"Would you like me to kiss you again?" he asked.

She said nothing.

His palms brushed her nipples. "Yes, I can see you'd like that."

When he tried to kiss her again, she turned her head away, her lips pressed into a firm, hard line.

"Your body says one thing, your brain says another. Maybe you'd like a spanking?"

"A spanking?" To her horror, heat and dampness swamped her pussy as those muscles started to clench and unclench.

Déak raised her skirt and cupped her mound again. He smiled at the warmth he found there. "Oh yes, your body says spank me please. It's just that your brain needs to be set free. A spanking will allow you to let go of control, to give it to me."

"I don't think that's what I want," she whispered, even though every cell in her body was screaming yes.

"Come, My Innocent. Let me take the driver's seat for a few minutes." With that, he lifted her easily with his Devmaerean strength. She nestled in his arms reveling in the feeling of being small and vulnerable. He carried her to a fallen tree where he sat down and perched her on his lap.

With his powerful arms encircling her, she felt a deep sense of security and safety, things she'd known little of in her short life.

"All that is going to happen," Déak said, as he stroked her hair and planted a kiss trail up and down her neck, "is that you are going to give me power over you for the next few minutes. I don't want to frighten you, so if you are too scared, you can call stop and I will. Immediately. But if you can trust me, you may find that having your backside tanned releases all sort of good chemicals in that part of your body. It will free you to enjoy my touch."

She nodded her agreement, too embarrassed by her own desire to speak her consent out loud.

Déak helped her find the right position over his knees. He raised her skirt and lowered her panties. The warm spring breeze kissed her naked butt and she was glad that Déak couldn't see her wry smile of pleasure.

Before he started spanking, he rubbed her buttocks gently and she was aware, for the first time, how large and powerful his hands were. When he started spanking, gently at first, she closed her eyes to savor each slap.

"Let go, my love," he said. "You can trust me. This is a reminder that you are tethered to this place, to this time."

She murmured her assent and let the rhythmic slapping carry her to a place she'd never been before. But then the smacks got harder and she started to squirm.

"That might be enough," she protested weakly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Déak's hand stilled.

"Yes, yes." She huffed out a breath. "No. No. Not yet."

Without another word he resumed roasting her rump. As the strokes fell harder and faster, Freja winced and moaned, huffing out her breath at each blow. At one particularly sharp smack, she yelped.

Déak stopped then and rubbed her bottom in a gentle and soothing way. "The pain paths to our brain are very close to the pleasure paths," he said. "A spanking is a good way to open both."

With that, his strong hands pushed her legs apart so he could massage the inside of her thighs. Then his long, square-tipped fingers slipped between the folds of her vulva,

"What a pretty flower," he said. "Can I find the heart of it?"

Words lost all meaning as his fingers dipped into her creamy cunt. Light flashed across her brain as her pleasure receptors burst into life. With skillful hands, Déak teased her to orgasm, a blinding sensation of waterfalls and sunshine, a divine release.

"Do you always climax with so much power?" An approving smile lit his voice as he pulled her panties up and smoothed her skirt down. When she was again seated on his knee, he raised her right hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip. He nodded to indicate he was still waiting for an answer.

"Not before now," she spoke slowly, as if language was new to her. "Is that what an orgasm is supposed to feel like?"

Déak threw back his head and laughed. "Oh My Innocent! You have so much to learn. We are going to have a great life together."

The picnic lunch they shared, all prepared by Déak, was the best food Freja had ever eaten. They didn't make love that afternoon. Déak said they needed to take things slowly. Anticipation would make the final act that much sweeter.

Back at the Girls Crib, he opened the truck door for her and walked her to the front garden. Taking her hands in his, her raised one then the other to his lips for a loving kiss. Then he wrapped her in a gentle hug, craning his neck back to look at her.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, My Innocent," he said.

She felt protected in his mighty arms. "Thank you for lunch. And...everything..." There were no words for what she had enjoyed most.

He followed her to the door, kissed her on the cheek, turned and walked away.

She stood for a moment, lost in the heavens, not quite sure what had just happened to her.
Decision Time

As soon as Freja walked inside, Matron's icy voice rang out. "Freja, in my office. Now."

"Have a seat." She closed the door behind Freja.

As Freja sat on the hard, wooden chair, she was instantly reminded of Déak's attention to her bottom that afternoon. She pinched the inside of her wrist to avoid smiling.

She couldn't tell Matron that it had taken less than a second in Déak's company for her to completely forget all the stern advice she'd been given. But, as she sat in the austere office, it flooded back to her. Matron had guided her life since she was a child of five, and she listened dutifully.

Matron remained standing. A Devmaerean woman of a height that made most men jealous, she kept her face impassive. Her amethyst eyes revealed nothing. Freja knew that wouldn't last.

Matron crossed her arms over her chest and drummed her fingertips against her elbows. Sitting, side by side, on her desk were two folders: the men's profiles.

"So. What have you decided?" She pointed to Iwon's file. "Are you going to accept the well-bred officer in the Port Guard?" She smiled and nodded as though that might make Freja's decision for her.

"Iwon is nice, but..." Freja stared at the beige files.

"But?" Matron loaded that single word with ice.

"But there's something so different about Déak." Freja bowed her head. "Iwon is proper and well-mannered and—"

"And comes from a fine family. He's already on a good career path and will look after you. But this one—" Matron stabbed Déak's file with a thick forefinger. "This mixed-blood working man you've just seen?" She clicked her tongue. "That boy will run himself into an early grave and leave you destitute. Besides, even a simpleton can cook. No one needs a fancy chef."

Freja clenched her jaw so hard she thought her teeth might crack. She took a deep breath before speaking. "I know all that in my brain. I just don't feel anything special for Iwon. There's something missing between us."

"What's missing is maturity, common sense, and experience on your part. That's why you have me." As Matron sat down, her chair creaked loudly. "You're a naïve girl who expects far too much from life which is why you need my guidance." She smiled broadly. It was the same smile she'd given Freja when she'd condemned her to cold showers for a week. "Besides, vows are only binding for four years. At the end of your time with Iwon, you'll be an officer's mate with a fine house and maybe even a babe if you're ready. You'll be that much older, and you'll realize that you made the right decision."

Freja nodded but said nothing. She looked at Matron, silently hoping for understanding.

Matron clicked her tongue and stabbed Déak's file again. "This one is of low birth, a nobody. His parents are farmers. The only future that family can offer you is hard work and poverty. I told you that before you went out with him, but you wouldn't listen, would you? Oh yes, he's very handsome, this Déak boy. But looks fade!" Her tone became low and menacing. "He's nothing now and he'll be nothing in the future. A nobody. It's time to put him out of your head."

Freja folded her hands in her lap, trying to summon the courage to defend Déak but not knowing where to start. She couldn't share the most memorable parts of the date she'd had with him.

There were no words to describe the feelings that had woken that afternoon, but something in her was altered forever. Déak hadn't just taken Freja on a picnic. He'd taken her to places she hadn't known existed. She bit her lip and looked up.

Matron's eyes were bayonets and Freja's courage started to crumble.

Matron saw the moment of doubt and jumped on it. "Where will you be at the end of four years with Déak? Living in a hovel, that's where. There will barely be enough food on the table for the two of you. Children will be out of the question. Worst of all, you will have squandered this golden opportunity to join one of Senne's finest military families."

She went to the door and called into the lounge room where the newly graduated domestics were gossiping about their future mates. "Erin, come in here please."

"Yes, Matron?" Erin slid into the office and pressed her back against the wall.

"Sit," Matron said, taking her own seat across from the girls. "Tell Freja what you learned today."

Erin twisted the sleeve of her blouse. Matron made her nervous. Matron made all the girls nervous. Until the day Matron signed their Tickets of Leave, they were compelled by law to remain at the Girls Crib.

Taking a deep breath, Erin spoke, "Ben told me that Iwon has asked for your mateship. He and Iwon are lifelong friends. Their families know each other and even take holidays together. Ben and Iwon are like brothers." Erin turned sideways in her seat and took Freja's face in her hands, pleading with her eyes. "If you choose Iwon, then you get me too. You and I haven't been separated since we were rescued from the slave cages of Silvelea. I don't want to lose you now. I can't lose you now. Please choose Iwon." Unshed tears sparkled in Erin's eyes.

With that, Freja decided to shelve the disturbing, exciting feelings that Déak had woken in her. It was hard to stand up to Matron's veiled threat but impossible to say no to Erin who was the closest thing she had to a sister. She opened her arms to hug away Erin's tears, the way they had comforted each other many times in the past.

Matron treated them to a bloodless smile. "You don't have to decide right now," she said. "You can give us your answer tomorrow morning after breakfast."

***

First thing the next morning a parcel was delivered for Freja. Matron handed it to her in the crowded dining room. No one said a word as she read the address label (to her from Iwon Sándor) before undoing the fancy wrapping. She opened the flat white box with shaking hands.

Inside was a CommBand. Highly developed technology, in the form of a silver and gold bracelets, CommBands were coveted for their many functions. Only senior members of government, military, and society generally, were allowed these powerful devices.

When Freja held up her gift, a collective gasp sounded around the tables. Then a clamor of voices rose to a deafening roar. She could only pick out some of the comments.

"You're so lucky!"

"You have to choose Iwon!"

"If you don't want him, can I have him?"

Freja had never made an important decision for herself so she let the chattering chorus choose for her.

As the breakfast dishes were being cleared, Freja wrote to Déak. She said she was very sorry, but she couldn't see him again. She'd really enjoyed the afternoon with him and would cherish her sea glass forever.

As she sat at the desk in Matron's office writing and rewriting her note of farewell, the CommBand glittered in the sunlight streaming in the window.

Another world

After saying good-bye to Erin, Freja left her sandals and backpack by her bike and headed down the hill to the beach. Once there, she stood in the wet pebbly ooze and gazed out over the barren expanse. She should have planned better. It was low tide so she couldn't just wade into the water and empty Iwon's ashes. She was going to have to cross twenty feet of rocky foreshore just to get her toes wet.

She picked her way around barnacle-encrusted boulders and skirted the veil of slimy seaweed that covered parts of the beach. At the water's edge, she rolled her jeans above her knees. Ignoring the chill, she waded in, keen to finish this final good-bye. She knew she should feel loss and sorrow, but she didn't. She simply hadn't loved Iwon. Most of the time it had been hard to like him.

Even though he had acted the part of a loving mate in public, behind closed doors he revealed another side of himself. From their first night together whenever they were alone, he had treated her with derision, mimicking the contempt his parents had shown her.

At last she was closing the book on that unhappy chapter of her life. After this she would be free.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn't notice the way the beach sloped away from the land at an increasingly sharp angle. She ignored the prickle on the back of her neck, the Kedrant sense that warned her of danger.

With one step, she was ankle deep. The next step took her into the water up to her knees, soaking the bottom of her jeans.

Undeterred, she teased open the knot at the top of the bag and tipped its grainy contents into the waves. A breeze lifted a plume of ash toward her before dropping it on the water. She stepped away and turned the bag upside down, dumping the rest of its contents out all at once. To her horror, small white fragments poured out with the ash and sank to the sea floor. Bits of bone? Teeth? The notion made the hair on her arms stand up. She wrenched away from the oily ash that floated on the surface, catching her foot on a slick of kelp. She fell backwards into the water.

A strong wave pulled her away from the shore. Now completely drenched, she turned back to the beach, trying to walk faster than the surf could drag her. For a split second she forgot the basic rule of seaside safety: never turn your back on the ocean. As she struggled toward shore, a sneaker wave caught her. It swept her off her feet before dragging her underwater. She tumbled in its swell, her nostrils and throat filling with brine, as it pulled her first one way and then another. Finally, with her lungs screaming, she kicked hard and broke the surface, gasping.

Fucking Iwon. The words swirled in her head. Even in death he was making her life miserable. She spat out the last of the seawater she'd swallowed. In the few short minutes she'd been under, a powerful current had dragged her a long way out to sea. She didn't panic. Once she'd learned how to swim, it had become her favorite sport. It was one of the few activities a poor girl could do for free.

When her heart rate slowed, and the burn of saltwater had cooled in her throat, she began a forward crawl toward shore. As she swam, the prickle on her neck became more urgent. She looked around. Not only was she not getting closer to shore, she realized that she was caught in a rip tide. It was sweeping her out to sea.

Wearily she changed direction, swimming parallel to shore and headed toward the Sentry Station. The rising wind was whipping up the ocean. One moment huge waves raised her, the next they dropped her between swells. In the trough, all she could see was water. On the crest of the waves, she saw the lighthouse and pointed herself in that direction.

She was making steady progress when the strongest prickle on her neck sent adrenalin coursing through her. There, a short distance in front of her, was the cause. Her heart skipped a beat. Patrolling the water between her and the lighthouse was a karshark. Its luminescent purple dorsal fin shone above the waves like a warning beacon, announcing the presence of the biggest macropredator on the planet.

Not wasting a second, she flipped and swam as fast as she could toward the massive ridge that hemmed the beach in the far distance. Its rocky sides jutted into the water, breaking the strength of the waves as they crashed in from the open sea.

As she struggled forward with one strong stroke after another, she reminded herself that there was no blood in the water, nothing to alert the karshark to her presence. The ridge wasn't that much farther away than the distance she swam many summer mornings. She should be able to make it comfortably.

Only she didn't usually swim weighed down by her jeans. Nor did she usually swim in strong currents. Her regular beach was protected by an offshore reef and the sea there was usually calm and gentle.

Every so often she stopped to check for the karshark. It was farther away now, but that wasn't reassuring. A creature like that could cover the length of that entire beach in seconds. She continued to check the water between herself and the shore. The rip was still there, blocking her way to safety. She couldn't swim to land until she'd passed its outer reaches.

Ten more yards. I can do it. She used that mantra to make the challenge manageable. As she completed one distance of ten yards, she started the next.

The rocky ridge rose in front of her now, no more than fifteen feet away. The way the ocean pounded against the monolith made her shiver with worry. If the karshark didn't get her, she risked being smashed against the rocks. Surely the rip would break before she got too close.

Barely had these thoughts formed when she saw a train of enormous waves bearing down on her. If she stayed on the surface, she risked being carried off in any direction. Maybe back to the karshark's territory.

Taking a huge breath, she dove again. Forcing herself down deep, she'd go as far from the uncontrollable power of the surface as she could. She'd stay down as long as possible, avoiding the surface where the water traveled faster, more erratically, than closer to the ocean floor.

Almost at the bottom, she spotted a gap in the dark density of the nearby rocks. A light shone down a tunnel or from a cave. She was curious but, without enough air to explore it, she shot back to the surface.

The set of monster waves had passed so she allowed herself time to gather her strength, and to empty and refill her lungs. Her heart rate was almost normal when her early warning system went off again. A sudden movement to the right caught her eye.

A shimmering purple fin was cutting a lazy path through the water, coming right at her. She submerged fast, her eyes on fire from the saltwater. When she found the source of the light, she swam toward it, glancing behind her from time to time. The dark purple and gray shape undulated between her and the surface, trapping her underwater.

She was almost as the entrance to the tunnel when a flooding wave rushed in behind her, propelling her forward. The tunnel was so narrow in places that her slender body barely fit through it. The karshark was many times her size. No way could it follow here.

Realizing she had the perfect escape from the karshark, she swam harder, fighting her way toward the other end.

Welcoming sunlight greeted her as she broke through to the other side and surfaced. Sobs of weary relief racked her body as she looked around, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sun glittered on the rainbow-colored beach in the small bay. Sea glass.

She'd been here before, a lifetime ago but now she was back, it felt like only days. She trembled with joy. In her imagination she'd escaped to this serene place many times.

The tame waves rocked her gently. Floating on her back, she rested as the pulse pounding in her ears slowed. She gazed at the sky, allowing herself to recover and enjoy the moment. Warm water cradled her as she took in her surroundings. Just as she remembered, wildflowers perfumed the air. The oyster catchers whistled from the ledges at the sides of the bay, the same way they had on that other spring day, years before.

Exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, she savored the joy of finding this magical place again. She'd thought it was lost forever.

Ever since Déak had brought her here, she'd continued searching for this hidden treasure. But the cliffs that almost completely encircled the bay left only a narrow gap through which the ocean moved. From the open water, the beach was invisible, hidden by the tall ridges. From land, it was inaccessible to all but the most determined explorer.

It was Déak's beach, his secret.

Floating on her back, she indulged in her longing for him again. She closed her eyes remembering his touch, his taste, and the way he'd woken her heart and soul in a single afternoon.

Slipping into her most precious memory, she was lost in another world. The exact moment she fully relaxed, something fierce and powerful grabbed her ankle. Before she could catch her breath, she was dragged down toward the ocean floor.

Reunion

Panic seized Freja as she was hauled under. Water blurred her vision again and pressed the air from her lungs.

It's the karshark, her thoughts insisted, but she knew that was wrong. Even that sleek killing machine couldn't possibly have swum around the ridge so quickly and found her here in the bay. Besides it wasn't teeth clamped onto her leg, it was a hand or something worse. Maybe a tentacle from a giant octopus.

With her free leg, she tried to strike whatever had clamped onto her ankle, but the water slowed her movements, making them ineffectual. This thing was dragging her so deep that her ears were popping.

Peering through stinging eyes she made out a large blue shape below her. She kicked again weakly at the shadowy form. It raised its head and she saw it was a person wearing a snorkel and mask. When she was finally able to focus, she made out a pair of black, almond-shaped eyes looking up at her.

Déak let go of her ankle immediately and shot up beside her. His strong hands circled her and in the next heartbeat, they were on the surface.

He propped her up by the waist, easily keeping the two of them afloat. Even as he pulled off his mask and snorkel, his eyes didn't leave her. She didn't speak either. They were both absorbing the shock of seeing each other again.

For one long beat they bobbed on the surface, staring at each other silently. He was treading water in such robust, steady rhythms that she knew he was wearing dive fins. No wonder it was so easy for him to support her.

She hacked out a mouthful of brine. "Were you trying to kill me?" she asked between gasps. Her tone was hostile, a defense against the weakness that she felt at seeing him again.

On one hand, she was so happy to have found him, she wanted to cry with relief. But she didn't want to shame herself with a messy display of vulnerability.

This wasn't how she'd imagined their reunion. In all her fantasies, when and if they met again, she was going to be strong and poised. She'd greet him like an old friend and let things build from there.

The strong hands on her waist set heat building in her, in places that had been in permafrost since she last saw him. Any hope for poise was quickly disappearing.

"Of course not." He grinned and her body temperature rose even more. "How the hell would I know that the person who just popped out of the water in my bay was you? One minute the sea was as still as glass. I was over there—" he pointed to a spot closer to the beach, "—snorkeling along the reef where all my black abalone beds have been plundered since yesterday. The next minute someone surfaced noisily. Big coincidence I thought. And I never trust coincidences. So I dove to the bottom and ambushed what I thought was a thieving bastard."

He brushed one of her flattened curls from her forehead. "My mistake. I thought you were the poacher who has stolen the last of my black abalone." His fiery eyes teased her. "But you're after more than that, aren't you? You've come back to steal my heart again, haven't you?"

She'd forgotten the richness of his voice and how his intense black eyes penetrated her, right down to her innermost thoughts. Before he could say another word, she dove toward him. Wrapping her hands around his head, she pulled him to her and covered his mouth with a bruising kiss, a kiss she'd waited an eternity to claim.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed against him. To her delight, she felt his cock stir in his wetsuit. Riding the gentle chop in that position was awkward but Freja didn't care. Ever since Iwon died, she'd promised herself if she ever saw Déak again, she wouldn't let him get away.

"You scared me half to death," she said between kisses. "You wouldn't believe what has happened to me today."

She kissed along the sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline, then down his neck. His mouth traveled across her collar bone dropping kisses all the way. As they dipped underwater again, they continued kissing. Finally, Freja pushed away and surfaced.

"It doesn't look like you came out for a leisurely swim," Déak said, popping up beside her and shaking the water out of his hair. "You look worn out. How about I tow you to the beach?"

"I'm good. I can swim." She didn't want to be rescued, to be taken back to shore too quickly. That would mean a return to everyday life, to tedious reality. She'd rather float for a while longer and enjoy this ephemeral moment of bliss.

Déak grinned. "Let me put it this way: how about you hang onto me as I swim back to shore."

"You don't need to. There's no rush, is there?"

"Looking at the fatigue lines on your face and the redness of your eyes, I'd say the sooner I get you out of the water, the better. Plus, I can swim faster and stronger than you can."

He fixed her with a piercing gaze and Freja shrugged, unable to say no one more time. He told her to put her hands on his shoulders before towing her to shallow water with his vigorous breaststroke. When the water was up to his waist, he lifted her up and carried her back to the grassy glade.

On the ground was a blanket, a pile of his clothes, and a familiar yellow backpack, faded by time. So many years later and he still had the same pack. That small sign of continuity in his life, in who and what he was, comforted her.

Setting her down on her feet he said, "Don't move."

In that moment of weariness, she didn't resist. She was too tired to make her own decisions. Besides, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to obey him. Why not? She'd been fantasizing about him for the past four years. She wouldn't say no to anything he wanted now.

He opened his pack and handed her a thermos of water. "Give me your clothes then take a drink and rinse your eyes."

She slid her jeans off while he peeled off his wetsuit. She handed her wet pants to him, enjoying the site of him half naked. His buff chest was damp and glistened in the bright sunlight. His pale blue skin gleamed like a rare gem and his form fitting trunks clung to him so tightly, they could have been a second skin. There was no mistaking the size of his manhood or the fact that he was aroused. She loved the way the muscles in his arms rippled as he flattened her jeans before squeezing as much water out of them as possible. When he turned to hang them on a bush, she licked her lips at his well-shaped ass. Was he taunting her with this obvious show of his magnificent body or was it a promise of things to come?

"I'll take the rest of your clothes now."

She hesitated and he delivered a sharp smack to her bottom through her wet panties. "When I tell you to do something, My Innocent, I do it for your own good and I expect you to obey. Immediately." His tone was imperious, but his eyes glowed with tender humor. "We've wasted too much time for you to play coy now."

He hadn't forgotten her. He'd measured their separation like she had, aware of lost time. And he'd remembered how she responded to a loving whack.

Hastily she stripped off her wet t-shirt, unsure of why she'd been even slightly reluctant to do as he said. Hadn't she dreamt of this reunion for years? She needed to lay herself open to him, body and soul. When she peeled off her bra, her nipples stood erect, as hard as stones. Déak looked at them and the color of his hair darkened from blue to blue-black immediately. He walked back to the rickleberry bush and hung her t-shirt and bra next to her jeans. She followed him a few paces, determined not to let him out of her sight.

Her breath quickened at the signs of his arousal. She longed to rake her fingers through his gorgeous mane, to press her womanly curves against his sculpted body again but this time with no flimsy cloth separating them.

Shaking herself, she tried to remember that this was reality, not some fairy dust dream where everything would unfold seamlessly, as if no time had passed at all. Yes, she was well trained in the sensual arts but had never learned to enjoy them. Iwon's alternating indifference and contempt for her made her dread the notion of sex. She'd come to hate it so badly she'd even toyed with the idea of taking a vow of celibacy once their term of mateship was finished.

But here was Déak. With him came new hope for many things. Making love with him would be different, she was certain. It would be joyful, not a sweaty exercise in one-sided gratification.

Although they'd only been together for a few minutes, her body was already responding in ways she'd long forgotten, in ways that only Déak triggered.

Like magic, her fatigue lifted. Her pussy started pulsing. She wanted more of his kisses. She wanted every part of him. Right now. She had to stop the urge to touch him, to undress him, and see what that bulging cock looked like when it was released and ready for action.

Her body trembled with the urge to please him and at the same time to satisfy the longing he'd woken in her. She loved the way he was taking control. When he gave an order, it was like he was looking into her soul and seeing what she needed and wanted the most. Then he took those deepest longings, her undeclared desires, and turned them into a command.

This sense of him connecting to her unspoken wishes so completely, made her feel new, reborn. She was in a place she'd only dreamed of returning to, with the man who'd starred in her fantasies every night for years.

Everything was happening so fast. She thought if she saw him again it would have been after some correspondence. She'd imagined meeting him at a coffee shop or café where they'd have polite conversation and make a slow decision about what happened next.

Remembering that fantasy, she reined in her desire. The moment, this reunion, was so precious, it mustn't happen too quickly. There would never be another day like this one, the day that fate brought them back together.

So, like an untested virgin, she hesitated again. She remained standing in just her panties. She needed to delay things and to challenge his authority, to see if it would stand this simple test of resistance. Was his dominance and the way he touched her soul just a lucky act or was he truly in charge?

Glancing around, she decided to distract him, to test his resolve. "Are we in any danger?" she asked.

Déak frowned, narrowing his eyes as if he sensed she was playing with him. "Danger?"

"You thought I was a poacher? Aren't poachers dangerous? How many are there?"

"Poachers are only dangerous to these vulnerable shellfish. I'd sure like to catch one though which is why, when you surfaced in the bay, I lunged at you." Déak ran a hand through his long hair. "I just assumed you were one of them and went nuts. I didn't see any snorkeling gear, so I knew I had an advantage. My plan was to half drown them before I let them up. Sorry you got caught in my anger."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and stared out at the bay. "They've taken all of this year's harvest. I hope they don't come back for the immature ones."

To Freja's disappointment she noticed the change of subject had cooled his passion. His hair was changing back to the palest blue. His cock had shrunk a couple of sizes. She clenched the thermos of water, too nervous to drink.

Everything was okay, she reassured herself. They had time. Precious time. At least she did. She realized she knew nothing about him and his current life. He might be mated with a baby or two in a cozy cottage that he shared with a stunning partner who loved him more than life itself.

"You called it your black abalone. Do you own it?"

"I do," he said. "I bought all the fishing and salvage rights to this bay a couple of years ago but I'm living in Grenvilleton now. It's not that far but work keeps me busy. I only get the chance to come back here every few months and I always take time to check my abalone beds. This is the first year they've attracted poachers."

"Grenvilleton." She repeated the only word that had registered. "How long have you lived there?"

"Since you exchanged vows with your safety match." He rubbed his eyebrows.

The hurt in his eyes, before he covered them with his hand, triggered a sickening wave of guilt through her. She'd punished both of them with her bad decision.

She wanted to tell him how bad it had been with Iwon, so he'd understand that she had been pushed into that matehood, not gone into it by choice. She'd been horrified when she eventually learned that Iwon was a hardcore gambler. His reputation was bad and getting worse. No one from his class would mate with him and his parents had been desperate. That was why they'd asked Matron for the hardest working girl in her class. Their deep pockets explained why Matron was so insistent Freja should choose Iwon.

The day that she and Iwon exchanged vows, his mother took Freja aside and said, "We paid five times the usual bride price for you. You better be worth it, you ugly little guttersnipe."

From that day on, Mr. and Mrs. Sándor transferred all their frustrations and disgust with Iwon to Freja, as though she was responsible for his addiction. Iwon seemed to believe it too. He quickly adopted their attitude of contempt. When she had sex with him, which wasn't often because worry over his gambling debts often let him impotent, he treated her like a whore. He demanded satisfaction in any way he wanted, completely disinterested in her or her pleasure.

The first time they'd met, he'd said he needed her. He was wrong. He needed to stop gambling. He needed to become responsible for his own behavior, to think beyond his own immediate pleasure.

He needed to grow up, to become a man.

She'd been so naïve when she met him.

Seeing the pained look in Déak's eyes made Freja want to protect him from sadness for the rest of his life. She swept away her own bad memories and smiled.

"What about you? Did you find a mate?" She tried to keep her voice light, as if whatever he told her would make no difference to her happiness.

"You ruined me." He gave a snort of laughter. "It's crazy. I know we had only that one day together but ever since then, no woman ever quite did it for me. I've had some good times, affairs that lasted months even." His voice was thick as though it was hard to speak. "But I never met anyone I wanted to join with."

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She thought her heart might burst with excitement as she allowed hope to flutter through her. He was single still. He was single because of her.

This was their second chance. If he could forgive her, they could start again. She studied his face and found his expression closed; his mood dulled. He stood less than an arm's reach away but he'd slipped into a dark place, a place of hurt and rejection.

She'd just made another mistake. Her efforts to control the situation had backfired. The growing intimacy had been derailed. The bright exciting moment of their reunion had turned into an anxious conversation about stolen abalone and past hurts. Freja wished they'd stayed in the water.

Throwing off his pensive mood, Déak looked her up and down. His eyes brightened as if he was truly seeing her for the first time since they got out of the water. His lips quirked in a smile. "Have you drunk some water yet? Rinsed your eyes? I see you haven't stripped like I told you. What do you think happens to a naughty girl who doesn't do what she's told?"
Reset

When Déak realized who he'd caught swimming in his bay, he thought he was hallucinating. Then the reality set in and he held himself back. With his heart overflowing he focused on the beautiful, bedraggled woman floating in his arms. The moment was as fragile as an eggshell.

Even when she launched herself at him and kissed him with a passion he'd only known once before in his life, he couldn't let her into his heart too quickly. Experience had taught him to be careful around her.

After all, he knew nothing about Freja and her current world. Dozens of questions crowded his head. How did she get here? Had she come looking for him? What senior position did she hold that came with the privilege of a CommBand?

When he looked at the handmade necklace she wore, hope silenced all his questions. Suspended from a single leather thong around her neck was a tiny basket. It looked like it had been styled out of the cages that held champagne corks in place. Trapped in the crude metal basket were two pieces of red sea glass, each no bigger than her baby fingernail.

She was wearing the only thing he ever gave her, even though she had no way of knowing they would meet again today. He wanted to shout with joy, after all this time she still cherished his small gifts. His feelings were not one-sided.

Since the day he'd received her clipped, formal letter of goodbye, he'd thought about her constantly. Then, not long ago, he'd heard that she'd lost her mate in cyclone Geordie, the worst to make landfall in Senne's history. Rumors said her late partner had left her with a mountain of debts so big, it would take a small fortune to repay them.

Déak didn't care. He had a small fortune. Several of his rare black abalone had given him more than just top price for their sweet flesh. They'd produced even rarer blue pearls. He only had to sell one of them to make enough money to ease his family's lives while also filling his bank account.

On top of that, he lived frugally and his talents as a chef were adding to his riches. What good was money if he couldn't use it to help someone? There was no one in the universe that he'd rather help than Freja.

He'd wanted to seek her out so many times but resisted. She'd blown him off once and it was up to her to make contact if she wanted to. He never thought she would. She was so beautiful, in her heart and soul, he was sure she'd have a lineup of suitors, many of them rich enough to repay her debt several times without making a dent in their wealth.

Still, he had more to offer than he'd ever dreamed when they first met.

The first seconds of this reunion were the most awkward he'd ever had with a woman. He had so much he wanted to say to her, to ask her, but he was frozen by disbelief that she was there with him, in the flesh.

Then she'd wrapped her hands around his head and kissed him in a way that left no doubts about her feelings. She was carrying a torch for him, just like he had been for her.

When she'd insisted that she could swim to shore by herself, despite being clearly exhausted, he knew he'd be paddling that delectable bottom of hers again before they left the beach. As he swam to land with her floating behind him, he imagined her tipped over his lap. He was glad she couldn't see the hardon swelling his trunks at the image.

Once on the beach, she'd defied him when he'd told her to strip. But the look in her eyes clearly said I dare you.

Déak couldn't resist a challenge so he'd let her play her little game asking about the poachers. She was really asking about his determination to carry through his threat. So as soon as he saw that defeated look on her face, the one that said she'd played a game and lost, he posed the question he'd been waiting to ask her in one form or another for years. Then he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the same log where he'd sat to spank her four years before.

He stood her on the ground beside him. "You didn't answer my question. What do you think happens to a naughty girl who doesn't do what she's told?"

She looked at her hands that were cupped in front of her.

"I don't know." Her voice was lost in the sound of the waves washing on shore.

"I think you do. Do you remember what happened the first time we met? Right here, on this fallen tree?"

She studied the huge log, now bleached by sun and surf, as if it held the answer. After a hard swallow, she said, "Yes."

He drew her closer, peeled her panties off and draped them beside where he sat. Leaving her standing in front of him, he nudged her legs apart and cupped her mound. "You gave me power over you, didn't you?"

His hand slid down and a finger slipped between the folds of her cleft. He grinned. Her petals were moist and her bud was swelling. He circled it lazily.

"I asked you a question. Did you give me power over you back then?"

"I did."

"Are you giving me that power again today?" He spoke slowly and deliberately, not wanting any misunderstanding.

"I'd like to." Her pelvis pushed against his hand and her breath quickened. She'd closed her eyes.

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Good. Have you been a naughty girl, not doing what you were told?"

"Yes."

He smacked her bottom. "Please try a more respectful tone when you are being corrected."

"Yes sir."

"Much better." He eased her into a sitting position on his lap. "Even before we met, I knew you had problems with authority. You were often in trouble at the Girls Crib, weren't you?"

He didn't say that he understood, that it must have been lonely living in dorms with other kids, no parents to look after her, to help her find her way. She'd had no one to love or comfort her when the craziness of life gnawed at her heart.

He wouldn't make promises, that was too easy. But if she'd let him, he'd give her all that he had to keep her safe and happy.

"Might have been, sir."

"I heard you used to smoke in your dorm room and when you were grounded for that as punishment, you used to sneak out."

A faint smile lit her face. She was proud of her unruly behavior and that made his cock stir again. The rebellious spirit that had shone through in her letters had been one of the things about her that had charmed him. Well-behaved women bored him.

"You were a ringleader too, I heard. Sometimes you took alcohol into the dorm. There was another incident about one in the morning when, dead sober, you led the entire senior class in a merry dance down the main street of town, wearing nothing but your bras and panties. True?"

"There were only five of us in that class and no one would have known except those stupid fishermen had come back on a crazy late tide and chased us into the park. We weren't hurting anyone. We were just kids. What's your point? That's all ancient history. Sir." She spat out the sir.

Déak bit back a smile. He loved her feistiness.

"The point is, you've always been a naughty girl, haven't you?"

"That's the way some people might see it, sir."

"Then you and I are going to get along just fine. Whenever you're misbehaving, I will help you atone for your naughtiness. Are you willing to let me?"

She snuggled against him, leaning her head against his chest in a submissive, but not meek, way that made his heart pound faster. He wasn't going to tell her how much he'd learned about her even before she'd ditched him for Iwon. His father, on his weekly rounds delivering fruit and vegetables to the Girls Crib, had made inquiries.

Matron told Mr. Ryba pointblank that Freja was too much of a handful for a farmer's son. To prove her point, she told him about some of Freja's antics. A girl like that needed someone with a military type of background who would understand the need for regular and firm discipline.

Despite Matron's warning, Déak had continued to hope that Freja would choose him. He was devastated when she didn't, but it hadn't come as a complete surprise.

Déak wondered if the deep sadness he sensed in Freja was because Iwon had been cruel to her. Had he punished her too hard or too often? Had he failed to give her the gentle aftercare a girl needed when she'd had a good paddling?

Whatever had made Freja sad in the past, Déak was determined he would fix it in the future. Nothing was going to bruise her heart again.

He couldn't say the same for her luscious ass.

"I asked you a question: are you willing to accept your punishment for disobedience today?"

He hugged her close to him, enjoying the briny smell of her hair along with something sweet and musky that was rising with her body heat.

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice low but the tone definite.

"Before we start, I want to know if you suffered any abuse in your matehood with Iwon because I don't want to remind you of bad times."

She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "You mean from corporal punishment?"

"Yes."

Her entire body tensed so quickly, he was certain she must be haunted by old wounds.

"Ha." The snort of laughter she gave was deeply bitter. "He never even tried. We looked after Teardrop Lighthouse for almost three years and I never, even once, got to experience any of the wonderful things there. I changed the sheets that were still damp with the evidence of other lovers' passions. I wiped tearstains off the hitching posts and oiled the leather cuffs and straps between sessions. I replaced broken paddles and untied the discarded ropes. I washed and ironed the soft blindfolds and more. I did all that and not once was Iwon curious enough to test those instruments even in play."

"Why do I sense there is something more to your hurt?" He stroked her back, the way a person soothes a small child.

She bent her head, pressing her fingertips against her temples. "I haven't told anyone what life was like with Iwon. I try to forget those lost years, but they shadow me still."

"Let the ghosts out, My Innocent." He drew her back against his chest. "Talk to me."

She blew out a long breath. "Iwon only took me as his mate because no one else would have him. Because his parents told him to." She bit her lip and pondered for a minute, as though weighing exactly how much she should tell him. "After we exchanged vows, I learned that he'd been addicted to gambling for years. He'd bet on anything. Cards. Dice. Two flies crawling up a wall. Did you know that his parents bribed Matron so she would force me to choose him?"

She shook her head. "Of course, you didn't. Neither did I until it was too late." She wrung her hands and Déak wondered if she was imagining wringing Iwon's neck. "Everyone in that family hated me. But I was bought and paid for and they were going to get their money's worth. His parents called me Crib girl or Iwon's chit. They were so nonchalant with the insult it was like they didn't think I had any reason to be hurt. The best they managed was when they simply called me girl."

"Did you have to spend a lot of time with his parents?"

"We lived with them for the first month until Iwon's Sentry Station appointment came through. By the time we moved out, even Iwon was calling me chit or girl."

She paused. "I didn't mind being a nobody in the Girls Crib, but once I left it, I hoped to start living, to do something with my life, to become important to someone." She coughed. "My mateship was three years of being contracted to a man who didn't care about me. He only touched me when he wanted to be fucked."

As unhappiness poured out, her body relaxed. Déak decided that was good, cathartic. He would show her so much love, she'd let go of the bitter past.

He tipped her face up to his and kissed her tenderly before whispering sweetness in her mouth. "You are a beautiful, spirited woman and I promise to always remember that and treat you like the treasure you are."

His lips closed on hers and they kissed like it was the first time, a tentative affirmation of affection.

"I don't know if we'll ever get the chance to use the Teardrop Lighthouse but if we do, I can promise you there won't be a single piece of equipment we won't try. We'll leave the sheets soaked and the blindfold tearstained, just to show what we experienced there." He eased her back to her feet. "If we don't get to the lighthouse, we'll create a playroom of our own."

Freja gave a small hiccup of delight. As he eased her over his lap, he saw the droplets of her juices dotting the top of her thighs.

This woman was in desperate need of a release and he was only too happy to give her one.
Capture and release

Déak had done it again. He'd pushed all the right buttons. Somehow, he'd sensed Freja's darkest secrets. He'd bought them out in the open where the sunshine and warmth of his affection was making them evaporate.

She'd never felt freer or happier than that minute when she was positioning herself across his lap again. Her upper torso draped over one side of his powerful thighs, leaving her arms, head, hair dangling. Her nude bottom was raised to the sky and her toes didn't reach the ground behind her.

The first and only time she'd been spanked before, Déak had left her clothes on and discretely exposed only the white moons of her butt. There was no such barrier between them now. The rawness of her nudity thrilled her.

This was only the second time in her life she'd lifted her backside to sunlight and felt the natural heat that nothing else could imitate. She'd forgotten how exciting it was to offer up a part of herself like a human sacrifice. Her pulse raced with a heady mixture of fear and eager anticipation. Déak's hand circled one buttock and then the other. The sensation calmed her.

When he pushed her thighs apart, she didn't resist. Nor did she tense when his fingers opened her nether lips and circled her clitoris before dipping into her pussy.

"You are so ready for this, aren't you My Innocent? But remember, while today you can call stop at any point." Two fingers plunged into her, thrusting gently as he spoke. "That is not an option you will have every time I spank you. Make sure you use it wisely, if at all."

He stopped caressing her and his hand lifted and began to rise and fall in gentle strokes. Freja shivered happily at the pleasant tattoo. She liked being free like this, giving the power of decision-making to Déak. He knew what she wanted. More importantly, he knew what she needed. Freja had no doubt.

As if reading her mind, he stopped and pushed her thighs even farther apart. He smacked her pussy lips softly. "This jewel, this velvet crease, it should have been mine for the past four years, shouldn't it?"

She murmured something even she didn't understand. It was an animal noise, a sound that indicated agreement.

"I didn't hear you," he said and punctuated his words with a sound slap, the most painful since he'd started.

"Um. Yes. Yes, sir."

"Yes sir, what?" He slapped the inside of her thighs so hard, she whimpered.

"Yes, sir. It should have been yours for the past four years."

The spanking moved to the top of her thighs. "You could have chosen me, but Matron persuaded you to choose Iwon, didn't she?" With that question, the most painful stroke of the afternoon fell on her warm bottom.

"Yes, yes she did, sir. She said I should choose him because he would look after me."

Smack. Another stinging hit to her raised cheeks.

"Did he look after you, My Innocent?" He paused, waiting for her answer.

"No sir. He did not. He looked after himself. And he gambled. And borrowed money from anyone who would lend it to him. He refused to talk about money with me, so I didn't know how bad things were. And he left me so many fucking debts. I have to repay them, no matter how long it takes." She hadn't intended to tell Déak that last detail, it was so shaming. But in this position, he owned her, controlled her. She had to answer any questions he posed honestly.

Realizing that, she wriggled in a half-hearted attempt to get away from him but his hand in the middle of her back held her firm. Then he started again, and the spanking was harder and faster. She wondered if she was being punished for the profanity or for the fact that she'd been stupid enough to choose Iwon. Maybe it was her simple worthlessness as a charity girl that had earned the spanking. Self-loathing started to consume her which made her hate herself more. She squirmed and bucked against Déak's punishment. He ignored her attempts to get away and she didn't ask him to stop.

She absorbed the pain and the humiliation and internalized it all. With it, her temper, her fear, and her frustration rolled into a bomb, waiting for someone to light the fuse. She pounded her fists against Déak's legs.

He didn't stop spanking.

"You are a naughty girl, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question even though his voice lifted at the end of it. Three sharp slaps to each thigh followed.

"By who's rules?" Freja kicked her legs so hard she thought she might propel herself off his lap and into another galaxy.

He held her tighter and smacked her sit spot with more power than one man should possess. "Good point. We'll talk about that later."

He sounded mildly amused and that infuriated her even more.

The next powerful swat broke through her torn curtain of tolerance. The pain in her bottom and thighs burst, spreading like fire through her entire body. A sheen of perspiration misted her, and her anger and outrage with the world exploded. She wanted to make the rules. She was tired of trying to be a good, gentle woman.

If Déak wanted a yes-sir and no-sir, kind of mate then she had been all wrong about him. Well fuck him and, as the old ones liked to say, the horse he rode in on. Horse. A human word. Déak was half human. Maybe he'd know it.

Or maybe she spoke a language that no one else understood and that was why she'd ended up bound to a man who didn't like her. Her thoughts were wild as Déak continued to spank her. Maybe she was being chastised for pure stupidity. What sort of dummy couldn't tell when her mate was spending money they didn't have? She should be spanked for that alone. Or had the past year of working fifty to sixty hours a week to make a small dent in the mountain of debt been punishment enough?

How many times had she gone over this ground?

Why hadn't she chosen Déak? She'd loved everything about him even before she met him. Being with him again had confirmed her feeling for him. She'd been so timid when she'd let that demon at the Crib talk her into ruining her life.

Four years later and it was like she and Déak had only been apart a few days. She felt so stupid, so guilty for the way she'd betrayed her own instincts back then. But she'd been young and shapeless, unused to asking for what she wanted, let alone insisting on it. She hadn't recognized her own sixth sense when it prickled the back of her neck every time Iwon came close. It had taken her years to understand when her Kedrant instincts were warning her. Even now she sometimes missed the signal.

Déak knew what she needed this day. She needed release. He understood that she craved this spanking with every cell in her body even though half of her didn't want it, wanted to get up and run away, to go back to the drudgery of working two or three jobs just to hand her money to someone she'd never met for pleasures that hadn't been hers to enjoy.

Her body told the real story. When Déak's hand fell wet on her bottom, she knew her juices were splashing him. Her nipples ached for his touch, for his mouth and teeth on them. Her pussy tightened with each swat.

As her body heated, inside and out, she cried. Her temper cooled and her resistance faltered. She couldn't lift her hand let alone make a fist. She lay, defeated, across his knees.

When her body went limp and she was sobbing so hard that she could barely catch her breath, Déak stopped. He lifted her back onto his lap and tucked her salt-crusted hair behind her ears. His hand smelled like pussy, like the gingerfruits she'd been eating three times a day because they were in season and very cheap.

"It's okay, My Innocent," he said. "Let it all out. You've paid dearly for one bad decision but that's behind you now." He rocked her on his lap, keeping her wrapped and safe in his arms, as he repeated, "It's all over. I'm going to look after you from now on."

"I'm so dumb," she said. "I wanted you, not Iwon, but everyone I knew said you were wrong for me. That I could do better." A low sob escaped her. "They were wrong, not me. You were too good for me. I didn't deserve you."

He nuzzled her ear. "Or maybe I didn't deserve you because I didn't fight hard enough to get you. I respected your decision. Now you're telling me that you said no but wanted to say yes? I'll remember that, particularly when you need a good spanking." His voice lifted with amusement, but his embrace tightened, comforting her. "If you'd given me the slightest indication that I had a chance, the queen's army couldn't have stopped me getting to you." He kissed her collarbone, her neck, her ear, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. "I apologize for not trying harder. If I'd known how much I was going to hurt after losing you, I would have broken down the city walls with my bare hands to get to you."

A few beats of silence passed before he cleared his throat and spoke again. "It must have been hard making a decision without anyone supporting you. But I'm on your side and I will always help you decide what's best for you, okay? And if we do this right, what's best for you will be best for me too."

He set her on her feet and fetched a blanket. They spread it on the grassy ground together.

Holding out his arms, he said. "Come, it's your turn to strip me. If I keep these trunks on a minute longer, I'm going to rip them open."
Worth waiting for

Déak waited for Freja to follow his instructions. As she peeled off his trunks, her eyes widened at the size of him.

He grinned at her openmouthed surprise.

"You did that," he said. His hair was now black with desire and his complexion ten times darker than usual. He moved closer and rubbed the flat of his palms against her hard nipples. Desire had turned them into rubies, gem-hard and brilliant red.

"I think we've waited long enough for the next step," he said, easing himself down to the blanket and drawing her beside him. They lay, facing each other, side by side.

Boosting himself up on one elbow, he drew patterns around her breasts with his index finger. "You have got me so full of lust; I may not last long the first time."

Freja bit back her fear at the size of him. She reached gingerly and stroked his massive cock. She'd been with two men before him, both human so neither had this wondrous Devmaerean potency. His hard muscle twitched at her touch. She giggled with nerves and raw desire.

"You're going to split me in two," she whispered, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She wasn't saying no and hoped he understood that. She was wet and ready, her pussy ached for him, damn the risks. She'd be happy to be split by him.

His eyes racked her body. His hair was black with lust, his skin now a telltale inky blue. At her words of worry, he squeezed her hip reassuringly, to let her know he'd be gentle. Then he moved closer, his lips closing over hers. His tongue dipped deep into her mouth, enticing her to press her body against his muscular frame.

Her entire body was electrified. Her hips started rock. Her pussy clenched. He wouldn't last long this first time? Neither would she.

She edged away from him, bending in half so she could take his throbbing cock in her hands. The skin over it was stretched tight and it smelled spicy. She flattened her tongue against it, lapping up one side and then the other. She flicked the tip with her tongue and was rewarded with the salty tasty of his precum.

Déak groaned. He reached for her, bringing her back to her side, facing him again. He'd taken her away from her prize, from her effort to control the situation.

"If you do that, everything is going to end right now, and we haven't even started," he said. "I want you to have some fun too."

Those were the most loving words she'd ever heard. She settled beside him again. He looked at her fiercely, his black eyes glittering like dark jewels in the bright sun. She saw his desire, his intention to look after her, and she knew she could let go. She could trust him, just like she had when he spanked her.

She opened her thighs slightly, the tiniest invitation. He followed with a shallow thrust. He was wider than a human, but her body stretched to take him. He shimmied closer and thrust again. Her back bowed and her pussy clenched.

He was huge and wonderful, filling her. Throbbing inside her.

Sweat glistened off his chest. "Am I hurting you?"

"No." The word was a puff of air. She closed her eyes, savoring his penetration. If she died this moment, they'd have to surgically remove the smile from her face.

Her hips rocked and his thrusts continued, slow and teasing.

She moved closer to him, understanding at last why they were making love in this position: it gave her control of the depth of penetration. When she straightened her legs, his thrusts were shallower.

She raised a leg, wrapping his buttocks, and gasped at how much deeper his cock reached.

"You are amazing," he said pumping harder. "You're taking all of me now." His thrusts came faster, deeper still.

Freja moaned with pleasure, astonished by her own flexibility. Both sets of lips tingled. She squeezed her eyes tight. She shuddered with her first orgasm.

As Déak kissed her collarbone, her neck, her ears, she came a second time. He groaned and then his pace slowed. He threw back his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and shudders racked his formidable frame.

His orgasm pushed Freja over the edge again and she clung to him in a viselike grip, whimpering at this new and unexpected happiness.

After they collapsed together, Déak rolled onto his back and she curled into him. Earthy smells of sex, sea, and sweat filled her nostrils. Déak murmured words of love, weighted by a heavy drowsiness that she shared. As sleep claimed her, Freja couldn't say where reality ended and dreaming began.

***

The buzzing of Freja's CommBand woke them. She squinted at it with love-addled eyes. "Damn. It's a message star," she said, uncoiling from the post-lovemaking tangle of salt-crusted limbs.

She touched a button and a shimmering star flew out of the CommBand in a glittering arc. It burst into a constellation of sparkles that formed an oval frame.

Ben and Erin's solemn faces looked out.

"Freja, where are you?" Erin's voice was thin with worry. "Your bike and pack are still here but there is no sign of you on the beach."

"Please contact us as soon as you get this." Ben spoke in a clipped, military way. He looked at his wrist. "Why isn't tracking enabled on your CommBand? Are you in trouble? I'm prepared to wait one more hour and then I'll call out the search and rescue team." He pointed to the time and date stamp that appeared in the bottom of the frame.

"Message us. Now." He glared into the camera as though Freja had set out to ruin his day and exceeded his expectations.

The image crackled and disappeared.

"Damn." Déak sat up, wide awake. "You better send a message right now. Tell them you're okay and will be back to pick up your bike very soon."

"Okay how? Should I tell them about this place? About the karshark? About you?"

"Karshark?" Déak asked, frowning with concern.

She grinned. "We probably need to have a proper conversation soon," she said. "Yes, a karshark. It chased me into the tunnel that led me here. I've never seen one in these waters before. Where do you think it came from?"

"The answer to my prayers? I was too busy getting ready to jump your bones to give it much thought."

"What do I say right now? I take it you don't want anyone coming here."

"No thanks," he said. He offered her his hand. "How about we rinse the salt off our skin and when you're looking less like a drowned rat, you message them back."

"Shower?" She smiled at the possibility.

"There's a small waterfall over there," he pointed to a clump of trees. "You don't want to be sending a star when your body is loose and easy with satisfaction. Come."

The waterfall was a short walk away, along a trail that wasn't much more than an animal track. At the bottom of the waterfall was a shallow pond, bathed in sunlight. Water spilled over one edge into a creek that flowed toward the ocean. They stepped under the waterfall together and tenderly rinsed each other's bodies. Afterward, they shared the single towel that he'd brought from the beach.

He let her use it first.

Without attempting to hide anything, she dried her legs, her cleft, her slightly rounded stomach and heavy breasts. All the while, she made small self-caressing gestures. Her performance was rewarded with a standing ovation from Déak. His hair and complexion also signaled his arousal. She laughed with delight.

He snatched the towel from her and said, "You're lucky we're in a hurry to answer Ben's message."

She kept her eyes on him as she pulled on her partially dried clothes. They felt damp still and slightly crusty, although the second sensation may have been more her imagination than fact. Having this power over Déak, being with a man who was aroused by the simple sight of her, was a new experience. With Iwon it had taken all her training to help him get an occasional feeble erection. Over three years, she'd almost started to believe that she was the problem, that she was so undesirable that no man could want her.

Here was Déak, confirming what she'd only dared hope was true: when a couple is well matched, heroic efforts aren't necessary.

As they walked back to the beach, they agreed on what she would say. She chose a thicket of whitegan trees as a background for her message. Whitegans, a broad-leafed evergreen, were known for their restorative powers. From their bark that could be made into a poultice to heal wounds to their leaves that could be boiled into a tea that soothed the most upset stomachs, they were a symbol of nature's ability to heal. They were exactly the message she wanted to send.

"Hi! I'm so sorry. I should have let you know sooner that I'm okay. I got caught in a rip and had to swim to the far end of the beach to get past it." She offered minimal details; she had no intention of telling them about the bay and the black abalone.

"Then I met Déak Ryba. Remember him from our final year in the Crib? Anyway, he was in the water, snorkeling by the ridge and saw me struggling so he helped me out to shore. I've been here, lying on his blanket resting. Sorry I shouldn't have worried you."

She gave an apologetic shrug. "Déak has a hoverbike and will bring me to your place soon. My clothes are pretty dry now and I'm rested after my big adventure. See you in a bit."

She'd told the truth, knowing that they would fill in the blanks. Yes, Déak had been snorkeling off the ridge. If they'd assumed she meant their side of the ridge, that wasn't her fault.

Everyone knew it was possible to walk to that end of the beach, few people ever bothered. The rocky foreshore and tricky currents made it a hostile place for swimming.

She signed off with a bright smile that anyone paying close attention would have recognized as the blissful look of a well satisfied woman. She didn't care what Ben and Erin thought. The only thing that mattered to her now was spending every free minute she could find for the rest of her life with the man she'd loved since the day she'd met him.
Friends and enemies

At the Sentry Station house, Ben and Erin invited Déak and Freja to have dinner with them.

"Thanks anyway," Freja said quickly.

"I'd love to stop but I can't," Déak said at the same time. He looked at Freja and they burst out laughing.

"Sorry," Freja said. "I appreciate the invitation, but I really want to shower and wash my hair."--

"And I want to help her," Déak said, putting an arm around her.

Ben frowned slightly but Erin grinned. "So finally, you guys get a second chance. I couldn't be happier for you."

A chill ran over Freja. What was Erin saying? She'd always thought Erin's support for Iwon was genuine, something she believed in.

"I thought you should have chosen Déak." Erin took one of her hands and squeezed it. "But Matron bullied me into supporting her campaign for Iwon. Will you ever forgive me?"

"What are you talking about?" Freja's grip on Erin's hand tightened.

Erin hung her head, not looking at any of them for a couple of minutes. Then she lifted her chin. "Life in the Crib wasn't easy," she said. "Matron had all the power, including the power to veto any of our choices for partners. The only way we could fight her in respect to our choices for mates was to go in front of a judge and ask to have her decision set aside. None of us knew how to do that and it wasn't like anyone was going to help us."

Erin sighed. "She told me if I didn't support her decision for you to mate with Iwon, then she'd make sure that I never got my Ticket of Leave, that I'd never be allowed to mate with Ben."

Anger flashed in Ben's eyes. "Why haven't I heard this before?" he demanded.

"What could you have done? Exactly nothing!" Erin said. "I made my decision and I've had to live with the guilt and regrets ever since. I don't mean I regret joining with you." She turned a soulful face to Ben. "But I did help Matron push Freja into a wrong decision. To be fair, I didn't know how wrong that decision was. I honestly believed Matron was right, at least I convinced myself I did."

"You knew how I felt about Déak," Freja said without inflection.

"I did. I thought you'd get over what Matron called your schoolgirl crush. But when I saw you after your first week with Iwon, I knew you hadn't. Worse than that, I could tell Iwon wasn't kind to you." Erin's face tightened with regret. "Even with his big public shows of affection, it was soon obvious to me that all he brought to your matehood was a sense of entitlement."

She rubbed her eyes as though rubbing away the guilt from the past. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Freja hugged her. "I already have," she said, certain that if Déak hadn't reappeared she would never have learned how Erin had been coerced. "Matron had us both trapped. What good would it have done if we'd both ended up miserable? She wouldn't have let me mate with Déak no matter what. Once Mrs. Sándor decided Iwon should have me as his mate, it was a hopeless cause. While my years with Iwon were lost years, I learned a lot. I learned how to be happy with myself. And now I'm with Déak again." She smiled at him. "For now at least."

"Yep, she's with me again and if you think anyone is going to get between us this time," Déak said, "think again. We're meant to be together and things worth having are worth waiting for." He hugged Freja and she felt the conviction of his words.

With that settled, Déak borrowed some rope from Ben and tied Freja's bicycle to his hoverbike and they headed back to town.

***

She supplied him with an address two blocks away from her tiny house. She didn't want him to see how poor she was.

When he stopped and untied her bike, he asked, "Where do you live?"

"Not here. I've got to return the bike. It's borrowed."

"Are you going to tell me where you live or do I have to stalk you?"

"I'd rather not," she said, her throat parched at the idea of him seeing her shabby home.

"How will I get in touch with you?"

She pointed to her CommBand. "Send a message from a CommBooth?"

He took her hand and smiled down at her, his eyes warm with love and lust. "I don't want to say good-bye."

"But I have to get up early tomorrow. I work very long days." She didn't say what type of work she did, which was anything that would earn her a devcent. She cleaned houses, looked after babies, cared for the elderly, made meals for people who didn't like to cook. Whatever would put a devro into her pocket, legally and without obligation, she'd do it. At the rate she was earning, she reckoned she'd clear all of Iwon's debts maybe in ten years, as long as she stayed healthy and strong.

Déak gave her an unreadable look before pushing his hand into her tangled corkscrew curls and bringing her mouth to his. He kissed her so savagely that she thought her lips might bruise. Then he climbed on the hovercraft and flicked a switch. It lifted a foot off the ground and sped away. He was gone and Freja stood wondering, for just a second, if she had been dreaming.

***

When Déak had looked into her bewitching eyes, one green, one blue, and she evaded his request for her address, the pain in her expression saddened him. She'd had a hard life and, from what he was learning, it had been even worse since she left the Crib.

He had only a few days left in Foxglen before he had to return to Grenvilleton to start a new position. He'd accepted a post in one of the preeminent houses of Senne, as chef for Admiral Kai Grenville. Kai had tried to hire him for over a year but Déak hadn't wanted to be tied to a single contract. In the end they'd agreed that when Kai was out of town, as he often was, Déak would have the freedom to make guest appearances elsewhere and the time to continue writing his series of cookbooks.

Obviously Freja didn't follow celebrity news or she might have been aware of how his career had taken off once he'd left Foxglen. He was glad that her response to him was as innocent and unassuming as it had been the first time they met.

The short time he had remaining in Foxglen made him twice as determined to see her again soon. More than that, it made him determined to possess her, to make her his, and take her away from that town of so much unhappiness.

After dropping her, he stopped at the courthouse and paid a fee to read Iwon's probate file. His jaw dropped at the obscene amount of debt Iwon had burdened Freja with. He paid for a copy and took it away with him. Then he went to the cozy cottage he had built on his parents' farm and found the last two blue pearls he'd locked away in a safe. He pocketed both of them.

He made the two-hour drive to Grenvilleton in an hour and visited the broker who had bought the first blue pearl. Before sunset, Déak was back in Foxglen with a bank draft large enough to repay every single devro Iwon's estate owed and more.

He found the executor of the estate at home. A slender Devmaerean-human cross with a pale blue complexion like his own, she was delighted to invite him in. She'd just been watching one of his cooking shows on the viewing screen. Her mate and their young daughter chirped with delight when she introduced him.

"Thank you for your welcome," he said. "Is there some place we can talk?"

She showed him to a small office, but he said no to her offer of coffee or something stronger. When he handed her the bank draft, her eyes widened at the amount.

"That's too much," she said, touching her throat as if it was suddenly hard to swallow.

"That's fine. Please deduct your fees and pay the excess to Mr. Sándor's widow. How soon can you do that?"

"Immediately, if you'll sign one of your cookbooks for us."

He grinned. "Fair trade. Can you give me a statement right now saying that all the debt attached to his estate has been cleared?"

Déak left the house, grateful for the random luck so long ago that had just lifted Freja's burden.

***

He drove to the address the executor had given him. When he pulled up out front the big white house with its peeling paint and rubbish-strewn yard, his heart sank. Surely, Freja wasn't living in such a hovel.

A young Devmaerean male answered his knock on the door. "Naw. That Kedrant trash doesn't live in a real house like proper folk. She's in the shed out back."

Anger flashed red through Déak's hair as he picked his way around the rotting food, broken bits of furniture, and other detritus littering the yard. He had to get Freja out of there as fast as he could. From the moment he laid eyes on the tiny shack, he knew it was hers. The roof sagged and one of the walls had a distinct lean. It looked like it was one good windstorm away from collapsing.

A small apron of yard surrounding the shack said it was hers. Planted with cheerful red and white flowers and pale pink groundcover plants it was an oasis in the wasteland of garbage. The faded curtains in the windows where clean and crisply ironed. The clothes she'd been wearing that day were washed and hanging from a clothesline that was strung between a post on her tiny front porch and a thin oak tree.

He knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" her voice sounded falsely aggressive, as if she was trying to intimidate whoever might be outside her door.

"Déak," he said, his voice carefully neutral.
Turning back time

"What're you doing here?" Freja asked through the closed door.

"Please open up so we can talk," Déak said.

"I'm not dressed," she said weakly. Her only jeans and t-shirt were on the line. She was wearing a faded house dress that was paper thin.

He knocked again. "We just spent half the afternoon together naked. Now open this door or I'm breaking it down."

She considered asking him to leave but he sounded determined and her door was flimsy.

"I'm going to count to three," Déak's voice was firm.

"Just a second." She glanced around. She had never been ashamed of her home before because no one had ever visited it until now.

Trust Déak to find her, to force her into showing him what she'd hidden from the world. Her shoulders drooped. She couldn't keep secrets from him, nor did she want to. This was it then. Time to see his true colors.

It was one thing to have told him that she had debts. Even with that knowledge, he didn't know how bad her situation was. Her shabby little space told a fuller story.

No use stalling. The door creaked open and she hid behind it, poking her head around to see him. "Yes?" she asked. Her heart raced at the sight of him, at his powerful presence standing there, smiling down at her. There was fire in his black eyes, but she couldn't figure out what she'd done to anger him. Surely he wasn't mad because she'd hesitated for maybe two seconds.

Not waiting for an invitation, he walked in, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. She couldn't offer him a chair because there wasn't one. Her only pieces of furniture were a single mattress and a wooden crate that she used as a night table. The place was so small those two meager pieces filled it.

Her lower lip trembled as she fought back tears of shame.

"You can leave now if you like." Her words came out more stridently than she intended. If she was going to lose him, she'd rather he went right away, without making polite apologies or promises to see her again that he wouldn't keep.

He spun and looked at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I said Iwon left me debt, but you can't imagine how much debt. No one would blame you for leaving right now. I know I wouldn't."

"Is this everything you own?" he asked, waving his hand around the room.

"It is."

"Good then pack it into your bag and that wooden box. You're moving out of here. Now."

She froze at the sudden, welcome news. "I am?"

"I built a small cottage on my parents' farm. It's where I stay when I'm in town. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a man now, too big for my childhood room under the rafters. I have a home of my own and I want you to move in with me."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Both. But you can stay here if you like." He stood back, smiling.

"Let me think." She closed her eyes, considering his offer. Her racing heart almost drowned out her thoughts. Her stomach flipped and she wanted to break into a happy jig. She had nothing to lose.

She opened her eyes and gave a bark of laughter. "I accept," she said and fanned her arms to seal the offer with a kiss.

Less than five minutes later her few possessions were packed, including the damp clothes from the line. Déak tied the box on the back of his hoverbike and helped her onto the pillion seat with her bulging bag.

He'd rescued her twice in a single day. Now she was piling up debts of another kind. She hoped these might be easier to settle.

***

Déak's house was on the far side of his parents' property, giving everyone lots of privacy. He parked in a small lean-to on one side of the quaint bungalow with its thatched roof and wildflower garden. Outside the door, he set her things down to unlock it before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her inside.

She caught a glimpse of a small open area with simple furniture. The walls, the carpet, and the upholstery were in grassy tones that matched the green of the trees and fields outside. The kitchen was the size of the sitting and dining area combined. He pushed open the bedroom door and deposited her gently on a bed that was bigger than the shack she'd just vacated. It was covered with a rich cotton duvet that matched the green of the padded headboard.

"Unfortunately, there is only one bedroom." His lips twitched as he sat and leaned over her. Then he kissed her. Forehead. Cheeks. Lips. And lips again. She began to slide, to lose herself in the magic of his touch. She had to get control.

She wriggled away and stood up on the opposite side of the bed. Lifting her chin and putting her hands on her hips, she surveyed the room like a visiting monarch. "This will do me just fine. But where are you going to sleep?"

In two strides Déak was beside her. A second later she was over his knee and his hand was landing fast and firmly. "Are you going to share the bedroom?" he asked as he swatted her.

"I'll think about it." She was laughing so hard she could barely speak.

This was what she wanted. She wanted him to make the decision for her, to show her that he understood her needs. Right now, she needed to be free from any sensation other than the rising and falling of his powerful hand. She loved the gentle spanking that was his way of showing that he understood her needs.

"Are you thinking about it now?" He'd lifted the thin fabric of her housedress and dragged down her panties. The pace slowed as he allowed each smack to register full force on her tender bottom.

"Yes, I've thought about it! Yes! I will share the bedroom." Her buttocks were still stinging from the recent spanking, but her laughter lessened any hurt.

"Good," he said and sat her on his lap. "Welcome to our country cottage. I built it thinking of you. You're the only woman I've ever wanted to be my mate. So I allowed myself to dream that one day we'd share it and now you're here. It's not grand, but we have a lot of land and can make it bigger if you like."

"Are you kidding?" She shivered with delight. "You saw where I've been living for the past year. I had an outhouse for a toilet and only a single sink to wash in. I had to go to the change rooms at Queen Vasa Park when I wanted a hot shower. Fortunately, I swim a lot so that part wasn't hard." Glancing around she added, "Please tell me this place has indoor plumbing."

"Of course it does, My Innocent. Including a bath big enough for the two of us." He bounced his eyebrows at her, and another delicious tremor ran over her. "But before that, it's time for me to feed you. You're still beautiful but it looks to me like you haven't been eating so well lately."

He prepared a simple meal of pasta, homemade bread, and salad. They ate outside, watching the long spring shadows creep over the pasture. He left her there while he went inside to get dessert.

When he returned, he handed her a bowl of chocolate pudding and a narrow envelope.

She opened it and read the document inside. Her eyes flew from the words on the page to his face and back again. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the meaning became clear. At first, she could only push out single syllables. "How? Why? What? I mean..."

"I don't know what I mean." Blowing out a big breath, she brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. "Thank you. This is unbelievable. But it's too much. I can never repay you."

"I don't want you to. The day I met you was the dividing mark in my life. Ever since then, I've been a lucky man. I'm happy to share that luck."

With that, all his dreams and hopes came spilling out. He told her how he hoped she wouldn't renew her vows with Iwon at the end of four years. He'd intended to come looking for her then but when he learned she'd been widowed he didn't want to impose on her grief.

"One thing confuses me." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

She tilted her head to say yes? Her entire body felt so light, she clung to the side of her chair to stop herself from floating away.

He touched her CommBand. "This," he said. "Where did you get it? How did you get it? I don't have one and I'm about to start working for one the most powerful men in the country."

She looked at it with a slight sneer. "It was a bribe."

"What?"

"Iwon sent it to me as a gift to show me how much money and influence he had." She twisted the cold metal around her wrist. "At least that's what I thought when I got it. I learned later that his parents used their influence to obtain it. They'd selected me to be his mate based on my looks and my reputation of being one of the hardest working girls in the Crib. He thought an extravagant gift like this would impress me."

"Did it?" Déak's voice was cautious.

"It sure didn't hurt but Matron had already given me the clear impression she wouldn't sign my Ticket of Leave if I didn't choose Iwon."

"She had no right." Red flashes of anger sparked in his hair.

"Might makes right, doesn't it? If she refused to sign my Ticket, I would still be in the Crib now. No one crosses Matron and her greed for money is legendary. Iwon's parents wanted grandbabies and they were prepared to pay for them. Getting a Crib girl was his last hope of finding a mate." She spun the CommBand around her wrist. "This gift was proof of how far his parents would go to get something they wanted."

She sucked on a spoonful of pudding thoughtfully.

Déak pushed his bowl aside. "Why did Erin have to send you a message star? Why couldn't she find you with the tracker function?"

"Ha." Freja licked the pudding off her lips. "I may have been young and naïve, but I was smart enough not to trust him or his family entirely. My Kedrant sense warned me I was in a world of trouble. Before Iwon and I exchanged vows, I found a black-market technician who hacked it for me. Iwon's parents had already hacked it once; they'd turned off the contraception function. I got my hacker to turn it back on again and code it to my DNA so no one else could mess with it. Then I had her turn off the tracker function and set it so only I could enable it."

She grinned broadly. "His parents, especially his mother, used to watch me so closely when we saw them. They were checking me out, hoping for a baby bump. They must've been very disappointed."

"I'd love you even if you had another man's baby," Déak said, resting a protective hand on her knee.

"We'll never know, will we?" She loved the way his square-tipped fingers rippled in a quiet rhythm on her leg. "But I think it's time for me to give it back, to resume my life as an ordinary citizen."

"Are you sure you want to?"

"Very. I've only kept it to spite Matron. Iwon's parents moved away after he died last year, but Matron knows where they are. Whenever I run into her, which thank heavens isn't often, she nags me give it to her so she can return it to them. She claims it was a gift, for the duration of my time with Iwon. The more she's insisted that I return it, the more determined I've been to keep it. For the first time ever, I have the power in that relationship."

"I'm not asking you to give up something so valuable for my sake," he said.

"It's okay. I don't want it anymore. I didn't want it in the first place." She shrugged. "For the past year every time I've looked at it, it has reminded me of why I was in such a mess. It reminded me of why I had to get up before dawn and work until long after most people have gone to bed. I don't need that reminder anymore."

She stood and walked around the table and sat on Déak's powerful thighs. His lap made such a comforting seat. "But you just freed me from that prison." Leaning her head against his broad chest, she savored the sensation of being small and protected in his loving arms.

He drew her closer and kissed the top of her head. "At last we can start the life together that should have begun years ago." He jiggled her on his lap as he reached into his pocket for something. "Close your eyes."

Freja felt something fine and silky being wrapped lightly around her right wrist. Her small gasp said she knew what it was even with her eyes closed.

"Yes." Her voice quivered with happiness as she traced her fingers along the soft joining ribbon. "I will mate with you."
Making plans

The next day, Déak and Freja went to the main farmhouse, to announce their news.

Mr. and Mrs. Ryba were eating breakfast in a sunny kitchen that overlooked a back garden that was a riot of colorful flowers and dark green herbs. The kitchen smelled of bacon, biscuits, and strong coffee. Déak said nothing. Instead he raised Freja's wrist to show her parents the embroidered joining ribbon.

Mrs.Ryba gave a short, startled yelp of delight. Mr. Ryba stood so suddenly his chair toppled over. When Déak's Devmaerean mother stood beside her human husband, she was four inches taller. Yet their auras blended like people who'd found their soulmates.

They hugged Déak first and then Freja. Then Déak a second time.

"One day you may have a child of your own and you will learn that a parent is never happier than when their child is happy." Mrs. Ryba said, laying a hand on Freja's shoulder. "I know that Déak loved you from the day he met you, but I barely dared to hope that the two of you would ever end up together."

"Me neither," said Freja, blushing with pleasure at their warmth.

"Let's open some of the cider we put down last fall," Mrs. Ryba suggested, making a move toward the pantry.

"Sorry, dear one," Déak caught her and guided her back to the table. "You know I have to be back at work in Grenvilleton in a few days and if Freja and I are going to exchange vows before then, we've got a lot to do."

"How will you organize all that with so little time?" Mr. Ryba asked.

"I was hoping you might help us." Déak grinned. "And by help us I mean could you do everything but help us with our clothes for the day? Prepare a simple meal, invite the guests and book the celebrant for us? We'd like to have it here, in your drawing room. Freja has only two friends she wants to invite. You know my closest buddies. No more than a dozen guests, I'd say." He looked at Freja and she nodded.

"Are you up for it?" he asked, searching his parents' faces.

"If you'd asked anyone else, we would have had to disown you." Mr. Ryba clapped Déak on the back.

They said good-bye on the wide front verandah. Freja looked back as they pulled away. Mr. and Mrs. Ryba stood with arms around each other, glowing in silent contentment. Their two sheepdogs wrestled on the lawn in from of them.

With the good news delivered, Déak drove Freja around so she could tell all the people she worked for that she wouldn't be returning. Ever.

The stopped at the tech shop where the data from her CommBand was transferred to a simple CitizenBand.

The purple-haired technician said, "I don't think I've ever had anyone ask me to deactivate their CommBand before." She looked at Freja and narrowed her eyes.

Freja shrugged. "Let's just say it reminds me of someone I'd rather forget."

From there they went to the Girls Crib. Freja insisted on going in alone. A thin nervous girl showed her into Matron's office.

"How can I help you?" Matron rose, her mouth pressed into a fine line. She stood behind her desk and didn't invite Freja to sit.

"You wanted me to give this to you so you can return it to Iwon's parents?" Freja pulled the CommBand from her pocket and dangled it in front of her.

Instant greed flared in Matron's eyes as she tried to snatch it away.

"Well come and get it then," Freja quickstepped out of the office, Matron following like a dog chasing a juicy bone. Freja glanced over her shoulder.

Matron's hair had turned red with rage. Her complexion was purple as she tried to catch up with Freja.

Freja broke into a run, through the garden and out the front gate. She stopped at the storm water drain at the edge of the road. With a satisfied smile, she dropped the CommBand into the drain.

"Happy hunting," she said and climbed onto the back of Déak's hoverbike.

"You have a naughty streak," Déak said as he kicked the bike into high gear. "It's one of the things I love about you."

Freja heard Matron's roar of outrage. Looking over her shoulder she saw half a dozen girls had raced out of the main building. Matron was down on her hands and knees, pulling the grate off the top of the catch basin. She screamed commands at the girls around her.

Suddenly Freja's moment of revenge was tainted by the knowledge that some poor orphan was going to have to climb down into that pipe. Matron wasn't going to get her hands dirty. That's what the girls were for.

***

Because Freja had proven to Déak that she was a strong swimmer, he asked her to join him in monitoring and protecting the abalone beds. Their project that day was to map out the current populations. They'd use their records to track future poaching.

He took her to a sports store and bought her a mask, snorkel, fins, dive knife, and, finally, a wetsuit. He also rented an underwater camera. Then they headed to his private beach.

As they hiked in, Déak marked a trail with cairns and stakes so she could find her way in and out safely if she was alone. When they arrived on the foreshore, Freja looked at the sun-bleached log where he'd spanked her twice already. Delicious, damp warmth fanned out from her pussy at the memory.

He saw her looking at it and lightly swatted her bottom. "I can think of many ways we can have fun here," he spoke into her ear. The intimacy of his words, spiked by the smack and sweetened with lust, made her blush.

"Business first." He led her to a new spot, just beyond the grassy glen he'd used before to a rocky clearing. "From now on when we come here, this is where we'll park our stuff. No one can see us here from the water."

"From the water?"

"There's no evidence of the poachers hiking in so that means they're most likely coming in through the heads, by boat. If they see us or even just our bags on the beach, they will get away fast. This way even if we're in the water, we'll have a chance to sneak up on them before they realize they're not alone."

"Will our knives be enough to defend ourselves?" Freja looked at the water nervously.

"You're worried about the karshark or the poachers?"

"Both, I guess."

"Don't worry about the karshark. I've never seen one in the bay. The entrance through the heads is shallow and meandering. A thirty-foot karshark would have trouble threading around the corners." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight.

"And the poachers?"

"They're after easy cash so I doubt they'd risk being caught with weapons. Getting busted for poaching a vulnerable species is one thing. Being busted for carrying weapons would more than double their jail time. I don't see it happening. Besides, they have no idea we are even onto them. I'm always careful to leave no sign of human activity on this beach. I bet they think they've found a pot of gold here."

Freja leaned her body against his and relaxed. He kissed her firmly on the mouth, "Are you ready to become more of a water baby?"

With that they geared up and carried their fins to the shore. The morning passed with Freja embracing the freedom that came with her new equipment. Déak taught her how to breath-hold dive, equalize her ears on descent, and clear her snorkel when she surfaced. She loved the fins that boosted her power in the water, making her feel half fish, half human.

By the time he picked up the camera and they started surveying the reefs at the edge of the bay, Freja was more at home than ever. Déak joked the only way she could look more comfortable would be if she grew gills,

Using the five-inch blades of their knives, they measured the glossy black shells of the mollusks to see if any mature abalone had been left behind. They surveyed every reef on the beach and didn't find a single mature shellfish, although there were many immature ones.

When they stopped on the beach at the end of their work, Déak eyes blazed with anger. "Yesterday there was still a small clump of them right there." He pointed to a spot on the reef hear the shore. "Whoever is doing this is getting bolder, coming more often."

"That means they've been here today. Do you think they're coming back today?"

"Probably not. They'd have to be pretty brazen."

***

As Freja stripped off the top of her wetsuit, her necklace ripped off with it.

Déak examined it. "You were lucky," he said. "The leather thong has worn right through. You could have lost this any time."

Her face was pale when he handed it back to her. "Thank you," she said. "This is the most precious thing I own."

"Put it away for now," he said. "We'll get a better piece of jewelry made for the sea glass before we exchange vows, okay?"

She nodded and tucked it into the outside pocket on her bag before following him to the waterfall.

They stood under the clear, flowing water and rinsed each other's bodies. Soon all other thoughts had flown from Freja's mind as she watched Déak's rising lust.

"How can you do this to me?" he asked in a joking voice. "One minute ago, I wanted to rip some bastard poacher's heart out of his chest. Now all I think about is sucking on your beautiful tits."

He pulled her down into the freshwater pool and covered her mouth with his. Their teeth brushed together in their impatience to taste each other. She swooned as he sucked on her tongue.

"That's not my tits you're sucking." Her words were garbled.
Settling in

They arrived home after dark, sated, weary, and ravenously hungry. Déak sent Freja to run a bath while he cooked dinner. When he served what he called a simple meal of cheese on toast, she swore it was the most delicious food she'd ever eaten. He waved away her compliments, but his eyes lit with satisfaction that he'd pleased her.

Afterwards Freja, exhausted after so many changes in such a short time, kept falling asleep as they lay in the bath together. He dried her with a tenderness that contrasted crazily with the ferocity of his discipline and passionate lovemaking. When she woke the next morning, lying on her back, he was curled around her. He lay on his side with one hand circling her waist. His breath rose and fell in warm waves on her neck.

She looked around the simple, comfortable room and marveled at how she'd ended up there. Two days ago, she'd been a penniless widow, weighed down by debt. Now she was suddenly young again, able to think of the future as something other than a lifetime on a soul-destroying treadmill.

It had taken forever to find Déak again but, at the same time, it had all happened so quickly.

As he if sensed her lying there awake, he woke too.

When he raised himself on one elbow, she smiled up at him. His hard cock was pushing into her gently. She stroked it slowly.

He clenched his hand around her wrist and lifted it above her head. His tongue traced the curve of her lips. She arched her neck, bringing her mouth closer to his.

"No," he said. "I want you to lie back and let me satisfy you."

Freja tried not to frown. It was hard to undo the habits forged from a lifetime of looking after others. She wanted to give, not receive.

Reading her thoughts in his uncanny way, Déak said, "I love you enough to make you obey me. When I tell you to do something, you will do it. With or without a red ass. Your choice."

He flashed his brilliant smile and his eyes sent a message, a mixture of love and steely resolve. She lay back, nodding to show her compliance and he grinned. His hand roamed over her breasts, hefting them slightly, as though measuring their ripeness and weight. His thumb teased her nipples to full attention.

When he pinched one nipple, she gasped. Then he pinched the other one.

"Please suck them," she begged.

He slapped one breast gently. "Please who?"

"Please sir."

"Please sir what?" Another soft slap.

"Please sir, suck my nipples." She moaned in frustration.

"Louder." The corners of his mouth curled in a smile.

"Please sir, suck my nipples." She shouted this time.

"Being as you asked so nicely..." His head dipped and he took first one nipple and then the other in his mouth. Sucking slowly at first, he gradually added his teeth, nibbling and biting each nipple in turn.

Freja moaned with delight, never wanting him to stop. To her surprise, her hips started rolling and bucking in response.

"Don't come yet," Déak cautioned. "I'd hate to have to spank you in the middle of all this fun play."

"Not fair!" she cried.

"I never said I was." He lifted her other hand over her head. "Leave your hands there. Don't move them until I give you permission." He traced a fingertip down her nose before resting it on her lips. "Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Her voice quavered.

"Good girl," he said, delivering one more slap to her swollen breasts.

She lay, unmoving, frightened and thrilled by her total loss of power. The man was a magician: he touched her skin but reached her soul. She loved every single thing he was doing to her.

In a single sweep, Déak threw the sheets and blankets on the floor. He nudged her legs apart. Then he was between them, kissing her thighs. A second later his mouth was on her throbbing sex. His tongue lapped her clitoris with lightning strokes.

A fine sheen of perspiration broke over her body as she fought her climax.

"I'm. Going. To. Come," she panted. She lifted her hips toward his mouth.

Déak thrust his tongue inside her and the dam broke. As an orgasm rippled over her body, he sat back on his haunches. Hooking one hand behind her knees, he lifted her bum in the air and delivered three powerful smacks to each cheek.

Then he lowered her legs, separating them again, spreading them wide, before plunging his massive cock into her.

"You can drop your hands now," he growled. "I want to feel them all over me."

Freja laughed and dragged her nails down through the blanket of sweat on his back. The exquisite combination of her stinging ass, her tremoring clitoris, and the powerful prick stretching her, pushing on her g-spot, toppled her over the edge.

"You've paid for your orgasm. Come again. For me," he said.

Again? She was still in the throes of the first one.

As if she could have stopped anyway. As if she had any mind left at all. She was an animal now, his animal.

He possessed her so thoroughly in that moment, her body was no longer her own. It belonged to him, would follow his lead, give him anything he asked for.

Another orgasm broke on top of the first one. Noises escaped her, sounds of joy and contentment she'd never made before.

Déak slowed the rhythm of his pounding. "I love you like this. Free. Primal. Mine."

His words sent tremors from her head to her toes.

"I love you too," she said, tracing her fingernails down his back again.

He covered her mouth with his, kissing deeply, their tongues twisting together as he started to rev again.

This time when she orgasmed, she felt his mighty cock explode at the same time, filling her with hot seed.

When he nestled beside her again, collecting her in his arms, he whispered. "When you let me take care of you, it's good for both of us. Never forget that."

***

Afterwards they made breakfast together and ate in companionable silence as the sun rose over the fields outside the window. She enjoyed the contrasts in their shared lives. One moment he'd pin her to the bed, a raging conqueror taking what belonged to him, possessing her in a way that left no doubt that she was his and his alone.

Then, passion spent, they became two affectionate lovers, indistinguishable from all the others who walked along the seawall at Queen Vasa Park at sunset, holding hands and stealing kisses. Freja loved the hidden, dark quality to their lovemaking that contrasted so dramatically with the way he treated her so politely and kindly the rest of the time.

She wondered idly if he was thinking the same thing as he ate his last forkful of eggs.

He sipped his coffee and said, "I'm going to Grenvilleton today. I have some business to take care of, including buying some special wine for our vows." He smiled at the mention of the upcoming ceremony. "But the first thing I'm going to do is nose around the fish market and ask who's selling abalone these days. The market closes at noon so I need to leave soon. Do you want to come with me, or do you want to just have a day off? Some time to relax?"

Freja had been through Grenvilleton only once as a child, when she'd arrived terrified and lonely on the ship that brought her from Silvelea. The city held no good memories. It held nothing to entice her, not when she had this glorious cottage, a delicious cocoon, so private and quiet. A day off? Time to relax? Those were foreign concepts to her. Reflexively she reached for her necklace, a gesture she'd done a thousand times before when she had been lost in thought.

Her eyes flew open and her chair made a loud scraping sound as she pushed back from the table. "My necklace!"

She ran over to the sofa where she'd dropped her bag the night before and shook out it out. "It's not here!" she said, sifting through the jumbled contents. "I was sure I put it in my bag."

"It must have fallen out." Déak slapped his forehead. "I found it yesterday on the blanket. You were at the pool, rinsing out your gear. I tossed it over to where your bag was. I thought you'd picked it up before we left."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said, sinking back into her seat, a frown knitting her face. "Well I guess that decides it. While you're in Grenvilleton I'll have to go back to the beach and find my necklace."

His eyes darkened and he looked at her over the tips of his index fingers that he pressed to his lips. After the longest time, he answered. "Not a good idea."

"Why not? Grenvilleton and the beach are in opposite directions and it takes a good two hours round trip to go to the beach. So, if you want to get to the fish market early, I need to go to the beach myself."

"Wait for me to come back from Grenvilleton, please."

"Why?" She crossed her arms over her chest, reacting to his authoritative tone. He couldn't seriously be telling her not to go to the beach alone. Being on a beach alone was one of her favorite things.

"For one thing, you have a lousy sense of direction." He sipped his coffee. "You said so yourself."

"The trail is marked now," she said, sitting a little straighter, forcing herself to lower her arms to a less confrontational posture.

"I'd prefer you waited until I got back." It was an order, not some casual statement of his preferences.

"And I want to go today before someone else finds it."

"No one else goes to that beach except poachers. I don't want you there without me."

She gave a snort of laughter. No one had protected her, ever. "Do you think I need you to keep me safe?"

"I do. End of discussion."

She studied him, looking for the telltale quirk of his lips that would say he was kidding. Nothing. Huh? Maybe he was playing a subtle joke. She decided to wait for the punch line. When he said nothing more, she bit into a slice of cinnamon toast and closed her eyes as the buttery topping melted in her mouth.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Who do you think protected me the rest of my life?"

He shrugged. "I'm not interested in your past. Only in your future with me and how it's going to be between us, how well you're going to follow my rules."

"Your rules?" She spoke with her mouth full. He was carrying the joke a bit far.

"My rules." He said it as simply as he might have said water flows downhill or that there were two moons in the sky. Irrefutable facts.

She chewed slowly, thinking about this rules aspect of their relationship. It had been easy to obey him when he was telling her to do things she basically agreed with. Clothes off, Over my knee. Run the bath. Sure thing, boss.

But now he was attempting to restrict her autonomy.

She decided to persuade him with logic. She put the toast down and reached across the table. He covered her hand with his and her body temperature rose from his simple touch.

"I need you because I love you." She raised his large hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. "I don't want to love you because I need you. I've had an entire year of being on my own. The idea of you laying down rules for me is...um...something I have to get used to."

He studied her for a minute, and she sensed he was deciding whether or not to escalate their disagreement to a fight. He didn't.

"I'd go with you today but I can't." He turned her hand upward and traced a circle in her palm. The touch was surprisingly sensual, and she squirmed at how good it felt.

"So this is the rule." He held her eyes with his. "You may take the bicycle from the lean-to and go to the beach without me. You may collect the necklace. I'm sure it will still be there. Then you will come straight back. No swimming. No dawdling. No side trips. Is that clear?"

"Yes, whatever you say." That was more of a restriction than she wanted but at least it was a rule she could possibly obey. She pulled her hand away with a delicious but slightly annoyed shiver.

"So far, I've treated you to erotic spankings only. If you disobey me, you will find that spankings for disobedience are another matter entirely. Do you understand?"

"I do." Her pussy squeezed tight at power in his voice. It was exactly what she wanted to hear but at the same time, a part of her resented him making decisions for her. At the sight of the fiery determination in his eyes, his clear intention to possess and dominate her, her nipples hardened.

"Good girl," he said, standing and stretching. "I'm heading out now."

When she had to crane her neck to look up at him, the feeling of being very small overwhelmed her again. She loved the difference in their sizes and, for a fleeting second, she imagined him angry. Angry at her.

Ha, she thought, it might be fun if he wanted to see what that was like.
With him and without him

When Déak flicked the switch on his hoverbike and disappeared down the lane, Freja felt a sudden stab of loneliness. She wondered how she could miss him so much when they'd been together for such a short time.

For most of her life, she'd lived without him, capable and independent. The intense longing that consumed her now threatened her strength and self-sufficiency. She reminded herself to stay independent, emotionally and physically.

To soothe the yawning ache in her chest, she packed up her snorkeling gear and headed to the beach. She loved snorkeling and couldn't believe it had taken her this long to discover its magic. Sure, he'd said not to linger, but a short tour of the reef to check the abalone beds would only take minutes.

When she stepped out of the forest onto the beach, the water was like glass. There wasn't another soul around. She promised herself she wouldn't stay in the water long, just long enough to establish her right to do what she wanted, when she wanted.

She went to the place they'd hidden their beach camp the day before and looked around the spot where she'd left her bag. There, between two small rocks, she found the frayed thong with the two pieces of sea glass in their crudely fashioned cage. She stowed it in a zippered pocket and quickly changed to her wetsuit.

A few minutes later she was on the north side of the bay, bobbing over the reef, thrilled by the fabulous colors of the anemones, urchins, and starfish. Nestled around them were thin banks of immature abalone.

She wondered if Déak would check up on her but figured that was unlikely. He was on another mission, so she'd do what she needed to.

Besides there were so many little coves and recesses around the bay, even if he came looking for her, he might not see her. So she glided around the rocks, marveling at the displays below, enjoying the ocean in a new and wonderful way. The water was so clear that she could easily see thirty to forty feet in each direction.

When a family of otters emerged from a hidden spot in the reef, she pulled herself onto a nearby rock to watch their antics. They were small creatures that screeched at each other in shrill voices as they chased up and down the boulders, to the shore, and then back again.

The simple pleasure of having the time to enjoy the spectacle lulled Freja into a false sense of security.

Suddenly the hair on her neck prickled and she looked around, wide eyed. On the far side of the bay, where the heads led to the open sea, a flock of seagulls were circling and diving. She wanted to believe there was a school of fish beneath the surface, but her Kedrant sense said that was wrong. There was danger lurking where the gulls were wheeling over the biggest bed of immature abalone.

That single clue told her that someone was prying the abalone off the rocks. The birds were scavenging the crumbs of flesh that were being loosened in the process. She studied the spot where the gulls where diving. Regular clouds of bubbles were rising to the surface. Whoever was taking the abalone was on scuba gear, not simply breath hold diving.

Hanging close to the rocks and staying in the shadows as best she could, she made her way slowly to the telltale signs of rising bubbles. She was thirty feet away when she finally made out a dark shadow moving along the reef. In one hand the diver held a mesh bag. The other hand held a large diver's knife that was being used to slash at the shellfish which were being tipped into the collecting bag. The technique was crude, breaking some of the shells and destroying some of the urchins around it. Schools of fish were swarming around the diver, enjoying the easy meal.

Freja hung back, deciding on her strategy. She realized the fish were thickest around the heads, as if all the action was bringing them in from the open sea. That was the angle of attack, where the schools of fish obscured the diver's vision.

She jetted through the water with graceful, undulating movements as though she was another sea creature.

Surfacing for one last gulp of air, she drew her dive knife from its sheath. Then she plunged down on the diver's left side, grabbed the air line on the scuba tank, and cut it open. With the next move, she cut the diver's weight belt.

The diver sucked in some water and jerked in shock. Before she could figure out what was happening, Freja grabbed her right hand and ripped the knife from it. She dropped both knives so neither of them was armed.

The diver tried to wrench her hand away but Freja held on. When Freja saw who was behind the full-face mask, her head spun with shock and she let go of the woman's wrist. The bayonet stare that glared back at her belonged to Matron Cass Warren. When Matron recognized Freja she screamed with rage. Her tank was dragging her down, so she released the buckle and ditched it. Unencumbered, she lurched toward Freja.

Freja had anticipated her move and easily dodged it. Seconds later the buoyancy of their wetsuits floated them to the surface.

Matron flashed a rude sign at Freja and, clinging to her collecting bag, she started swimming toward the entrance of the heads.

"Stop!" Freja yelled. "Poacher!"

Matron said nothing, just lowered her face into the water, cleared her snorkel, and headed toward the entrance. Freja realized she must have a boat or some other means of transportation there. If she escaped, Freja would have no way to prove that she'd been there at all or that she was the one plundering the abalone beds.

She wrenched one of Matron's fins off and lobbed it across the bay. Immediately Matron's pace slowed. Freja saw her chance and grabbed the other fin. That slowed Matron to a crawl.

Freja had never been through the entrance herself, so she let Matron lead the way, moving slowly without the power of her fins. As they reached the edge of one small cove, Matron swam to the rocks and found a rope that had been draped along the rocks to aid her access to the bay. She used it to pull herself along the rocks without getting dragged into the roiling waves that churned between the two walls of the heads.

For the first time Freja understood why the entrance to the bay was hard to find. The walls of the two ridges overlapped, with a slight gap between them. It would have looked like a continuous wall of rock from a distance. Then the passage was as narrow as a few feet in some places and up to five feet wide in others. Between the two ridge walls, outcrops of rock jutted into the water, narrowing the passage even more. The water boiled and swirled in this confined channel.

At the very front of the pass Freja saw a small boat moored to an ancient anchor ring in the rock. Matron was pulling herself in that direction, using the rope to prevent herself from being caught up in the eddies and whirlpools that hissed and bubbled around her.

Freja followed, determined that Matron was not going to get away. She wished she hadn't dropped her knife.

They reached the boat at the same time but Matron, without the power of her fins to kick and raise herself over the side of the boat, floundered. She scraped at the side of the barnacle-covered rocks trying to climb up and lower herself down into the boat.

Freja used the power of her fins to give a fierce kick. That and her ropey arms, strengthened by years of manual work, easily lifted her into the rocking dinghy. She sat, her chest heaving with effort and adrenalin and waited for Matron. The warning prickle in her neck bristled harder so she didn't take her eyes off her struggling opponent.

Matron flopped into the boat awkwardly but righted herself quickly, tearing off her mask. Letting loose a string of profanity, she swung her mesh bag at Freja's head. Freja ducked it easily and it wrapped around and smacked Matron in the face. One of the cracked abalone shells split through the bag and slicing a deep gash above her eye. Blood started to pour down Matron's face.

"You bitch," Matron said, lunging at Freja, her hands wide, ready to strangle her. At the same time Matron attacked, a massive wave washed back from the narrows of the opening and swept over the small boat. The sudden shift in Matron's weight along with the force of the wave overbalanced the dinghy. Both women were plunged into the water.

Freja, who still had her mask and fins on, moved easily, watching Matron's collecting bag drift down to the sea floor. Matron swam after it, a trail of blood pouring from her face.

With the warning instinct prickling her neck with new intensity, Freja braced herself. Matron wasn't the threat. Freja tumbled backwards, thrown by the turbulence of a huge half-purple, half grey monster, with an iridescent purple fin.

All that registered as the karshark flashed by was a pair of lifeless eyes and a vast gaping mouth, lined with three zigzag rows of razor-sharp teeth, gleaming white daggers. She didn't wait to see what happened next, just raced as fast as she could through the seething water to the channel entrance. As she drew on her last reserve of energy, boosted by a surge of adrenaline, she heard a garbled scream travel through the water.

When she reached the old anchor point in the rock, she pulled herself out of the water and looked back over the sea. Little of the turmoil under the waves showed on the surface but Freja shook with horror as she imagined the carnage below.

Eventually a blood-drenched dive boot floated to the surface.
Consequences

Even though her common sense told her Matron was never coming back, Freja sat on the edge of the rock and waited for the longest time. She tried to forget the terrifying sight of the karshark's massive mouth stretched open, as the deadly feeding machine charged toward Matron.

After what seemed like an eternity, a purple fin broke the surface of the water, at least fifty feet from where she sat. She watched the monster's progress, away from the entrance to the bay, away from her. When she was certain it was no longer a threat, she used the rope system to haul herself back to the bay. It was almost impossible to believe that this small sanctuary was part of the same great sea on other side of the ridge.

She stopped at the place where she'd found Matron plundering the abalone beds and, after a series of breath hold dives, retrieved the two knives and the weight belt. She hauled the gear to shore, left the weight belt behind, and prepared for the long bike ride back to Foxglen.

***

When Déak arrived home late in the afternoon he found Freja sitting on the sofa, reading a book. The appetizing aroma of a pot roast filled the cottage. So this was what matehood was like he thought. A loving woman waiting for him at the end of a long day with a meal she'd prepared just for the two of them.

He saw the worn thong on the dining table with its two pieces of red sea glass. As he'd been driving to Grenvilleton, he'd had an inspiration as to how those two treasures could be turned into something quite wonderful and, at the same time, quite dreadful. He couldn't wait to surprise Freja on the day of their vows.

She laid down her book and stood to greet him with a kiss that almost made him come on the spot.

"Wow," he said when she finally broke away. "You know how to welcome a man home, don't you?"

"Not any man." She grinned and encouraged him to sit in the big easy chair. Pulling up the wide ottoman, she removed his shoes and socks and started to rub his feet. "Did you have a successful trip?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the soothing massage, convinced that he'd found a small slice of heaven with this beautiful woman. Turning his thoughts back to the business in Grenvilleton, he said, "It was productive. Admiral Kai not only sends you his good wishes for our joining ceremony but welcomes you to his estate, Lockriddle Manor and hopes you will feel at home there. The majordomo Xane is preparing joined-staff quarters for us."

Freja glanced up from her ministrations with a nervous smile. "I've been so swept away by everything that has happened the past few days, I didn't think that far ahead."

"That's why I'm head of our household."

He saw the struggle in her face as she resisted a sarcastic response and thought, good. She's learning.

She started working on his other foot. "What about the fish market?"

There was a slight change in her tone of voice that alerted him to something, but he ignored it because this was the news he was most looking forward to sharing.

"That was the most interesting part of the entire day." He smiled. "The poacher is a she, not a he."

"Really?"

Freja didn't sound as surprised as Déak expected her to be. In fact, her expression said she already knew this.

"One of the fishwives there recognized her from the Girls Crib. Any guesses who has been selling rare black abalone?"

Freja bent her head as she massaged around his ankle and up the back of his calves. She let her corkscrew curls fall in front of her face and shrugged but he heard her swallow hard.

"Any hunches?"

"Not really." She bowed her head lower.

"Look at me, My Innocent." You're not so innocent now are you, he thought.

She glanced at him quickly and looked away almost as fast. Her chin was quivering.

"Come. Sit on my knee. I want to hear about your day." He patted his lap but the warmth in his voice had cooled.

She tried to continue the massage, but he lifted his legs away and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"Sit on my lap. Now." He opened his arms.

She lowered herself, nestling into the embrace more nervously than she ever had before.

"Tell me everything you did after I left this morning." He brushed the hair away from her face, back over her shoulders.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "I went to the beach to find my necklace."

"I see you found it."

"I did."

"And then you came right home?"

"I went swimming." A whisper.

"Only swimming?"

"Okay snorkeling too."

"So you took all your gear with you? You were intending to disobey me even before you got to the beach."

She swallowed hard again but said nothing.

"You could have just asked for a serious paddling. It might have been simpler." He lifted her chin, but her eyes darted away from his face. "Or was that what you wanted when you took your gear with you?"

"I don't like being told what to do," she said through clenched teeth.

"Most people don't. And I don't insist you obey anyone's rules. But you will obey mine. Or suffer the consequences." He fisted his hands in her hair and held so she had to look at him. "Was the snorkeling good? How were the abalone beds?"

With that, Freja burst into tears.

His eyes widened and he freed her hair, drawing her close to his chest. "It's okay, My Innocent, you're safe now. Tell me what happened."

She hyperventilated a couple of times before she could face the memories of the morning. Until that moment, she'd built a wall around the events of the day. She'd repressed the fury at seeing someone plundering the abalone beds and buried the terror of seeing Matron ripped apart by the karshark. Déak's gentle voice opened the vault of those memories.

Only she knew she couldn't lie to him; she couldn't deny him the truth. He saw into her soul and would know if she held back a single detail. So she began.

He listened calmly stroking her hair and holding her close.

At the end of the story she offered the defense she'd planned before she even got on the bike. "I only intended to do a quick tour of the bay to prove that I could make my own decisions, be my own boss. I didn't mean to get involved or chase Matron to her death."

One loud sob shook her body.

"Shhh," He said. "Matron gambled and lost. The smell of abalone alone is enough to attract a karshark from a mile away. We're not going to mourn the loss, however grisly, of a thief." He kissed the top of Freja's head. "But..." He drummed the fingers of one hand on her arm. "...the fact that you took your snorkeling gear tells me you intended to defy me almost as quickly as I set the rule. That is intolerable. The fact that you confronted a poacher, alone and unarmed, tells me you made a very bad decision. You could just as easily have ended up as a shark snack."

She shivered and her voice came out in squeak. "Are you going to spank me?"

"Do you deserve to be spanked?"

"I do."

"I'm glad you realize that, but you can relax for now. You need to recover from the traumatic events of this morning, and we are exchanging vows in a few days. I want you calm and happy for that most important date."

She sighed at his reassuring tone of voice.

He slid her off his lap. "For the next few days, I will shower you with all the love and attention a well-behaved mate gets. But, once our vows have been sworn and you are mine, you will find out what happens when you are silly enough to disobey me. I promise you a lesson you will not forget."
Vows and other promises

Before dinner, Déak took Freja to the courthouse where she made an incident report about the karshark attack. The constable on duty said they'd received a message from a fisherman who had sighted a large karshark in the local area that morning. It appeared to be heading south.

The constable said they'd put out an alert but the last time a karshark had taken a local diver, all they'd found was the snorkel. He'd go to the Girls Crib personally and make sure Matron's assistant was alerted to her possible demise.

The very next morning a severed arm washed up on the beach near the Sentry Station. The CitizenBand still attached identified it as belonging to Cassandra Olaug Warren. She died without a will, so the public executor went to the Girls Crib to survey her estate. It turned out that Matron was a hoarder, a hoarder of wealth. She was easily the richest person in Foxglen and beyond.

When she died, she had two stolen library books in her possession. The executor, Déak's biggest fan, gave him both books in exchange for a donation to the library which far exceeded their value.

One of them had ancient charts of the area, which showed Déak's bay. The other one was a guide to shellfish on the continent of Senne. The pages about black abalone and the rare blue pearls were dogeared from frequent thumbing. Grateful to have them out of circulation, Déak locked them in his safe at home.

***

With the unpleasantness of reporting the attack behind them, they began their daily ritual of returning to Déak's beach to monitor the abalone beds. They found no further evidence of poaching and Déak was confident that the abalone beds would recover in a year or two.

With that, they headed back to town. When Freja stopped to buy a new bathing suit, she was astonished at the credit balance that her CitizenBand showed. She thought long and hard about what she wanted to with that money.

The next day, on their way back from the beach, she declared. "I want to go shopping. My days of wearing other people's castoffs are over." The ability to say that left her slightly giddy.

"Good. That's exactly what I want you to do. I gave you that money so you'd have some autonomy, be able to make your own decisions," Déak said, slowing the hoverbike as they approached the outside of town. "I have to warn you about one thing. The population of Grenvilleton is primarily Devmaerean and human, which means you may attract some curious glances. Maybe even some prejudice."

"More prejudice than being a Crib girl? A charity chit?" Her voice was light. She could laugh at these things now.

"Probably not," he conceded. "But you may want to buy a scarf or two to cover your magnificent tiger-striped hair so you can enjoy some anonymity when you go to the city."

"Sounds like a good idea." She hugged him tighter as they neared the main shopping area. She didn't care what people thought of her but understood that Déak was trying to protect her. She loved that about him.

"Do you have the sea glass?" she asked.

"I do and I'm taking it to the jeweler now."

He pulled into a parking spot.

As she got off the bike, she asked, "What is the jeweler going to do with the sea glass?"

Déak grinned. "You have to wait and find out." He kissed her and drove off.

***

After lunch together, she and Erin shopped for hours. Freja's thrifty habits made her a discerning customer who looked at every item several times to be sure she would get good use out of it. In the end she decided on eight basic pieces that mixed and matched to give her sixteen different outfits. Then she and Erin addressed the most fun part of the day: choosing a dress for the vows ceremony. The moment she slipped on the knee-length red dress with its lace overtop, Freja knew she wanted it. It fit her perfectly and was the color of love. To go with it, she bought lacy red lingerie and a pair of stiletto pumps that she was going to have to practice walking in before the big event.

Over the next few days they visited so many of Déak's relations, Freja quickly lost count of who she'd met on what day. She flushed with pride when his aunt told her she'd never seen Déak happier.

Frequently she forgot the stay of execution that the ceremony had given her. She allowed the promise of imminent punishment to fade from her consciousness.

As though he sensed her selective memory at those times, Déak had a way of walking up behind her and squeezing her bottom. "I can't wait to own this ass," he'd whisper. "I'm going to make you howl."

She'd blow out her breath at those threatening but affectionate words. He'd laugh as he walked away, his hand sliding over her breast, often pinching a nipple until it stood hard and proud.

The night before they exchanged vows, he set her dinner plate and beside him, not across from him.

"Keep your hands in your lap," he said. "This is the start of my control over you and of your complete obedience to me." He took a forkful of roasted patcher and held it to her lips. "You will eat what I feed you tonight and tomorrow morning. And only what I feed you."

Freja blinked rapidly. This wasn't the sort of punishment she'd expected. She'd been bracing all week for something physically hurtful and confronting but this subtle control over food was far more alarming than a mere spanking. This type of control was primal and terrifying it its implications.

So she sat and tried to be patient as he ate, occasionally stopping to feed her. Sometimes he fed her with his hand, making her suck his fingers clean.

"I'm going to enjoy having my cock in this lovely mouth," he said as he thrust his thumb in deeper. "I won't know whether to let you suck me off or to fuck you until you scream."

She murmured something and he withdrew his thumb, rubbing it over her closed lips. "No. Don't speak," he said. "You don't have permission for that."

She stifled the words crowding into her head, wondering what horrors were in store for her and how many of them she would enjoy.

***

On the morning of their vows ceremony, Déak handed Freja a small silk bag while she was still in bed.

"Open it," he said so she shook the contents onto her hand.

"They're beautiful," she breathed, admiring the drop earrings, made with the pieces of red sea glass he'd given her the day they first met. "I love them."

He took one and held it against her face. "By tonight, your ass is going to be as red as these stones. I hope you will still love them then."

At breakfast he insisted on feeding her again just as he'd promised. She suppressed a stab of defiance as she dutifully sat beside him, opening her mouth when the spoon approached her lips. She dreaded how much more controlling he might become but she wasn't seriously worried. This was part of the process, she understood. This was him telling her what their roles would be.

He left her alone in the house after breakfast when Erin and Mrs. Ryba arrived to help her dress and do her hair. They exclaimed over the beauty of the earrings and how perfectly they matched her dress. She blushed in a maidenly way, recalling Déak's words about the color of them. She'd never worn earrings before so Mrs. Ryba helped her screw them onto her ear lobes, showing her where to attach them so they wouldn't hurt.

At midday a dozen friends, along with the mayor of Foxglen who would preside, assembled in the Rybas' drawing room. Most of the furniture had been pushed out of the way and the floor gleamed, ready for dancing.

Petals of spring flowers lined the hallway that Freja followed to the room where Déak waited. Her hours of practice paid off and she didn't stumble in the four-inch heels.

Holding her head high, she was gripped by a sense of disbelief that this was happening to her. When she saw Déak, standing proud in a well-cut grey suit with a red tie that matched her dress, it was as though her entire life had been leading to this moment. She smiled. There was no other day, no other life, before today.

The mayor, an ancient Devmaerean man with a shock of white hair that fanned around his face like a lion's mane, officiated. He took the rings they'd bought that week and read the blessing.

"Déak and Freja welcome you to this ceremony today and thank you for celebrating with them on this first step in a life which binds them to each other for the next four years." He paused and, using the ribbon that Déak had given Freja just a few days before, he tied Déak's right wrist to Freja's left. "This joining ribbon signifies their commitment to each other. The transient nature of the fine fabric signifies that nothing in life is permanent. With heaven's grace they may find a shared life so satisfying they renew their vows again in four years. But if life renders this union asunder, so let it be. Let no one be bound to another against their will into eternity."

With that he motioned to Déak to recite his pledge. Déak turned to Freja and held up their joined hands. "Freja I hereby claim you as my mate. For this day forward, for the duration of our mateship, caring for you, for your happiness and well-being, will be my most important life duty. As you give yourself to me in submission and obedience, I promise to honor your gifts and protect your best interests, with all that I have, all that I am, and all that I can be."

Then he drew her close in a crushing hug and kissed her so long and hard, she lost track of where they were for a minute. A few titters of laughter brought her back to the room. When he released her, the guests applauded wildly.

The mayor handed Déak a ring and he slipped it on Freja's finger before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it.

Freja smiled nervously but Déak nodded slightly, giving her the courage to say her vow. "Déak, I hereby accept you as my mate and as head of our household. From this day forward, for the duration of our mateship, caring for you, for your happiness and well-being, will be my most important life duty. As I accept your leadership and authority, I promise to submit to you with all that I have, all that I am, and all that I can be." She grinned up at him. "And without too much argument," she added.

He laughed loudly as did everyone else and her chest heaved with relief. She'd only decided to add that last line as she walked into the room. She didn't want Déak to expect life with her to be uninteresting.

She slipped his ring on his finger and this time when they kissed it was a quick buss, smiling lips pressed against smiling lips, not a public show.

The mayor cleared his throat before speaking again. "Now your lives are intertwined for the next four years. Go forward from this day with open hearts. Look only for the good in each other."

He then thanked the guests for attending, reminding them it was a serious matter to witness this special occasion and that everyone there was charged with helping the newly joined couple find happiness together.

Lunch was served in the dining room, followed by an afternoon of dancing. As the shadows started to stretch across the lawn, Déak called for silence. "Thank you everyone for being part of the happiest day of my life." He held up his and Freja's still-joined hands. "As you know, the new Mrs. Ryba and I are leaving for Grenvilleton tomorrow morning. I think it's time we retreated for some private celebrations of our own."

He bent as though kissing her ear but whispered so softly only she could hear, "It's time for you to atone for your sins earlier this week. I hope your sweet ass is ready."

As he straightened, he saw the guests' amused expressions. Beside him Freja's face had turned beet red while her smile radiated happy anticipation.
Room of her own

As Déak drove the rented hovercar back to the cottage he hummed softly to himself. Freja sat, her eyes bright and posture erect. Her body was electric, giving off sparks of eager nervousness that only he could read.

He parked outside the cottage and kissed her cheek. "Stay where you are, My Innocent. I'll be back in a second."

She murmured her assent and folded her hands in her lap as though prepared to wait as long as it took. Her easy submission to his command made his cock stir. She would be so much more obedient after the evening ahead.

Inside the bedroom, he reached behind the padded headboard of the bed and flipped a few catches. His careful workmanship paid off. The headboard lifted away, exposing two iron rings fixed into wall behind it. Next he opened a hidden drawer at the bottom of the dresser and took out a pair of leather handcuffs that were lined with sheepskin to minimize damage to his love's wrists.

Laying the cuffs on top of the dresser, he looked at the implements he'd bought and stored there the day Freja went shopping with Erin. The collection included: a polished wooden paddle, a thick spurtle that would need to be wielded with great care, a cock gag, a hairbrush, a leather riding crop, and miscellaneous lengths of rope that could be used ad hoc. A beginner-sized butt plug lined up beside a tube of lubricant. The last item in the drawer went into his pocket.

In the sitting room, he cleared the furniture so the ottoman could be positioned in the middle of the empty space. He didn't have a spanking bench, but this would do.

While working as a chef catering parties for the rich and famous, he'd heard many conversations when guests' tongues were loosened by drink. These were the people who had experienced the marvels of Teardrop Lighthouse and enjoyed whispering about some of their more memorable times.

Déak had stored their tales for future reference. Now that he could draw on them, he hoped Freja would appreciate his improvised efforts. As a last touch, he took out an oil burner and set it on the dining table. He filled it with an extract of wildflowers that he'd had mixed especially for the occasion. It was same scent that perfumed the beach the day they met. After lighting the candle that would diffuse the perfume into the room, he went to fetch his waiting mate.

He opened the car door and offered her his hand. She placed her slender fingers in his palm, accepting his offer with appropriate compliance. He bit back his smile. It was never too late to be submissive, but she still had a heavy debt to settle.

Her high heels raised her face closer to his, but she still barely reached his shoulder. Her eyes searched his as though hoping he would tell her what lay ahead. No chance.

"Turn around," he said.

When she stood with her back to him, he drew a blindfold from his pocket and fastened it gently over her eyes. "Can you see anything?"

"No." The word was almost swept away by the gentle evening breeze. She cleared her throat. "Not a thing, sir."

"You caught yourself in time. Good girl." He wrapped his arms around her, muzzling her neck, inhaling her sweet scent of wild roses. "Do you remember what I said was coming once we'd exchanged vows?"

He moved in front of her, watching for her reaction. A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her upper lip.

"Yes sir."

"Tell me."

"You said you'd give me a lesson I'd never forget, sir."

"What is the lesson about?"

"Obedience, sir. About obeying you."

"Correct. Do you deserve to be punished for your recklessness this week?"

She hung her head. "Yes sir."

"Good. Take my arm."

She shuffled beside him with a wobbly gait. It was as though her ability to walk in heels disappeared with her sight. When they stepped inside, she sniffed the air and smiled at the scent that had started to infuse the room.

"I'm going to undress you now," he said and peeled her hand from his arm.

When he slid her dress over her head, he gasped appreciatively at the transparent lacy lingerie she wore underneath. The bra closed at the front. The panties tied at the side for easy release. His cock stiffened when he looked at her mound. It was hairless.

He didn't want her nude just yet, so he slid his hand into the panties and pushed her nether lips apart with his finger, reaching for her bud.

"Good girl," he said. "Did you do this yourself?"

"Erin helped me, sir. I hope it pleases you."

"It does. But it doesn't get you out of your punishment." He removed his hand and put it to her lips for her kiss.

"May I take off my shoes please, sir?"

He smacked her butt. "No. I will tell you clearly what I want when I want it. Stay here."

He left her standing, blind as a newborn kitten, while he went to the bedroom and fetched the gag. She tilted her head as he came back into the room.

"Say ah." He smiled with approval when she opened her mouth without resistance. He slid a small cock-shaped gag in and draped the necklace it was attached to around her neck. "This is not a true gag. As you see, you can spit it out whenever you want to. By keeping it in your mouth, you are showing me your obedience."

Lust thickening his voice, he said, "Let's get you off your feet." He led her to the large ottoman and helped her drape herself over it. He had laid several thick pillows on top of it to raise her bottom high.

"Ah good. Your hands reach the floor. Put them there and keep them there."

He positioned her legs so they reached long and straight behind her, her ankles flexed, toes touching the ground, and stilettos pointing into the air. As she settled into the position, she made a sucking noise on the gag and his cock stiffened harder.

Standing back to admire the beauty of her stretched across the ottoman and waiting for him, he rubbed the erection that strained his trousers. Maybe he'd been too good in his preparations. He wanted to fuck her then and there.

***

When Déak left her sitting in the car, Freja flushed with excitement. She'd never respected authority and wondered if it wasn't too late for her to learn to do that now. All she could do was try. It had been a wonderful and dreadful week knowing this was coming, being constantly reminded that it lay ahead.

She didn't need his help getting out of the car, but she knew enough to accept his hand graciously. She loved standing beside him in high heels. It raised her head almost to his shoulder, made her feel less powerless beside him. But damn, her feet hurt after so many hours in that painful footwear.

When she asked if she could take them off and he answered with a fast swat to her bottom, she knew they'd entered a new zone. Maybe he'd changed places with someone else. Sure, it sounded like his voice when he spoke but there was a new, cold tone to it. The hairs on her arm stood up as she walked in baby steps toward her fate. The wildflower fragrance calmed her slightly in her sightless world.

She'd barely taken position on the ottoman when the first smack fell on her raised buttocks. Stifling a gasp of shock, she realized she'd been expecting a lecture first. Another recital of those awful words: submission and obedience. But he said nothing.

The spanking continued with no word spoken, just a series of rapid strokes in increasing strength. As her cheeks warmed, she moaned softly into the gag, harboring a childish hope that he might stop if she whimpered piteously enough. He didn't.

The smacks fell harder and her entire body jerked with them now. When she curled her feet backwards and kicked her legs, he finally stopped.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to break that position," he said, untying the bows on the side of her panties. Are you disobeying me again?"

He wedged his hand between her thighs, pushing them apart. His fingers stroked the outside of her pussy. To her horror, she realized her pussy had betrayed her, swelling and flooding with the spanking.

"I like a good, responsive girl," he said, placing his hands under her arms and helping her up. "Now I guess it's time for your punishment to start."

Freja mewled. She'd just been spanked! Hadn't it started already? Her panties slid off as he steadied her on her feet.

"You need to contemplate your future obedience. Corner time will be the perfect opportunity to do that."

He folded her hand over his arm and guided her into the bedroom. Sightless, she felt more vulnerable than she had in her entire life. He was her lifeline and that both comforted and terrified her.

He stopped walking and put her hands in front of her. She traced the smoothness of the walls and her fingers found where they met in the corner.

"As you stand here, you are to think about why you went to the beach with your snorkeling gear even though I told you not to." He brought her hands behind her back and tucked them against her waist.

She stood statue-still, her ears straining to interpret the sounds in the room behind her. Then something slender tapped the inside of her legs, flicking from one side to the other.

"Open for me," Déak said, there was warmth in his voice. Lusty warmth. This was more like it.

The thin leather object traced up one leg and down the other. When it stopped at her cleft, it moved back and forth, easing her nether lips opens. Then it teased her bud.

"This is a riding crop." His breath was warm on her neck as he leaned in close. "It can bring you pleasure or pain. How it is used will depend on your behavior."

He moved it higher, slicing her in half. "Ride the riding crop. That's a good punishment for a naughty girl, don't you think?"

She shivered and her sore feet were forgotten.

After an eternity, the crop crept down the inside of her thighs. Wet now, it tapped back and forth between her legs like a pendulum.

He touched her hands, opening them to place an object in them.

"I bought you a new hairbrush," he said. "I'd like you to hold it and anticipate how it's going to feel on your bottom. You are going to feel this brush a lot. It's round like your lovely backside and strong wood to save my hand when you need sound correction. It will live on our dresser as a permanent reminder for you to behave."

She clutched the wooden handle tightly, feeling him move away. Any sense she had that this was going to be fun was quickly disappearing. Behind her, his footfalls were quiet but distinct on the soft carpet.

Her heart smashed against her ribcage. Her pulse pounded in her ears. This is how trapped things die, she thought. Their own fear destroys them.

He was behind her again. His hands on her ears, removing her earrings. His touch was so gentle, it soothed her terror. Then he turned her to face into the room.

"Were the earrings comfortable?" he asked. He was in front of her now.

She nodded.

"Hang onto that hairbrush, we're going to need it in a minute." He eased her hands in front of her and slid off her bra.

He began licking and nibbling on her nipples and she thought she might faint with delight. She could manage this sort of punishment for hours. He stopped and his fingers took over from his mouth. He pinched and squeezed her nipples until they were as rock hard. Both hands moved to one breast. Now her nipple was caught in something, something that pinched like his fingers but didn't let go. Then the other nipple got the same treatment.

He reached behind her head and undid the blindfold. She blinked in the soft light of the bedroom. Déak's hair was black with lust. His complexion had darkened to midnight blue. He was staring at her breasts. She looked down to see her beautiful sea glass earrings hanging proudly from her erect nipples.

He smiled at her, lifting the drop earrings and letting them fall. They tugged on her breasts, dragging a small exclamation from around her gag.

"They won't be on for long," Déak said. "And the best part is when they come off and the blood rushes back to the nipples. In the meantime, give me the hairbrush. You may take off your shoes and assume the position."

He sat on the bed and patted his lap. For half a second Freja thought of sitting on his knee but knew that wasn't what he meant. At this point, she wasn't ready to tempt fate with obvious disobedience.

As she lay across his knee, her breasts shifted forward and the earrings tugged them even lower. Bracing herself, she waited but Déak was taking his time again, drawing circles on each buttock as he liked to do.

"Do you deserve this spanking?" he asked as if she hadn't already answered that stupid question.

The earrings and gag helped her overcome her urge to say no, to say stop right now. She could do this, she'd survive this thrilling ride to see how she felt on the other side. All the women she'd seen leave the lighthouse looked at peace, as though they'd fallen from a great height and got up and walked away. Walked away smiling.

"Yesmmm," she muttered through the gag.

When the first stroke of the hairbrush fell, Freja wasn't ready. She gulped hard. Tears sprang to her eyes. This was terrible. Much worse that she expected.

I can take this, she told herself.

Another smack followed. Then she lost count. The spanking seemed to last forever but when Déak helped her to a sitting position on his lap. he said, "That's five minutes."

He flicked the earrings. "These babies have been on long enough." As he unscrewed the first one, he said, "And now the reward. When I remove them, blood will flood the nipple and you'll be super sensitive. Let's see if my theory is right."

He untwisted the first earring and when it came off, Freja sagged with relief that the pain had stopped. Then he covered the nipple with his mouth and sucked on it, taking her to the edge of orgasm.

"How about this one?" He smiled, his eyes fixed on her face as he removed the second earring. This time she couldn't hold back. Her nipples had always been her most sensitive body part. As he sucked her, his fingers crept between her legs.

She pushed her body into him, her hips lifting to drive his fingers deeper. The gag fell out of her mouth and her climax shook her from head to foot.

Déak pulled her close. "That's it, My Innocent. Come for me. Give me the gift of your orgasm."

He picked her up and put her beside him. Then he stood and tore off his own clothes. "Sometimes it's hard to follow a plan." He laughed, pointing to his erect rod. "Look what seeing you get off has done to me."

She remained seated and drew him to her. The bed was so high his cock was right at the level of her mouth. It was her turn to push his legs apart. She kissed and licked the inside of his thighs, enjoying the musty masculine smell of him, before working her way up to his cock. She'd barely started to suck on his beautiful dick when he lifted her off the bed and, spreading her legs he lowered her onto his rigid mast.

She sighed with delight, her nipples still burning, her pussy still clenching from her first orgasm as another coiled inside her. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she pumped with her hips, taking a little more of him with each thrust.

They stood there, the two of them joined as one bucking, moaning machine, writhing in desire, building toward climax.

All the blood had rushed from Freja's head. She was falling now, from a great height. She was falling and Déak was catching her, catching her on his great consuming spike.

Then he stilled for the briefest moment, the calm before the flood. His strokes began, slow and deliberate but accelerated again quickly. She felt the tremors of his body before his abundant semen spilled into her.

They fell on the bed, caressing each other, kissing with lips tickled by orgasm, toes curling and uncurling.

For the longest time, neither of them said anything. Déak lifted the cock gag necklace off her and tossed it on the dresser.

Freja grinned as he brushed a lock of hair off her face. "You're right," she said. "That was a lesson I'll never forget."

***

The following morning Déak and Freja packed the last of their things into their suitcases. Déak put the headboard back in place, hiding the iron rings.

"I may not be able to take you to the lighthouse," he said, "but you may find your experience on our visits here won't disappoint you."

Freja blushed as she set the riding crop back into the hidden dresser drawer. She rubbed her well-paddled ass, as she slid the drawer shut.

"I'm definitely not disappointed," she said.

"I am, a little." He tightened the last of the toggles that held the headboard in place. "I didn't get to use the paddle, the spurtle, leather cuffs, or the butt plug."

"It's good to have something to come back for, isn't it?" Freja said calmly, as if talking about coming back for a summer picnic or family reunion.

"And we don't even have to come back for the best parts of this. Didn't I tell you? I bought duplicates of all those things. Duplicates and other toys that you haven't seen yet."

Freja sighed with contentment. She'd had to wait four years, but it had been worth it. What she'd craved the most had nothing to do with the lighthouse, she realized.

What she'd wanted all along was one good man who understood the way she had to test the rules. She needed a fearless, daredevil man who could take her to the edge and back again, a man with a heart full of love and courage who would comfort and punish her in equal amounts.
Epilogue

The friendly staff at Lockriddle Manor welcomed Déak and Freja with a feast and an evening of games and dancing. Majordomo Xane had ensured that the long-empty cottage that was reserved for mated staff had been aired and cleaned from the rafters to the floor. It had two bedrooms, its own modern kitchen, a sunny living room, and its own garden patch. More importantly, there were fresh sheets on the bed, thick towels in the bathroom, and a vase of wildflowers on the kitchen table.

When Admiral Kai returned to his estate two days after their arrival, the first thing he did was stop by to say hello. He was a full blood Devmaerean, taller and darker skinned than Déak. A handsome man with restless eyes, he gave Déak a quick masculine hug before turning to Freja. In every aspect of his appearance, except one, he was a military man. His black boots shone, his trousers and shirt were crisply ironed. But then there was his unruly hair. It was long and thick, tied back with a thin leather strip, that almost, but not quite, tamed its wild waves. That slight imperfection made Freja like him instantly.

He embraced her warmly. "Thank you for joining the Grenville family. In honor of your vows, I've brought you a few small gifts." With that, he nodded at Xane who was waiting outside the door.

Xane walked in, a large wooden crate under one arm and a small willow basket under the other.

"Fine wine for your cellar." Kai said as Xane set the crate on the floor.

Kai took the willow basket and handed it to Déak. "The best black truffles from Gilandia."

Déak grinned. "Do I have to share?"

"Only with your beautiful mate," Kai said. He smiled at Freja. "I understand that Déak wanted a sous chef so badly, he decided he'd better mate to make sure you couldn't leave for four years."

Freja fingered the black truffle Déak had handed her. It was firm and smooth. "You're not mated yourself, Admiral?" she asked.

"I'm married to the sea," Kai said. "But I'm delighted to see Déak looking so happy. Matehood suits most people. It just doesn't appeal to me."

Freja looked at him with sympathy-filled eyes.

If only he knew what he was missing.

### THE END

Thank you for reading my book.

If you enjoyed it, would you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?

Thanks!

Libby Campbell
Appendix

**CitizenBand.** \- an ID bracelet issued to every citizen when they reach sexual maturity. It contains identification information including education and medical status. For female citizens, there is a contraceptive option that only the wearer can turn off and on.

**Black Abalone -** rare shellfish valued for its sweet flavor and aphrodisiac powers, but most of all for the even rarer blue pearls that they sometimes create.

**CommBand -** a communication device that combines the function of the CitizenBand with higher technology. It can create and deliver message stars. When enabled by government authorities, CommBands can also take photos and videos. Only senior members of government and society are allowed CommBands.

**CommBooth** \- public communication booths where people can pay to send messages.

**Devmaereans** \- the colonizing people who arrived on Devmaer two thousand years ago. They renamed the planet, previously called Kedranz, to honor their status as a conquering force. A blue-skinned, amethyst-eyed, tall race.

**Devros / Devcent** \- currency of Devmaer. A Devcent is 1/100th of a Devro.

**Domestics -** girls, mostly refugees from Silvelea, who are raised in orphanages and trained to be ideal mates.

**Girls Crib** \- an institution where homeless girls, most rescued from the slave markets of Silvelea are taken. They are trained as domestics so they can be mated when they turn 18, once Matron grants their Tickets of Leave.

**Gingerfruit -** a grapefruit-size fruit that tastes like sweet orange spiced with ginger

**Hovercar, hoverbike** \- see vehicles

**Jemducks** \- large edible waterfowl that produce enormous eggs. Their feathers are prized for making pillows and quilts

**Joining / mating** \- a tradition like earth weddings only the period of the binding is limited to four to six years depending on the country. Couples whose love and commitment stretches beyond that period can renew their vows at the end of each term. Every renewal is marked with increasing festivity to celebrate enduring love.

In the country of Senne, binding ribbons are tied around the joining couples' wrist at the announcement of their intention to mate and again at the ceremony.

**Karshark** \- a massive macropredator, part shark, part primitive Devmaerean monster. The upper half of its body including the dorsal fin is bright, luminescent purple.

**Kedrants -** the original people of Devmaer whose ancestors all possessed magical talents, including the ability to heal, grown certain crops, and, in rare cases, read the thoughts and feelings of others. This is the least populous race on Devmaer, and its numbers are falling while its magic gifts are disappearing. Kedrants have different colored eyes and extremely curly tiger-striped hair which cannot be dyed.

**Message star** \- stars created by CommBands that allow messages to be delivered anywhere. Once a message is delivered, it disappears forever. It is a delayed delivery, not a real time, system.

**Patchers** \- root vegetables, a cross between a potato, a yam and a beet.

**Port Guard** \- quasi military cross between port police and coast guard.

**Rickleberries** \- berries that set from late spring until mid-fall. A cross between strawberries and blueberries.

**Senne** \- the last nation / continent on Devmaer with a monarchy

**Silvelea** \- a lawless nation inhabited by pirates and outlaws.

**Tickets of Leave** \- the tickets that allow the girls to leave the Girls Crib, issued at the discretion of the Matron.

**Vehicles** \- other than workers who need vehicles for their occupations, only the most elite citizens and nobility own private rides. Almost all vehicles are anti-gravity hovercraft, but some superseded combustion engine vehicles are still around, often pulled by hump-back equids because fossil fuel is hard to find.

**Viewing screens** \- large screens in home and public buildings. A cross between a TV and a low-level computer with some games available. Content is controlled by each nation's government.

**Whitegan** \- a broad-leafed every green tree with white bark. Its bark is used to make poultices for wounds. Its leaves can be boiled to make a tea that cures stomach upsets.

The Lighthouses of Devmaer series:

Thank you for reading this prequel. If you enjoyed it, I'm sure you'll like the other books in the series:

Bound to the Admiral, book 1

On the planet of Devmaer, a pandemic is spreading. Princess Gael is the only healer whose herbal remedies can ease its symptoms. As people get desperate, her elixirs are being hijacked and sold on the black market, instead of reaching those most in need.

As lawlessness sweeps the land, Gael's mother, Queen Vasa, decides it's time for Gale to take a mate, for her own safety.

Gael is stunned; she has no desire to marry and give up her work or her freedom. Likewise, Admiral Kai Grenville, the man chosen to be her mate, considers himself already married to the sea. Duty bound, Kai accepts the crown's decision, but Gael acts out her displeasure with petulance and sarcasm.

Ever alert to mutiny, Kai quickly turns her over his knee for a lesson in acceptable behavior. Steaming with indignation, Gael find his dominance also arouses her in new and troubling ways. She quickly discovers Kai's hands can deliver exquisite pleasure or fearsome discipline, both of which leave her panting for more.

After Gael rashly exposes herself to life threatening danger, Kai decides it is time she visits the lighthouse of pleasure and pain. Will the lighthouse lessons and the resulting passion calm the troubled waters?

Some Reviews:

I had a great time reading this book. The characters are well developed and engaging and the storyline flowed smoothly from start to finish. – BookBub reviewer

Drawn into this new world, I couldn't put it down! Princess Gael and Admiral Kai, forced into mating by a decree from the Queen, will have to spend the next four years of their life together. He's as determined to protect her at all costs as she is to continue to what she wants. The world building here is fantastic! – BookBub reviewer

This is one wonderful, romantic and steamy book! This isn't another drop a handsome alien in a book situation. In this story, the author takes you to a whole new and vivid world. [...] This book will you take you on a fast-paced, fascinating and unexpected journey to find those answers. I cannot say enough about the world Ms. Campbell has created. There is so much to explore and see and I hope it will feature in many more stories. – Amazon reviewer

This book has fun characters, and interesting world-building, but feels like it is laying the groundwork for a Universe in which more will happen, and where Xane and Jules might also get stories. – Amazon reviewer

**Disclaimer:** Bound to the Admiral, is an 'enemies to lovers', fantasy-world romance. Along with a happily-ever after ending, it has some very steamy scenes, including elements of power exchange and discipline. If such content may offend, please do not buy this book

See my books page for availability <http://libbycampbell.com/books> or  http://libbycampbell.com/books/2019/9/24/a-shiny-new-release-bound-to-the-admiral

Bound to the Commander, book 2

When rumors of twenty-three-year-old orphan Pepper Thornback's incredible healing abilities reach the ruling Tribunal, Commander Quinn Garrick sets out to bring her to the capital. Pepper is given no choice in the matter, and when she attempts an escape during the journey she is taken over his knee for a sound spanking and then stripped bare for a painful, embarrassing switching.

More humiliating still, upon reaching their destination Quinn informs Pepper that she will be his ward for the duration of her stay and he will not hesitate to deal firmly with any disobedience.

Despite her blushing indignation at being treated in such a shameful manner, Quinn's stern dominance arouses Pepper deeply, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly she is left utterly spent and satisfied. But when Pepper makes a shocking discovery concerning the fate of her parents, will the revelation strengthen her bond with Quinn or tear them apart forever?

**Disclaimer:** Bound To The Commander, book two in the Lighthouses of Devmaer series, is fantasy-world romance. Along with a happily-ever after ending, it has some very steamy scenes, including elements of power exchange and discipline. If such content may offend, please do not buy this book.

Released April 2020. See my books page for availability  http://libbycampbell.com/books/2020/4/24/the-commander-is-live-the-lighthouses-of-devmaer-book-2

Bound to the Sheriff, book 3

Almost finished (as at May 2020)
All about Libby Campbell:

Her books:

The Lighthouse of Devmaer, a fantasy-sci fi series:

 Bound To The Past (prequel) (this book)

 Bound To The Admiral, book 1

 Bound To The Commander, book 2 (released April 2020)

Bound To The Sheriff, book 3 (in progress May 2020)

Time Travel:

His Land, His Law

A Time For Will

Contemporary Romance:

 Festive Fire – a Christmas romance

 Holiday Hope - another Christmas Romance

 Romancing the Coast – a 3 book box set. Individual titles available separately.

 Simon in Charge – a 3 book box set. Individual titles available separately.

Libby Campbell in her own words:

My romance novels feature strong, self-reliant women and the powerful men who love them. Romantic by nature, I write the stories I want to read: those that feature a spicy power exchange and deliver a sting in the tale.

Canadian by birth, I also lived in Australia for a couple of decades. While living there I overcame my aversion to saucer-sized spiders and, as a condition of marriage to my Aussie Prince Charming, I swore a lifelong allegiance to the Melbourne Football Club.

Then family called and my husband and I packed up and moved. We now live on a rocky island on Canada's West Coast, close to beaches that once were frequented by smugglers and rumrunners.

My passions are reading and writing. I adore all animals and love hiking, beachcombing, and an occasional night of dancing.

Connect with Libby Campbell:

Sign up for her newsletter here: Libby Campbell newsletter

Follow her on BookBub: <https://www.bookbub.com/profile/libby-campbell>

Visit her website and blog here: Libby Campbell

Find her on Facebook – <https://www.facebook.com/Libby-Campbell-849543415164235/>

Follow her on Twitter: @LibbyC26

Pinterest: <https://nz.pinterest.com/libby3054/>
