Chosen by the High Judge (Under Alien Law Book 2) Read online

  In a short space of time, she’d undergone an unimaginable transformation both physically and emotionally. A week ago, when classes broke up for the recess and she’d invited her new friends out to celebrate, she could not have predicted that she would be sentenced to a barbaric ritualized punishment involving sex and discipline. She’d had to quickly accept she was quite alone and vulnerable. No Vendu would sympathize with her situation and there were no shoulders to cry on or friends to call upon for advice. Starting with her surrender to a bare ass spanking and continuing with this bizarre inking, her path was now inextricably linked to a man she hardly knew.

  She’d no clue as to what had been added to her skin. It seemed to have been something so special it didn’t show up. She peered into the mirror. Perhaps the ink was invisible to human eyes. Unlikely since humans and Vendu were closely related. The ink had to be activated in some way. Would Galen give her a drug that caused the ink to change and appear? What if it was only visible under certain lights, like ultraviolet—would she glow in the dark? She smiled. That could be fun. Then she frowned. She wasn’t supposed to have fun. She was supposed to suffer punishments. Having fun was what she used to do.

  One stupid mistake and that was it, locked up. Why couldn’t the policeman have given her a warning and let her off? Back at home in New Phoenix, she’d been cautioned a few times before for over-exuberance when a bit tipsy and she’d gotten away with it. Maybe tipsy was a generous recollection on her part and it might explain while others had different words in mind when they saw her drunk. Party princess, the most frequent name, was fitting and probably the politest reference her friends had created for Zara. She loved to party.

  Splashing water on her face, she ignored the miserable face in the mirror. She wasn’t a bundle of laughs anymore and she feared the sad expression might glue itself to her face if she didn’t find the willpower to accept her fate.

  Galen would come soon. A brief visit, according to Bisma. He had a function to attend. What would he make of her unblemished, pale skin? Disappointment? Would he cluck his tongue like Bisma? Unlikely. Galen specialized in the beady-eyed stare and growly voice. From nowhere a flurry of butterflies hit Zara’s stomach. Nervous? Excited? She couldn’t decide. What had triggered it was imagining him.

  Nothing made sense when it came to understanding her feelings toward Galen. Were there any appropriate feelings? Shame? Angst? Those, yes, but lust. Craving?

  No. No, no! Get a grip, Zara.

  She had to hide those feelings. Galen must not know that she felt anything like that about him. If he made her hot and horny, she had to resist the temptation to show it. Hands to herself, eyes down, and keep her dignity at all costs.

  Finished with washing and brushing her teeth, she draped the largest towel over her shoulders and sat on the bed. She’d nothing to do but wait.

  She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she felt was Bisma’s hand shaking her shoulder.

  “Zara. Wake up.”

  She lifted her head off the pillow. Bisma held the blindfold in her hand.

  Seriously! Was she never going to see Galen in the flesh?

  “Move. On your knees by the bed. He’s—”

  There were footsteps closing. Zara scrambled into position and Bisma slipped the blindfold over her eyes just as the door swung open.

  * * *

  Galen paused on the threshold to admire the girl on her knees. Her pale skin showed no trace of the inking ceremony. He hoped it had worked. He would find out soon.

  “Thank you, Bisma. You may leave us.” He stepped aside to let Bisma pass.

  He circled Zara, noting she was breathing rapidly. However, her skin tone had not changed in coloration. His arrival was not sufficient an incentive to awaken what lay buried deep below the surface of Zara’s frail human shell. Hardly surprising. She’d been in his house for less than two days and was probably filled with trepidation as to his intentions toward her. Galen, his shadow falling over her diminutive form, knew exactly what he desired. He intended to go the whole way. But not yet, not tonight. Patience!

  He reached down and took her hand, threading his fingers between her trembling ones. Slowly he drew her up onto her feet and allowed her to steady herself before releasing his grasp.

  She bit on her lower lip. What did she want to say?

  “Zara, what is it?”

  “I don’t think the tattoo worked. Sorry, sir.”

  He laughed softly by her ear. “No, little human. I’m sure it has worked fine.”

  There, for a second, a fleeting glimpse of it across her bosom. Nothing more than a tease, but there!

  With the softest of caresses he drew a line around one of her nipples. A faint shadow followed his fingertip. She swayed slightly, rising up onto her toes then back on her heels as he repeated the circuit. This time the trail of mellow azure remained, bleeding into the skin of her breasts, revealing the tattoo he’d commissioned.

  Yes, it was working. It thrilled him, knowing the chemistry of the ink was equally effective in humans as it was in Vendu. Of course his choice of inking had nothing to do with Astra. Such advanced technologies had not existed in her time. However, for his rendition of the ordeal he needed extra clues to Zara’s state of mind. How else would he know she was his? If he was to construct the right blend of punishments and pleasure, he had to understand her to the best of his ability, and that meant revealing everything she might choose to keep from him.

  She’d clasped her hands tightly together over her navel, right in the line of his sight. Try as she might to block his view, it was pointless hiding anything from him now.

  He continued his experiment and rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. The nib was the size of a small pebble he might find on a beach. He flicked it with his finger. She winced. A little pain, but the taunt hadn’t altered the hue of the color that surrounded the nipple. Cupping the breast in his palm, he gently squeezed. The azure deepened into indigo. Her jaw lowered and she released a sharp exhale. Bringing up his other hand, he played with both breasts—a slow, measured toying, which alternated between caresses and the occasionally pinch of her nipples.

  Her breasts weren’t the only part of her that was altering in color tone. Dropping his hands, he moved to stand behind her. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the spectacle of the emerging tattoo that covered her back.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  He stepped forward, grasped her upper arms, and drew her closer to his chest until her shoulder blades rested on his pectorals. His heartbeats pounded beneath his breastbone and his blood flowed hotter, thickening his shaft into an erection. Those reactions were due to what he was witnessing.

  She stiffened as he reached around and resumed his exploration. Tucked into the apex of her thighs, her knotted fingers guarded her entrance. Stroking her upper belly with the palm of his hand, he felt the warmth and firmness of her stomach. When he kissed her bare shoulder, trailing kisses along it to her neck, she gasped. The concentric circles around her breasts darkened—she couldn’t stop it from happening.

  “Move your hands, Zara.”

  She hesitated. He heard her swallow hard, then she dropped her arms to her sides. He pushed his hand lower and between her thighs, sliding it upward to where she’d bolted her legs tight together in the hope of dissuading him. It didn’t matter for now; he did not intend to penetrate her tonight. However, regardless of his resolution, her inner thoughts had betrayed her. The pattern on each of her thighs boldly pointed to his destination. As he approached her mound and the exposed nub of her clitoris, she leaned backward and brushed her bottom against his rigid cock, which remained tucked painfully inside his pants.

  Immediately, every line, swirl, and dot of the tattoos inked on her body turned nearly black. The blueness of near frigidity was gone. The arrival of purples and indigos indicated her heightened sensitivity. If he were to probe inside her untested pussy while her tattoos stayed steadfastly dark, he would find it slick and
wet, ready for use.

  He lifted her off his chest and spun her around. Lowering his lips to her upturned face, he pressed his mouth onto hers. She exhaled into his mouth and he held her there, giving himself the opportunity to explore with his lips and tongue. When he snatched her wrists and pinned them behind her back, the tattoos held their depth and intensity. No hint of paleness or fading.

  The harder he kissed, allowing her only the briefest intervals to breathe, the more convinced he was that the ink wasn’t lying to him. She couldn’t hide it—she was his. She’d bent to him and even if she appeared to resist with her mind, her body was already lost to him.

  He broke free and licked his lips, tasting her sweet flavor on them.

  She was breathing heavily, rocking again on her toes.

  It was time to reveal the true purpose of the ink.

  He removed the blindfold.

  * * *

  The light stung her eyes, even though the lighting blended into the surroundings. She blinked several times, attempting to assimilate her splintered thoughts. Something had happened while he touched her. She’d felt an electric buzz pulse beneath the skin of her back, breasts, and thighs; it almost hummed in tune with his teasing caresses. Painless, it had generated a modicum of heat to add to her already hot body. Tentatively, she looked down at her body.

  She gazed in wonder at the markings. They seemed to dance across her chest and bosom—a medley of circles forming symmetrical patterns. Something had brought the colors to the surface of her skin and caused the ink to darken into a rainbow of purples, blues, and emeralds.

  The ones on her inner thighs reminded her of a thicket of rose stems with thorns. They threaded their way up her leg. However, their destination was thwarted—she’d kept the towel over her mound preventing the inkers from tattooing around her clitoris. Yet, somehow, they’d managed to reach her hipbones.

  She peered over her shoulder. It wasn’t as easy to see, but she was tattooed from the nape of her neck to the bottom of her ribcage. The colors were the same, the pattern imitating leaves and vines again. And something else, which she couldn’t make out. Shapes hidden between the lines. How had they done all this in so few hours?

  “I can see by your expression you are both shocked and awed,” Galen remarked. He’d given her space and not laid a finger on her as she examined herself.

  “It’s some kind of reactive ink? A tactile trigger?” She tapped her skin just above a nipple. Was it as simple as that—the right amount of pressure and boom, the ink appeared. Except, it seemed to be altering. The darkest colors were fading into paler shades of blues and purples.

  Galen stepped toward her and lifted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. He’d a bemused expression—was he laughing at her? He cocked his head to one side and lowering his head, he blew on one of her pert nipples. The waft of moist breath hit the apex and she shivered with delight at the delicate touch. Immediately, the tattoo ringing her breast bloomed and intensified. The color deepened into a rich indigo.

  She stared in disbelief.

  No, no!

  He’d inked her with something that didn’t simply respond to tactile pressure—it was linked to her libido!

  “Yes,” he answered her unspoken question. “You can’t hide from me, little human. Your nakedness is a picture book for me to read. I shall know when you are cold to me and when you are hot for my cock. You won’t be able to deny your feelings.”

  She shook her head. It was unfair. Unreal. He’d given himself the means to unlock her deepest desires.

  “Don’t fight it, Zara. It is for your benefit that I do this. Astra lived a millennium ago when times were harsher and women treated as lesser beings. She submitted to Brynt and he took her as he pleased. I can’t be so callous, and neither do I want to be. You’ve infected me with something, Zara. It may not show like this ink, but it is just as potent. This way, I shall know when you are ready to be claimed. And not once, but over and over.”

  She shook her head again, fighting her anger, while at the same time, in awe of what he’d told her. He’d admitted having strong feelings toward her. Feelings that he probably shouldn’t. She couldn’t help responding in kind. The ink betrayed her rambling thoughts. Instead of diminishing, the colors had darkened further. She backed away from him.

  “You’ve tricked me,” she blurted. Was she that easy to please? A pushover? He’d made her ashamed of her arousal.

  Galen cupped her face in his large hands and tilted her head back further. “No, little human, I’ve evened things up.” He snatched one of her quivering hands and thrust it against his erection. “Feel that. It’s fucking hard as a rock. I could throw you on this bed and ravish you, let you scream for mercy and ignore every word. But, I won’t. However, I can’t hide this from you. You can see it, feel it. It is my weakness that you see this and when I come, you bathe in my spill—there is no hiding my bliss. This tattoo brings equality.”

  She tried to turn her head away as he brought his mouth down onto hers. It was futile. As their lips touched, she melted. The resistance ebbed. Beneath her skin, the buzzing sensation rose to the surface and the tattoo betrayed her darkest fantasies to him. She wanted him to ravish her and take her without consideration. She played the scene in her mind and it titillated, causing a spike of adrenaline.

  Galen lifted his head and sighed. A deep groan of satisfaction.

  “You’re going to come for me, Zara. Here on this bed,” he said.

  Rather than pushing her down, he lowered her, taking her weight in his arms until she rested on the bed. He spanned her body with his, and continued to kiss and touch her. His clothing brushed against her bare skin and the fact he was dressed and she wasn’t only added to the thrill. She moaned, lost in the thrall of raw emotions. With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see the tattoos. She wanted to deny they existed. The anger over what he’d done remained. He’d gifted himself a view of her soul. She had avoided the humiliation of a public whipping and in its place, Galen had guaranteed she had nowhere to hide. But, she couldn’t complain since he hadn’t reneged on his sentence or commuted it. Instead, he’d ensured he could enforce it.

  She should despise him. Go cold and frigid. However, to her chagrin, she hadn’t. She couldn’t even if she focused all of her thoughts on hating him. It was too late. Galen had already cracked open her soul and found a way in. The tattoo was a tool, a guide to help him navigate her, but the door had been opened back in his office, perhaps even in the courtroom when he spoke to her for the first time. The chemistry between them was far greater than that of the ink of the tattoo.

  Her eyes sprang open. The Vendu and humans were made for each other. The perfect match of physical and emotional.

  “Yes,” he said softly, rising above her. “You can’t deny it. Show me.”

  He thrust his hand between her legs and forced them apart so he could have full access to her sex. “You’re so wet.”

  The tattoos were black as the night sky. They seemed to float out of her skin and into the air just above her body.

  Zara was suffocating with too many conflicting emotions. She had to let some of them go. He was commanding her and she would obey. With a lengthy inhale, she relaxed and let her body go floppy and malleable.

  Sensing the change in her demeanor, he shifted his weight off her. Sitting on the side of the bed, he dragged her across his lap, keeping her belly up while her shoulders and legs were supported by the mattress on either side of him.

  He looped his arm around her waist and hitched her hips up onto his thighs and knees.

  “Part your legs,” he ordered.

  He needed to use only his thumb on her clit. A brisk agitation. She was so close to coming. With her arms tossed above her head, she thrashed her head from side to side. He slid his finger into her slick hole, just far enough to make her aware of his presence. His other hand covered her breast and he squeezed it with his fingertips.

  Galen masterfully worked her body into
a frenzy. She writhed and bucked as she came. Her clitoris throbbed painfully with ferocious spasms.

  “Too much, too much,” she moaned breathlessly.

  He ignored her protestations and continued to rub her clitoris with his thumb, milking the entirety of her orgasm.

  “You are mine to command, human. There is no escaping me. Show me.”

  Zara screamed. He was forcing her to keep coming, long after the first waves of her climax had abated. His display of dominance was driving her to another equally strong orgasm.

  “Good girl, go on. I can see it coming.”

  See it!

  Of course, her tattoos mapped out her emotions. Opening her eyes, she saw what he could see. Gone were the dark colors and in their place, she was glowing with reds and oranges. Her upper torso and thighs were sparkling with a firework display of warm colors. Galen stroked his hand up and down her body; he would be able to see the intensity of her orgasm in those vibrant colors.

  He ceased enticing her clitoris and gently cupped his hand around her mound. The pulsations eased and she slowly reclaimed control of her body.

  Galen sat her on his lap and traced his fingers along the lines on her back. She couldn’t see the tattoo, but she could guess it too was a rainbow of colors and forms.

  “So pretty,” he whispered. “The moment you came, you erupted like a fiery volcano.”

  He held her close to his chest, and continued to stroke and caress her quivering body.

  “I’m so ashamed,” she whispered back. “You made me come when I should be cross and hating you.”

  “I know,” he said. “I understand. Truly, I do. But this is an ordeal, Zara. Something for you to endure, for now, but I think you will overcome those negative feelings and thrive under my care.”

  “You still plan to whip me. Fuck me?” She rested her hand against his chest. His heartbeats were pounding and beneath her bottom, his cock poked up. She had to admire his self-control.