Captive – Primal Planet Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
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I am not well pleased. Thorn is not taking the matter overly seriously. He finds these human females amusing in their unpredictable ways. There is certainly something very hot-blooded about them. They are rarely predictable. But Raine still knows better than to behave this way. She has to be testing me. Seeing if I will do what I say. Seeing if there are any cracks in my armor, as it were. If she learns that there are some situations in which I will show her mercy, she will start pushing the limits every chance she gets.

I pick up a thick wooden ruler. It will be enough to make an impression, but not so cruel it will turn her into a sobbing mess. That will come later.

“I told you to behave yourself,” I lecture her. “And you went out of your way to antagonize our hosts. That kind of rudeness will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”

“Whatever,” she mumbles into the table.

It strikes me as a juvenile and disrespectful response, so I strike her in return, landing a solid swat with the flat of the wooden implement and creating a bright red stripe where it lands. It alone will not be enough to put her in the mood for atonement, but it is a start.

“Whatever? That is no kind of apology, Raine. I want to hear you say sorry to both the alpha and his mate.”

“Sorry to both the alpha and his mate,” she repeats, dutifully, her tone holding not a single note of contrition.

It is not often that someone does both precisely as I say, and still manages to behave like a disrespectful brat at the same time, but she has managed the feat.

It earns her three solid strokes, one above the first line, one below it, and a hard one right in the center, overlaying the first one perfectly. The result is a deepening red line in the middle and two lighter ones above and below. It is very satisfying, both the sight of it, and the resulting mewling yelps she produces.

“Again, and try to mean it this time.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, begrudgingly. There is something ever so petulant about her tone. She sounds like a recalcitrant whelpling being disciplined. Usually those who come under my lash are a lot more effusive about their apologies. But I am being much kinder to her than I would be to any of them. There is a softness about me when it comes to Raine that no other living being has ever, or will ever experience.

There is another reason for my reluctance to go further. Her squirming red cheeks are doing things to me, making my cock become rock hard with the demand to take my mate. If I keep looking at her this way, and punishing the deserving soft rounds of her cheeks this way, I may very well lose control of myself entirely.

I lay down the ruler and return the dress to its proper location. I like this wrap style. It is always one swift tug away from no longer being a dress at all.

“We will finish this when I get you home,” I tell her, so she knows she is in for more. “And speaking of home, I believe it is time we said our goodbyes. Thank you for a very nice meal, Thorn. I am sorry we couldn’t be better company.”

“Well, you’ve certainly been good entertainment,” he replies with a chuckle. I know he is relieved that it is my mate causing the trouble, and not his — for once.

Raine

I know he just let me off lightly, but that was still the most humiliating experience of my life. Of all the people to be stripped naked and paddled in front of, Sullivan has to be the worst. Now she has something to remind me of when it suits her. She will be able to gain the upper hand in conversation effortlessly, so I’m glad we’re leaving.

“Bye, Raine,” she says. “Hope you can sit later. Nice to see so much of you again.”

Ah, to hell with it. I know I’m going to regret this, but sometimes you do things you know you’re gonna regret because the payoff in the moment is just too damn good.

I pick up a handful of something with a similar texture to mashed potatoes and I sling it at Sullivan’s smug face. It’s a good shot. It catches her right on the cheek and splatters instantly up into her hair and down over her fine dress.

“Raine!” She gasps my name, half-horrified, half-laughing. “What the…”

I was angry when I threw the mash, but there’s something about throwing soft foodstuffs that’s just inherently amusing. Dammit, that was a tactical error. I was all wrapped up in fury and shame and now the muscle in my cheek is twitching and I am a split-second from bursting out laughing.


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