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  A Most Unsuitable Mate

  Carolyn Faulkner

  Blushing Books

  ©2017 by Blushing Books® and Carolyn Faulkner

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  Carolyn Faulkner

  A Most Unsuitable Mate

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-440-9

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-474-4

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors .

  Contents

  What’s Inside

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Other Titles

  Carolyn Faulkner

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  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  F ar from doing what most men might and simply flinging the garment as far away from her as soon as they could, Vallon rose slowly and kissed her again, deeply, bending her back a little, letting the gown part from her body naturally .

  He ended the kiss by simply moving his mouth, leaving a moist trail of kisses along her delicate jaw line, then down the side of her neck, which he soon discovered was quite ticklish, nibbling on an earlobe or two, then kissing the divot at the base of her neck. From there, he gladly bent himself to follow the line of bare flesh that stretched out before him, kissing down the center of her chest, watching as her breasts swelled and her nipples peaked enticingly beneath the fabric .

  When Vallon rose, he met her eyes. Then, holding them, he brought his mouth to what he could see through the diaphanous material was a deep rose nipple, first simply breathing on it, causing her to try to jerk away from him in reaction, then placing his hand on the small of her back to prevent her moving away from him and drawing his lips closed to suckle once, lightly at one before moving on to worship the other in the same fashion .

  Her hands were on his chest in what he knew was silent protest—he could feel them trying to push him away—although not in a panicked manner at all—as she attempted to lean her nipples out from under his avid attentions—but he did nothing more than that, ignoring her reluctance until it had dissolved and was replaced by a hesitant desire, her back arching, not in avoidance, but in offering, instead, the hands that had been on his chest slowly creeping up to cup the back of his neck and hold his mouth to her .

  Her first whimper of pleasure was almost the end of things for him. It was so tentative, still so disbelieving at the core, yet it was an undeniable triumph for him. He continued to do what he had been doing, until, eventually, he took the nearest edge of fabric in his teeth and moved it away from her breast, licking and suckling his way from the underside of a breast that was quite generous, especially for her delicate size, around to the top, acquainting himself with the intimate flavor of her skin before he settled his mouth back onto that now bare peak .

  He thought she was going to collapse in his arms at that, but she didn't. She was panting, though, and her head moving restlessly back and forth, that beautiful silver hair of hers falling nearly to the floor as it undulated, those tiny little moans of hers that he thought were going to drive him crazy coming nearly every second now as he worshipped unabashedly at the altar of her beautiful breasts .

  When Vallon lifted his head, he reached up and slid his fingers beneath the fabric of her already parted gown, unhooking it from her shoulders, but not insisting that she relinquish the safety of it entirely—yet .

  "You are stunningly beautiful, you know ."

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  Chapter 1

  "W ill you pay attention and decide quickly? The rest of us do more than just read all day and we have things to do!" Sillandra tugged on her older sister's arm. "I cannot believe Mother allowed you to wait so long to become a woman. Vohnr and I have already fulfilled our duty to the realm and produced children—even if hers was only a boy. She indulges you entirely too much, but then, she always has ."

  Cika allowed herself to be harangued, cajoled and otherwise woman-handled to the area where the more common breeding stock were standing in a relatively straight line on a makeshift platform. These were obviously not the ones from which they were to choose—too common and low for a girl such as herself .

  "If you didn't want to come here with me, then, why did you ?"

  Sillandra shrugged. "Someone had to. Mother has the affairs of state to attend to, and Vohnr has the baby and her position as Governor of the Precinct to keep her busy. I drew the short straw ."

  Cika hated the market and almost never went there unless she'd heard a rumor that one of the vendors might have obtained a shipment of books from somewhere. That was one of the few reasons she'd ever darken its smelly, crowded warrens .

  Sillandra was the sister she had, immediately, while still a precocious child, dubbed Silly, pretty much refusing to refer to her as anything else, much to her sister's displeasure. Today, Silly had literally dragged her past the stalls of fresh vegetables, meat and other wares until they'd made their way to the back of the whole establishment. She was even corralling her quickly past the last rickety stage where there was yet another motley line of males on display .

  Th
ey were all of the same sort, though, tall, muscular and brutish, with barely a brain cell among the eight or so of them. All but the one at the end, near where they were headed. He looked quite different from the rest, catching her eye entirely against her will .

  They were all bound at the ankles and wrists by chains that were all interconnected and were designed specifically to further hinder their movements, and, of course, they were all gagged. Although he was not quite as overtly muscular as the rest of his companions, he was taller than they were and looked quite strong in his own right .

  He also—unlike the rest of them—wasn't staring blankly at the ground, expression slack and dumb. Instead, when her gaze settled on him, his eyes quite boldly met hers—that was, until the owner of that particular breeding stock stall came over and began to both lecture and beat him savagely for having the audacity to lock eyes with a member of the royal household and the princess royale, no less !

  Even then, he barely bowed his back, despite the blows that fell about his head and shoulders, but as he tried to turn himself away from them with little success, Cika saw the raw, red stripes on his back that meant he had been whipped recently, and the sight of such brutality sent a shiver through her spine .

  However unlike her it was, she could not bear to see him being punished so savagely, and before she knew it, she found herself standing in front of the stage .

  "Stop that at once!" she ordered, in a tone she didn't recognize as her own. She'd rarely raised her voice to anyone—save the woman at her side who was aghast at her behavior—in her life .

  The proprietress immediately halted her assault on the slave. "Beg pardon, Highness ."

  Silly was grabbing at her clothes again and pinching her arm in the process, whispering urgently, "What do you think you're doing ?"

  "Stopping her from beating to death a piece of valuable merchandise !"

  "What do you care what she does with him?" she hissed. Silly smiled at the woman who owned the place, muttering angrily under her breath, "Now, we're obligated by protocol to look these inferior specimens over, and I can't see that any of them would be a proper match for someone of your exalted position." She practically spat the last two words .

  Cika had learned to ignore even the most blatant evidence of her sister's jealousy. "I'm sorry—but it's not right. I'd stop someone from beating a dog—why not a man ?"

  "Because men are harder to control than dogs, and they need a firm hand." She gave her older sister a disbelieving look. "Are you really so totally naïve about how to handle a male ?"

  "I am not!" Cika huffed. "I just hate to see anyone—even a male—getting hurt ."

  That was just what she expected from her weak-willed, soft skinned sister. How was someone like that going to lead their people? Sillandra just snorted and shook her head in disgust. "Well, I guess I'd better get at it. This is going to make us late to our appointment to see the real, acceptable offerings, though ."

  Cika stepped aside then turned her back on the whole proceedings, as was required. She had never had a mate of any kind and, thus, was not allowed to participate in the procuring of such, which involved entirely too much physical contact to be considered proper for a woman who was still bodily pure .

  And Silly was right. She had been allowed to wait much too long, but Mother had always had a soft spot for her bookish eldest. Silly, with her incredibly well-honed battle skills, encyclopedic knowledge of military tactics, diplomacy, law, and overall political tendencies, would make a much better ruler than she was ever going to but then, she would keep her middle sister—and her youngest sister—in her court as her most trusted advisors, so Cika had never felt that she really needed to learn much more than the bare bones basics of any of those things .

  Regardless of their position, each princess was expected to have a profession—the eldest and presumptive heir usually choosing something that would assist her in her future role governing the planet. But not Cika. She had thrown herself into expanding the library system a hundred-fold, accumulating more books from more places, and setting up schools that the children of even the lowliest, least worthy subject could attend in order to better themselves .

  Mother had been most patient with what were widely considered to be wasteful programs, Vohnr had simply rolled her eyes at them, but Silly had become downright angry. It seemed that everything she did—but even more so, everything she didn't do, like taking a mate when she was younger and more fertile—annoyed her middle sister to no end, and they had erupted into a vicious fight in the royal chambers, one their mother had been forced to break up before Silly physically demolished her much more delicate opponent .

  And, as much as she had whined and complained about coming here today with her sister, she had an ulterior motive in doing so .

  As a staunch matriarchy, it was considered every woman's duty to have children, from the queen on down. The birth of a daughter into any household was greeted with much celebration. They were kept and raised with every possible advantage by their mothers. Boy children were often hidden, rarely spoken about while they were in residence, and were taken from their mothers once they were weaned and sent elsewhere to be raised as slaves who were pressed into service to the state, doing what they were born to do, being strong and mating—when they were allowed—with the women who owned them. Not enough male children were produced on the planet, but there were brave bands of women who captured men from other worlds to be brought here and sold—at quite a high price—which, along with fattening their coffers as well as that of the state, allowed for a certain amount of diversity among the people of Aristol .

  But the woman—now girl—who was going to inherit the throne was expected to mate with a male who was exclusively of good, Aristolian stock—certainly not an off-worlder from who knew where .

  Silly began at the far end of the line of them—well away from the man her sister had saved from the beating he had undoubtedly deserved for being so forward as to think he was good enough to actually look at a member of the royal family .

  As she walked by each one, they revealed themselves to be the usual low-class candidates, with heads bowed and dull, lifeless eyes, barely able to stop themselves from drooling in her presence, every one of them sporting an erection, although their modesty cloths were barely put to any test, despite their arousal. She neither spoke to nor touched any of them .

  But such could not be said about the man at the end of the line. When she stood before him, he brought himself to attention and executed a little mock bow, and even though his mouth was covered by the gag, she could tell that he was grinning at her. There were obvious signs of either abuse or—more likely—the punishment deemed necessary to subdue him, and she wasn't quite sure which it might be, although she leaned strongly towards the latter .

  But he remained straight backed, regardless, as she examined him, walking all the way around him, touching his broad, muscular shoulders, cupping his firm buttocks and then, when she made her way to the front of him again, doing more than noting that the usual strip of cloth was doing very little to conceal the size and heft of his endowment .

  She cupped him there deliberately, squeezing just enough to raise him onto his toes to try to avoid the pressure her fingers were exerting, her eyes on his intense green ones, waiting patiently until his finally found hers. Then it was her turn to smile as she relieved him of the pitiful covering, allowing him to spring forth from that thatch of black hair that mirrored the long, unkempt mane he currently wore past his shoulders, unable to control the gasp at the sight of his size—eight or nine inches, she would estimate, and a girth that literally made her mouth water, especially since he grew even further as she touched him .

  For a long moment, she considered taking him for herself, although she already had a mate at home who had given her five strong, healthy daughters and only one measly boy. But in the end
, ever practical, she dismissed the idea, knowing that the time she would spend fucking him—although probably incredibly pleasurable—would take away from her ultimate goal—one she'd never shared with anyone .

  She intended to replace her sister on the throne. Sillandra wasn't exactly sure how she was going to accomplish it, but she had vowed she was going to do it from the moment she realized just how truly unsuitable Cika was for the position—and that was a long, long time ago. She was weak and emotional and was almost worse than useless in a fight. How could she possibly rule ?

  There was no precedent for a second daughter inheriting unless the elder died, and she had already steeled herself for that eventuality. She would be doing it for the good of Aristol and had already amassed a cadre of troops who were loyal to her and her alone .

  The man who stood so proudly before her was the least suitable mate for a princess royale that could probably be found on the entire planet. He was already wearing the signs that pointed to the fact that he was prone to rebellion, and, even on such short acquaintance, he seemed much too intelligent to be as easily led by his cock, as most men were .

  To say nothing of the fact that he was enormous. That quality alone was quite likely to dissuade her sister from wanting to mate very often—although she would definitely feel obligated to and probably wouldn't enjoy it at all, which also worked to Sillandra's advantage in a couple of ways. First of all, she didn't just want to usurp her sister's position, she wanted her sister to suffer for a while before that happened. Sillandra had had enough of her older sister, who should have already stepped up and begun to take some of the burden of office from their mother's aging shoulders and managed to skirt as much responsibility as she could. What's more, she got away with doing so. And secondly, if she hated to mate, there was much less of a likelihood that there would be any unwanted progeny to have to take care of when it came time for her ascension .