Bound at the Ball (Siren Publishing Allure)
Bound at the Ball
Rella Cinder was born to the submissive race on her planet and has finally reached the age of maturity. She has hated her nature since birth and has fought her submissiveness. As the youngest of four sisters, she’s watched the others go off and look for mates. This time she’s forced to comply with the government’s edicts, which includes attending the Unity Ball and taking a mate from the warrior species. What she doesn’t know is that she has already caught the eye of a warrior before stepping foot into the Ball.
Warrior Sabar T'Brun is ready to take a mate but doesn’t want a weak female. He sees what he craves in the willful Rella during her Initiation Ceremony. Her sweet submission and soft cries of passion are exactly what he wants in a mate.
Can they find each other before the Unity Ball ends? Or will someone else claim her?
Genre:
Futuristic, Science Fiction
Length:
47,911 words
Lea Barrymire
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
BOUND AT THE BALL
E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-424-5
First E-book Publication: February 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of
Bound at the Ball
by Lea Barrymire from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
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This is Lea Barrymire’s livelihood.
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Barrymire’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
To all of the people in my life who’ve stood by every crazy change I’ve made. Without you, I’d still be in a dead-end job, hating life. I love you all.
BOUND AT THE BALL
LEA BARRYMIRE
Copyright © 2013
Rella wiped sweat from her forehead for the hundredth time. The heat from the third sun seemed to be stronger than it ever had been before. The yellow globe hung heavy in the sky, mocking her. Maybe it felt hotter because she’d been awake long before first sunrise and hadn’t had time to get food at morning meal or because her nerves were stretched thin over what was coming that night. Perspiration ran down her back in little rivulets, making her skin itch. She wore the thinnest dress she owned, but still moisture soaked the fabric. It clung to her like a second skin as she scrubbed at the purple stones lining their walkway. Her hands were cracked and aching from the harsh soap, stinging anew each time she sunk them into the bucket of suds.
She hated festival days, especially the Unity Festival. Not only did she and her sisters spend days scrubbing and preparing for the feasts, but they had to attend the ball. A shiver of fear rolled around in her belly, causing a cramp and more nausea. She’d turned twenty-one summers on her birth celebration day. She’d be forced to attend the ball this year. All the years of wishing and dreading were at an end. She’d finally be able to find out what all the mystery was about. After the next night she’d be considered an adult, no longer being sent away to stay at a friend-of-the-family while the rest of the women prepared for the celebration. She was terrified and excited to finally be in the know.
She’d watched her sisters, one-by-one, go off to the gatherings for the last few years and each time they returned they were different, changed, meeker. Every year her sister’s behavior morphed a little more. After the last Unity Festival, her second oldest sister, Lena, didn’t return home after the ball. She’d found a mate that evening, moved to his home, and now carried his offspring in her belly. Rella had seen her sister and mate interacting on more than one occasion and shuddered at the vision they portrayed. Their behavior, and especially the reactions of her sister, struck her as wrong. Lena had knelt and addressed her mate in subservient tones, did everything for him, and seemed contented by it.
That would never be her, she promised herself. She might be forced to attend the celebrations, but she’d never bend to the will of another. She’d never turn into the mild female everyone wanted her to be. She liked who she was. Yes, it meant being reprimanded more often than normal, but she couldn’t help how she reacted to authority, and didn’t want to.
“Rella, let’s go. You have studies to attend to before the Cleansing Ceremony tonight.” Bana’s lilting voice carried from the house, breaking into Rella’s thoughts. She tried to stop the cringe that threatened to mar the blank mask ever present on her features. Her sister’s voice reminded her of the slap she’d received that morning. Anger stirred in her gut at the memory. Rella hadn’t meant to voice her thoughts, but once the words of disrespect had left her lips she’d felt the sting of Bana’s hand on her face.
Over time Bana had slowly morphed into a mean, vindictive enemy. It seemed to stem from each gathering her sister returned from. It didn’t seem to matter what anyone did, the anger would boil out and spill over as some form of verbal or physical abuse toward Rella. She’d learned quickly that keeping her face smooth of emotions would keep her from being hit as often. If her sister couldn’t see her emotions, then there was nothing to punish her for.
“I’ll be right there,” Rella answered. She stood slowly, wiping her hands on her dress. She needed to bathe before starting her lessons. Long strands of black hair had escaped from the plait that fell between her shoulders and ended just above her waist. The wisps clung to her face and neck, making her itch. Sucking a deep breath in helped center her thoughts and bury the anger.
She gathered the bucket and brushes she’d used to scrub the paving stones, and she dumped the water onto a bush before entering their home. The stone face of their dwelling gleamed in the sunlight. She and Marena had spent precious hours scrubbing and whitening each rock until the entire building looked like it was manufactured from metal. She felt pride stir over the beauty her father supplied. Their home was small but lavish, even sporting one of the few gardens in their community. The group of homes that surrounded hers was isolated by a high defensive wall. It gleamed in the stark sunlight, reminding her of the tentative safety her race had won. Beyond the walls stood immense stretches of grasslands, barren and unfriendly. The small community she lived in boasted of its plant life. Green foliage and a few trees dotted their yards, but that was not normal for their world. The wars had destroyed much of the vegetation, and it was still years from being completely regrown.
Shaking herself from her musings, she stepped toward the door. Her skin stung and she made a mental note to treat the cracks before starting her studies. She silently placed the cleaning materials in the closet, removed her shoes, and walked through the kitchen. Only she and Bana were home, but she didn’t want to incur any additional discipline from her older sister by being loud.
Rella was the youngest of four daughters. Marena, Lena, and Bana were all older than her by many seasons. When Lena found her mate, Bana had taken over caring for Rella, including her schooling and monitoring her behavior. It should have fallen to Marena’s shoulders. Would have if Bana wasn’t so nasty and Marena wasn’t so soft. Marena didn’t have it in her to fight Bana for head of household. Perhaps she was waiting to escape just as much as Rella. Or, more likely, Marena was still devastated from the loss of their mother and would never pull herself from the pit of emptiness that stared from her eyes.
Bana could be demanding and overzealous in her teachings, especially if irritated. More than once she’d used the cane on Rella’s back to remind her of some piece of information or another. Physical punishment was Bana’s favorite. Canes, fists, and cooking utensils all were easily yielded as weapons. Anything that would leave a mark seemed to placate the anger-fever that stole over her sister.
Rella hurried silently into the bathing chamber and started the water collecting in the basin while she stripped off the dirty dress. She hadn’t worn underclothes, knowing she would just sweat through them. Her breasts were almost too small for a binding anyway. Unlike her older sisters, who were well endowed with plump, round breasts, she still had slim hips and small mounds tipped in small nipples. She stood in front of the looking silver and once again lamented the fact that she still looked like a young girl. She grasped her breasts in her hands and squeezed them together and smirked at the pitiful cleavage she created.
She pinched the pink tips and rolled them between her forefinger and thumb. A shock of need spread through her body. A moan slipped from her lips and echoed in the room. She whipped her head around to make sure her sister hadn’t heard. They weren’t allowed to touch themselves, weren’t supposed to know that nipples were sensitive and sent throbbing heat to their pussies. She didn’t usually indulge in self-manipulation, but her breasts felt full and achy. Tweaking her nipples again made her knees weak and another moan sounded against her clenched teeth. She slammed her lips together and stared at her hands in the glass. Rella continued rolling her nipples until they were dark pink and tender.
