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ecstasy that claimed her body. She gyrated her hips against the wand that the doctor still held to her clit. Though she was lying down, she felt lightheaded and feared she might faint upon the table.
    Hunter released his grip on her and stroked a hand down her stomach. “That’s a good girl, Becca.” The pride inflected in his voice made her want to cry, but she bit her lip and held the tears in, thinking she’d cried enough for one day.
    She opened her eyes and didn’t see the doctor, but she heard him moving around behind her. “This prisoner is healthy and sexually responsive, Officer Makin. Aside from those scars on her thighs, she’s quite attractive too. I assume you accompanied her during the exam because you had doubts about her. Do you still wish to take ownership of her?”
    She felt Makin tense and trail his fingers across the tops of her thighs, right over the permanently raised marks on her skin. She hated the warden so much she wished him dead, and her heart lodged in her throat. Of course the bastard doctor had to call attention to her scars. Now Makin wouldn’t want her.
    After the promise of being free of the warden’s attentions and having to endure this exam, she would be sent back to her cell for three more weeks, until the warden claimed her as his bride.
    Waiting for Makin’s response was the worst kind of agony. But finally he spoke, and his words couldn’t have surprised her more.
    “She’s quite attractive, doctor, even with the scars. Yes, I still wish to take ownership of her.”
    “Very well. I’ll leave you to dress her and take her to the chapel. Thank you for your service on Kemmius.”
    Once the doctor left the room, Makin guided Becca’s feet from the stirrups and helped her sit up. He rubbed her back and smoothed her hair down, running his fingers through her tangles. She bowed her head, afraid to look him in the eye. He’d just seen her at her most vulnerable.
    As her thighs brushed together, she stared at her now smooth center, and she flushed hot. It was so odd to think that after a short treatment from the doctor her hair would never grow back. She wanted to touch her bare mound, but resisted. Later, in private, she would inspect it herself and collect her thoughts as well.
    She wondered how soon Makin would leave her alone. Would he have his way with her the second they stepped onto the transport? She assumed they would be getting on a transport destined for Merro today, a transport not so dissimilar from the ships that ran through the Interstellar Port. Most of the passenger ships had private bedrooms, and even if their ship didn’t, she couldn’t protest a single thing he did to her, even in public. She was about to become nothing more than his possession, like the very boots on his feet.
    “Come on, Becca, let’s get you dressed.”
    She slid off the table and stood on shaking legs, but Makin was right there with an arm around her, steadying her. She dared a look into his eyes and found the frightening intensity from earlier gone. He no longer appeared angry. She exhaled a deep breath, beyond relieved that he at least wasn’t going to hurt her before they left the prison.
    She obediently got dressed, with his assistance of course. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and though his touch unnerved her, it also brought her the same comfort as it had the night he’d spanked her in her cell. How she still longed for him to embrace her against his chest. Maybe if she was a good wife and did all he required of her, he might hold her on occasion. She felt stupid and pathetic for the thought. If she were stronger, she might fight him and try to escape the island, might try to find her way to another planet, even return to Earth.
    Once her prison uniform was back in place, Makin held her out by her shoulders and gazed at her, some of the startling intensity returning to his visage. She tried not to cower, but she felt so small, so petrified. She kept reminding herself