Instructing the Novice Page 3

  “Don’t say that, Lizabeth.” Lone’s eyes were troubled. “You’re beautiful—you know you are. You’d definitely be a target.”

  Lizabeth bit her lip—her assistant had never said such a thing to her before.

  “Well…thank you,” she said hesitantly. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to protect me. I’ve traveled in countries where they’re hostile to women before. The trick is keeping a low profile and keeping covered up—usually it’s when you start showing bare shoulders and legs and making direct eye contact with strange men that things get dicey.”

  “Traveling through Friezen territory isn’t the same as going to a country on Earth that’s hostile to women,” Lone objected. “The Friezens…you would be extra attractive to them. Because of your dark hair and light eyes and for…other reasons.”

  Lizabeth wanted to ask what other “reasons” he thought the alien misogynists would be attracted to her but Lone was looking so upset she decided to drop it.

  “Lone—” she began but he shook his head.

  “They even…” He swallowed, looking sick. “Even practice female genital mutilation. It would not be safe for you to be anywhere near the Friezens alone.”

  “Ugh!” Lizabeth shivered. “All right—you’ve convinced me. We’ll go together. You can be my guard in the hostile territory and my, uh, what did you say they were called again?”

  “The males who come to learn from the female teachers are called ‘Novices’,” Lone supplied.

  “And my Novice at the Tower,” Lizabeth finished. “We can learn Yonnite law together. Will that suit you?”

  “Very much…Wise One.” There was a faint sparkle in Lone’s gray eyes and he gave her a little half-smile.

  “Wise one?” Lizabeth put a hand on her hip. “Seriously? Is that what you have to call me? Because I don’t mind telling you, it makes me feel even older than I already am.”

  “You’re not old,” Lone said quietly. “And it’s either ‘Wise One’ or ‘Mistress.’ Which do you prefer?”

  “You can’t just call me Councilor Paige? Or Lizabeth?” she inquired.

  Lone shook his head.

  “Titles and appearances are very important at The Tower of the Higher Mind. As your Novice, I have to show you proper respect.”

  She frowned. “And what exactly does that entail?”

  “I’ve only done a little research but for one thing, I have to sit at your feet when I learn from you.” Lone demonstrated by sliding off the couch and kneeling at her feet, much to Lizabeth’s discomfort.

  Just being near the big Kindred and smelling his warm, spicy scent made her breasts swell and ache with the pressure of the nectar they were producing. She could feel the nursing pads she’d shoved into her bra getting soaked and hoped she wouldn’t leak through her blouse and give away the fact that she’d been lying about not having any more needing attacks. Plus, she still had that damn vibrator inside her too—what if Lone heard it over the soft yoga music now that he was closer to her?

  “Lone…” she began, pressing her thighs together and folding her hands nervously in her lap. “I don’t think we should…should do this.”

  “Do what, Mistress?” he murmured, looking up at her—though he didn’t have to look far because of his great height.

  “Lone, don’t play,” Lizabeth said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so high and uncertain. What was wrong with her?

  “I’m not playing…I’m practicing.” His gray eyes were earnest. “I have to show you proper respect. In fact, if what I read was correct, I have to kiss your hands every time we meet.”

  He took her hands, though Lizabeth tried to protest and draw them back, and pressed her right palm to his lips.

  God! Oh God, oh God, oh God!

  Lizabeth thought she would die from mortification. She had been touching herself with that hand before he had come to her door. Would he be able to scent her desire on her fingers? This was so embarrassing!

  If Lone did catch the scent of her juices, he didn’t say anything about it. But Lizabeth saw his nostrils flare and then his eyes were suddenly half-lidded as he placed another gentle kiss to her palm and fingers, playing special attention to her index and middle fingers, which she had been using to stroke herself.

  “Mistress,” he murmured. “Hear me now and may the iron pierce my heart if I lie—I mean you no harm and wish only to serve you in every way.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Lizabeth said uncertainly. “But I really don’t think you should…should say that to me, Lone.”

  “It’s part of the Novice’s oath to his Mistress,” he told her, at last releasing her hands, which she drew back and bunched into her lap in a tight knot. “I’m to say it to you when we enter the Tower.”

  “You are?” Lizabeth asked breathlessly. She lifted an eyebrow at him, trying to regain some composure. “And…it doesn’t bother you? Acting so subservient?”

  “There’s a difference between subservience and adoration,” he said softly. “Those at the Tower of the Higher Mind don’t believe that a Wise One should take a Novice unless the two of them honestly care for each other and he earnestly yearns to serve and protect her.”

  It was on the tip of Lizabeth’s tongue to ask if her assistant really felt all that for her…but she kept her lips resolutely closed. Lone was just playing the part, she told herself—“practicing” as he had put it. She would be the worst kind of fool if she acted like any of this was real.

  You’ve been down this road before, whispered a warning little voice in her head. You know he’s too young for you. Don’t go there again!

  “So,” she said at last, when she was certain she could trust her voice not to tremble or flutter. “When do we leave? You’ve probably already packed the shuttle and gotten permission from Commander Sylvan and the High Council—right?”

  He gave her an easy grin.

  “You know me too well. We can leave by tomorrow morning if you’re sure you want to go?”

  He made it a question and Lizabeth frowned.

  “Why would I not want to go? The dangerous landing area aside, it sounds like the perfect opportunity to learn Yonnite law from a true professional.”

  Lone nodded. “Yes, but I thought you might want to research it yourself. There are rumors of…hidden practices at the Tower. Certain unspoken rules which must be obeyed. If we dig a little deeper, we might be able to find out exactly what is expected of us once we get there.”

  “Well…” Lizabeth began.

  Just then the soft music coming from the exer-cube cut off abruptly. Lizabeth winced. Damn it—she must have turned it on the timed setting. The sudden silence in the room seemed deafening.

  Lone, who was still sitting down by her feet, frowned and cocked his head.

  “Do you hear a…buzzing sound?” he asked, wrinkling his brow.

  “No, I don’t hear anything.” Lizabeth shifted away from him again, which cause the bullet to move inside her pussy. She was beginning to feel like she might go insane if she didn’t get the damn thing out soon!

  “No, I’m sure I hear something,” Lone insisted.

  “Probably nothing. So Yonnie Two sounds not unlike Yonnie Six,” Lizabeth said quickly, talking loudly to cover any possible noise. “Female-dominated, matriarchal society. Only instead of Mistresses and slaves, there are teachers and students.” She shrugged. “I can do that and if you don’t mind playing my student or Novice, I’m sure you can too.”

  “It’s not a problem for me,” Lone said. “I’ve been in contact with the Mistress Superior, Lady Verlandah. She’ll send out a welcome party to lead us up to the Tower as soon as we call and tell her we’re on the way.”

  “Good.” Lizabeth nodded decisively. “Then let’s do it.” Getting off the couch quickly, she stood and put some distance between herself and her assistant. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better pack.” She paused. “Uh, what kind of clothes should I bring?”

  “None,” Lone said
seriously, rising as well. “They don’t allow new initiates and Novices to bring anything from the outside world that might distract them from their quest for knowledge.”

  “Well what—are we supposed to go naked? Because that would be kind of a deal-breaker for me.” Lizabeth put a hand on her hip.

  Lone’s pale gray eyes flickered over her body, taking in her too-full breasts and hips before coming back to meet her eyes.

  “No, they’ll provide robes for both of us. That’s covered by the price of admission.”

  “The price of admission, hmm?” Lizabeth raised an eyebrow. “And how much is that?”

  “It’s quite substantial,” Lone admitted. “But don’t worry—the Kindred High Council is footing the bill. They want you to be well-versed in Yonnite law when our case finally gets into their courts.”

  “Well, then we’d better not waste their money,” Lizabeth said briskly. “Better get packed. I mean—I have to at least bring a few things for taking notes.” As well as her breast pump and vibrator, though currently it was about to drive her crazy.

  Lone looked doubtful. “I don’t know what will be allowed. As I said, there are some hidden customs and conventions. The Tower of the Higher Mind is its own little subculture within a culture.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” Lizabeth was starting to feel desperate. Her breasts were extremely full and achy again and though the vibrator wasn’t pressed against her clit, her pussy still felt swollen and hot. She needed to come.

  Lone raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Am I to take it I’m dismissed then…Mistress?”

  “Well, I…I have a lot to do if we’re leaving tomorrow,” Lizabeth said. “Why? Did you need something else?”

  “I just thought maybe we could have Last Meal together, like we used to,” Lone said simply. “I’ve missed your company.”

  Lizabeth felt like she was melting from the inside out. The truth was, she’d missed Lone too. Not sharing her day with him the past two weeks had been a kind of torture—an unhappy experiment in loneliness. But if she didn’t get this damn vibrator out of herself and get some sexual relief soon, she felt like she was going to explode.

  “I’m really sorry, Lone,” she said as gently as she could. “I…I’ve missed you too. But if we’re really leaving tomorrow morning, I have a lot to do. I probably won’t eat dinner at all.”

  “I see.” He looked down for a moment, studying the toes of his high black boots. “Lizabeth,” he said at last. “When are you going to forgive me?”

  “Forgive you? Forgive you for what?” But even as the words left her mouth, she knew what he was talking about.

  Lone looked at her, his eyes unhappy.

  “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have done…what I did. The Goddess knows how sorry I am. I thought…I told myself I was helping you. But now—”

  “Lone, it’s all right.” She went to him swiftly and put a hand on his arm. “Honestly, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m not mad at you. You…you helped me. That’s all.”

  “Then why are you shutting me out?” he demanded in a low voice. “Why are you pushing me away?”

  “I’m not,” Lizabeth protested, knowing it was a lie. But what could she say? That being too near him—that even thinking of him—made her breasts start making nectar like she was a damn juice factory? That inappropriate fantasies of him constantly crowded her head?

  Being near him now was difficult in a way it hadn’t been before. Before she’d been able to tell herself she didn’t really desire him because it was completely inappropriate. Now her body refused to believe the lie her mind was telling—it told its own truth and there was no way for her to ignore it.

  “You are,” Lone said quietly. He sighed. “I must go. It’s time to feed Beaker anyway.”

  Beaker was his pet jikem—a Twin Moons creature that looked a little like a cross between a raccoon and a cat. Lizabeth knew from her research that loners—Twin Kindred who had lost their brother—were often given a jikem to act as a kind of substitute for their lost sibling because they were very intelligent and empathetic. She had met Beaker when she visited Lone’s suite from time to time and she liked the furry little animal, who was fond of jumping on her shoulder to sniff her hair and hum softly in her ear.

  “Oh,” she said. “Can you bring him with you to Yonnie Two?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Lone shook his head. “But I’ve already arranged with the sons of my friends, Helps Much and Speaks True, to come and feed him and play with him every day while we’re gone. He’ll be happy enough—he loves young ones.” He headed for the door. “I’ll go now. Meet me at the Docking Bay at o-eight hundred hours.”

  “All right. Um…goodnight,” Lizabeth said, rather lamely. She felt bad about the way they were parting. She ought to invite Lone to stay for dinner, as she often had before The Great Needing had occurred. Not that she was a fabulous chef but Lone was and he was just as happy to cook in her suite as his own.

  But the heaviness and aching in her breasts and the swollen need between her thighs stopped her. She couldn’t wait through a leisurely dinner to take care of the needing that was pressing down on her like a heavy boulder, so hard she could barely breathe.

  “Good night,” Lone said as the door slid open.

  “See you in the morning.” Lizabeth watched guiltily as the silver door panel slid closed with a muted whoosh.

  Then she ran to the bedroom as fast as she could to take care of business. God, she thought uneasily as she hooked her aching, leaking nipples up to the breast pump’s suction cups again. Hope I have privacy at that Tower place so I can take care of myself when I need to.

  But hadn’t Lone said the entrance fee was substantial? Surely that would include a private room. Then she slid her fingers into her aching pussy and every other thought left her mind as she reached mindlessly for release. Her orgasm, when it came, was as sharp as a shipwreck. But though her back arched and she groaned aloud with the painful pleasure, Lizabeth still ached with need.

  It wasn’t enough—it was never enough—and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand to live like this.

  Three

  What an idiot you are, telling her you miss her, Lone told himself savagely as he strode back to his own suite. All you succeeded in doing was making her even more uncomfortable than she already is around you!

  He remembered Lizabeth’s body language—the way she’d been sitting with her thighs pressed together and her slim fingers knotted tensely in her lap. Everything about her had screamed don’t touch and yet, Lone hadn’t been able to keep himself from touching her.

  Kneeling at her feet…kissing her hands…reciting the Novice’s oath…how pathetic it must have seemed to her. But the truth was, he hadn’t been able to help himself. After two weeks of barely seeing her, Lone was hungry for her—for her gentle touch, the soft, sweet alto of her voice, the warm scent of her skin…

  He wondered for the hundredth time if Lizabeth had any idea how beautiful—how absolutely, heart-stoppingly gorgeous—she was. He could watch her for hours—the way her changeable eyes shifted from gray-blue to silvery-green, depending on what she was wearing…the soft sweep of her long, dark, wavy hair over her shoulders…the lilting music of her laugh…

  Listen to yourself, he told himself angrily. You sound pathetic! What happened to the male who never had a sexual thought or feeling in his life? What happened to the male who wanted to devote his whole existence to learning the letter of the law?

  But Lone knew the answer to that—Lizabeth Paige had happened.

  He could still remember the first day she had walked into his life. She’d been preparing for a case in the World Court. A human male had brought suit against the Kindred after he had attacked a woman who was bonded to a Beast Kindred warrior. The Beast Kindred had ripped off the man’s genitals and forced him to eat them—which was a just punishment for sexual assault, in Lone’s point of view. Somehow the human male had survived a
nd had sued the Kindred, even though the warrior had only been protecting his mate.

  It was a high-profile case which could determine the fate of the Kindred as they related to the people of Earth. The High Council had decided they needed the best, most knowledgeable Councilor possible defending them against the charges that had been brought and that was Lizabeth Paige. Lizabeth was famous for her courtroom style and the fact that she almost never lost a case, even in the notoriously difficult World Court.

  After much deliberation, the Council had chosen Lone to both assist her and help her learn the nuances of Kindred law as it related to Earth law. Lone had been one of many applicants—there were no shortage of warriors who wanted to work with the esteemed Councilor Paige. He’d felt honored to be picked from so many but even after the High Council approved him, he’d still had to have an interview with Lizabeth, to make certain their personalities meshed.

  Lone remembered feeling irritated at the extra step, which had been stipulated by Lizabeth herself. What did it matter how they felt about each other? They were going to be working together, not getting mated—and not like he could mate anyone without a twin brother to help him do it.

  He had waited in the interview room, tapping his fingers impatiently on the small wooden desk. This was just another job to him—just a stepping stone on his way to becoming a legal Councilor in his own right. He expected it to take three solar months—maybe four tops—and then he could move on, move up the ladder again. All he cared about was the law and learning as much of it as he could.

  His studies consumed his life and why not? With no mate or children to care for and no prospect of ever having either, he might as well devote himself wholly to his chosen profession. Also, where was the famous Councilor Paige? Why was she late? What was taking her so long? Where—

  And then Lizabeth Paige had stepped into the room, into his life…and into his heart.

  Lone still remembered that heart-stopping moment when she’d opened the door and stepped through, her long, dark hair a waving mass around her exquisite face…her changeable gray-green-blue eyes both beautiful and direct…her full breasts and curving hips…