The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel Read online

  Sensing the shift in his mood, Lan’ara sat back down quickly. Her body had to adjust all over again to the hot water but she kept her face carefully blank and only jumped a little bit when she felt the wash blossoms touching her under the surface again.

  “Good.” He nodded, still not looking at her. “Stay there and let the blossoms work on you. I’ll be back in a moment to get you out of the tub and tend to your injuries.”

  Then he turned and left the room abruptly, shutting the door behind him.

  Lan’ara watched him go, not knowing what to make of him. He acted like he didn’t want to look at her—and yet did want to look at the same time. Why was that? And for a moment it had seemed that he was considering her offer to pleasure him—but the next minute it made him mad. Again, why?

  He didn’t care to be flattered or called “my Lord” and he didn’t seem to want to use her body, she thought with despair. How could she possibly satisfy the big Kindred and make him want to keep her if everything she had been taught about pleasing a man didn’t work on him?

  Since she had no answer for her new owner’s strange actions, Lan’ara tried to turn her attention back to the bathwater and the wash blossoms.

  What else could she do?

  Seven

  Need paced back and forth across his quarters, running both hands through his hair in agitation.

  Damn it, what was wrong with him, ogling the girl like that?

  In the ten cycles since Cleah had died, he had been to too many planets to count. And in almost every spaceport there was a Flesh for Sale district—a place where a male could get his shaft sucked or fuck a willing girl for the right price or indulge in any other carnal desire he might have.

  Almost every single one of his shipmates availed themselves of the opportunity for a quick fuck nearly every time they landed. Well, except for Captain Glo’ll—Cytovins reproduced through asexual budding. But aside from him, every male on The Dark Star couldn’t wait to get a piece of ass the moment they landed. Hell, Drung sometimes went through three or four fuck-bots a night, since no living female in her right mind would try to accommodate the Trollox’s monstrous shaft.

  But despite all the licentious activity going on around him, Need had never been tempted once.

  It had seemed that when Cleah died, his sex drive died with her. He had no desire for any kind of female—no interest in sex of any kind, in fact. As a younger male he had often had very sexual dreams and woken up with his belly wet with his seed. But he hadn’t had a single lust dream in ten cycles. In fact, Need couldn’t even remember the last time he’d jerked off. He didn’t because he didn’t have to—didn’t need to.

  And yet now his shaft was aching in his trousers and all from the sight of a naked girl who offered herself, not out of love and devotion, but out of fear.

  Just the fact that he had looked at her with lust and admired her full breasts with their berry dark nipples, had imagined cupping her rounded hips with the neatly shaved mound of her pussy at their center, made him angry with himself.

  You’re disgusting, he told himself. Wanting that poor girl when she’s only offering to bed you because she’s frightened you’ll sell her back to those damn slavers.

  The thought of touching her ought to leave him cold.

  But somehow it didn’t.

  Instead, his shaft was throbbing for a long-overdue release and even stranger, his fangs had suddenly grown sharp again. They had been blunted for years—ever since Cleah died. Now they were sharp enough to cut his tongue on if he wasn’t careful, and he could taste the cool sweetness of his essence flowing from their tips again.

  Why now? Need asked himself in exasperation. Why after ten years of effortless celibacy is my desire suddenly coming back?

  It was probably only because the girl was naked and so close to him, he told himself uneasily. He wouldn’t have been tempted otherwise.

  Well then I hope you’re ready to be tempted again, a little voice in the back of his head whispered. Because you’re going to have to get close to heal her. You’re going to have to use your essence on her—there’s no other way to repair the injuries that damn stick did to her soft little pussy.

  He had a vivid mental image again of himself between her thighs, lapping gently at her sex. But no—Need pushed the picture away. He wouldn’t do that—wouldn’t heal her that way. He might have to use his essence—there was no other way to get the torn flesh to knit back together. But he would use his fingers to apply it, not his tongue.

  And after that, he wouldn’t touch her again, Need swore to himself. He’d have nothing to do with her. And eventually, he would get her back to where she’d come from and never have to see her again.

  That would be the best thing for both of them, he told himself.

  He was sure of it.

  Eight

  The dark blue, bell-shaped flowers of the wash blossoms had a unique way of cleaning, Lan’ara observed. They used a light suction to attach their tiny petal mouths to her skin and then skimmed along her limbs and torso, sucking away any dirt or dust they found.

  After she got used to the sensation, she found it was actually very refreshing to allow the wash blossoms to clean her and she settled back in the tub to let them do their job.

  The thing was however, the blossoms didn’t seem to distinguish between ordinary body parts like arms and legs and more sensitive areas like her breasts and between her thighs.

  Lan’ara sucked in her breath at the strange sensation of the blue blossoms sucking delicately at the tight tips of her nipples and the sensitive flesh of her sex. Somehow one of them even found its way between her pussy lips and fastened its little sucking mouth to the throbbing button of her clit.

  She wondered if she ought to remove the blossoms—they were making her feel extremely strange in ways she knew she shouldn’t like. Her body was for her owner’s enjoyment—not her own—she shouldn’t be getting pleasure from this. In fact, she was certain she wouldn’t be, if the soft little wash blossoms had fastened onto the spot lower down where she was wounded. But somehow they knew to avoid that area and only cleaned her where she was well.

  I ought to make them stop, Lan’ara told herself. But the big Kindred had told her to let the blossoms do their work on her—had this been what he meant? What if he was trying to get her ready for his advances and he wanted her to let the blossoms pleasure her?

  The situation was very confusing and made more so by the fact that it was hard to think when she was being stimulated so constantly. Lan’ara hadn’t been allowed to touch herself at the academy—not that she would have dreamed of doing such a thing anyway. It had been considered dirty and wicked in her hometown—wrong for a girl to explore her hidden treasures and bring herself pleasure.

  The result was that these feelings were all new. Lan’ara had never felt like this before—had never experienced this slow building of sensations that seemed to well from deep within her as the soft little blossoms sucked at her with their velvety petal mouths.

  Shifting in the bathtub, she tried to bite back a moan. She felt almost as though she was climbing up a hill, getting closer and closer to some distant summit which would bring her more pleasure than she’d ever experienced before. And yet, she didn’t know if it was right to go on such a journey. Should she let herself be swept away with this strange, forbidden pleasure?

  Lan’ara didn’t know. She only knew she was feeling better and better and there didn’t see to be a way to stop it.

  Leaning back against the side of the tub, she arched her back and let out a soft moan as the pleasure climbed higher. Gods, it almost felt as though the one between her thighs was licking her. How was it doing that when it was just a flower? The two blue buds that were sucking her nipples were almost as bad— they had latched onto her and were nursing her ripe buds in tandem, making Lan’ara gasp and writhe in the warm water.

  Oh Goddess, she was close…so close to…to something. Lan’ara didn’t know what it was, bu
t she wanted to find out—wanted to find out so badly…

  It was at that moment that the fresher door opened again and Need walked into the room.

  For a moment, he just stood there, towering over her as he stared blankly. His bronze eyes flicked over her naked body, taking in the sight of Lan’ara leaned back against the tub, her eyes half-closed and her back arched in ecstasy with the royal blue wash blossoms sucking hungrily at her bare nipples.

  Lan’ara stared back at him, horrified at being caught. She felt frozen with fear and shame—like a little girl with her hand caught in the cookie jar. All the good feelings she’d been having wafted away like smoke and she bit her lip until it nearly bled.

  “Well,” Need said at last and cleared his throat. “I just came to check if you were finished…finished bathing.”

  “Oh, my Lord!” Lan’ara gasped, sitting straight up in the bath so quickly some water slopped over onto the floor. “Forgive me,” she babbled. “You told me to let the blossoms work on me and I didn’t know…that is, I wasn’t sure if this was what you meant or not.”

  “Well, they certainly seem to be ‘working’ on you, all right,” he remarked dryly. “Can’t say they’ve ever done that for me before.” He nodded down to where the royal blue blossoms were still attached to her nipples. “Maybe they have an affinity for females.”

  “I know it looks bad,” Lan’ara whispered. “Only…I was afraid to take them off. I thought you might want me to be pleasured, so you could… That is to say, I wasn’t sure what to do,” she finished in a small voice.

  His gaze softened.

  “I’m not angry at you, girl, so you can stop staring at me like I’m going to bite your head off,” he said shortly. “Just detach the damn things and come with me. We need to get you dried off and then I have to heal you.”

  Lan’ara wanted to ask how he proposed to do that, but she didn’t dare say another word. Instead, she tugged carefully at the green and purple vine the wash blossoms sprouted from. After a moment, the suction on her nipples lessened and she was able to pull them loose.

  This technique didn’t work for the blossom between her thighs, however. No matter how she tugged, it remained stubbornly in place, molded around her clit and still sucking her.

  “What’s wrong, girl?” Need ask, frowning at her as Lan’ara struggled, red-faced and desperate, with the stubborn vine.

  “Nothing, my Lord,” she said hastily. “Only a blossom that doesn’t…doesn’t want to come loose,” she added, tugging as she spoke.

  “Let me see.” He made a motion for her to stand. “Go on, girl—I won’t hurt you,” he added, clearly seeing her fear and embarrassment at his direction.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara whispered. Feeling mortified, she rose, dripping and wet in the middle of the tub, and let him look at her.

  “Ah yes—I see,” Need rumbled after a moment as he looked between her thighs to where a particularly large royal blue wash blossom was still sucking hungrily at her throbbing clit . “Really latched onto you, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara whispered again. She felt as though she was blushing all over her body at the same time. This was dreadful! Worse than being caught touching herself, because at least she could have stopped and pulled her hand away. But nothing seemed to make the flower that was sucking her clit quit its illicit activity.

  “Here,” Need told her, reaching between her thighs. “Let me take care of this.”

  Lan’ara tried not to flinch from his big hand, but he didn’t touch her at all—only pinched the persistent flower at the base of its blossom, causing it to finally let go.

  Lan’ara gave a sigh of relief when the flower finally came free. She pressed her thighs together instinctively, wanting to hide her sex, and then gave a little hiss between her teeth when the motion hurt her injured flesh.

  The big Kindred frowned.

  “Come on—it’s clear you’re still in pain,” he told her. “Let’s get you dried off and healed up.”

  He helped Lan’ara out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy towel around her. Lan’ara thought she had never been so glad to be covered in her life. She knew she would have to try and get used to having her new owner’s eyes and quite possibly his hands and mouth on her naked body, but a lifetime of modesty was difficult to overcome.

  “This way,” Need told her gruffly, once she was dry, and led her back into the bedroom. “All right,” he said. “Now lie down on the bed and spread your legs for me.”

  Nine

  Lan’ara began to do exactly as he said, but then she looked up and caught sight of his face. Or more specifically, his mouth.

  Oh my Gods and Goddesses, are those fangs?

  She bit her lip to stop a scream from spilling out. Earlier her new master had looked normal—well, extremely big and muscular but still like a regular man, except for his bronze eyes. But now he looked like a…

  “A blood-sucker,” she whispered before she could stop herself. “A leach.”

  “What?” He frowned at her, which hid all but the razor-sharp tips of his fangs—they were so long now, that they were clearly visible unless he closed his mouth completely.

  Lan’ara was certain he hadn’t had them before—she would defintely have noticed. Had he grown them just now, just for her, so he could bite her?

  “What’s that you’re saying?” he demanded and Lan’ara realized she hadn’t answered him earlier.

  “N-nothing m-my Lord,” she whispered, stuttering with fright.

  There were stories in her village about males like him—leaches who lived only by sucking the blood of innocent girls. They drained a body of its blood, leaving nothing but a cold corpse when they were done with their victim. Her grandmother’s people had called them “vampires.”

  Suddenly she understood why he had wanted her—and why he showed no interest in her offers to pleasure him.

  He bought me because he wants to drink my blood, she thought, feeling cold all over. Because he wants to drain me dry and eject my body into space.

  The thought filled her with terror—so much so that she started trembling. She couldn’t help remembering all the girls she’d seen die in the past few days. The one at the academy who’d had her brains blown out and the girl with the green skin and blood who’d been gutted as she tried to run from the slave ship.

  But at least it was fast for them, Lan’ara thought frantically. How long would it take to have all the blood drained from her body?

  And how much would it hurt?

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” the big Kindred demanded, breaking into her frantic train of thought.

  Looking from his fangs to his eyes, Lan’ara saw that there was an impatient look on his handsome face.

  “M-my Lord?” she managed to get out.

  “I told you to lie back on the bed and spread your legs for me,” he said, frowning. “So why aren’t you doing it?”

  Lan’ara felt like her very skin was trying to crawl off her body and run away.

  Not only did he want to sink those razor-sharp fangs into her and drink her blood—he wanted to drink it from the most sensitive area on her body! He was going to bite her exactly where she was hurt—she was certain of it. Probably because that place had already been wounded and the blood was close to the surface.

  She wanted to run but the big Kindred was between her and the door. She wanted to hide, but where could she go that he wouldn’t find her?

  A scene played out before her mind’s eye—she saw herself jumping off the bed and dodging around him, then running down the corridor of the ship and trying to make her way outside, back to the marketplace.

  And what will you do, even if you manage to get there? a little voice demanded in the back of her brain. Where will you go? You have nothing, Lanni—not even any clothes! How long do you think you’ll last out there, stark naked in a crowd of lustful, hungry males?

  She remembered the Torgians and their serrated smiles and the Xanther
who had claimed he would have her neck lengthened to match his own and force her to have surgery to make her inner parts accommodate his as well.

  Every way she turned there was death and rape and more death. Every way she went was a dead end—a blind alley she couldn’t get out of.

  Maybe this is just my fate, Lan’ara thought, trying to stifle a sob. I should have died in the fire with Mother and the little ones. I would have if I’d never left home. This is simply death catching up with me, taking what is his. That’s all.

  It was a thought that had come to her often, in the dark hours near morning, when she couldn’t sleep. I should have died with them. I shouldn’t be alive when everyone I love is dead.

  But despite such thoughts and the clear knowledge that her time was suddenly up, it was still hard to surrender to death. Still terribly difficult to lie back on the bed as her new master ordered and open herself for those needle sharp fangs.

  Still, somehow Lan’ara made herself do it. Lying back on the Kindred’s huge bed, she parted her legs and threw an arm across her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see what happened next.

  There was nothing to do now but accept her fate and hope that it wouldn’t hurt too badly.

  Ten

  What in the Seven Hells was wrong with the girl?

  Need watched in confusion as her gold-flecked eyes got wide as saucers and her entire body tensed when he told her to lie down so he could heal her. Then she started shaking and stuttering as though she’d been taken with some kind of palsy. Finally, when he insisted again that she lay down, she did as he said but threw an arm over her eyes as though to shield herself from seeing something awful.

  Why was she acting this way?

  “Girl?” he asked, frowning at the way she was trembling on the bed. What had she said her name was? “Lan’ara?” he tried again, but the only answer he got was a muted sob.

  Need didn’t understand. What was wrong with her?