The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel Page 7

  “Why are you crying?” he demanded. “Don’t you want to be healed?”

  Leaning over her, he gripped her by the wrist and peeled her arm away from her face, which was flushed from crying. Her big eyes, still swimming in tears, looked up at him and he saw that they were filled with terror.

  “Please,” she whispered, her breath coming in hitching little gasps. “Please just…just make it quick, all right? And p-please don’t bite me where I’m already…already hurt.”

  “Bite you where you’re hurt?” Need looked at her, still not comprehending.

  “Please don’t bite me where the…the stick already hurt me,” she begged with a little sob. “Please, can’t you just…just drain my blood from another spot?”

  “Drain your blood?” Need looked at her in horror. “Why in the Seven Hells would I want to drain your blood, girl?”

  “Because you’re a leach!” she cried. “A blood-sucker. What my grandmother’s people called a ‘vampire.’ You drink girls’ blood to stay alive—don’t you?”

  “What?” Need shook his head. “What would give you that idea?”

  “Y-your f-fangs,” she stuttered, pointing at his mouth. “So sharp! Please, my Lord, when you bite me just m-make it quick!”

  Goddess, she thought he was going to hurt her, Need suddenly realized! She had the idea somehow that he was going to bite her and drink her blood—no wonder she was shaking like a leaf!

  His heart, so long encased in stone, felt like it was cracking open at the realization. That she should fear him like this made him desperately want to reassure her—but he wasn’t sure what he could say to make things right.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to gather himself—tried to think of what to say, how to explain without hurting or scaring her even more.

  “Listen to me, girl,” he said at last, looking into her eyes. “I’m not a leach or a blood-sucker or a ‘vampire,’ whatever that is. I’m just half Blood Kindred, that’s all.”

  But this seemed to mean nothing to her. Need could tell from the way her eyes widened in fear that all she’d heard was the word “blood” and nothing more.

  “That doesn’t mean I want to bite you or…or drink your blood.” He couldn’t quite keep the revulsion out of his voice at this last idea. “Gods, no! My fangs aren’t for you, girl—they’re not for any female. Not anymore.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t…don’t understand.”

  “A Bl— a Kindred of my kind only uses his fangs to bite his mate,” he explained. “You’re not my mate, now are you?”

  She sniffed. “N-no,” she admitted. “But you own me—”

  “Yes, yes—I own you now. Stop reminding me,” Need said irritably. “The point is, my fangs aren’t for drinking blood—which is a disgusting idea by the way. They’re for injecting my essence.”

  “Your what?” He seemed to be getting through to her, Need thought. Some of the unreasoning fear had leaked out of her eyes to be replaced by a cautious kind of hope.

  “My essence. It’s a pale blue liquid secreted by my fangs,” Need explained. “It binds a Kindred’s mate to him when he injects it into her bloodstream. But it can also be used to heal small injuries and wounds. Look…”

  Reaching into his mouth, he stroked one long fang with his index finger, milking a small drop of essence from it. He held his finger out to the girl, letting her see the pale blue droplet on its tip.

  She eyed it uncertainly but at least by now she’d completely stopped crying.

  “Your…essence?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “Yes, that’s my essence.” Need nodded. “I’m going to use it to heal you—but not by biting you,” he explained quickly, before she could get the wrong idea again. “I’m just going to get some on my fingers and rub it into the sore places, where that damned stick thing tore you.”

  The memory made him want to growl in anger but he held back, not wanting the girl to think he was mad at her.

  “And…and that’s all you want to do?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Not bite me and not drink my blood or drain me dry and kill me?”

  “If I wanted to do all that, do you think I would have paid forty thousand credits for you?” Need pointed out dryly. “If I had to pay that much every time I wanted a meal, I’d have starved to death by now.”

  “Well…” He could see the realization dawning in her eyes. “Yes, I guess that’s true.”

  “Of course it’s true,” Need said firmly. “Now dry your eyes and take a deep breath. Everything is going to be all right and I’m not going to hurt you—I swear it by the Goddess.”

  Though Gods knew he had little enough to do with the Mother of All Life, he thought grimly. Still, her name was good enough to swear by.

  “All…all right.” She drew in a deep, trembling breath just as he’d instructed. “I’m sorry I accused you of such awful things, my Lord. I thought it was…was my time to die,” she whispered, looking up at him. “I should have died already, you know. And I thought that death was catching up with me.”

  “Well it didn’t and it won’t—not as long as you’re under my protection,” Need told her, though he wondered what she meant by saying she should have died already. It seemed a fatalistic point of view in one so young. Still, he didn’t have time to get into it now—he needed to heal her and then go set the course for their next destination. “Do you feel calmer now?” he asked the girl.

  She nodded, her long, curly hair swirling around her flushed cheeks with the motion. Gods, she really was distractingly lovely, he thought. He really wished she wasn’t—all of this would be so much easier if his stupid body hadn’t suddenly chosen to wake up and react sexually again. His fangs getting so long was a case in point—they’d nearly scared the poor girl to death and even now they throbbed in time with his shaft.

  But no matter what his body was saying, he was determined to heal her without hurting or scaring or abusing her.

  “I’m going to heal you now,” he told the girl. “Or you can heal yourself. Would you rather gather my essence with your fingers and put it where you’re hurt or do you want me to do it?”

  Either way it had to happen—he couldn’t have her limping around the ship in her current injured condition.

  The girl—Lan’ara, she’d said her name was—caught her lush lower lip between her small white teeth and seemed to consider the question. Her eyes flicked up to his for a moment as though she was trying to read him—to find out what he wanted her to say.

  “Either way is fine with me,” Need told her. “I won’t be angry if you don’t want me touching you there.” He nodded to the area between her thighs, which was still visible since the towel she was wearing was pulled up.

  Her dark eyes flickered over his face, then down to his hands, the up again and lingered on the points of his fangs—which really had grown extremely long and sharp, Need thought, exasperated all over again with his stupid body for suddenly betraying him like this.

  “Well?” he asked again when she still didn’t answer.

  “You do it, my Lord,” she said at last. “If…if you don’t mind, that is.”

  “I don’t,” Need assured her. “And I swear I’ll be gentle, all right?”

  “All…all right.” She nodded and looked up at him from under her long lashes. “I…I trust you, my Lord.”

  “Well…thank you.” Need felt oddly pleased, though he told himself he didn’t care what she thought of him. “And I want you to know,” he said, “That I’m only going to touch you enough to heal you. I’m not going to, er…molest you, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

  His cheeks were hot as he said the words and he cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed.

  But the girl only shook her head.

  “How can you molest me when you own me?” she asked simply. “I am yours, my Lord—to do with as you please.”

  Then, as if to prove that she trusted him, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.

>   “I’m ready, my Lord,” she murmured softly. “Ready to be healed.”

  And then she spread her thighs for him.

  Eleven

  Lan’ara didn’t know what made her decide to trust the big Kindred. Maybe it was the straightforward way he explained what he intended to do, or the fact that he had given her a choice as to whether he should heal her or let her heal herself. Or maybe it was just that expression in his bronze eyes—the one she’d caught for only a fleeting instant that looked almost like compassion.

  But for whatever reason, she found that she no longer feared him and was, in fact, prepared to let him touch her, even in such an intimate area.

  I have to get used to it sooner or later, she reminded herself. He owns me now—owns my body. He will do as he pleases with it.

  This seemed like as good a way as any to start. At least he would only be putting his fingers in her. Not his…other parts.

  Lan’ara felt her lower abdomen tremble nervously as the big Kindred knelt between her legs, positioning himself at the foot of the bed, and rested his big hands lightly on her inner thighs. A tingling went through her and she felt her nipples and sex tighten in a kind of fearful anticipation.

  Would it hurt? She was already so tender down there…

  “Hey…” His voice made her lift her head a little and she saw that he was looking up at her. “Look at me,” he told her, when he was certain he’d gotten her attention. “Want you to watch what I’m doing, so you won’t be afraid.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara answered. Obediently, she propped her head up on one of the pillows, the better to watch his actions.

  “That’s good. Gently, now,” he murmured. But oddly enough, he didn’t dive right in immediately. Instead he spent some time stroking up and down her thighs, as though trying to soothe her.

  Strangely, it worked, and Lan’ara felt herself relaxing. Finally, when her breathing was slow and deep instead of tight and shallow, the big Kindred continued.

  “All right now,” he murmured. “Nice and easy…”

  Reaching between her thighs, he spread her pussy lips delicately with his thumbs. Lan’ara was embarrassed to see that her clit was still dark and swollen—probably from the royal blue wash blossom sucking on it earlier. Even worse, she was wet down there—slippery with her own secret juices.

  She felt her cheeks heat with shame at this mute evidence of her earlier lust, but she dared not try to close her legs. Instead, she watched as the big Kindred bent low and examined her, looking especially at her narrow entrance where the cruel, knobbly head of the stick had ripped the flesh as it forced its way inside.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he murmured and nodded, as if to himself. Then he looked up at her. “Going to need you to hold yourself open for me, girl,” he remarked matter-of-factly. “So I can treat this with my essence.”

  Cheeks still burning, Lan’ara reached between her thighs as he instructed and used her index and middle finger to hold her outer pussy lips open, showing her slippery inner folds.

  “That’s good.” He nodded again and then slipped his own index finger into his mouth and stroked one of his fangs again, just as he had earlier when he was showing her where his essence came from.

  This time he got a much larger amount—a substantial droplet of the pale blue liquid was transferred to the tip of his finger. Gently, he rubbed the essence into the torn place at her pussy entrance, his fingertip just barely invading her, as though he was touching her as little as possible, so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

  Lan’ara—who had been tensed, wondering if the essence would sting like some astringent cleanser—found herself relaxing at last. For rather than stinging, the blue liquid brought first a soothing, cooling sensation and then, right afterwards, a warming, healing heat.

  After he had finished rubbing the first droplet into her flesh, Need looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

  “All right?” he asked.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Lan’ara nodded. “It…it feels much better. Thank you.”

  She started to close her legs but he stopped her, one hand on her thigh and a frown on his face.

  “Hang on—you’re not healed yet, girl. I’ll need to rub a bit more into you to make the flesh knit back together completely.”

  “Oh, but…” Lan’ara parted her thighs again and looked uncertainly at his fingertip, which was glistening with her juices. “Don’t you, er, want to wash your hands first?” she asked uncertainly.

  She had been taught at Twyleth Tigg that most males—while expecting expert oral pleasure themselves—would not return the favor.

  “It’s demeaning and degrading for a man to get between your thighs, except with his shaft,” their Sexual Instruction teacher had lectured. “The men who buy Twyleth Tigg brides and concubines won’t lower themselves to such an emasculating activity. Besides, it’s distasteful—especially for those of you who produce copious amounts of nether-juice. You know who you are,” she’d added and Lan’ara had felt singled out somehow, even though the instructor had been speaking to the room at large.

  All the girls at the academy had been tested, of course, to be certain they made “adequate lubrication to allow penetration”—it was just another part of the physical exam which had to be conducted to be certain a girl was fit to be a Twyleth Tigg bride.

  After this test—which involved a slim, blunt probe which entered her sex and stopped just shy of her maidenhead—Lan’ara had been told she produced “an overabundance” of natural lubrication. This was the reason she had been so embarrassed when the big Kindred first spread her open and saw how slippery and wet she was inside.

  Now his finger was wet too—wet with her juices. And she was certain he’d want to clean his hands before he stroked his fangs again to get more essence to heal her.

  But to her surprise, Need only looked at her and shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling with the movement.

  “It’s just pussy honey, girl,” he said roughly. “No Kindred worth his salt minds the taste of that.”

  As though to prove his point, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked it clean before stroking his fangs once more to produce another drop of essence to rub into her flesh.

  He repeated the process numerous times, slowly circling the entrance to her pussy with one gentle finger and Lan’ara found that the warmth from his essence was spreading. She felt a strange stirring inside—almost like a flower opening between her thighs. A very thirsty flower that longed to be watered, though how she didn’t know.

  What was happening to her? And what had caused it? Was it his essence? Or the gentle way he continued to caress all around the entrance of her pussy, making certain she was completely healed?

  Lan’ara didn’t have any idea, she only knew that her pussy had begun throbbing again, just as it had when the wash blossoms were sucking her, and she wanted more of the big Kindred’s touch—much more.

  “Please my Lord,” she whispered breathlessly. “Would you…could you heal other places too?”

  “Other places?” He looked up at her, his eyebrows raised. “What other places, girl?”

  “My…er…” Lan’ara wasn’t certain quite how to put her request. “Earlier, when the wash blossoms were…were cleaning me,” she said. “They…that one that was…was stuck between my thighs…”

  “Ah—the one that was sucking your sweet little pleasure button.” He nodded, frowning. “Go on—did it hurt you?”

  “Well…” Lan’ara bit her lip. “You…you can see for yourself how…how irritated it is,” she said at last.

  Gods, was she really asking him to do this? To touch her in such a secret spot? What was wrong with her, inviting such attentions? And yet somehow she couldn’t seem to stop. The hungry feeling between her legs wouldn’t let her.

  “I did think so.” The big Kindred nodded. “But I wasn’t sure…I didn’t want you to feel I was, uh, abusing you,” he finished at last, and cleared his throat.

  “You’re not,”
Lan’ara assured him quickly. “Please, my Lord…” She shifted her hips and parted her outer pussy lips just a little wider, exposing her inner folds more fully to him. “If you don’t mind…”

  “Of course I don’t mind healing you, girl,” he growled. “Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you?”

  He placed his finger in his mouth again, lapping away her pussy juice before milking another drop of pale blue essence.

  This time he rubbed the droplet in a gentle circle, not into the entrance of her pussy, but directly around the throbbing button of her clit.

  Pleasure shot through her and Lan’ara had to bite back a moan. Her hips twitched and she caught her breath as she leaned into his touch, her body begging for more.

  He stopped for a moment, frowning.

  “All right?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Did I hurt you?”

  “N-no my Lord,” Lan’ara panted. “In fact, it’s starting to feel better. But I think…if you could just…just give me a little more?”

  His gaze softened.

  “Of course I will, girl. As much as you want.”

  He milked another droplet from his fangs and began the slow circling again, his other hand still stroking her inner thigh, as though to help her relax and open for him.

  This time Lan’ara couldn’t quite hold back the soft little moan of pleasure that escaped her lips. The feeling of a hungry flower opening inside her seemed stronger than ever and she was beginning to get that feeling again—the feeling of climbing up a mountain to reach some unknown summit.

  “Oh,” she whisper-moaned as the big Kindred continued to circle her throbbing clit. “Oh, yes, my Lord. That’s where it hurts—right there. Please…please don’t stop healing me!”

  “No, I won’t stop.” His deep voice sounded slightly strangled but he continued to stroke her inner folds, pausing only occasionally to suck his fingers clean and get more essence.

  Lan’ara felt so strange—so strange and so incredibly good. Part of her couldn’t believe that she was doing this. Only minutes ago she’d been convinced the big Kindred was a vampire who wanted to drink her blood. Now she was lying on his bed, spread completely for him as he stroked her open pussy over and over in those slow, mesmerizing circles that seemed designed to make her go crazy. And all she wanted was more. More.