It had definitely been working on her earlier. During their slow dancing, she had melted against him and he had scented her desire. In the days to come, they would need to do a lot more of that kind of thing. Dancing, cuddling…anything that brought their bodies into contact and allowed his scent to work on her was good.
But for tonight, he was content just to hold her. She was so beautiful—so perfect and tiny and precious.
Though he had known her less than a day, Brand was already in love.
Fifteen
Allara was having the most amazing dream. A Song was touching her intimately, caressing the tight points of her breasts and the forbidden spot between her thighs.
She gasped and arched her back as the deep, resonant notes teased lightly at her secret places. She knew it was wrong but it felt so right. It made her want to touch herself, as she had after the moun horn trio had played at the Song House.
I shouldn’t, she thought sleepily. What if Aunt catches me again?
But she was under the covers—safe from spying eyes. No one could see her if she just stroked that one special spot—the tender little bump between her legs that felt so good—just once or twice, could they?
Allara didn’t see how they could. Slowly, her hand crept down between her thighs. For some reason she wasn’t wearing the long, itchy, woolen nightgown she usually wore to bed. Instead, something soft and silky covered her, but only to the tops of her thighs. She pulled it up and cupped her mound as the Song continued to caress her. It felt so good, she couldn’t help parting her legs and letting her fingers slip between the swollen lips of her sex.
Shouldn’t do this—shouldn’t do it!
But, oh—it felt so good. Especially when she stroked that one spot—the one that made her breath come short and her heart speed up when she stroked it. And all the while, the Song went on and on, touching and caressing her even as she was touching and caressing herself.
It’s all right, Allara told herself as she stroked the delicate little button. It’s all right, it’s only a dream. You can’t do wrong in dreams…
Suddenly the Song got louder—closer.
Allara’s eyes flew open—this was no dream! She was on the Kindred Mother Ship and she was still alive because she had failed to complete her mission the night before.
At that moment, the door to the bedroom opened and Brand came in, carrying a tray and humming tunefully, his Song filling the air every bit as much as the warm, sweet scent of whatever he had on the tray.
“Oh!” Allara gasped and yanked her hand away from her forbidden area.
His golden eyes grew wide for a moment, then he winked at her in apparent understanding.
“Hmm, starting the morning off right, were you, sweetheart?” he rumbled, giving her a knowing smile.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.” Allara curled her hand into a fist, her heart pounding against her ribs. Would he beat her like her aunt had? Would he be angry at her for touching the place on her body which should be reserved exclusively for her husband?
But Brand didn’t look angry.
“Sure you know what I mean,” he rumbled. Setting the tray down on the dresser, he came to sit on the side of the bed closest to her. “Let me see your hand,” he said.
One could not disobey one’s husband but Allara tried. Shrinking away from him, she offered him her heart hand—her right hand—not the hand she’d been using to bring herself illicit pleasure.
He took her hand, kissed it, and returned it to her.
“Now give me the hand you were using when I walked in,” he murmured, raising an eyebrow at her.
Heart pounding against her ribs, Allara extended her trembling left hand.
“I am so sorry, husband!” she babbled as he took her left hand in his much larger one and uncurled her fingers. “I was having such a strange dream—I think it was because I heard your Song, even in my sleep. I know it was not right but please—don’t beat me for it!”
“Beat you?” he frowned as he brought her fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Gods, I love your scent, baby!”
“You…you do?” Allara looked at him uncertainly.
“Almost as much as your taste,” he growled and the slipped her first two fingers into his mouth and began to suck them.
Allara watched, wide-eyed, as her new husband cleaned her juices off her fingers thoroughly.
“Mmmm.” He sounded like a male who had tasted some exotic delicacy and wants more of it. He looked Allara in the eyes. “Delicious, baby.”
Allara was stunned.
“So…you are not angry with me for…for touching my forbidden areas?” she asked at last.
“Why should I mind if you bring yourself pleasure?” He looked honestly mystified at the idea. “Of course, I’d rather share the pleasure with you, but I don’t mind if you want to take a little solo-action, baby. Everybody has needs, after all.” His golden eyes went half-lidded in a sleepy smile. “Besides, it’s fucking hot to think of you lying here petting your little pussy in our bed.” He kissed her hand once more before letting it go. “Did you get to come?”