Raised to Kill (Kindred Tales)

His muscles bulged and the fabric came apart with a violent motion and a loud ripping sound that startled Allara with its frightening suddenness. Her bare breasts spilled out of the silver material and her sex, with its small patch of soft indigo curls was exposed as well.

Allara’s first impulse was to cover herself, but she knew she could not. Rather than trying to hide herself from her giant husband, she must entice him to take her. Quickly, before she could lose her nerve, she stripped off the rest of the dress and knelt, naked on the bed, before him.

“I…I am yours, husband,” she said, her voice shaking only a little. “Do with me what you will.”

“Gods…” The big Kindred’s voice was low and hoarse as his golden eyes roamed over her exposed body.

Allara’s eyes were roving over his body as well. They stopped on the long, hard bulge she saw in his tight black trousers. Was that his shaft—the thing her aunt claimed all men had, that they shoved inside of women once they had married them?

It’s huge! she thought, staring at the bulge. How will he ever fit it all into me?

“You must expect to bleed,” her aunt’s voice whispered in her head. “It will be quite painful but you must endure it.”

The thought was so frightening that Allara almost lost her nerve.

Quickly—I must do this quickly or I will not be able to do it at all!

She must get him to ram himself inside her before her will to complete the mission dissolved completely—but in what position did such things happen? Suddenly, she remembered her aunt mentioning the canis at play. Allara had seen them several times, the male behind the bitch, as though trying to climb onto her back. Maybe that was how these things went.

Taking a deep, shivering breath, she turned and got to her hands and knees. Spreading her legs wide, she presented herself and waited for her new husband to jam the huge shaft she had seen pulsing between his thighs into her tight, untried sex.

I must bear it, she told herself grimly. No matter how much it hurts, I must bear it!

While she and Brand were “slow-dancing” the prospect had not seemed quite so scary—possibly because his Song and his scent were both working on her at once. But now he was no longer humming to her and she could no longer smell his scent, as she was facing away from him. Her body—which had felt warm and pliant, almost languid with need before—was now cold and stiff. She shivered, tense and unhappy, as she waited for the inevitable.

“Allara? Baby?” Brand’s deep voice sounded uncertain, as though he was questioning her actions. “What are you doing?”

“I…I am preparing to receive you, my husband.” Allara turned her head to look up at him and saw the quizzical expression on his face. Would he never get on with it? “I am open for you,” she made herself say. “You may take me now as…as a man takes a woman.”

“Allara,” he began, putting one big hand on her back.

“No!” Allara couldn’t help herself—when he touched her bare skin, she jumped away, scooting across the bed as fast as she could. It was as though her body acted without her brain—instinctively rushing to get away from a threat.

She huddled in the top right corner of the vast bed, the wooden headboard cold against her bare back. Knees pulled up to her chin, she fought with herself.

Stop it, Allara—what’s wrong with you? Stupid girl! Go back to him and offer yourself again at once! The voice in her head once more sounded like her aunt’s.

Allara answered it desperately.

I can’t—I don’t want to! I don’t want him in me—he’s too big! I don’t want to bleed! she thought wildly. Why can I not just kill him? Why must I let him hurt me first? Why—

“Allara? Sweetheart?” Brand’s deep voice cut through her chaotic thoughts and she looked up to see that he was just standing there, hands outspread as though he didn’t know what to do.

“For-forgive me, husband,” she stuttered, barely able to get the words out because she was trembling so. “I…I know I must give myself to you. And I will—I swear it.”

She forced herself to go to him then, though it was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. Crawling on her hands and knees, she came back to the big Kindred and forced herself into the canis’ position again.

“Take me,” she whispered hoarsely. “Only please, husband—make it quick.”

“Allara, no.” The bed dipped and she looked over to see that he was sitting beside her, an unhappy look on his handsome face.

“N-no?” She shook her head, not understanding.

“No, I won’t take you this way. I won’t hurt you.”

“But you must!” Allara exclaimed. There was a sob in her throat that was trying to get out but she swallowed it down. “If you do not, I cannot…then we are not properly married,” she finally choked out.