Raised to Kill (Kindred Tales)

At that moment, Brand began singing with her. But he was singing the secondary part—the harmony as he called it. Allara could hardly believe it. For a moment, her voice wavered, but then she remembered that he had told her not to stop singing under any circumstances. Lifting her voice again, she continued to sing, though the feeling of the big Kindred’s Song mingling with her own sent sparks of desire racing through her body.

“Wilder than a river

Deeper than the sea

My love will always

Bring you back to me…”

They sang, every true note ringing out over the beach and the ocean below.

“Again,” Brand murmured and this time they sang their wedding song—as Allara was beginning to think of it—together from start to finish.

When it was over, she was nearly panting. The feeling of their Songs entwined was incredible—it was almost as though Brand had been kissing her slowly and tenderly all over her body—especially the sensitive tips of her breasts and the place between her legs.

“Oh, husband,” she gasped when the music was finished for the second time. “That was…I cannot begin to describe it!”

“Did it give you pleasure, baby?” Brand’s voice was low and hoarse with desire. “I know it did—I can smell your heat.”

“Oh, I…” Allara shook her head and pressed her thighs together tightly, embarrassed by this.

But Brand shook his head.

“No, baby—don’t be ashamed. I’m just trying to show you that turning you on turns me on. Giving you pleasure gives me pleasure.”

“And…tasting me would give you the same pleasure as singing the secondary part with me just now, when our Songs mingled?” Allara asked.

“Exactly, baby.” Brand’s eyes went half-lidded with desire as he led her back into their room. “Pressing my face between your beautiful thighs with your legs over my shoulders and your soft little hands in my hair while you pant and moan and come all over my face as I tongue your soft little pussy—what greater pleasure could there be?”

Allara bit her lip. She was still filled with desire and need after their “duet” as Brand called it when two Songs mingled. But the shyness remained.

“But what if I cannot…be open for you as you wish me to? What if I cannot allow myself to let go and feel the pleasure?” she asked in a small voice.

“Then we’ll take things slowly,” Brand promised her. “In fact, I don’t even have to kiss your bare pussy to start with.”

“You…you don’t?” Allara asked, rather breathlessly.

“No, baby.” He shook his head. “We can start with me kissing your panties, so you feel all covered up and safe. What do you think about that?”

Allara bit her lip, still a little uncertain. But she had to confess, she was intrigued.

“You mean…the panties I have on now?” she asked him. They had been dressed up for their first state dinner with the Darden Prime Minister and she was wearing a brand-new outfit—with a brand new pair of panties—which Kat had given her.

The dress she had on had a plunging neckline and a split up the front that went almost to her mid thighs. It was made of a velvety black material which clung to her curves and highlighted her figure to best advantage.

The panties that went with the dress were likewise black velvet—both inside and out—which rubbed pleasurably against her pussy. The idea of Brand kissing them was by no means unpleasant. Because, of course, he wouldn’t be kissing her bare pussy, she thought, which meant it wouldn’t be so bad. So…forbidden.

“Of course the panties you have on now, baby,” Brand murmured, his golden eyes half-lidded. “Would you like to let me kiss them—just a little—to get you used to the idea?”

Allara bit her lip, the two voices warring inside her again. One—her aunt’s—was telling her how evil and wrong she was to even consider it. But the second—her own voice—was saying that she ought to let go of the ways of the Q’ess and please her husband and herself instead. After all, she would never see her father or her aunt or anyone else of her people ever again. So she might as well embrace the ways of her new husband’s people—embrace the ways of the Kindred.

“Yes, husband,” she said, listening to the second voice, as she had been more and more lately. “I would like for you to kiss my panties. If…if you want to.”

“I would, baby—very much,” Brand growled. And dropping to his knees, he lifted her dress to bare her panties and pressed his mouth to them in a long, reverent kiss.

Allara could feel his hot breath against her sensitive clit right through the soft scrap of fabric which barely covered her mound. His big hands molded to her hips, urging her to spread her thighs wider for him, which Allara did almost without thinking.

“Oh, husband!” she breathed, bracing her hands on his broad shoulders as he knelt before her. “Oh that feels so…good.”