The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride

“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.