“I won’t touch you,” he told her. “Not in that way—not in any way. Not again.” He frowned. “And since the fucking wash blossoms won’t leave you alone, we’ll just have to find another way for you to bathe. Maybe the old sonic shower in the back of the ship. That should do, at least until we can get you to Genu Six.”
For some reason, Lan’ara felt her heart sinking. Which was ridiculous. She ought to be happy he was swearing not to touch her—she needed to be pure to be acceptable to Senator Pouncenblast.
But she couldn’t seem to help herself—the craving for the big Kindred’s touch was satiated for now, but it seemed to linger inside her. The way she felt reminded her of the furled wash blossoms—replete for the moment, but never far from searching for their next meal.
But of course, she could never tell the big Kindred that.
“Yes, my Lord,” she said dully. “Thank you, my Lord.”
“You don’t have to thank me for not abusing you, girl,” he said roughly. “Not when I’ve already done it by touching you intimately twice.”
“You didn’t really, though,” she protested. “The first time you were healing me. And the second time, I…” She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks get hot. “I asked you to suck me…my nipple, I mean.”
“Still shouldn’t have done it.” A look of determination came over his strong features. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Lan’ara whispered again.
“Get dressed. Er…get yourself together.” He made a motion to the still-open front of her shirtdress. “It’s time for Last Meal and you’ll have to come with me—I couldn’t get you out of it.”
“All right.” Lan’ara began buttoning the bronze shirtdress slowly but inside her mind was churning.
Already she could feel the hungry flower inside her unfolding its petals—already her skin was craving the feel of his big hands caressing her. What was happening to her? She had never had such cravings before. Could there have been something in the shots the nurse from the academy gave her that was causing this?
Lan’ara didn’t know. And now that the big Kindred had sworn never to touch her again, she had no idea how she was going to feed the cravings that had somehow been awakened within.
Sixteen
So much for your earlier vow, whispered a little voice in the back of Need’s head as he watched the girl button the uniform shirt up, finally covering the full, ripe mounds of her breasts. Breasts he already longed to cup and suck again.
No!
He pushed the desire aside and looked away from her. It was time to stop thinking of touching the girl and start planning how he was going to get rid of her. She absolutely could not stay aboard The Dark Star one solar day longer than was necessary. Having her too near was dangerous—both for his self control and for his peace of mind. He hadn’t been tempted by a female in over ten cycles and now look at the way he was acting! Yes, the girl definitely had to go.
But first he had to take her to Last Meal.
“Are you ready?” he asked, snatching a glance at her.
She was examining herself anxiously in the viewer.
“I think so.” She looked up at him, her gold-flecked eyes wide. “Do I look pleasing enough to meet your shipmates, my Lord?”
Need took in her full curves, hugged lovingly by his bronze uniform shirt, her long waterfall of curly gold and black hair, and her big, dark, gold-flecked eyes. The sight of her affected him—made his shaft throb for release in the tight confines of his flight leathers.
The primal urge made him angry with himself all over again.
“You look fucking gorgeous,” he said roughly. “But I’m sure you know that. And as for meeting my shipmates, you’ve already met Drung.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “I trust I don’t have to tell you to stay away from him?”
Her face went pale.
“No, my Lord,” she whispered. “I don’t…don’t want to get anywhere near him.”
“Good.” Need nodded in satisfaction. “Other than that fucking Trollox, the rest of the crew isn’t hard to get along with. Come on.” He sighed as he nodded towards the door. “I’ll introduce you.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Lan’ara nodded her head submissively.
“And please try not to call me that in front of the rest of the crew,” Need growled. I’ll never hear the end of it if everyone thinks I’m making you bow and scrape to me. It’s bad enough that I bought a slave girl in the first place.”
“Yes, my…all right,” the girl answered. “But what should I call you?”
“I told you before, girl—just call me by my name—Need,” he told her in exasperation.
“It seems so disrespectful to call you by your first name, though,” she objected.
“Why? Because they taught you at that fancy school you went to that you had to flatter a male’s ego to make him like you?”