Текст книги "Enslaved"
Автор книги: Anderson Evangeline
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Chapter Thirty-nine
“You’re sure about this?” Thrace looked at the small vial of blue medicine Commander Sylvan had handed him.
“Quite sure. Our Tolleg doctor, Yipper, has been working on it for months.” Sylvan nodded at the little person? Animal? Thrace wasn’t sure what he was but he was small and gray and furry and wore a white lab coat.
“Hello, hello,” he said to Thrace, nodding his furry head so rapidly it made his long floppy ears shake.
“Uh, hello.” Thrace nodded back at him.
“He actually used much of my own essence as well as that of other Blood Kindred who donated their time and essence to make it,” Sylvan said.
“And it does…what again?” Thrace raised an eyebrow at him but it was Yipper who fielded the question.
“It enables any Kindred male to make a protein in their saliva that acts as a healing agent. Yes it does, yes it does,” he said in his high, squeaky voice. “So that you can heal the female you are bonded to. Only her and no one else, you understand. Some of the Kindred already have this ability but others wanted it as well. Yes they did, yes they did. So I developed the Healing Compound for them.”
“But…I’m Havoc, not Kindred,” Thrace objected. “How do you know this will work on me?”
“Your DNA is almost the same as a Kindred’s—ninety-nine point nine percent the same. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded vigorously again. “You should have no problem metabolizing the compound. No you shouldn’t, no you shouldn’t.”
“So you’re saying I should drink this…and then I’ll be able to heal Trin?” Thrace was still skeptical.
“Yes, absolutely,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding firmly. “There should be no problem at all.”
“No problem, you say?” Thrace frowned. “Well, I can see a problem. Even if this works, what makes you think I’d be able to convince Trin to let me try it out on her? I can’t get through to her—not even using our bond. In fact…” He passed a hand over his eyes briefly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure if we have a bond anymore.”
Not that she’d want to be bonded to me—not now that she knows my past. They’d never really gotten to discuss what she’d learned about his first time as a slave back on Yonnie Six but Thrace thought they didn’t really need to. It was clear from her actions that she wanted to distance herself from him and while some of that was probably due to the awful things that had happened to her in the temple, he was certain that his own terrible past played a part in it too.
Sylvan frowned. “That could be a problem if the bond was completely destroyed. But if it’s only blocked, the compound can still be effective simply by removing the block.”
“You think I haven’t tried? You think I haven’t been reaching out to her, here on the ship?” Thrace demanded. “I don’t even think she feels me. I’m telling you, Commander, she wants nothing to do with our bond. In fact…” He took a deep breath. “In fact, I’ve decided to leave here. My own ship, The Empress, is still in dry dock on Padge and my first mate, Solar is missing. We were drugged and taken to the Flesh Bazaar to be sold as slaves at the same time. If I can’t help Trin, I might as well go and help him. If he’s even still alive.”
“Your duty to your friend and shipmate is admirable,” Sylvan said seriously. “But your duty to the female you are bonded to must take precedence.”
“And it would, if she still wanted me.” Thrace let his fingers wander up to touch the black collar he still wore. Then, with quick, decisive motions, he took it off and laid it on the chair beside him. “If she would let me in. But she won’t, so I have to go.” He looked down at the collar. “Knowing she’s just down the hallway but being unable to talk to her or see her or hold her…it’s too fucking painful.”
“I understand,” Sylvan said quietly. “The pain of a rejected bond is excruciating.”
“Which is why I have to go.” Thrace turned away. “In fact, you caught me in the middle of packing—not that I have much to pack. I was hoping I could borrow a shuttle—just until I get The Empress out of drydock. I—”
“Hello, Thrace.”
The soft, familiar voice startled him. He turned to see Trin standing in the doorway, a look of uncertainty on her face. She was wearing a white, sleeveless gown that showed the long, angry red welts which marred her creamy brown skin. Her eyes were huge and hurt-looking as they flicked first from his bare throat and then to the discarded black leather collar which lay on the arm of the chair beside him.
“Trin?” He took a step towards her but she shook her head and stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Your door was open so I thought…but if you’re leaving now, I won’t bother you. Don’t…don’t let me stop you.”
She turned but Thrace wasn’t about to let her go. In one stride he was across the room, taking her by the arm.
Trin winced and made a little sound of pain as his hand made contact with the welts on her skin.
“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Thrace dropped her arm hurriedly. “I just…didn’t want you to go.”
“Why not?” She turned to face him again. “You are.”
“I have to find my first mate, Solar. He was sold as a slave too,” Thrace reminded her. “And besides, you didn’t want to see me—didn’t want anything to do with me.” He tried not to let the hurt and frustration creep into his voice but it was hard. “Why are you even here?” he asked bluntly.
Trin bit her bottom lip. “To…to be healed,” she whispered. I was told that I needed to seek help and Commander Sylvan said he had something that might heal these…” She gestured to her welted skin. “But that you were the only one who could give it to me.”
“Indeed, and Yipper and I just came to drop it off.” Sylvan, who had been standing quietly to one side, nodded at the little vial of blue liquid Thrace still clutched tight in his hand. “In fact, I think we ought to leave you alone now.”
“The compound is best applied in private. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded vigorously.
“Good luck.” Sylvan put a hand on Thrace’s shoulder and squeezed briefly. “Come and see me after…one way or the other.”
“Thank you.” Thrace nodded and looked at the vial in his hand uncertainly.
“It becomes effective the moment you take it. Yes it does, yes it does,” Yipper told him and then he and the Kindred commander left, shutting the front door of Thrace’s guest suite quietly behind them.
Thrace sighed and looked down at the vial.
“Well, here goes.” He unscrewed the lid and put the vial to his lips, downing its contents in three quick swallows.
* * * * *
Trin stared at him blankly.
“What are you doing?” She shook her head. “Why did you drink the medicine that was supposed to be for me?”
“Why did I…oh Gods…You mean Commander Sylvan didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? What are you talking about?” Trin asked, frowning. “He just told me to meet him at your suite.”
“Gods…” Thrace went to the couch and sank down on it, putting his head in his hands.
“Thrace?” Trin went to him. Her hand hovered over his head but she didn’t quite dare to touch him, though she longed to bury her fingers in his thick, wild hair. “Did I ask the wrong question? What was Commander Sylvan supposed to tell me?”
“That the medicine he gave me wasn’t for you to drink. Or to rub on your wounds.”
“But then…how was it supposed to help me?” Trin shook her head, not understanding.
Thrace looked up at her, his silver-blue eyes blazing.
“It was for me to drink. It enables my body to make a healing compound I can apply to your cuts and abrasions.”
“Apply…how?” Trin was beginning to feel uncertain all over again.
“By licking you,” he said softly. “By bathing your hurt areas with my tongue. Apparently it’s the only way the medicine is effective.”
“I…I didn’t know that.” Trin edged away from him. “No one told me that.”
“Because I’m sure you wouldn’t have come if they had.” Thrace’s deep voice was hurt and bitter. “I know how you feel about letting me touch you intimately. Letting me taste you intimately—especially now that you know my past. I understand how wrong it makes you feel so I won’t even ask. I’ll just go.”
He turned away, presumably to get back to his packing. But something inside Trin couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t bear to watch him walk away—couldn’t let him leave not knowing when or if she would ever see him again.
“Thrace, wait.” Hesitantly, she reached for him and let her fingertips drift lightly over the back of his arm.
A visible shiver ran through him at her light touch. Turning, he faced her once more, a look of pain etched on his strong features.
“What is it, Trin?”
Trin bit her lip. Not “Mistress,” not “baby” just Trin. Was that all she was to him now? Had she pushed him away for too long? Would she ever be able to get him back?
“I…” She didn’t know what to say but she couldn’t remain silent. If she did, she would lose him forever.
“Yes?” Thrace asked impatiently. “What is it you want?”
“I want you to try it.” Trin lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid. Well…not much,” she added honestly.
Thrace sighed and went back to the couch. “I don’t even know if it will work. It’s supposed to be for bonded couples and you and I…I don’t even know if we’re bonded anymore.”
Trin looked down at her hands.
“I know I’ve been blocking you,” she whispered. “I started it for your own good—because I didn’t want to hurt you or drag you down with me. And now…now I can’t seem to stop.”
“Well…” He sighed again. “I guess you can’t help it—I don’t blame you after what you found out about me on Yonnie Six. Not to mention everything you went through in that fucking temple. Come here.” He gestured for her and Trin came to stand between his thighs.
She could feel the heat of his big body and the warm scent of his skin seemed to envelope her. He was wearing black leather trousers and a deep red long sleeved shirt which looked like the uniforms the Kindred wore. For a moment she was tempted to unfasten the buttons that held it closed and caress the strong chest she knew lay beneath…But she held back. Would her touch be welcomed? Or was Thrace still too angry with her to want anything to do with her?
“So you want to be healed?” he asked, taking her hand in his.
“I…I’d like you to try. If you don’t mind.” Trin could barely look him in the eye.
“I don’t mind.” His deep voice came out sounding rough.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Trin said quickly. “I mean, if you don’t want it to. You can…can still leave after if you want, of course. I wouldn’t presume to keep you.”
“You wouldn’t, huh?” He looked up at her, his pale eyes narrowed.
“No, of course not. After all…I have no hold on you anymore.” Trin let her fingers drift lightly to his throat, where the collar had been for so long. “I’m not your Mistress anymore. I’m nothing to you.”
“Oh, Trin…” He closed his eyes briefly and for a moment she almost thought she felt something through their blocked bond. Some deep current of emotion she couldn’t name. Then it was gone and when he looked up at her, his eyes were hard. “Fine,” he said flatly. “I’ll do my best to heal you and then I’ll be on my way.”
“All right.” She lifted her chin. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“That’s the way you want it.”
Before she could answer, he seized her hand in his and bent down as though he meant to kiss the back of it. Instead he licked it—dragging his tongue in a long, slow caress up her wounded arm, bathing the welts made by the hrakka in a single stroke.
“Oh!” Trin gasped. But it wasn’t just his gesture that surprised her—it was the cool tingling which immediately followed it—like a hundred tiny bubbles popping at the same time on her wounded skin.
Thrace stopped at once and released her.
“I’m sorry—did I hurt you?”
“No—it didn’t hurt, exactly.” Trin examined her arm. “It was more like a tingling sensation.”
“Did it work?” Thrace was staring at her arm too. As they watched, the long, red welts made by the cruel instrument of torture slowly began to heal. Trin gasped as she saw the red turn to white. After a moment the only thing left to show where the hrakka had marked her were four parallel scars, thin but visible white lines running up the smooth brown of her arm.
She looked up at Thrace.
“You healed me!”
“Not completely.” He frowned at the scars. “Let me try again.”
But though he licked her arm several more times, the scars didn’t fade.
At last, Trin drew back.
“I know the scars are ugly,” she said quietly. “But…well, at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. That’s wonderful.”
Thrace shook his head. “I just wish I could do more.”
“You can,” Trin said softly. “You can heal the rest of me…if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. But…” He hesitated, frowning again.
“But what?” Trin asked softly.
“Well, those marks…they’re all over your body.” He gestured at the white shift dress which covered everything but her arms and her feet. “I mean, if I remember right, they’re everywhere. Are you going to be all right with me licking you every place you need to be healed?”
Trin bit her lip.
It’s wrong…letting a male do that to you, it’s wrong and you know it. The ugly, judgmental voice—a voice that sounded very like the high priestess’s—was whispering in her ear, making it hard to think, hard to be brave. But then she remembered the light in Nadiah’s true green eyes when the Goddess spoke through her and lifted the blood curse. Take a deep breath, Trin gathered her courage.
“I want you to do it,” she said firmly. “I want to be healed.”
“All right.” Thrace rose from the couch and held out a hand to her. “Let’s heal you, then.”
Biting her lip, Trin put her hand in his and let him lead her into the sleeping chamber.
* * * * *
Thrace couldn’t believe she was going to allow him to do this—that she was willingly going to let him lick every inch of her sweet body. After what she’d learned about how his old Master had treated him on Yonnie Six, he’d been afraid she would never want him to touch or taste her again.
Don’t get too excited, he told himself sternly. After all, it’s not like she’s here asking to renew our bond. She just doesn’t want to live the rest of her life in fucking agony—that’s all. After this is over, you’ll part for good and you know it. Didn’t she say you were nothing to each other? So don’t read anything into it and don’t try to make it last. Just do what has to be done and let her go.
Let her go forever.
But despite the warnings he tried to give himself, he couldn’t help the wave of love and devotion that washed over him when she lifted the white dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She was so beautiful, so perfect even with the angry, red welts marking her skin. He wanted nothing more than to lavish her with kisses, to worship her body with his tongue, to heal her and make her whole…at least on the outside, which seemed to be all he could manage.
“Where…where do you want me?” Trin asked softly, lifting her chin. Thrace recognized the tremor in her voice and the steel in her eyes—she was trying to be brave. Trying to let him do this without losing her nerve.
“Sitting on the edge of the sleeping platform to start with,” he said gently. “We’ll go slow…as slow as you want.”
“All right.” She settled on the sleeping platform, making a soft noise of pain as the dark blue coverlet rubbed against the welts on her backside. Thrace made a mental note to attend to them soon but he wanted to start someplace safer first—someplace that wouldn’t make her feel threatened or uncomfortable.
Kneeling before her, he took her other arm, the one he hadn’t treated yet, and looked into her eyes.
“May I?”
“Please,” Trin breathed. “Yes, please do.”
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Thrace licked her second arm as he had the first, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over her skin, erasing the red welts that marked her.
As before she stiffened and gasped but when he raised his eyebrows at her—a silent question—she shook her head.
“It doesn’t hurt. It just…tingles.”
Thrace nodded as he finished with her arm. Gods, her skin tasted sweet—salty and fresh and completely delicious. Completely Trin. He knew that even if he was destined never to see her again, her taste and the soft little gasps that came from her throat as he healed her would stay in his memory forever.
At last he leaned back and looked at her.
“Legs next?”
Trin twisted her fingers together in her lap nervously.
“…all right.”
He could hear the hesitation in her voice. No doubt all the horrible rhetoric which had been pounded into her head while she was a prisoner at the temple was still there, poisoning her thoughts and emotions. But she was trying her best to overcome it—trying to let him help her without feeling guilty or wrong.
“How about everything but your inner thighs?” he asked and saw the relief flit across her face.
“Yes.” She smiled gratefully. “Yes that would be…that would be good.”
Thrace nodded and encircled one delicate ankle with his fingers. Gods, whoever had done this to her had been really thorough. The red welts ran in unbroken parallel lines from the graceful curve of her arch all the way up her thighs. Probably that bitch of a high priestess! He felt a rush of rage and wished for a moment that he could hurt the evil female the same way she’d hurt Trin—that he could make her pay for the wrong she’d inflicted. But there was no time for anger now—it wouldn’t help Trin for him to get worked up. All he could do was try to help her.
Taking a deep breath, Thrace pushed the useless anger aside and tried to concentrate on Trin. He lifted her lower leg to his mouth and began to lick…began to heal the female he loved so desperately as best he could.
Trin gasped and then sighed as he made his way slowly and methodically up her leg. He could feel her trembling beneath his tongue as he sealed the welts, turning them into nothing but scars.
Thrace only wished he could do more. She was beautiful to him—always beautiful—but the scars marred her soft brown skin, making a permanent reminder of what she had endured on her home planet. He wished he could erase them for that reason if no other—he didn’t want her to look down at herself and remember what had been done to her every time she saw her arms or legs…
And speaking of her legs, he was finished with them now. All but the area around her inner thighs which he had carefully avoided. He sat back and looked up at her, considering what to do next.
Trin looked back at him and the red scratches on her face, four parallel lines on each cheek, caught his eye.
“My lady,” he murmured, falling into the old way of speech by force of habit. He rose slowly, so as not to startle her, and sat beside her on the bed. Very gently, he brushed just the tips of his fingers over her wounded flesh. “Your face…”
“Oh…” Trin put a hand to her hurt cheek and nodded. “Yes, she…she scratched me everywhere. She said she wanted…wanted to leave permanent scars—so everyone would know what I had done.”
“Baby…” Thrace felt a lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “This is my fault—all of it.”
“No, it’s not.” Trin looked up at him. “It’s mine—I went to the temple willingly, of my own volition. I thought I had to…thought I had to be punished.”
Thrace wanted to ask what she thought about it now but he didn’t dare. He was afraid she would say that she still felt the same way, that anything they did together was wrong and sinful—worthy of punishment and death.
Instead of speaking any more, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her as gently as he could, stroking the parallel lines on her face tenderly—tracing them one by one with the tip of his tongue, trying to erase her hurt, to ease her pain and let her know how very much he still loved her.
* * * * *
“Oh, Thrace…” His name fell from Trin’s lips like a prayer as he kissed her. It amazed her, as always, that such a huge, muscular male could be so gentle…so tender. He handled her as though she was precious and valuable—someone cherished beyond what words could express or describe.
Before he had started this, she had warned herself that she shouldn’t get too carried away when he started healing her. After all, it was clear that he wanted to leave and she didn’t have the right to try and stop him. Not after the way she’d treated him. But she couldn’t help melting inside when he touched her like this…when he kissed her so tenderly.
“Thrace,” she whispered again and then somehow his mouth was covering hers, kissing her lips instead of her cheek. It reminded her of the first time he had kissed her—when they had been playing their roles at Dreaming Hills. But back then she’d been his Mistress and now she was…nothing.
I have no claim on him. Not anymore. I gave it up when I pushed him awaye…
The thought made her pull back from the kiss though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Thrace didn’t try to stop her. Instead he leaned back a little and looked at her.
“Trin?” he murmured.
“I…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. Her mouth still tingled from his warm, gentle kiss. She wanted desperately to lean forward and kiss him again, to take his mouth with hers and show him how she truly felt—but she didn’t dare.
Thrace seemed to understand her hesitation or at least, he didn’t push for an explanation.
“Your back was harmed too, wasn’t it?” he murmured.
“Yes.” Trin nodded, still twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. “Where…how…?”
“Lie face down on the bed,” he said softly. “I’ll tend to you.”
She nodded but didn’t move to do as he said.
“The welts…my back is especially bad. They…they’re very painful,” she whispered.
“Then I’ll be very, very careful.” He cupped her newly healed cheek in one big, warm hand and looked down into her eyes. “I’ll never hurt you, baby. You know that.”
Trin’s heart jumped at the use of his old, sweet nickname.
“I know,” she whispered. “I…I trust you, Thrace.”
“That’s good to know,” he rumbled softly. “Because after I finish your back I’ll have to go lower…if you still want me to.”
Trin’s breath caught in her throat. Though she had been healed and absolved by the Goddess, the teachings of her childhood were hard to overcome. Somewhere at the back of her head the mean, judgmental voice was still whispering shame and recrimination. She did her best to shut it off.
“I do want you to,” she said, lifting her chin. “Please. If…you don’t mind.”
“If I don’t mind?” He gave her a slow smile. “Baby, no matter what else is going on between us, you need to know that tasting and licking your sweet, soft body is still my favorite thing to do.”
“Oh…” Trin could feel the blood rushing to her face and suddenly she had to drop her eyes. His words brought back so many memories…memories of his hands and mouth exploring her…memories of the way he’d knelt between her legs and licked and sucked her pussy until she came and came…
Stop it, she told herself sternly. This is just about letting him heal you—that’s all. He’s probably still going to leave when it’s over. So don’t let yourself get too excited.
“Turn over,” Thrace murmured, stroking her cheek. “Turn over and let me heal you, baby.”
Trembling a little with nervous tension, Trin did as he said. Laying face down, she pillowed her head in her arms and closed her eyes, trying not to think…trying not to hope or to wish too much.
“That’s good…that’s just right, baby.”
Thrace got on the bed beside her and she could feel him bending over her, the warmth of his big body covering her like a blanket. She bit her lip but couldn’t stop the soft moan that came from her lips when he began healing her back with long, slow strokes of his tongue.
As she had told him, her back was the most painful area. The high priestess had dragged the hrakka from her shoulders to her lower back and then criss-crossed her own lines, leaving a hatch mark of stinging welts that burned when they were touched even lightly.
But Thrace’s mouth on her back didn’t hurt. Trin felt the by-now familiar tingling as his warm tongue stroked over her flesh, healing her wounds, making her whole again. The pain that had been tormenting her since the hrakka first clawed her tender skin at last disappeared completely. She gave a sign of relief and snuggled into the bed, flexing her back and lifting her hips in an unconscious gesture of relief.
Thrace, however, seemed to take a different meaning from her movements—or maybe he was simply ready to move lower.
“She hurt you here, too.” One big warm hand brushed lightly over Trin’s bare ass, making her gasp and jump.
“Yes…she did,” she admitted a bit breathlessly. “No…no place was spared.” When she turned her head, she saw him watching her.
“Can I heal you here?” he asked softly.
This time Trin felt no hesitation.
“Yes, she whispered. “Yes, please.”
“My pleasure, Mistress,” he growled softly and her heart jumped again.
“You don’t have to call me that anymore…you took off the collar,” she reminded him as he dragged his tongue over the rounded curve of her buttocks.
His eyes blazed as he licked her again. “I didn’t want to. And now I wish to show you how much I feel for you…how devoted I am.”
“And how…how do you want to show me that?” Trin whispered, still watching him as he finished healing her.
“First of all by healing all of you—your inner thighs too.” Thrace gave her a meaningful look and turned her over gently but firmly so that she was once more on her back. “Will you let me do that, Mistress? Will you allow me to heal you everywhere?”
Trin’s breath seemed to catch in her throat. Should she let him?
“Yes,” she said, not giving the mean little voice in the back of her head time to protest. “Yes, I…I want that.”
“That’s good, Mistress. Because I need to heal you now.”
Hooking his arms under her half-bent knees, Thrace dragged her to the end of the bed and sank down before her. Trin moaned as he split her wide, opening her thighs for him to expose the last of the cruel, red welts that had covered her skin.
“Oh, baby…” Thrace’s deep voice was sorrowful when he saw the evil marks of the hrakka. “This is…she really scratched you up bad. Even here.” One long finger touched briefly on Trin’s outer pussy lips and she jumped and moaned softly.
“Yes, I…I know,” she whispered. “Can…do you think you can heal me?”
“I know I can. Here more than anywhere else. And I’ll be gentle—I swear it.”
“I know you will,” Trin whispered. Daring greatly, she spread her thighs a little wider, even though the action opened her pussy lips as well. “Go on,” she breathed. “Heal me, Thrace.”
With a low groan that sounded suspiciously like her name, he leaned forward and dragged his hot, wet tongue gently over the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
Trin moaned breathlessly as he bathed her thighs with his tongue, lapping gently, tracing the cruel lines to make them disappear. She could feel the cool tingling, followed by a heat that seemed to consume her like a flame—a need that was growing inside her with each caressing stroke of his tongue.
Then Thrace looked up at her, his mouth hovering just above her bare pussy mound.
“Mistress,” he growled softly. “I need to heal you here too.”
“Just…just on the outside?” she asked, feeling like her heart was racing twice as fast as it should. “Only…only where I was scratched?”
“Only there,” he promised softly. “I swear it, Mistress.”
“Yes,” Trin whispered, not letting herself consider it any further. “Yes, do it…please.”
With a low growl, he bent his head and dragged the flat of his tongue over her outer pussy lips.
Goddess! Trin moaned and fisted her hands in the blue comforter on either side of her. His mouth on her felt so hot and wet and perfect—exactly as she remembered it and yet somehow, so much more intense. Maybe it was because the healing essence he was making was causing her to be more sensitive or maybe it was just that she wanted him so much she could barely hold still. But for whatever reason, her hips were suddenly thrusting all over the bed.
Thrace let her thrust but kept a firm grip on her thighs. He kept up his steady licking and lapping, first on one side of her outer pussy lips and then the other. But then Trin’s restless movements had an unexpected effect. When the big Havoc bent to drag the flat of his tongue from the bottom of one puffy outer lip to the top of her thigh, Trin’s motions made him miss. His tongue was already extended, ready to heal her in the only way he could. But instead of landing on her outer pussy, Trin’s movement pressed it right against her center.
Her pussy lips were already swollen and hot with need, parting on their own to show her berry-dark inner cunt, slick and hot with her honey, so there was nothing to stop him. Nothing to hold him back when his tongue at last connected with her bare inner folds and dragged up to her aching clit.
Thrace groaned low in his throat and Trin moaned breathlessly as his tongue made contact with her open pussy. For a moment they both froze. Clearly, though he couldn’t bear to do it himself, Thrace expected her to pull back. And indeed, the little voice in her head was shouting that she should pull back, that this was wrong.
Not wrong, Trin told it. Not wrong with the male I love!
With a soft moan, she pressed forward instead, grinding against his tongue, pressing her pussy to his mouth as she had the first time he tasted her back on Yonnie Six.
Her motions seemed to set off something inside of Thrace. With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and surged forward, lashing her clit almost frantically with his tongue.
Trin cried out softly as his hot, wet mouth tortured her throbbing clit sweetly. She hadn’t known it up until now, but her body had been missing him—missing him terribly. Missing his warm, enveloping hugs, the strength of his hard body against hers, his dark, spicy scent…but most of all missing the pleasure he gave her when he touched her and tasted her in just the right way. As Thrace continued to bathe her clit with his tongue and lap her juices, she felt like a woman dying of thirst in the desert who has finally been given a drink of water.
Shamelessly, she wound her fingers through his hair and dragged him closer. The big Havoc came willingly, burying his face between her thighs, lapping and sucking…tracing her clit with the tip of his tongue one minute and then thrusting deep into her pussy the next to drink her honey right from the source.








