Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (13 page)

BOOK: Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14)
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“Good.” Trin nodded at him briefly. “Okay, then I’m
taking a shower. Good night.”

“Good night…Mistress.” The title still seemed
strange to him, especially when he’d sworn to himself never to call her that.
But it fit her somehow and Thrace
found that the more he said it, the easier it came.

Shaking his head at the strangeness of it, he went
to the storage locker she’d indicated and started to look for something new to
wear.

Chapter
Thirteen

 

Trin turned over on her side and rolled herself
into a ball, pulling her knees in tight to her body. Goddess of Judgment, she
was cold! And no matter what she did, she just kept getting colder. She’s
already put two extra thermal blankets on and she was wearing thermal socks
too. She wished she had some thermal sleepwear but the thin, silky sleep
dresses which had so bothered Thrace
when she wore them around him were the only nighttime garments she possessed.

Speaking of Thrace, he had apparently found
himself a pair of sleep trousers to wear in the old clothes left by The
Alacrity’s last owner. He had taken a pillow and a single thin blanket and was
lying quietly on the floor at the foot of her bed.

Trin had been relieved to see that he was wearing
more than the tiny, thin towel he’d been holding around his waist when he came
out of the shower. She’d been seeing him shirtless for days now and she’d even
handled his “equipment” when he was chained down and needed help to relieve himself.
But back then she’d been thinking of him as just a big, not-too-bright animal.

Now she saw his intelligence and admired his
bravery and sense of humor. She was, she realized, beginning to know him as a
person
and that changed the way she felt about him. Seeing him naked or almost naked
made her feel…strange. And the idea of letting him see her in a similar state
of undress was also uncomfortable. She’d been glad the room was dark when she
came into the sleeping area, her thin robe belted tightly around her to keep
from revealing anything. And also glad that his bare, muscular chest was mostly
covered by the thin blanket.

Not that she cared for the male form, she told
herself. But when he’d come out of the shower and she saw him standing there so
tall and massive with the wide planes of his bare chest and broad shoulders
beaded with water, her stomach had done a funny little flip.
Only because
he’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye,
she told herself uneasily,
remembering it now.
With those sculpted abs and his long, muscular legs he’s
a damn near perfect specimen. Lady Malroth is certain to be impressed.

But no matter how much she tried to tell herself
she was only admiring him in a purely artistic sense, it couldn’t be denied
that her stomach had never done that funny little flip when she saw a naked
female. Her lack of reaction to others of her sex had led her to believe that
she might be mostly asexual. Indeed, though she enjoyed playing with her
clitoral stimulator, she never fantasized about other women or anyone else as
she did so. She simply enjoyed the pleasurable sensations of the buzzing little
vibrator until she reached a gentle orgasm and drifted off to sleep.

So why did she feel so strange when she watched Thrace
move around in that tiny, thin towel? Trin had no answer. But the memory of his
big, muscular body, nearly naked and beaded with water certainly did
something
for her. Maybe it was because he was so big or so different from her. He
was hard where she was soft and his voice was so deep…it was strange but just
the thought of him lying there at the foot of her bed was almost enough to warm
her up.
Almost.

Trin shivered again.

“Goddess, I’m so
cold
. What’s wrong with me?”
she muttered, burrowing deeper into the covers.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you,” a deep,
familiar voice murmured from the darkness.

“What?” Trin sat up, shivering. “Thrace? I thought you were asleep.”

“Nah. I’m just lying here listening to you thrash
around trying to get warm. But you’re never going to manage it.”

“What? Why not?” Trin demanded. “And how do you
know, anyway?”

“I know because I know about passion
berries—they’re native to my home world. You’ve still got some of the residue
from that sip of wine you took in your system. The cold you’re feeling is an
aftereffect and it’ll probably last for a few hours, if not the rest of the
night.”

“The rest of the night?” Trin felt a surge of
despair. She needed to sleep so she could wake up fresh and start preparing for
the ordeal ahead of her on Yonnie Six. She had no time for lying in bed
sleepless and besides, she felt like a block of ice. The cold wasn’t just
uncomfortable—it was downright painful. “What can I do about it?” she demanded,
pulling the thermal blanket closer—not that it did any good. “Since you know so
much about passion berries.”

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “There’s nothing you can
do.”

“Well, then what—?”

“But there’s something you can let me do.”

“What do you mean?” Trin felt uneasy.

“You can let me hold you. The passion berry
compound demands physical contact to counteract its symptoms. That’s how I was
able to warm you up before—by holding you.”

Trin vaguely remembered waking up and finding
herself held in the big Havoc’s lap. He’d put her down pretty quickly,
however—before she could start feeling too awkward. But now he was asking to
get into bed with her and hold her in his arms. It seemed dangerous somehow,
and not just because she was worried about having to use the pain collar to
keep him in line.

He was silent for a long moment as she thought about
it. Did she want to do this? Did she dare? Did she dare to let him climb in her
bed and press his big, muscular body against hers?
His big, muscular,
warm
body,
whispered a practical
little voice in her head.
That’s the operative word, Trin. It may be awkward
but at least it’s
warm
.

But
what if he tries something? Like the things he was talking about while you had
him chained to the cot?
a voice in her
brain demanded.
What are you supposed to do then?

The thought gave her pause. As intriguing as she
was beginning to find Thrace
and the male form in general, she still had absolutely no wish to be penetrated
by a male. Ever.

“If you’re worried, I’ll try something, don’t.” His
voice was calm and matter-of-fact in the darkness. “I told you I don’t take
females against their will and besides, you’ve got the remote.”

Trin cleared her throat.

“Of course I’m not worried about that,” she lied.
“It’s just…I only have on one of my night dresses—the kind you said bothered
you so much. I just thought—”

“That I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I
felt your body pressed to mine with only a thin little scrap of fabric between
us?” He gave a rumbling laugh. “Don’t worry, Mistress, I know my place. And we
males aren’t nearly as animalistic as you’ve been led to believe. I can reign
myself in.”

“Well…” Trin still hesitated but the cold was
spreading and now her teeth were starting to chatter. “A-all r-right,” she said
at last. “Come here. But if I ask you to l-leave and go b-back to the floor, I
expect instant obedience.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he murmured. And then he was
sliding into bed, under the covers beside her and gathering her into his arms.

At first Trin stayed curled in a protective ball
with the pain collar remote clutched tightly in one hand and held to her chest.
It seemed the most prudent thing to do and besides she felt awkward and
uncertain, allowing a male into her bed no matter how valid the reason.

Thrace
didn’t seem to care about her awkward pose. He
simply gathered her close, wrapping his long arms around her and holding her to
his chest. His body heat went to work on her at once and little by little, Trin
felt her frozen extremities starting to thaw.

At last he spoke softly in the darkness.

“It would be better if you’d relax a little. If
you’d come a little closer I could warm you to the core—that’s what you need.”

Trin
did
long to feel the delicious heat she
felt coursing through her arms and legs warming the rest of her.

“Well…all right,” she said at last. Slowly and
carefully, she allowed her body to unknot.

“That’s good,” Thrace murmured. “Now, here…” He
drew her close to him, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her
in a firm but loose hold that clearly let her know she was free to go at any
time. He pressed his legs to the back of her thighs and knees and settled her
securely against him, so that her head was resting on his muscular bicep.
“How’s that?” he murmured.

Trin hardly knew how to answer. The sensation of
being held by the huge Havoc was both odd and comforting at the same time. She
felt completely surrounded by him—cradled and protected by his big body. It
reminded her of being a very young child because that was the last time in her
life she’d been small enough for another person to so completely surround and
cradle her.

It was a little scary to feel so tiny and
vulnerable in the arms of a male she knew could break her in half with one
hand. And yet…she didn’t feel threatened by Thrace. Not at all. She somehow
knew he would use his strength to protect her, not to hurt her.

Of course, all that was much too complicated to say
in answer to his question.

“This is nice,” she said at last. “Warm…or warmer,
I suppose. My face is still cold though. Those damn passion berries are
awful—the tip of my nose is like ice.”

“That’s easy to fix.” Before she could protest, he
flipped her over so they were face to face—or face to chest, in this case since
he was so big—and pulled her close again.

Trin started to protest but the heat radiating from
his big body was immediately addictive. It felt like she’d been standing in the
doorway with her face in a cold wind and someone had suddenly turned her
towards a roaring fire. Now her frozen skin was beginning to thaw and she found
she lacked the will power to tell him to stop and let her go at once.

Just
a minute or two,
she told herself.
I’ll just lay
like this a minute or two and then once I’m completely warm I’ll send him back
to his place on the floor.

Feeling better about the situation now that she had
imposed a time limit, Trin snuggled closer. She took a deep breath and the
Havoc’s warmth surrounded her—he seemed to radiate heat like a furnace. And
along with the heat, came his warm, spicy scent.

Trin breathed it in—it was rich and dark with hints
of leather and some kind of musk she didn’t recognize. There was something
about it…something
other.
A primal, masculine fragrance she’d never
encountered until she met Thrace.
Maybe it was hormonal in some way or maybe it was just a Havoc thing but for
whatever reason, it smelled damn good. Trin found herself inhaling it eagerly,
even pressing her face to his chest to get closer to the source.

At the same time, the rest of her was getting
closer too. Her breasts, bare beneath the thin silky night dress, were pressed
shamelessly to his hard abs and somehow her arms had slipped around his trim
waist, the remote clasped loosely in one hand. Her pelvis was pressed to his
and their legs had become entwined so that one of his long thighs was between
hers.

Though she had never been this close to a male
before, this somehow seemed perfectly all right to Trin. After a moment,
though, she realized that something long and hard was branding her hip through
her night dress and the thin fabric of Thrace’s sleep trousers.

What’s
that?
At first her mind could make no
sense of it. She was too busy enjoying the sensation of warmth and closeness.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to cuddle with
another person this way. There had been a few times when she was in the
piloting academy when she had paired off with a classmate but they were all
female and the female form, though beautiful, did not attract her. She had
found early on that it did nothing for her sexually to have the soft, small
frame of another female pressed against her own.

On the other hand, having Thrace’s big,
hard body surrounding her own made her tingle everywhere in a most disturbing
way.

The big Havoc shifted restlessly and the hard ridge
of flesh poked her hip again. Trin frowned.
Something long and hard between
his thighs, pressing against me…what…?
This time her brain made the
connection.

“Oh!” She jumped back from him at once, putting a
foot of space between them.

“What’s wrong?” His voice seemed slightly hoarse,
although it was hard to tell since it was already so deep.

“You…your…” Trin didn’t know what to call it. “Your
male equipment is
poking
me.”

“Yeah, well…” His shoulder lifted in a kind of half
shrug which she could barely make out in the dim light from the floor glows.
“It’s to be expected.”

“Expected? What are you talking about?” Trin
demanded. She felt upset… betrayed. “You told me you could control yourself!”

“I
am
controlling myself,” he growled. “I’m
holding a beautiful, half naked female in my arms and I’m not doing a damn
thing but lying here. Believe me, that takes a hell of a lot of control.”

“But…your equipment…”

“My shaft gets hard when I’m aroused—it’s
automatic. I can’t stop it.” He shrugged again. “Sorry—there are limits to what
I can control, even for you, Mistress.”

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