Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (53 page)

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.