"I'm glad." Tragar took a deep breath. "All right, then it's time we stopped your nectar."

"Okay, yes I guess you're right." She also took a deep breath. "Anyway, if you don't stop it soon, my nightgown will be ruined. Not that it isn't already." She looked down at her front and Tragar wished he could see it too. The sight of her full, pink nipples thrusting out of the ragged holes in the silky blue fabric was distractingly erotic. But he had her positioned in his lap so he could reach around her and hold her in his arms as he pinched her peaks.

"We will get you new garments when we go to see my old master," he murmured, pulling her back into his lap. "Until then, what you have on will have to do. Are you ready?"

"Y-yes..." She still sounded hesitant but Tragar couldn't help that. They had talked long enough-it was time to stop the flow of nectar before it really got going.

"Lean back against me and relax," he murmured in the little pink sh.e.l.l of her ear. "Don't feel any shame for the pleasure you feel when I touch you-just let it wash over you-don't fight it." As he spoke, he palmed her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the night garment, feeling their soft weight in his hands and running his thumbs gently over her nipples, now sticky with the sweet nectar.

"Ohhhh..." A long sigh fell out of her and he felt her arch her back, pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his hands. "All...all right," she whispered as he continued to stroke her tight nubs. "I'll try."

"Good girl," he murmured, taking her ripe peaks between his fingers. "Good girl, Emily. Just relax now." He normally would never have spoken so to a Khalla but at the moment she needed to be treated with tenderness and comfort, he sensed-not as a Khalla coming into her own but as an uncertain female feeling her way towards a new existence.

Emily sighed and relaxed against him, letting him know his instincts were right. Her thighs, which had been pressed tightly together, drifted apart just a little, allowing the warm, feminine scent of her desire to fill his senses. G.o.ds, she was beautiful! Tragar had no idea what he had done to deserve holding her in his arms but he swore to himself he would see to it she was well taken care of no matter what it cost him.

Gently but firmly, he applied pressure, squeezing her ripe, pink nipples between his fingers to stem the flow of her nectar.

The effect on the female in his arms was electric. Emily moaned and bucked against him, her breathing ragged and short. She reached for him and her hands found his knees-grasping desperately for something to hold on to. He could smell her scent increasing-going from warm to incredibly hot and needy in a bare moment.

"Oh...oh G.o.d," she moaned as he continued to squeeze her.

"It's all right, Emily," he growled hoa.r.s.ely in her ear. "It's all right-let the pleasure flow through you. Accept it."

"I...I'm trying." Emily was breathing in longer gasps now, trying to get back some control. He was still squeezing her nipples tightly but at least the hard, fast o.r.g.a.s.m that had rushed through her seemed to have faded to a pleasurable ache. "I...I think I'm okay now. It still feels good but I'm not...I mean..."

The big Kindred seemed to know what she meant.

"You're not coming any more?" he rumbled.

Emily could feel her face getting hot.

"No, I...I did but I'm, uh, not anymore. Even though you're still..." She nodded down at his big hands, still cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he applied steady pressure to her nipples. "G.o.d it's so embarra.s.sing to admit that I...what happened."

"You don't need to feel shame around me-I told you that," he growled softly.

"I don't as much as I did," Emily murmured, daring to turn her head and look at him. "I guess between you saving my life and the spanking and the crying and telling you secrets I've never told anyone else and...well, everything else we've been doing, I guess I sort of feel...like I know you." She shrugged. "That probably sounds weird, especially since you're only helping me because you have to."

"It's natural for you to feel a connection," he said neutrally. "I am, after all, the only one of your species you've met before and like calls to like." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Unless you've met and talked to other Beast Kindred since the Kindred started calling brides from Earth?"

Emily shook her head. "No, never. I mean, I went down to the HKR building and registered for the draft, same as everyone else but I never even spoke a single word to one of your people until now."

"Your people too," he corrected gently.

Emily sighed.

"I just...I still don't understand how it's possible. I mean, I did just find out I'm adopted but how in the world I wound up on Earth if I'm really somehow Kindred...it's just too weird."

"I do not understand it either but I wish you could have found out sooner," Tragar said in a low voice. "Before you were hurt by that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I hope..." He cleared his throat. "I hope the way I have been touching you hasn't brought back bad memories. I know that females who have been attacked in such a way often have a hard time allowing another male to touch them-even one who is trying to be gentle."

Emily gave him a small, trembling smile.

"I'm actually feeling better about that than I have in years. I guess...I guess it helped to talk about it. And, uh, thank you for not blaming me. I was sure after everything Grayson said, anyone I told would see what happened as my fault."

"The only blame was his," Tragar murmured. "You should have let me kill him." His voice was gentle but chillingly cold. It gave Emily a shiver and she remembered again that he was a trained a.s.sa.s.sin-he killed people for a living. She would probably do well to consider that before she started feeling all warm and fuzzy about him.

"I sort of wish I had let you kill him," she said with a broken little laugh. "Only, how would I ever go back to my old life and job with that hanging over my head?"

He frowned. "Are you truly expecting to do that? To go back to Earth after you finish your Tenrah?"

Emily frowned.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well..." He shrugged. "You will be completely changed for one thing. You will look more like my kind-our kind-than any of your Earth counterparts."

"You mean...the gold eyes and black hair will be permanent?"

He nodded. "In all probability you will grow taller as well."

"What? You're saying I'm going to turn into some kind of Amazon who looks completely different from how I do now?" she demanded. It was just like her nightmare-the one where the other took over completely.

"I do not know what an Amazon is but-"

"How will anyone know me? My family-what will they think? And what will they say at work?" She sighed. "Well, work is probably a non-issue. I'm sure after whatever lies Grayson spreads about me-"

"He will say nothing," Tragar interrupted, frowning. "I warned him that if he spoke ill of you as he was threatening to do I would come back and break his neck as well as his hand."

"You broke his hand?" Emily looked at him with wide eyes.

He shrugged. "You wouldn't let me break his spine."

"But-"

"I made sure it was his dominant hand. He will never touch an unwilling female with it again." His golden eyes narrowed. "In fact, he may never do anything with it again. I crushed the bones to fragments-it would probably be easier for surgeons to attach a new hand rather than fix that one."

"I don't...think we quite have the technology to grow a whole new hand yet," Emily whispered.

Tragar shrugged again.

"Then he will have to learn to sign his name with his left hand. And he will have severe pain for the rest of his life." He frowned at her. "Are you sorry for what I did? I am not."

"No." She lifted her chin. "No, I'm not-not a bit."

"Good," he growled. "Some punishments are well deserved."

"But if he really does keep his mouth shut that means I could go back to work. I mean, if they'll have me." She frowned. "Which they certainly won't if I show up looking like a completely different person."

"You will be a completely different person once your personality merges with that of your Kit'tara."

"I don't want to merge with her! How many times do I have to tell you that? I just want to go back to normal!" Emily shifted uncomfortably, aware that he was still pinching her nipples tightly. "Look, has it been enough time yet? I'd really like to get up."

"Let's see if your nectar has stopped." The big Kindred released his hold on her and Emily peered down anxiously, hoping against hope. To her immense relief, she saw that there was nothing coming from her nipples now.

"I'm all good," she said, hopping off his lap. "It worked-see?" She turned to face him.

"I see...I see very well indeed." There was a hunger blazing in his golden eyes as they traveled over her body, centering on her naked nipples which were now very red from his pinching.

"Um..." Emily didn't know what to say. She felt suddenly tongue tied and embarra.s.sed. While she'd been sitting on his lap and talking, what they were doing had almost begun to seem normal. Now that she was up and away from him, it didn't seem right at all.

Because it's not normal, whispered a little voice in her head. Not right at all to let a man you've barely known for twenty-four hours touch you and lick you and pinch you and hold you.

But it wasn't what they'd done that bothered her so much-it was the fact that she wanted to let him do more...so much more. Her entire body yearned towards him but she knew it was wrong. Tragar was a hired killer, only helping her because he had no choice, at least to hear him tell it. She shouldn't want to get close to such a man, to give herself so unashamedly...unreservedly...

"Emily," he said quietly, his deep voice calmer than his eyes. "Forgive me if I upset you just now. I know how you feel about your Kit'tara. I just wish you could understand that she is a part of you. Maybe when you talk to my old master he can make you understand."

"The only thing I want to understand is how to make it stop." Emily lifted her chin. "If you'll excuse me, I need a shower. I'm all...uh, sticky."

"Very well." He nodded. "We'll be in orbit around my old master's home world very soon. Please let me know if you need me to help you again."

Emily bit her lip. "You mean let you know if I start, uh, leaking again."

He nodded. "I know you find it embarra.s.sing but it's very important. I wouldn't ask you otherwise."

"Fine," Emily whispered. "I...I'll let you know." Then she turned and fled down the metal hallway, hoping like h.e.l.l that her throbbing nipples would behave until they could get to their destination and hopefully find some help.

Chapter Thirteen.

"Trin, I need to talk to you."

"Hmm?" Having recently gotten a shot of translation bacteria, Trin was curled up on the couch, deeply engrossed in what her new friends aboard the Mother Ship called a "romance novel." The plots were often unbelievable but the relationship between the characters was fascinating and more than made up for it. Also, the s.e.x in the more erotic books could be extremely hot. She told herself she was just reading the books to learn Earth customs and mores but honestly, she could hardly put down the one she was currently devouring.

"Trin?" he asked again.

"What is it?" She looked up to see her man looking very serious indeed. He had something clutched in his big hand but she couldn't see what it was. "What is it?" she repeated, putting down the book. "What's wrong, Thrace?" Because clearly, something was-very wrong or he wouldn't be looking at her like that.

"It's about our bond." He came to her, looking so grave that Trin felt a cold shiver of fear go through her.

"What about our bond? Is it okay? I thought we renewed it."

They had bonded on her ship and re-bonded after the difficult time she'd spent on her home planet at the Temple of the G.o.ddess of Judgment. Trin's planet, Zetta Prime, was an all female one where having s.e.xual relations with a male was considered crude and disgusting. Females wishing to have children went to Conception centers and chose from the many different types of compatible sperm there. Most of the Daughter of Zetta, as they called themselves, had never even seen a male and almost none of them would consider having s.e.x with one-let alone forming a permanent soul bond.

Yet, that was exactly what Trin had done and she wasn't sorry for it a bit. In fact, she was convinced that she had found her soul mate when she found Thrace-though it had taken her a while to see it that way. To begin with, she'd only bought him as a slave to bolster her image when she traded with the high society of Yonnie Six, another female dominated planet. But then things had changed.

Thrace had been resistant to the idea of being her slave at first-and no wonder. She'd later learned that it wasn't the first time he'd been captured and sold at the Flesh Bazaar, where she had first found him. He had gone through three horrific years of slavery and abuse when he was just sixteen cycles old. Only when he'd finally gotten his full strength and size, had he been able to break free and kill his old master in order to escape.

Playing Mistress and slave in order to trade on Yonnie Six, had cemented their relationship, however. As they grew closer, Thrace had been more than willing to wear the leather collar she put on him and call her "Mistress." That had been before her time at the temple, though. Ever since he'd rescued her and brought her back to the Kindred Mother Ship to heal, they had been on a much more even footing, having what Trin was pretty sure her friends considered a "normal" relationship. Or as it was referred to in some of her new reading material, "vanilla."

"What is it?" she asked again, since he was silent. This time she used the mind-link that they had developed when they bonded. It allowed for greater intimacy and honesty-it was nearly impossible to lie through the link.

"I have something to ask you. No, something to tell you," he answered in the same way, looking into her eyes. "But I don't know where to start."

"You said it had to do with our bond-start there," Trin suggested.

"All right..." He sank down on the couch beside her. "But what I have to say...you might not want to hear."

Her heart began to beat fast but she tried to keep a calm look on her face.

"Whatever it is, I can handle it. We can handle it together."

He stroked her cheek and looked intently into her eyes for a moment, as though making sure she meant it. Then he nodded and began to speak aloud.

"You know that Havoc males don't usually rear their own young until the age of six cycles," he began and Trin's heart gave another lurch.

"You said if I got pregnant you'd stay with me," she reminded him, trying not to feel panicky. "That you'd help raise the child."

"And so I will. But it's not if you get pregnant, baby-it's when," he said softly, squeezing her hands. "We know it's going to happen eventually." Which was true. According to a foretelling, Trin was supposed to carry a son who would be the father of a new race of Kindred, one that included both Havoc and human blood in the genetic mix. Since she herself was half human-her mother had chosen sperm from Earth to make her-it worked out perfectly. Or it would sometime in the future, anyway.

"All right, yes, we know that," she said steadily. "But what are you trying to tell me?"

Thrace sighed and ran a hand through his thick blue-black hair.

"Well, there's a reason that Havoc males donate their seed and have their sons born from artificial wombs."

"Because most of them refuse to bond with females, right?" Trin asked. Oh G.o.ddess, was he regretting bonding with her now?

"Of course I'm not, baby." He squeezed her hands again and she realized her worry must have come through their link clearly. "Just give me a minute to try and get this out-I swear nothing I'm telling you has anything to do with me leaving you."

"All right." Trin squeezed back, feeling better. Since the awful time she'd spent at the temple on her home planet she needed a little more rea.s.surance and comfort than she had in the past-which Thrace was more than happy to give. "Go on," she said. "If it's not their aversion to bonding then what is it? Why are all Havoc born from artificial wombs?"

"Because not many females can survive carrying a Havoc fetus to term," he said in a low voice. "They are incredibly strong, almost from the moment of conception, and very difficult for any female to carry. It's a long and painful process and by the fourth quadmester, the female is often black and blue, bruised from the inside out by the baby's kicking."

Trin looked at him uncertainly.

"That... doesn't sound like much fun."

"It's not just that," Thrace said grimly. "The birth itself is often filled with complications. Many females died during it. Also the infant mortality rate is very high-almost fifty percent."

"Fifty percent?" Trin couldn't believe it. "Only half the babies survive? Really?"