Forgotten

  “Oh, Tragar…” Emily felt a rush of love for the big Kindred who was her mate. Her lover and protector. The Goddess, her mother, had been so wise when she put the two of them together. Tragar was exactly who she needed in her life and she liked to think that she was the one he needed too.

  “You are the one I need, my Khalla,” he murmured hoarsely. “The only one. Which is why I cannot bear to see you in pain.” He traced the point of one hard nipple gently and Emily gasped as the light caress sent a hot shiver of desire through her entire body. She could feel her nectar beginning to flow in reaction to his touch. “Come, Emily,” he said softly. “Let me ease you.”

  “All…all right,” she whispered breathlessly. “I guess…”

  But before she could finish, Tragar was already unbuttoning her blouse and spreading it wide to bare her thrusting breasts, now swollen and aching with need.

  “Gods, you’re lovely,” he said softly, cupping her full breasts again.

  Emily bit her lip. She hadn’t realized how very full her breasts had gotten. When they filled with the nectar that all Khallas produced, they could become extremely tight and achy.

  “Please, Tragar…they hurt so much,” she whispered.

  “It is my pleasure and my privilege to ease you, my Khalla.” He stroked her cheek lovingly and then drew one of her ripe nipples between his lips and began to suck.

  Emily moaned with mingled relief and pleasure as he drew the nectar from her breast and swallowed it eagerly. Not so long ago, he had believed this particular act was a sin—one bad enough to send him straight to the Seven Hells. Yet he had performed it for her—had suckled her breasts to ease the pressure and pain—even before he knew it was all right. It was one of the things she loved about him—that he was willing to do anything to protect her and show her his love.

  “This is true,” he sent, finishing with the first breast and starting on the second. “I would do anything to keep you from harm’s way…to keep you from pain, my Khalla.”

  “Oh God, Tragar…love you so much!”

  Her nectar was flowing freely now but as the pressure in her breasts eased, she felt a new ache beginning. With it, came a hot wetness between her legs which couldn’t be denied. This often happened when Tragar sucked her breasts, the sensation of her nectar being drawn out triggered a different type of flow—a flow of honey from between her thighs.

  Moaning, Emily shifted against the hard bulge she could feel in Tragar’s flight leathers. Rubbing helped ease the ache some but nothing really worked as well as his mouth. But after only six months of marriage, she was still a little shy to ask him for what she needed.

  Tragar released her breast, allowing the ripe nipple to slide from between his lips.

  “Ask Emily,” he growled hoarsely. “You know I love to hear you ask.”

  “Tragar, please, I need…” she began and then had to break off, blushing.

  He shook his head and growled again,

  “Ask.” Clearly he wanted to hear her say the words. “Ask me for what you need, my Khalla.”

  “All right…” Emily took a deep breath, trying not to be embarrassed. “I need…uh, the way you’ve been sucking my nipples has made my…my honey come down. And I need you to…” She cleared her throat as he watched her intently. “God, are you really going to make me say it?”

  “Yes,” he rumbled, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “Because I love to hear you beg for what you need. And then I love to give it to you.”

  Emily bit her lip but another hot twinge in her swollen pussy forced her to say the words he was waiting to hear.

  “Please,” she begged desperately. “Please I need…need your mouth on me.”

  “Where?” He raised an eyebrow at her, a little smile playing around the corner of his lips.

  “I need you to…to lick me. To lick my…my pussy.” The last word was almost a whisper and she could feel her cheeks getting hot with a blush but Tragar seemed to love it.

  “With pleasure, my Khalla,” he growled.

  In one swift move, he had flipped their positions so that now Emily was lying on the couch with her legs spread and her skirt pushed up.

  “Mmmm…” Tragar growled, kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of her, his upper body on the couch in front of her. Pushing her skirt even higher, he exposed the thin gold panties she was wearing. Emily didn’t know what they were made of—some Kindred fabric she guessed. But for whatever reason they were both comfortable and sexy…and thin as a gossamer spider’s web.

  To her further embarrassment, she saw the gold panties were soaked with her honey. Already she could see the outline of her swollen pussy lips beneath the fragile material and when Tragar spread her thighs wider, the little bump of her clit came into view.

  “Gods, Emily,” he groaned when he took in the sight between her thighs. “Look how wet you are.”

  “I…I can’t help it,” Emily whispered breathlessly, shifting under his half-lidded gaze. “I…I need you, Tragar. And you know when you suck my breasts it always makes my pussy wet.”

  “So it does.” He looked up at her, his eyes blazing. “And I see that my Khalla is in need. May I service you and ease your ache?”

  “Pl-please,” Emily stuttered, her heart pounding. “Yes, please do.”

  “With pleasure.” Tragar rubbed his rough cheek against the thin panel of her panties, making her moan as he bathed in her scent. “Gods, you smell so good,” he groaned, rubbing the other cheek as well. “I want to wear your scent all over my mouth and face and throat. I want anyone who comes near me to know that I’ve spent the last hour between your thighs, my Khalla.”

  “The last hour? You’re going to spend an hour?” Emily squeaked. She knew that Tragar loved going down on her and he had made it a game in the past, seeing how long he could delay her orgasm. But a whole hour?

  His only response was a low tearing sound. Emily felt a rush of cool air on her exposed pussy and realized he had ripped the thin gold panties away with his teeth.

  “Tragar!” she exclaimed. “I don’t—” But her words were lost in a moan as he pressed forward and buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking her tender, open pussy until she could do nothing but cry and grasp his thick black hair and beg for more.

  Emily didn’t know how long it lasted. Tragar drew it out…lapping the golden honey that flowed from between her thighs one minute and circling her clit the next with his tongue. He brought her to the edge more times than she could count…but refused to push her over. Finally, she had both hands tangled in his hair and her thighs clenched hard around his head.

  “Please,” she moaned, bucking her hips up shamelessly to meet his oral assault. “Please, Tragar, please make me come!”

  “Well, well…” He looked up at her, his golden eyes hot, his mouth and chin shiny with her juices. “It seems you lose some of your embarrassment when you’re in need, my Khalla.”

  “I can’t help it,” Emily moaned. “You’re driving me crazy. Now would you please let me come?”

  “On one condition…” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Stop blaming yourself and taking guilt for something that was not your fault.”

  Emily bit her lip. “I…I’ll try.”

  “All right.” He seemed satisfied. “That promise will do—for now. But if you start to punish yourself again, just remember that I can do a much more effective job of punishment than you. And I will if I have to.”

  “All right,” Emily whispered.

  “Good,” Tragar growled. “Now tell me exactly what you want me to do. Say it out loud—let me hear it.”

  “I…” Emily’s cheeks were hot but she was too deep in need—she had no shame left. And anyway, there was a pleasurable kind of feeling in being made to speak this way—in Tragar making her talk dirty to him. “I want…I want you to lick my pussy until I come,” she whispered, looking at him.

  “And then?” He held her gaze with his own, not allowing her to drop her eyes. r />
  “And then I need you to make love to me—to bond me to you all over again,” Emily whispered breathlessly. “Please, Tragar, I need you in me.”

  “And I need to be in you, my Khalla,” he growled. “But first I need to finish tasting your sweet honey and feel you coming all over my face.” Dipping his head again, he sucked her swollen clit between his lips and began to lash it mercilessly with the tip of his tongue.

  The direct stimulation was exactly what Emily needed. With a low wail, she bucked up her hips to meet him and finally felt herself sliding over the edge.

  Tragar rode out her orgasm until the last shudders of pleasure had finished. Then he popped open the magno tab that held his flight leathers in place and released his long, hard shaft.

  Emily moaned as he put her arms over her head and held her wrists with one large hand. She loved feeling this way—so open and helpless under her man. Loved the feeling of being completely owned and opened by him when he held her down and took her.

  “And I love to take you and make you mine, my Khalla,” she heard Tragar growl in her head. Then he fitted the broad head of his cock to the entrance of her pussy and with one long, slow stroke, thrust home inside her.

  Both of them gasped as Emily felt her body open to receive him—even the broad bulge of his mating fist. She knew that once the hard ridge swelled inside her, it would lock them together, making for a long, leisurely lovemaking session that wouldn’t end for hours.

  “Good—because I don’t want it to end. Want to be inside you all night, bonding you, my Khalla,” she heard Tragar say.

  “I…I want that too.” Even her mental voice sounded breathless.

  But even as she lost herself in the pleasure of her man bonding her to him all over again, Emily couldn’t help sending a silent prayer to the Goddess.

  Please, let Kate and Rone be okay. Let them find the love that they lost. Please.

  Chapter Twelve

  “So…this is where we live? Most of the time, I mean?” Kate looked around The Finder curiously.

  “We do,” Rone said shortly. He watched for her reaction from the corner of his eye as he sealed the airlock. They had docked the shuttle and entered at the center of the ship. The short metal hallway they were currently in led to the piloting and navcon equipment on the right and the living quarters on the left.

  “But I thought the other ship we were in was it.”

  “The shuttle? No, that’s just for when we need to go planetside. The Finder is our home.”

  “You know, I always wanted to live in a house boat when I was a kid,” she mused, turning to the left and making her way to the small but well-appointed food prep area. “But I never imagined I might end up someplace like this.”

  “Don’t blame me if you don’t like the way it’s decorated,” Rone said, following her but making sure to keep some space between them. “I had it before I knew you but you said it needed a ‘woman’s touch’ and completely overhauled it once we were joined.”

  “I did? Oh look—my grandmother’s knives!” Kate went to the magnetic knife plate mounted on one wall over the fold out cutting board.

  “We have more efficient ways of cutting—the laser slicer I mean,” Rone said. “But you always say that food doesn’t taste as good if it’s not prepared by hand so you can taste the ‘love’ in it.” He sighed. “We’ve made so many meals here together. You taught me how to make shrimp and grits and I taught you charnoth stew.”

  “Wow, that’s…interesting.” Kate threw him an oblique look and he couldn’t tell if she was tired of hearing about the past or genuinely interested.

  She passed out of the living area and into the entertainment room—really just a tiny space with a large viewscreen and a worn but comfortable loveseat positioned in front of it.

  “This is cozy,” she remarked. “And, oh look—my old loveseat!”

  “You said it was the most comfortable way to watch movie marathons,” Rone said. “I made a special trip just to bring it up here.”

  “I guess we would have plenty of time to watch movies if we’re traveling from place to place in space. How do we manage that, anyway?” Kate asked.

  Rone was encouraged that she had said “we.” He smiled at her.

  “Well, we aren’t able to fold space like the Kindred Mother ship will be doing for us shortly, but the Finder does have an ultra-lite hydrogen scoop engine which makes interstellar travel possible. We mainly use stable wormholes to get from place to place in the universe—try to find ones that dump out a few parsecs from our destination—and then use the scoop to get there.”

  “Okay. That makes sense, I guess.” Kate nodded and continued through the entertainment room and into the sleeping area. “Oh…” She stopped abruptly at the foot of the large sleeping platform. “This must be…our bed.”

  “It is,” Rone acknowledged quietly. “You sleep on the right side and I take the left,” he added.

  “And what’s this?” Kate moved away from the bed and went to the specially modified chair in one corner of the room. It was large enough to seat someone Rone’s size comfortably with a padded back and seat but it had no arms. “A rocking chair?” Kate asked, setting it in motion. “Oh—it glides! Kind of like the kind you see in nurseries for soothing babies. But why doesn’t it have arms?”

  Rone cleared his throat uncomfortably.

  “It’s not exactly a rocking chair,” he said in a low voice.

  “It’s not? Do your people call it something else?” She looked up at him.

  “It’s…” He sighed. She probably wasn’t going to like this. “It’s a breeding chair.

  “A what?” Kate shook her head. “What did you say? I think I misunderstood you.”

  “A breeding chair,” he repeated, a little louder. “We…we were trying to make a baby.”

  “We were?” Kate looked at him as though he was crazy. “Okay, all right…” She took a deep breath and seemed to get hold of her emotions. “We were married, bonded…whatever so I guess that makes sense. But why do you need a special chair for it?”

  “For a female to get pregnant with a Wulven’s child, their breeding needs to be long and drawn out. Almost what you humans call ‘Tantric’,” Rone explained. “The breeding chair makes that easier. It’s built for comfort and for long, slow, leisurely love-making sessions.”

  “Um…okay.” Her cheeks were definitely pink now but she wasn’t asking him to stop talking, which was encouraging. “So the guy—the Wulven—sits on the chair and the girl—his mate, I mean…”

  “Straddles him and sits on his lap, facing him with her legs spread to either side. The chair has adjustable footrests for her comfort—see?” He stepped forward and folded out one of the rests in question from the back of the chair.

  “Wow…” Kate murmured. So we—I mean they—just sit there and, uh rock like that with him, um, inside her?”

  “Yes,” Rone said simply. He tried not to remember all the times he’d held Kate in his arms in that very chair, her petite, naked body pressed against his chest, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his shaft within her. Gods, it was beautiful to hold her that way, feeling so intimately connected as they swayed slowly to their own rhythm, his cock thrusting deep inside her warm, welcoming pussy. How he missed that sweet intimacy! The feeling of being so completely connected to her in every way.

  He cast a glance at her, wondering what Kate was thinking now. How she felt about what he had told her. Once he would have been able to read her thoughts through their shared mental link but no more—now he had to guess, just as he had when they were first dating.

  “So this lasts for a long time?” she managed at last, her voice coming out a little strangled.

  “Hours sometimes,” Rone told her.

  “Isn’t there…” She cleared her throat. “Isn’t there chafing after a while?”

  He shook his head. “There’s a compound in my—in a Wulven’s precum which stimulates his mate’s body to keep lubric
ating. It’s actually the same compound that helps her open enough to take him in the first place. We tend to be…uh, quite large.”

  “I bet,” Kate muttered, her eyes flickering down to the crotch of his flight trousers. “Sorry, I’m sure this is all normal to you but it just seems…strange to me. I mean…this whole, uh, breeding chair thing.”

  “Making love in the breeding chair can be very gentle and slow and intimate,” Rone assured her. “Even relaxing.”

  “Intimate I can see but relaxing?” Kate let out a short laugh.

  “Compared with other breeding methods, yes,” Rone said shortly. “There are other ways for a Wulven and his mate to conceive but I refused to use them—to use you in that way.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Kate bit her lip. “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind.” Rone shook his head. Better not to get into that now—clearly she was already apprehensive. He didn’t want to make her fear him even more. “I need to go up front and set the course,” he said. “The Mother Ship will be folding space for us shortly.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Kate said, surprising him. “I want to see how the ship works. Do I…I mean, did I know how to fly it?”

  Rone shook his head as he led the way to the front of the ship where the controls and navcom were. “No, but I was teaching you. Mainly, you were my navigator.”

  “I was?” Kate looked surprised and pleased. “I always have had a good sense of direction.”

  “That you do,” Rone acknowledged. He settled into the pilot’s seat and indicated the co-pilot’s seat next to it. “There’s your chair. The navcom is located in the control panel right in front of it.”

  Kate sat down and strapped herself in eagerly. As with the shuttle, Rone had modified the chair and the safety harness to fit her diminutive size so she had no trouble. But when she looked at the complicated array of controls on the panel in front of her, her face fell.