“Not unless you want me to,” he said firmly.
Allara shook her head, mystified.
“But what is the purpose of waiting so long?”
“It’s to give us time to get to know each other,” Brand told her. “And it’s not like we wait four weeks and all of a sudden we make love. Every week, we’ll get a little bit closer—a little bit more intimate.”
“Intimate…how?” Allara asked, her heart starting to pound in her chest. Now that she had been in his arms for a while, his scent was working on her again. She still feared him, but the warm, spicy fragrance of his skin was comforting and calming. Her tears had dried up, though she was still angry with herself for being too much of a coward to follow through with her duty.
“Well, the first week—the week we’re in now—is called the Holding Week,” Brand explained. “During this week, a Kindred warrior can hold his bride and caress her body—but only over her clothing.”
“He…he can?” Allara thought of his big, warm hands rubbing her back and wondered how it would be if they wandered to other places? Forbidden places…
No, you must not think that way! He is the enemy!
But still, the thought lingered.
“Speaking of clothing…” Brand looked at her with a frown. “Did you bring any more clothes with you, sweetheart? Did you maybe leave your bags in the Docking Bay?”
Allara shook her head. What would be the point in bringing clothing with her when she was only going to kill her new husband and then kill herself almost as soon as she arrived?
Only now it looks as if I will be staying longer, she thought. Her eyes flicked to the tight silver wedding gown, shredded beyond any hope of repair. What would she wear now?
“Can’t believe your people didn’t send you any clothes!” Brand looked as though he might be upset with her aunt or her father for their oversight. “But never mind, baby,” he said to Allara. “You can wear one of my undershirts to bed tonight and I’ll ask Kat to synthesize you some new things tomorrow.”
“All right.” Allara nodded—what else could she do? “But will it not be too large?” she asked.
He laughed, that musical rumble that made her forbidden areas tingle even though she didn’t want them to.
“Of course, baby. But it’ll do for one night.”
“Thank you.”
Allara was glad she wouldn’t have to spend the time between now and tomorrow wrapped in a blanket. Though the blanket was much better than being so exposed. No male had ever seen her without her clothing before and it had been intensely embarrassing to let the big Kindred see her unclothed.
“Tell me more about the Claiming Period,” she said, thinking that she needed to learn more about this time-limit her new husband had imposed before taking her. What else would happen to her before she could fulfill her mission?
“Well, the second week is called the Bathing Week,” Brand rumbled softly. “Remember the bathing pool you saw in the fresher? Uh, the room of necessity?”
“Yes.” Allara nodded guardedly. “Do we both take baths during that week?” It would be a change for her, since she only took warm baths during the High Holy Days back home, but she didn’t mind giving up cold showers.
“We take baths together,” Brand told her.
“What? But…but a man and woman bathing together would be almost as bad as if they mingled their Songs!” Allara protested.
He frowned.
“So you were all right with the idea of me ‘taking’ you roughly on our very first night but you object to the idea of us taking a warm, relaxing bath together?”
When he put it that way, her objection sounded rather foolish, Allara had to acknowledge. But the idea of both of them being naked together still seemed shocking and wrong. She didn’t think it ever happened among her people. Even when a man was taking his wife, she might be bare but he was not. He simply pulled down his trousers to do the deed—at least to hear her aunt tell it. And now the big Kindred was suggesting that the two of them would be completely unclothed in the warm, steamy tub together…
I wonder if he will sing his Song to me while we are naked, whispered a naughty thought in her head. Allara could just imagine his soft, low humming running over her naked skin like warm, knowing hands…
Stop it—what’s wrong with you? He is the enemy!
Not only that, but she had been frightened to death of him just a few minutes ago! But of course, that was when she’d thought he was going to take her roughly. And before his scent had started working on her again.
I must be careful of his scent—it is as seductive as his Song, she told herself. Aloud, she said,
“I suppose I understand your point. If we take baths together during the Bathing Week, what do we do during the third week? What is it called?”
His golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim bedroom.
“The third week is the Tasting Week.”
Allara shook her head.
“I do not understand. What will I be tasting?”
“You won’t be tasting anything, baby—I will,” he told her. “During the Tasting Week, the Kindred warrior is allowed to taste his bride.”
Allara looked at him in horror.
“You want to eat me? You are a cannibal?” She had heard terrible things about the giant evil ones all her life but the idea that they ate their brides was a new and horrible idea. Maybe that was why he wanted her to take a bath first—so she would be all clean for the cooking pot.
But Brand was shaking his head.
“No, no, no!” he said, chuckling. “No, baby—you have a completely wrong idea. When I say taste, I don’t mean ‘bite’ or ‘eat’—I mean lick.”
Allara frowned.
“During our third week together you will lick me?”
This didn’t seem as horrible as the idea of him actually eating her, but it was still very strange.
“Yes,” he growled softly. “I will.”
“You will lick my fingers, perhaps?” Allara asked, remembering how he had kissed her hands during their wedding ceremony and licked the white stuff from the cake off her fingertips.
He rumbled laughter again but this time there was a sensual note in his voice.
“No, baby,” he growled softly. “During the Tasting Week, I’ll lick your sweet little pussy.”
“My…pussy?” Allara shook her head.
“Your sex. Between your legs,” he clarified.
Suddenly, what he was saying became clear to her. Allara’s heart started pounding.
“You want to lick my forbidden places? But why?” she exclaimed, pressing her thighs together tightly.
Brand’s golden eyes had taken on that sleepy, half-lidded look of desire.
“To bring both of us pleasure, baby,” he told her. “Don’t you have a spot there, between your pussy lips, that feels really good when you touch it?”
Allara remembered the place she had found that day after listening to the moun horn trio at the Song House—the place that felt so good she couldn’t stop touching it until her aunt caught her at it and started beating her with the broom.
“Well…yes,” she admitted in a low voice, almost ashamed to say it.