She had to bite the palm of her hand to keep from screaming or crying out for him and her entire body stiffened, causing some sideways glances from the servants. However, by that time they were almost finished clearing the table and none of them said a word.
After they left, Brand came out from under the table with a sly grin on his face and his lips still wet with her juices.
“Mmm, baby. I think these are my favorite pair of panties yet,” he rumbled.
“Oh, husband! Why did you do that?” Allara panted. “You made me come in front of all those people. It was so embarrassing.”
“But it was hot, too—wasn’t it?” he asked, giving her a naughty smile. “Sitting there letting me taste your pussy while all those people had no idea what was going on, right under their noses?”
Allara had to admit that he was right—though it was certainly nothing she would have dreamed of doing back when she had lived among the Q’ess.
I am becoming less like them and more like him every day, she thought, glancing at her husband. I do not think that is a bad thing. For every day my aunt’s voice grows fainter and my own grows louder.
All her life she had been raised as nothing but an agent of revenge. Now she was finding there was more to her—much more—than she had ever been led to believe.
Thirty-One
“So you enjoyed our honeymoon?” Brand asked again, recalling her to the present. Their time at Darden Three was over and they were in the shuttle, flying home.
Soon, Allara was certain, Brand would call the Mother Ship and ask them to fold space so the shuttle could bypass the light years between here and the Earth’s moon where it orbited. In fact, she was a little surprised that he hadn’t called them yet—they had been flying for over an hour now and were far from Darden Three.
She roused herself from her memories of their time together and smiled at her husband. She couldn’t help thinking of their last night together—the night with the vibrating pearl panties—and the way he had carried her back up to their room and made her come three more times with his fingers and tongue.
Thank the Gods of All Creation I didn’t listen to my aunt and kill Brand, she thought as she looked at him. What a terrible idea it was now—the notion of fulfilling her mission.
The big Kindred had won her heart with kindness and patience and most of all with his steadfast love. She was so glad and grateful for the Claiming Period, which had enabled her to hold off on fulfilling her purpose and allowed her to see what a sweet and wonderful man her new husband really was.
I would rather stab myself in the heart now than stab him, she thought, looking down at the jeweled skora which she still wore. It occurred to her that it was time to take it off now—she didn’t need it anymore. She was never going to fulfill the mission she had been raised to do. The Blood Feud would go unsatisfied and that was just fine with Allara.
“Yes, husband,” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “I couldn’t imagine a more perfect honeymoon or a more beautiful time together.” She sighed. “But now I suppose we must go home?”
“Why, are you sorry to leave Darden Three?” Brand asked.
Allara nodded.
“It was so beautiful—so perfect. Will we ever go back there again?”
“Sure we can, baby. We established diplomatic relations with them and they’re eager to have the friendship of the Kindred. We can go back on regular vacations if you’d like,” Brand promised.
“Oh, can we?” Allara looked at him with shining eyes. “That’s wonderful, husband!”
Brand grinned at her.
“I’m glad that makes you happy but I have another surprise that I hope will make you even happier.”
“You do? What is it?” Allara asked eagerly.
Brand laughed.
“Now, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you about it, right? It’s something I set up before we went to Darden Three and I’m hoping it will happen soon.” He glanced at the chronometer on his wrist. “It should be any minute now…”
“What should be any minute?” Allara exclaimed. “What is it, husband? I cannot wait!”
At that moment, the viewscreen beeped and Brand held up a hand to quiet her.
“Hang on, baby—I’m hoping this is it right now.”
He pressed a button which made the viewscreen come to life and Allara gasped in surprise and alarm.
There, filling the viewscreen with their angry faces, were her father and her aunt…and both of them were glaring at her.
Thirty-Two
“Oh, there you are—thank you for calling me back. Hello, I’m Brand, Allara’s new husband,” Brand said, introducing himself cordially as though this was any other social meeting.
He has no idea he’s talking to the people who raised me to kill him, Allara thought numbly. Oh, Gods of All Creation…
“Allara and I are just returning from a diplomatic mission to Darden Three so we’re close enough to come visit you, if you’d like to hug your daughter,” Brand continued, talking to Allara’s father.
Allara bit her lip. Her father had never hugged her once in her life. He was not the type to show affection—only condemnation and censure.
True to form, he shook his head, his face set in a mask of rigid disapproval.
“You may not come here. We have only one space port and only merchants may land there.”
“Oh, well,” Brand began uncertainly. “I’m truly sorry—I meant no offense. I just thought you’d like to know that your daughter is being well taken care of and we’re very happy together.”
“Yes, so we see,” Allara’s aunt said coldly, speaking for the first time.
“I just thought—” Brand began but Allara’s father cut him off.
“I would speak with my daughter alone,” he snapped. “In complete privacy.”
“Okay, well…” Brand looked taken aback but willing to comply. “Let me just put the ship on autopilot and I’ll go in the back,” he said to Allara, who nodded miserably at him.
He manipulated the controls for a moment, then stood and, with another nod at the viewscreen where Allara’s aunt and father were waiting, stone-faced, he left.
The minute the door to the cockpit was closed, Allara’s father thundered,
“What is the meaning of this…this farce?”
“You sent the signal!” her aunt exclaimed shrilly. “You led us all to believe that your mission was complete!”
“I pressed the transmitter button by accident!” Allara protested, trying to defend herself.
“You must complete the mission!” her father shouted at her, his face contorting with rage. “I have already been elevated to the position of Head of the Seven Great Houses! If you fail and your failure is made known, I will lose my new status and your aunt and I will be cast down, our names stricken from the roles of the Great forever!”
“I could not complete it!” Allara exclaimed. “My husband has not…done what you said he must, Aunt,” she said, appealing to her aunt, who—while still stone-faced and disapproving—was at least not shouting at her. “He has not…” She could feel her cheeks getting red. “He has not, er, consummated our marriage,” she finished at last.