Taming the Giant Read online

“Bram!” she gasped, reaching up to grab onto his broad shoulder as he leaned over her. “Oh Gods, Bram, what are you doing to me?”

  “Stoking your sweet little clit. Getting you closer, little one,” he murmured as his finger continued the gentle swirling motion over and around the tingling button at her center.

  “Closer to…to…?” Alanah couldn’t finish the sentence. A feeling was building up inside her—a feeling so high and hard and deep she could hardly hold her hips still while Bram stroked her with that one gentle fingertip.

  “Closer to coming, little one,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s all right, just let the pleasure build. And when it reaches a peak just let yourself go.”

  Alanah didn’t have to ask what he meant by reaching a peak. She could feel her body doing it now. Closer and closer he pushed her—higher and higher, filling her body with bewilderingly pleasurable sensations she’d never felt before but somehow knew she had always craved.

  If I’d known this was possible before, I would have been doing it all the time, she thought and then she felt the peak that Bram had been talking about. It was like something snapping inside her—a jagged bolt of pleasure that was overwhelming in its intensity.

  “Ahh…Bram!” she cried, her hips bucking wildly under his gentle touch. The pleasure seemed to affect her entire body—her heart raced, her muscles stiffened, and her hands curled into fists. “Oh…Oh.” The moans and cries were drawn from her lips as the wonderful sensation swept over her in a wave.

  Through it all, Bram held her close and murmured sweet encouragement in her ear.

  “That’s right, little one—let yourself go. Let yourself come. Gods, you’re so beautiful…so perfect when you come.”

  The sensation seemed to last forever but at last, it faded and Alanah was left panting in his arms. She looked up at him in wonder, her fists finally unclenching as her body relaxed into a warm kind of torpor.

  “Bram that was…I didn’t even know I could feel such things.”

  “I think the fact that you can proves this ‘blooming’ you’re so worried about isn’t as big a problem as you think,” he rumbled. “Look…you’re even getting a little wet.” He stroked his fingertip gently down her slit to show her how it was glistening with moisture.

  “But my petals are still flat and I have no curls.” Alanah couldn’t help feeling disappointed. It seemed to her that the intense pleasure she’d just experienced should have somehow cured her. But of course, that was impossible—she couldn’t bloom fully without the fertility ritual performed by the Elder Witch, she reminded herself. Still, her flower seemed to be a little more open.

  “Maybe you don’t need to ‘bloom,’” Bram suggested softly. “Alanah, may I have your permission to touch lower…to stroke the entrance to your pussy?”

  “The…my entrance?” Alanah felt uncertain all over again. “You…you can, but I’m afraid it will be pursed tight,” she whispered. “Much too tight to enter.”

  “Let me see,” Bram murmured. His seeking finger traveled lower and soon she felt the warm tip sliding gently against her unused core. “You’re quite slippery down here,” he told her. “I think the orgasm you had has helped a bit.”

  “Orgasm?” Alanah asked breathlessly.

  “The intense sensation of pleasure when I made you come,” Bram explained. As he spoke, he slipped his finger gently inside her—or tried to, anyway. Her entrance was still pursed tight, as Alanah had predicted. Her giant could barely get his finger into her to the first knuckle before she started squirming uncomfortably.

  “Bram,” she whimpered softly. “That hurts—it’s too tight.”

  He stopped at once. “I’m sorry little one—forgive me,” he murmured, withdrawing.

  “It’s all right,” Alanah said but then a sob choked her. Because it wasn’t all right—not a bit! If Bram couldn’t even get a finger into her, how was she ever going to accommodate the long, thick shaft she saw straining at the shiny black fabric of his sleep trousers?

  “Oh sweetheart…” he rumbled gently. “Please don’t cry—I promise everything is going to be all right.”

  “How can it be?” Alanah sobbed, pressing her hot face to the smooth, hard wall of his chest as he stroked her shaking shoulders. Somehow the intense pleasure she’d had earlier seemed to have brought all her other emotions closer to the surface and now she couldn’t help crying. “How can things be all right if I can’t let you in me?” She looked up at him, her eyes stinging with tears. “And Bram, I want to let you inside me. I want to feel you filling me up—making me yours. So much.”

  “That’s not important,” he assured her, gathering her close to him and kissing her wet cheeks. “What’s important is that we’re together, holding each other, loving each other. Everything is going to be all right, Alanah—I swear it.”

  But Alanah couldn’t see how it would be all right. She only knew she was miserable because she couldn’t give herself to her giant the way she wanted to. And all because that horrible Thiera had denied her the fertility ritual.

  Chapter Eleven

  “So I’ve run an analysis of her blood and genetic makeup and I think the problem is a combination of factors.” Ren looked thoughtfully at the clip-chart in his hand.

  “What factors?” Bram said anxiously. “Tell me—and tell me what I can do to fix it!”

  “Easy, Brother.” Ren put a hand on his arm. “You’re really bothered by this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I’m Goddess-damn bothered,” Bram growled, pacing back and forth in front of the med-station desk where his friend was sitting. “You should have seen Alanah—she was distraught.”

  Ren frowned. “So you’re not just worried because this…condition means you might not be able to bond with her?”

  Bram ran a hand over his hair.

  “Bonding is important, of course, but even more than that, I want her happiness,” he said earnestly. “Do you think the bonding fruit will help?”

  Ren shook his head doubtfully. “I’m not entirely certain, Bram. In light of the problem—”

  “What exactly is the problem?” Bram interrupted him. “And don’t tell me it’s because that damn witch wouldn’t give her blessing—it has to be something besides that superstitious bullshit!”

  “Calm down and listen.” Ren rose and went around the desk to show him the chart. “Look here, I think that if Alanah is a typical of her kind, the females of her race may have been genetically altered somehow to remain virgins until their joining night.”

  “What? What are you talking about—how is that possible?” Bram demanded.

  “Her DNA has been tampered with—or the DNA of her ancestors, anyway—and it was passed down to her.” Ren tapped the clip-chart. “Remember we thought Alanah’s people might be a colony from the other world in her solar system?”

  “Of course—though why they would want to leave a much more habitable planet for that cold, ball of rock we found Alanah on I don’t understand,” Bram growled.

  “What if they were a religious sect?” Ren asked, his green eyes glowing. “Some order that believed in the absolute sexual purity of females until they were given to a male? They left the warmer planet, which was probably too permissive for their tastes, and made their home someplace remote, where they could make their own rules.”

  “That sounds feasible,” Bram admitted, frowning. “But it doesn’t solve our problem. Alanah says that…” He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. “She says when a female “blooms” her pussy becomes plump and pink and she grows curls on her mound.”

  “In other words, she reaches complete sexual maturity,” Ren said. “Whoever tampered with the DNA of her ancestors found a way to keep the women of her kind sexually immature—at least in some ways—until—”

  “Until what?” Bram demanded. “What can I do to fix this? How can I help her, Ren?”

  Ren sighed. “As I was saying before, I think the problem is two-fold—it’s physical, yes—there’s