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  “Surely even the most powerful witch cannot hold sway from such a distance,” Saskia protested, frowning at her mate. “Don’t frighten Emily by making her think that awful old female still has power over her!”

  “Forgive me, my love—I just want her to be safe,” Xen’dex said.

  “You need have no fear about Emily’s safety,” Tragar said, lifting his chin. “I have pledged my life to protect her. I’ll keep a watchful eye on her—you may be sure of that.” He put an arm around Emily protectively and she pressed against him, glad for the heat of his big body. God, why was she so cold all of a sudden? It was as though the mention of Grandy See-er had sucked all the warmth out of the room.

  “See that you do,” Xen’dex said. He clasped arms with Tragar and they squeezed each other’s forearms tightly in a warrior’s grip. “Be well my student,” he said to Tragar. “Remember that the Goddess loves all of her children—even those that have strayed.”

  “I doubt she’d care much for one who has strayed as far as I have,” Tragar growled. “Still, I thank you for your thought—and for your hospitality and advice, my old Master. Be well and may Fortune favor you.”

  “You as well,” Tragar’s old master said. “Go with the Goddess.”

  The ride up to the ship was a silent one. Emily was biting her lips and looking out the window at the fast retreating planet. She could feel the big Kindred glancing at her from time to time but she kept her eyes averted. She didn’t want him to ask why she was so fidgety and nervous. All she could smell was his warm, spicy scent and every breath she took seemed to make the throbbing ache between her legs worse until she thought she would go crazy.

  As soon as the shuttle docked with the ship, Emily was up and through the airlock in a flash. She had to get away from the big Kindred and his maddening scent. Her breasts ached—they were fuller than ever—but they were no longer her primary concern. Now she just wanted to get to the bedroom as soon as possible and see if she could figure out what was wrong between her legs.

  She hurried down the long metal corridor to the bedroom Tragar had put her in before—his bedroom which was probably the last place she ought to be but Emily didn’t know where else to go. Her jog down the corridor irritated the affected area and jiggled her full breasts painfully but she couldn’t slow down—she had to find out what was going on now. The door slid shut behind her and she went over to the huge bed, barely noticing that the fire bubbles in the fireplace had turned a tranquil blue.

  God, I’m so sensitive! She winced as she raised her long pale green skirt and looked down at herself. What’s wrong with me? Is it the aftereffects of that star-silver dildo thing kicking in?

  Whatever it was, the problem was certainly severe. Her outer pussy lips were full and swollen and the little pink pearl of her clit was thrusting out prominently, as though begging for attention. The aching need she felt seemed to center there, in her clit.

  Looking at herself, Emily felt that if she could just have an orgasm, she might be able to alleviate the strange craving she felt growing in her. Come to think of it, maybe an orgasm would help her nectar flow too. She felt so pent up inside—like a bomb waiting to go off. She needed to release all this tension and then she’d feel better.

  Eagerly, she reached between her legs, ready to take care of all her problems in one fell swoop. But the minute her fingers came in contact with the swollen folds of her pussy, she gasped in pain.

  “Ow! What the Hell?” The sharp burst of agony was so unexpected her knees almost buckled and she nearly fell off the side of the bed. What was going on? Certain that it must have been a mistake, she tried again—more gently this time.

  But the moment her fingertips made contact with her pussy she cried out in pain. It felt like she’d been stung by a bee and the stinger was still in her, making every touch pure agony.

  “Khalla? Are you well?”

  Tragar’s deep voice behind her made her jerk and gasp. Quickly, she smoothed down her skirt and turned to face him.

  “I…uh…” She cleared her throat, trying to think of an explanation and hoping he hadn’t seen her groping between her legs.

  “Are your breasts full of nectar again?” He frowned at her, eyeing the way her round globes were thrusting out under the pale green flower petal top. Her nipples were especially prominent—tenting the gauzy material and showing clearly through the ultra light fabric in a way that was both pornographic and painful. Honestly, her breasts had gotten so sensitive that even the light fabric hurt them but Emily had been so preoccupied with the pain and urgency in her pussy she’d barely noticed until now.

  “I…they are. Yes, they are,” she said quickly, forgetting she’d been trying to conceal this problem earlier. Now she was more concerned with hiding what was going on between her legs—it was so damn embarrassing.

  “Why did you not tell me?” Tragar demanded, coming to sit on the bed beside her. “Are you in pain?”

  “A…a little,” Emily confessed, biting her lip. This close to him, his warm, spicy scent was really hard to ignore and it made the throbbing between her legs so much worse she could hardly stand it.

  “You should have asked for help.” Tragar was already slipping off the bed to get on his knees before her. He was so tall this was much easier than if he’d simply tried to bend down while they were sitting side by side. But it put him between her legs, or it would have if Emily hadn’t closed her knees and shifted her hips to one side. The action put almost unbearable pressure on her incredibly sensitive pussy but she couldn’t help it—suddenly she would rather do anything than let him between her thighs.

  “Emily, are you all right?” The big Kindred looked at her, eyebrows raised questioningly.

  “Fine just…just my breasts hurt. That’s all,” she lied quickly. Part of her knew she ought to tell him something was wrong between her legs—he would probably understand it better than she would. But it was so embarrassing and weird and she kept having flashes of memory—Jason from high school saying that they should try something new…that she would like it…No! She pushed the thought away hastily. To distract Tragar, she fumbled clumsily with the adjustable straps on the pale green top, shortening them until the hem of the light garment was well above her nipples.

  The big Kindred’s expression darkened.

  “Your breasts are even fuller than they were last night! They must ache, my Khalla.” He cupped one full globe and traced the swollen pink peak very gently with his thumb.

  Emily bit back a moan at the answering surge in her swollen pussy. God, he was driving her crazy—even more so than he had the night before! And with every breath she drew in his maddening scent which made her squirm with unrequited lust. God, this was torture!

  “Are you certain the nectar build-up is the only thing bothering you?” Tragar was watching her restless movements with a skeptical look in his golden eyes.

  “Of course.” Emily forced herself to hold still, even though his light touch on her nipple and his warm scent were still driving her crazy. “I just didn’t want to ask you for help because I know you feel like it’s wrong…wrong to, you know, suck the nectar out of me.”

  “It is considered a grave offense,” he said, nodding. “But I believe it is a worse offense to leave you in pain…” He sighed. “Which I am guilty of doing. For that, I must ask your forgiveness.”

  “What? What do you mean? You didn’t know,” Emily protested.

  “I suspected. But I hoped I was wrong.”

  “Why? Because this is a sacrilege—blasphemy? Isn’t that what you called it?” She nodded down at her full breasts. There was a tiny golden droplet on the one he was cupping now—it was almost as if her body was anticipating his touch, as if her breasts were ready to give up their nectar but only for his touch.

  “Not for that reason.” Tragar looked troubled. “You have never asked me why it is considered blasphemy to drink a Khalla’s nectar. It is because draining a Khalla’s breasts and swallowing her bount