Brides Of The Kindred: Chained Part 3

"I dreamed of you, too," Maggie whispered as she snipped the black leather collar from his neck. Was it her imagination or did those strange, pale blue eyes turn briefly red? "For the past few weeks. I...I don't know why."

"Neither...do I." He coughed weakly. "Water...please."

"Oh, of course!" Remembering how thirsty he had always been in her dreams, Maggie cupped one hand and scooped up some cold, refres.h.i.+ng water from the little brook. Then she tilted it carefully into his mouth...or tried to anyway. Because try as she might, the water wouldn't go past his lips. It slid past his mouth and over his cheeks but something always seemed to keep it from going in. Maggie tried again and again until he shook his head.

"No use. Must...break the barrier."

"There's a barrier around your mouth?" Then she remembered what the evil Lady Pope'nose had said. "Of course, it's this d.a.m.n dust, isn't it?"

She stopped trying to tilt the water into his mouth. Instead, she scooped up a handful of water and tried to wash the verium dust off his face.

It didn't work. Though she tried first with her hand and then with one of her dress's ridiculously trailing sleeves soaked in water, the silver-gray dust wouldn't come off.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" she muttered at last in frustration. "Why won't this d.a.m.n stuff come off?"

"Told you...must break the barrier."

To her alarm, his voice sounded weaker again and his eyes were fluttering closed.

"Break the barrier? But how?" she begged, patting his cheek. "Hey, come back to me. Tell me how to help you!"

His eyes opened again, their strange, oval pupils so much like a cat's looking into hers. "Kiss...of life."

"I don't understand. You want me to kiss you? Why?"

"Must give water...mouth to mouth. Only skin unpolluted...by the varium... can disrupt its field."

"Mouth to mouth? You mean you want me to take a mouthful of water and then..." Maggie couldn't finish.

He nodded weakly. "It's...only way. Please...so thirsty."

It seemed like an incredibly strange and intimate act to be performing with a stranger but Maggie didn't know what else to do. Kneeling down, she got a big mouthful of the cold, clear water. Then she pillowed the prisoner's head in her lap-which wasn't easy because all of him was heavy-and pressed her lips to his.

The moment she let the water rush from her mouth to his, she could tell it was working. He drank from her thirstily and not a single drop was spilled from the side of his mouth.

When she finally pulled away from the strange kiss, he looked up at her, his eyes blazing and whispered, "More."

"Of course," Maggie whispered.

She did it again, taking another mouthful and sealing her lips to his. And then again and again. It occurred to her after the fourth or fifth time that if the seal was broken, she should probably give him water from her cupped hands instead. But by that time she was kind of enjoying herself. It had been a long time since she'd kissed anyone-Donald considered the activity unsanitary and unnecessary-and she'd never kissed anyone even remotely like the prisoner.

Her heart beat harder and her lips tingled when she pressed them to his. His mouth tasted faintly of cinnamon or maybe some other exotic spice. Plus he was so huge and yet so helpless with his head still pillowed in her lap. If he'd been standing up or even kneeling, she would have felt intimidated by his size and muscular physique. As it was, she felt perfectly confident and also protective of him. I have to do this-I have to save him, she told herself. There's no choice if I want him to live.

Maggie wasn't sure when her life-giving gesture-what the prisoner had called the kiss of life-turned into an actual kiss. She only knew that one minute she was sealing her lips to his to give him water...and the next his tongue was stroking lightly over hers.

Her eyes drifted closed and she cradled his head closer, forgetting to go back for more water. Instead, she concentrated on the warm, cinnamon taste of his mouth and the feel of his tongue exploring her.

The prisoner seemed to be enjoying the kiss too. He made a low, approving growl at the back of his throat that seemed to vibrate through her entire body.

The sound shook Maggie out of the strange trance she'd somehow fallen into. With a little gasp, she pulled back from him, breaking the kiss. Her heart was pounding and for a moment, she felt frozen to the spot.

The prisoner opened his strange blue eyes and looked up at her. His tongue traced his lips, as though he enjoyed the lingering taste of her mouth on his.

"Why did you stop?" he murmured in a soft, deep voice.

"I...Because I..." Maggie shook her head. "We can't...we have to get you out of here. There's no time for this...this kind of thing."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Afraid you'll have to make time. If you're serious about getting me out."

"What...what do you mean?" Her heart was still pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. "I unchained you and took off your collars and broke the verium barrier. You should be good to go-right?"

"I would be...if it wasn't for all this d.a.m.n dust." He nodded down at his skin which was still coated with the silver-gray verium. "Need you to wash it off me. Should be able to...now that the verium seal is gone."

Maggie was half appalled, half embarra.s.sed...and maybe just a tiny bit l.u.s.tful? Was he actually saying that she had to wash the dust off his entire, mostly naked body?

"Can't you?" she asked awkwardly. "I mean, now that you're feeling better..."

"Still...weak..." He closed his eyes and groaned expressively. "Please...need your help."

Maggie hesitated-she was engaged. There was no way she ought to be putting her hands all over a mostly naked man. Especially an extremely hot and mustcular mostly naked man. But in this case, she decided, she would have to make an exception. There was nothing else she could do if she wanted to save the prisoner. And there was no point in coming in here and freeing him from all his restraints only to leave him lying on the floor, unable to move because she felt too guilty to do what had to be done.

"All right," she said. "Here goes."

She started with his face, pouring cool handfuls of water over his cheeks and forehead and hair. Now that the seal or barrier was broken, the dust came off easily although it seemed to help when she stroked the water through his hair and rubbed his skin with her fingers. She tried using the sleeve of her green dress again but that only seemed to smear the dust. After trial and error she found it came off best when she used skin-to-skin contact.

"Feels so good," the prisoner groaned softly as she finished his face and started on his broad, muscular chest. "Your hands...so soft and gentle."

"Thank you." Maggie could feel her cheeks getting hot but she continued on, scooping up water from the stream and brus.h.i.+ng it over the broad, flat planes of his chest. "I'm...uh, glad you're feeling better."

"Felt better the first...minute I saw you." He looked up at her again, his eyes holding some emotion she couldn't read. "You wept for me...shared my pain. Why?"

"I don't know, exactly." Maggie shrugged awkwardly. "I just...can't stand to see anyone being hurt like that. It's awful."

He frowned. "Just felt sorry for me, huh? Can't stand to see an animal tortured."

"No, not like that," she protested. "I just-"

"I thought...maybe because of the dreams." He coughed. "Didn't know...if you would come back."

"I couldn't just leave you here-especially now that she has that terrible Hurkon collar. If I would have known what she wanted to use it for, I never would have agreed to bring it!"

Maggie finished with his chest and back and started on his legs. They weren't as saturated with the silver-gray dust as the upper part of his body was so it wasn't too hard to get them clean-although she did blush when she rubbed water over his knees and lower thighs. Thank goodness for his loincloth-she really didn't need to be seeing every single part of him while she was giving him an impromptu sponge bath.

"If you hadn't brought it, you never would have seen me," he pointed out. Then he looked pointedly down at her hands. "Hate to ask you but...there's a lot more dust to wash off."

"What? Where?" His skin looked mostly clean to her. It was a deep, dusky tan which made his pale eyes and his white teeth stand out even more. His hair and stubble, as she had expected, were a rich, glossy black like a raven's wing and his hair seemed to have a slight curl to it when she ran her fingers through the springy strands.

"Under." He nodded down at the loincloth. "Sorry...she made sure to coat me everywhere."

Maggie stopped for a minute, stunned. "You...but can't you...uh, do it yourself?"

"Still weak." His eyes fluttered closed as though in exhaustion. "Please...can't move until...all the dust is gone."

Maggie took a deep breath. Well, she hadn't gone into this rescue expecting to handle some stranger's business but that was hardly the point. She had started this and now she had to finish it. And besides, maybe she could just pour the water over him without touching anything at all.

That was what she intended to do, anyway.

Her hand shook as she raised the loincloth and she gave a little gasp at what she saw beneath. Even only half hard, he was big. Way bigger than anyone else in her limited experience-especially Donald whose equipment reminded her of a shy, skinny worm afraid to come out of its hole. In contrast, the prisoner had a python between his legs.

Trying to put the size comparison out of her mind, she concentrated on the matter at hand. As he had said, the prisoner was coated with the gray dust from his hip bones all the way down to his upper thighs. Clearly it had to come off.

She reached for a hand full of water and dribbled it over his naked hip but it barely touched the thick dust that coated him. Well, great-that clearly wasn't going to work. It was going to be a hands-on job, whether she liked it or not.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie got another handful of water and began to rub the area vigorously. But the prisoner caught her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Careful," he murmured, opening his eyes to look at her. "That's...sensitive territory. Be gentle."

"Oh, of course! I'm so sorry," Maggie exclaimed. Feeling even more nervous, she scooped up double handfuls of water and poured it over his crotch. But though the silver-gray dust ran off his flat hipbones in rivulets, the central area-say it, Maggie, she thought, his shaft-was not coming clean.

The prisoner seemed to realize this because he looked up at her again.

"Sorry, blondie...looks like you're going to have to touch it."

"I...but I..." Maggie looked at him helplessly.

"It's all right." He gave her a taunting little grin. "It doesn't bite. I promise."

"All right," she said at last, her heart drumming in her ears. "I...I'll try to be careful."

"I know you will," he murmured. "You've got a gentle touch."

"Thank you," she whispered awkwardly. Reaching for a handful of water, she took a deep breath and stroked it gently along the length of his long, thick shaft.

The rod of flesh seemed to pulse in her palm but her hand wasn't nearly large enough to cover his entire length. She reached for more water with her other hand and spread it over his thickness, using both hands to work on him now.

The prisoner groaned low in his throat and his hips pumped once, almost involuntarily. Maggie felt her cheeks heating-it was almost like she was jerking him off!

But I'm not-not really, she told herself hastily as she got more water. I'm just getting rid of the dust. That's all. But if that was so, why was she now working in rhythm, stroking his shaft up and down, letting it slide through her curled fingers as the prisoner moaned and pressed up into her hands? And why was he now completely erect, a pearly drop of prec.u.m beaded at the thick head of his straining c.o.c.k?

"So good," he groaned as she added more water and rubbed him even harder. "G.o.ds, your touch is amazing. Your sweet little hands..."

"That's enough!" Maggie stopped abruptly. "You're all clean now," she went on, when he looked up at her uncertainly. "You...you should be able to get it up. I mean, get up," she amended hastily, her cheeks burning. G.o.d, how was she going to explain this to Donald? What would he say when he knew what she had been up to?

This wasn't part of the plan, she thought wildly. None of this was. I was just supposed to get the doc.u.ments and go back to the s.h.i.+p. So how had she ended up kneeling on the floor, jerking off a man she'd never seen before except in her dreams?

Maggie had no idea but she did know somehow that this wasn't over yet.

He looked up at her, her adorably flushed cheeks and her tousled curls. Her oculars were slipping down her nose and he could almost make out the color of her eyes. He wanted a closer look but he sensed she wouldn't be up for that right now.

G.o.ds, her little hands had felt good on him! So soft and gentle and tentative but strong too, when they needed to be. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched in such a way. Mostly all the females that had been sent to him while he was still fighting were for breeding purposes only-none of them stayed long enough to form much of an attachment.

But this little one-the girl of his dreams-wasn't hardened or jaded like the females he'd been with in the past. She was innocent and sweet yet very brave. Touching him embarra.s.sed the h.e.l.l out of her but she'd done it anyway, because she knew it was the only way to help him. If only she'd helped him a little longer, he was certain he would have lost control completely.

Maybe it's better she stopped when she did, he thought darkly.

Wincing, he put his fingertips to his throat, where the black leather inhibitor had been for so many years. What would he be like without it? He only dimly remembered the incident which had prompted his master to make him wear it in the first place but it hadn't been pretty. He had never been allowed to take it off-not even in the arena when he fought at the Blood Circuit. He would never hurt this sweet, shy girl who had saved him-not on purpose, anyway. But without the inhibitor, he wasn't sure what the h.e.l.l he might do.

Well, the first thing to do is get out of here before Pope'nose shows up. True enough, and if his rescuer was really as innocent as she seemed, she might need some rescuing of her own to get out.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, he rose to his feet and held out a hand to her.

"Come on."

She looked up at him uncertainly. "What, you're better? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "You washed off the verium. My strength is returning."

"Uh-huh." She looked skeptical but allowed him to help her to her feet.

"Good." He nodded. "Let's go-you're coming with me."

"Wait a minute, go where?" she protested. "I never said I would go anywhere with you. I...I don't even know your name."

He sighed. "This isn't the best time for introductions but I was called Korexiroth during my time at the Blood Circuit."

"Ooookay," she said slowly. "That's quite a mouthful."

"It means The Demon." He watched her closely, wanting to see if she was afraid of him. But though his fighting name had struck terror in the hearts of countless opponents, she still showed no fear. Brave little thing.

"That's...interesting," she said at last. "Maybe I could just call you Kor for short? Unless you go by something else when you're not in the, uh, Blood Circuit, whatever that is?"

"Before I was The Demon, my master just called me 'slave.'" He shrugged. "I don't have any other name."

"Kor it is," she decided.

"Kor it is," he repeated gravely. He wondered if she knew that the giving of a name const.i.tuted owners.h.i.+p. She had, in effect, just claimed him. Kor didn't know how he felt about that-though he'd been raised a slave, a part of him had always remained free. What was it about this little female with her blonde curls that made him think she could tame that part and make it her own?

Don't be stupid, he told himself firmly. She's just a girl. True, you dreamed about her and she rescued you but there has to be some explanation for that. Maybe something to do with that d.a.m.n Dream Gas they're all using here all the time.

"So what's your name?" he asked, trying to move on.

"Maggie."

"Maggie...Maggie..." He rolled the name on his tongue. "I like it. What does it mean?"

"Mean? Uh..." She shook her head. "I don't know. We don't...names don't always mean something where I come from."