He knelt between her legs but Trin pushed him away.
“You can’t be serious! You told me this would make you feel less of a male—subjugated…dominated. I know you well enough to know that you’re proud—as proud as I am. You don’t want to submit to this, Thrace.”
“I’d rather submit to you than see your professional reputation ruined! Than see you never be able to trade again, either here on Yonnie Six or on your home planet.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’d rather do this than let you be shamed in front of your mother.”
Trin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
“What do you know or care about my mother?”
“I know that you care about her and you care what she thinks of you. Look, Trin…” He rose to his feet, the heart’s blood phallus still held loosely in one hand. “I have no parents left—my Sire was killed when I was only sixteen cycles old. But you do—you have your mother. You shouldn’t be shamed in front of the one whose good opinion matters to you most.”
What he was saying made sense but somehow Trin wasn’t listening to it. Sixteen cycles old. His father was killed when he was only sixteen cycles old… Why did that detail bother her so much? For an instant she seemed to see an older male Havoc—one that looked remarkably like Thrace—being shot with a blaster. A huge, bloody hole opened in his chest…he fell to his knees…somewhere a familiar voice cried out in shock and pain…
Then the image was gone. But it left Trin shaken. So shaken she couldn’t stand and had to go sit on the edge of the sleeping platform. To her dismay, Thrace followed her.
“Please, Thrace,” she said, putting her head in her hands. “I can’t…can’t do that. So don’t ask me any more.”
“What else are you going to do?” he asked harshly. “How else are we going to get out of this with your reputation intact? How else are you going to pay off your ship? There is no other option—I know without asking that letting me penetrate you is out of the question.”
“I…” Trin bit her lip, the blood rushing to her face. “You know…how I feel about that.”
“Yeah, I know.” His deep voice was bitter. “I know better than you do—you’re of two minds about it.”
“What do you mean?” She looked at him, deeply troubled.
“I mean your body wants it desperately—your scent tells me so.” He inhaled deeply, his eyes going half-lidded with desire again. “You’re hot for it, baby. But your beliefs…they won’t let you give in to your physical needs.” He sighed. “And I would never ask you to abandon those beliefs. Not for me or anyone.”
“What about you?” Trin asked desperately. “What about your beliefs?”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling with the motion.
“Don’t have any particular beliefs about letting someone fuck me,” he said bluntly. “I don’t like the idea but that’s not the same as thinking I’ll be cursed to the Seven Hells or wherever it is that damn judgmental goddess of yours sends you if you let a male’s shaft inside you.”
“But…I don’t even know how to go about it,” Trin whispered. She could feel her resolve weakening which she knew was wrong. But Thrace was right—what else could they do?
You could let him penetrate you, whispered a little voice in her head. No one would ever have to know…
I would know, Trin told the little voice fiercely. And the Goddess would know. I would never be able to take it back…never be able to atone for it. Letting him do that to me—no matter how much I want it—would stain my soul forever. I would never be free of that sin…never be forgiven for it. No matter how close I may have come to it or how much I care for Thrace, that is one line I cannot, I must not cross.
“Mistress…” Thrace was on his knees before her again and somehow he was raising her skirts and spreading her legs. “Let me help you put on the phallus. We’ll go step by step…you can do this.” He took a deep breath. “And I can too. It’s the only way.”
“I don’t know…” Trin began but he was already licking her, dragging his hot tongue in long, slow strokes over her heated pussy, making her moan with need. Before she knew it, he was fitting the heart’s blood phallus to her entrance and entering her slowly and gently, seating the thick shaft firmly inside her pussy.
“That’s right, Mistress,” he growled softly as the head of the phallus kissed the back of her tight channel. “That’s right, take it all in…so that you can take me.”
“Ah! Goddess!” Trin moaned, bucking her hips up to meet the thrust of the phallus. If it was so wrong to allow anything inside her here, in this most secret spot, why did it feel so Goddess-damned good? She had no answers. And before she could think of any, Thrace was pressing a small, cool cylinder into the palm of her hand. Trin looked down at it uncertainly. “What—?”
“To prepare me.” Thrace’s voice was a low growl and his silver-blue eyes were troubled but he seemed absolutely sure about this all the same. “Unless you’d rather I did it myself?”
“Oh…oh, no. No, of course not.” Trin suddenly understood. With trembling hands, she unscrewed the lid of the small container and squeezed something cool and slippery out into her fingers.
Thrace was already kneeling at the side of the bed but now he removed the black silk loincloth which had covered the front and back of his crotchless black leather trousers. Folding his arms on the top of the bed, he spread his legs, giving her access to his tight, muscular ass. Then he looked back at Trin.
“Go on—do it.”
“All…all right.”
Awkwardly she knelt beside him, excruciatingly aware of the way the heart’s blood phallus felt moving inside her as she did so. The other end of the phallus—the golden rod carved with elaborate, flowing script and characters, stuck out in front of her strangely. Was she really going to use this on Thrace? Was she really going to take him this way?
What else could she do?
Reaching between his spread thighs, she found the small, tight opening. He was clenched as tight as a fist and for a moment Trin wished she had the same ability he did to loosen and relax tense flesh. But she had not been born Havoc with such innate skills—the slippery substance and her own slender fingers would have to do.
Slowly, her hands trembling, she tried to massage the lube into his entrance. Thrace said nothing. He only buried his face in his muscular arms and took deep, gulping breaths as Trin penetrated him first with one fingertip…and then two. How widely would he need to be stretched to take the golden end of the heart’s blood phallus? And would she really be able to help prepare him? She had been working on him for a good while now and he still seemed as tight as he’d been to begin with.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I…I guess I need more of this stuff.” She reached for the small tube again but Thrace surprised her by turning and grasping her wrist.
“Stop.” His voice was hoarse, a deep, jagged growl.
“Oh. Of course I’ll stop. We don’t have to—”
“No, I mean stop trying to prepare me. This…” he gestured to himself with the other hand. “This is as prepared as I’m going to get. I can’t loosen up for you. I can’t relax. All I can do is take it. So go on, Mistress—give it to me.”
“Thrace…” Trin cupped his cheek with her free hand. “Goddess, you’re shaking.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just nerves. Do it. Please just do it and get it over with, Master—I mean, Mistress.”
Trin frowned at his slip.
“Thrace, what’s going on? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing.” But his eyes slid to the side and wouldn’t meet hers when he said it.
Trin regarded him uneasily. The Havoc was so big—so massive and powerful. He was so much taller than her—his shoulders were fully twice as broad as hers and he probably weighed three times as much as she did, all of it solid muscle. And yet here he was, humbling himself before her, giving himself freely. But somehow she sensed it was more than just his pride he was going to be losing if she went through with this.