15 Targeted (14 page)

“I am doing the only thing I
can
do.” To her shock and dismay, he was pulling up the pale blue lace nighty.

“Hey!” Emily protested as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her matching pale blue panties and tugged them down, baring her ass.
“Hey!”
She struggled against him and part of her knew this would have been terrifying if not for the presence of the
other
. After what Grayson had done to her, a strange man pushing up her night dress and pulling down her panties ought to send her into a full blown panic attack. But somehow instead she was still hot—still deep in need and longing for what the
other
insisted they needed—a male—the right kind of male—
this
male. “Please!” she begged, struggling against him.

The big Kindred held her down effortlessly with one hand and when Emily caught a glimpse of his face, she saw a stoic kind of shame stamped on his strong features. It was as though he was preparing to do a task he knew was wrong but necessary.

“Forgive me,
Khalla,”
he growled. “But this is the only way.”

And then he began to spank her.

* * * * *

The little female wiggled and squirmed in his lap, crying and begging as blow after blow fell on her soft, rounded buttocks. Tragar steeled himself against her cries and tried not to notice how good her lush body felt when she struggled against him.

Truthfully this wasn’t at all what he wanted to do to her. What he
wanted
to do was take her up on her invitation and make love to her. To roll that sweet, curvy body under his and press deep between her thighs to fill her with his shaft. The delicious, heady scent of her heat, the aroma of desire rising from between her full thighs, was like a drug—maddening…intoxicating. Only knowing how dangerous their situation was enabled him to keep from taking her.

Instead, he concentrated on trying to drive back the
Kalor,
to keep her from slipping into the second stage or
Scintil
as her
Kit’tara
emerged. His hand rose and fell as he held her down, turning her pale, innocent buttocks a rosy red. He didn’t know if what he was doing would help or not but he had to try it—it was either this or give in to the lust and the breeding madness which could kill her if it came on too soon.

“
The Tenrah is a difficult and dangerous time for the Khalla when it comes upon her,”
Tragar remembered his old instructor, Xen’dex lecturing.
“The emergence and coming forward of the Kit’tara brings with it uncontrollable lust and desires so strong they are impossible for the Khalla to fight. And yet…”
He had raised a finger, addressing all the young males eagerly hanging on his words.
“And yet it is not always advisable to allow a Khalla to give in to these lusts to breed and bond with a male.”

“
Why not, Master?”
one of the young males had asked respectfully.
“Isn’t that the desired achievement of the Tenrah, for the female’s true self to take form and a bond to be formed to the male of her choice?”

“
It is indeed.”
Xen’dex had nodded his grizzled head.
“But it must be done properly or death, not bonding will be the result. To begin with there are four stages of Tenrah—Kalor, Scintil, Vlammen, and Hel. Some stages may be delayed but none must be skipped entirely. A Khalla may die if she breeds before going through the stages in the proper order. At the very least her Tenrah will be delayed—sometimes for years—and she will have intolerable pain, especially if she is bred by a wrong or incompatible male.”

“
But I thought you said the Kit’tara coming forward causes uncontrollable lust,”
one of the other males protested.
“What can you do if that starts happening? How can you keep it from overtaking her?”

“
There are ways—some stages are easier to control than others. With Kalor, the simplest way is pain.”

“
Hurt
her?”
There had been a horrified murmur from the assembled males. Kindred held females in the highest regard and would rather die than raise a hand against them. And a
Khalla
was the rarest and most esteemed female of all—some said each was, in a way, the Goddess taking corporeal form to come among them. To hurt or wound such a female was not just wrong—it was blasphemy.

“
This is the only time—the
only time—
when such an action is acceptable,”
Xen’dex had said, raising his voice to be heard above the angry protests.
“And it must be done properly with love and respect. You must punish her—treat her as a youngling who has disobeyed. Take her over your knee and apply only such force as is necessary to drive the Kit’tara back.”

“
You mean…
spank
her?”
Tragar had asked incredulously.

Xen’dex had nodded.

“
Indeed. Before the two parts of the Khalla merge, the Kit’tara is a reckless force—all appetite and no caution. She is like a defiant child, intent on getting what she wants. And like a defiant child, she does
not
enjoy punishment. So you must use whatever means necessary to drive her back. If not, the Kit’tara may force the Khalla to go through the stages of Tenrah too quickly and cause madness or death as it emerges.”

It was only this old memory that Tragar had to go on—only the hope that he could keep Emily safe from herself and from the new hungers and desires being born inside her that led him to do as he did now. He would never have raised a hand to a female otherwise—especially not a
Khalla.
He gave her another hard, measured slap to her bare buttocks and noticed that she had suddenly gone limp in his lap.

“
Khalla?”
he muttered uncertainly. “Emily?”

Then he heard the soft sound of her sobbing and his heart clenched in his chest.

Gods, what had he done?

Chapter
Nine

Emily finally stopped struggling and lay limp across the big Kindred’s knee, the tears rolling down her cheeks. The
other
had at last receded and with her she had taken the shameless lust and reckless desire Emily had been feeling ever since she took the first, deep breath of his scent and lost herself in need. She was left with only a sense of shame so deep it seared her to the bone.

Oh God, the way I acted…the way I came on to him…I practically begged for it!
It was the same way she had acted with Grayson all those years ago back in college. The same behavior which had gotten her into the worst situation of her life.
But do I learn from my past mistakes? Do I? Oh, no—I have to go and repeat them! Repeat them and make a fool of myself. God, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I control myself?

She had no answers for the questions. It was tempting to blame the
other
and say it was all
her
fault but though Emily tried, she knew deep down it wasn’t a valid excuse.
“Your Kit’tara is part of you,”
Tragar had told her and she knew it was true though she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She wouldn’t have acted that way if somewhere, down inside, she didn’t want to.

“
Khalla?
Emily?” The spanking stopped abruptly which was a relief—that big hand of his really
hurt
when it connected. But even when the pain stopped, she couldn’t stop the tears. “Emily?” he asked again and raised her gently to look her in the face.

“Don’t.” Emily pulled away from him and tried to sit on the side of the bed but her bottom was much too sore. “Ouch!” She jumped and turned on her side, rolling away from him.

He got up without a word and left her there. Emily didn’t blame him. After the way she’d thrown herself at him, of course he wanted to get away. That thought didn’t help the pain and shame she felt, however. Rolling onto her stomach in the middle of the vast bed, she buried her face in the gold and red coverlet and let the sobs take her.

Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I fight the urges—fight the other when she comes forward?

Maybe because you don’t want to fight her,
whispered a snarky little voice in her brain.
Maybe because you’re bad and you want bad things…wrong things…maybe you deserve everything that’s ever happened to you…

The flow of self recrimination was cut off abruptly when something damp and soothing was applied to her stinging bottom.

“Oh!” Emily jumped and looked around to see Tragar sitting beside her. He had a bowl filled with liquid in one hand and with the other, he was pressing what felt like some kind of cool compress to her wounded behind. “What…” Emily cleared her throat and tried again. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make amends.” His rumbling voice sounded deeply remorseful. “Will you allow it?”

“I…um…” Emily suddenly became aware that her nighty was still rucked up and her panties were down around her knees. She felt almost unbearably exposed but her ass really
did
hurt and the cool cloth was as soft as silk to her stinging flesh. Tragar was watching her patiently, waiting to hear her answer. Finally, she nodded and buried her face in her arms. “All right,” she whispered.

“Forgive me.” His deep voice was surprisingly filled with pain. “I told you there are ways to hold the
Kalor
back but I didn’t want to use them on you. I…I felt I had no choice.”

Emily felt a jagged little laugh escape her. “Of course not. “I gave you ample reason to do what you did.”

“It was the only way to drive your
Kit’tara
back,” he murmured, dipping the cloth in the bowl again and pressing it gently to her sore bottom. “You were becoming most…insistent.”

“Insistent about throwing myself at you. And asking you to…to… Oh God…” Emily muffled a fresh sob against her arm. “God, I’m so
sorry…”

“No.” Suddenly she was being lifted from the bed until she came face to face with him. The big Kindred held her gently but firmly by the arms and looked into her eyes. “No,” he said again, frowning. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Yes I do after the way I acted—the way I let her
make
me act,” Emily flared at him.

“The
Kit’tara
is a force to be reckoned with,” he said gruffly. “When it emerges, it brings uncontrollable desires…unquenchable lusts. You are not to blame for any of that.”

“Yes, I am,” Emily said stubbornly. “I
should
have controlled it—should have found a way to shut it down somehow.”

He frowned.

“There was no way for you to—”