By: Evangeline Anderson

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.”