wilbursmith_warlock-第43节

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　　Covering　the　marriage　bed　was　a　sheepskin　that　had　been　bleached　shining　white。　Lord　Naja　inspected　it　carefully；　and　when　he　was　assured　of　its　perfection　he　went　out　on　to　the　terrace　and　inhaled　deeply　the　cool　river　air。　A　slave　brought　him　a　bowl　of　spiced　wine；　and　he　sipped　appreciatively。　It　was　the　first　he　had　allowed　himself　all　evening。　Naja　knew　that　one　of　the　most　vital　secrets　of　survival　was　to　keep　his　wits　clear　in　the　presence　of　his　enemies。　He　had　watched　all　the　other　guests　drink　themselves　into　a　pitiful　state。　Even　Trok；　in　whom　he　placed　so　much　trust　and　confidence；　had　succumbed　to　his　animal　nature…Naja　had　last　seen　him　puking　copiously　into　a　bowl　held　for　him　by　a　pretty　Libyan　slave　girl。　When　he　had　finished　Trok　had　wiped　his　mouth　on　the　girl's　skirts　then　lifted　them　over　her　head；　pushed　her　down　on　the　grassy　sward　and　mounted　her　from　behind。　Naja's　fastidious　nature　had　been　offended　by　this　display。
　　
　　He　returned　to　the　chamber　as　two　slaves　staggered　in；　bearing　between　them　a　cauldron　of　hot　water；　in　which　floated　lotus　petals。　Naja　set　aside　the　wine　bowl　and　went　to　bathe。　One　of　the　slaves　dried　and　braided　his　hair；　while　the　other　brought　him　a　clean　white　robe。　He　dismissed　them　and　returned　to　the　marriage　bed。　He　lay　upon　it；　stretched　out　his　long；　elegant　limbs　and　rested　his　braided　head　on　the　gold…inlaided　ivory　headrest。
　　
　　From　the　far　end　of　the　chamber　came　the　rustle　of　clothing　and　feminine　whispers。　Once　he　recognized　Heseret's　giggle　and　the　sound　aroused　him。　He　propped　himself　up　on　one　elbow　and　looked　across　at　the　bamboo　screen。　The　gaps　in　it　were　just　large　enough　to　afford　him　tantalizing　glimpses　of　pale　smooth　skin。
　　
　　Power　and　political　aspiration　were　the　main　reasons　for　this　marriage；　but　they　were　not　the　only　ones。　Although　he　was　a　warrior　by　trade　and　an　adventurer　by　disposition；　Naja　had　a　voluptuous　and　sensual　nature。　For　years　he　had　watched　Heseret　surreptitiously；　and　his　interest　had　increased　at　each　stage　in　her　journey　towards　womanhood；　from　infancy　through　gawky　girlhood；　and　then　that　tantalizing　period　when　her　breast　buds　had　bloomed　and　the　puppy　fat　had　melted　away；　to　leave　her　body　delicate　and　graceful。　The　smell　of　her　had　changed　too：　whenever　she　was　close　he　had　detected　the　faint　sweet　musk　of　womanhood；　which　enthralled　him。
　　
　　Once　when　out　hawking　Naja　had　e　across　Heseret　and　two　of　her　friends　collecting　lotus　blooms　to　plait　into　garlands。　She　had　looked　up　at　him　as　he　stood　above　her　on　the　riverbank；　and　her　wet　skirts　had　clung　to　her　legs　so　the　skin　shone　through　the　fine　linen。　She　had　brushed　the　hair　off　her　cheeks　with　an　innocent　gesture　that　was　nevertheless　intensely　erotic。　Even　though　her　expression　had　remained　serious　and　chaste；　the　slanted　eyes　had　hinted　at　a　sly；　lascivious　streak　in　her　that　had　fascinated　him。　This　revelation　had　lasted　only　a　moment　before　she　had　called　to　her　friends　and　splashed　to　the　bank　then　raced　away　across　the　grassy　field　towards　the　palace。　He　had　watched　her　long　wet　legs　glinting；　the　round　buttocks　oscillating　and　changing　shape　beneath　the　linen　skirt；　and　suddenly　his　breath　had　e　short　and　fast。
　　
　　At　the　memory　his　loins　stirred　and　quickened。　He　longed　for　her　to　e　out　from　behind　the　screen；　but　perversely　he　wanted　to　delay　the　moment　so　that　he　could　savour　the　anticipation　to　the　full。　It　happened　at　last。　Two　of　the　handmaidens　led　her　out；　then　slipped　away　quietly　leaving　her　standing　alone　in　the　middle　of　the　floor。
　　
　　Her　nightrobe　fell　from　her　throat　to　her　ankles。　It　was　of　a　rare　and　precious　silk　from　the　eastern　lands；　creamy　in　colour　and　so　fine　that　it　seemed　to　float　around　her　like　river　mist；　stirring　with　every　breath　she　took。　There　was　an　oil　lamp　on　a　tripod　in　the　corner　behind　her；　and　the　soft　yellow　light　shone　through　the　silk；　highlighting　the　curves　of　her　hips　and　shoulders　so　they　shone　softly　as　polished　ivory。　Her　bare　feet　and　her　hands　were　dyed　with　henna。　Her　face　had　been　washed　clean　of　makeup　so　the　young　blood　beneath　the　flawless　skin　delicately　rouged　her　cheeks；　and　her　lips　trembled　as　though　she　were　on　the　point　of　tears。　She　hung　her　head　in　an　appealingly　girlish　manner　and　looked　up　at　him　from　under　lowered　lashes。　Her　eyes　were　green；　and　his　blood　thrilled　again　as　he　detected　that　same　wicked　glint　in　them　that　had　originally　intrigued　him。
　　
　　Turn　round；'　he　said　gently；　but　his　throat　was　as　dry　as　if　he　had　sucked　the　juice　from　a　green　persimmon。　She　obeyed　him；　but　with　a　dream…slow　movement；　rolling　her　hips；　her　belly　gleaming　softly　through　the　silk。　Her　buttocks　undulated；　round　and　lustrous　as　ostrich　eggs；　and　the　shining　tresses　of　her　hair　swayed。
　　
　　'You　are　beautiful。'　His　voice　caught。　Now　a　hint　of　a　smile　lifted　the　corners　of　her　lips；　and　she　wet　them　with　the　tip　of　a　tongue　that　was　as　pink　as　that　of　a　kitten。　'I　am　glad　that　my　lord　regent　finds　me　so。'
　　
　　He　rose　from　the　bed　and　went　to　her。　He　took　her　hand；　which　was　warm　and　soft　in　his。　He　led　her　to　the　bed；　and　she　followed　him　without　hesitation。　She　knelt　upon　the　white　sheepskin　and　hung　her　head　so　that　her　hair　veiled　her　face。　He　stood　over　her　and　leaned　forward　until　his　lips　touched　it。　She　exuded　the　elusive　fragrance　of　a　healthy　young　woman　in　the　first　flush　of　physical　arousal。　He　stroked　her　hair　and　she　looked　up　at　him　through　the　dark　curtain。　Then　he　parted　the　tresses　and　cupped　her　chin　with　one　hand。　Slowly；　teasing　himself；　he　lifted　her　face。
　　
　　'You　have　eyes　like　Ikona；'　she　whispered。　Ikona　was　his　tame　leopard：　the　beast　had　always　frightened　and　fascinated　her。　She　felt　those　same　emotions　now　for　he　was　as　sleek　and　feline　as　the　great　cat；　his　eyes　yellow　and　implacable。　With　a　woman's　instinct　she　sensed　the　cruelty　and　ruthlessness　in　them；　which　evoked　in　her　emotions　that　she　had　never　before　experienced。　'You　also　are　beautiful；'　she　whispered；　and　it　was　true。　In　this　moment　she　realized　that　he　was　the　most　beautiful　creature　she　had　ever　known。
　　
　　He　kissed　her　and　his　mouth　startled　her。　It　tasted　of　some　ripe　fruit　she　had　never　eaten　before；　and　quite　naturally　she　opened　her　own　mouth　to　savour　it。　His　tongue　was　as　flickeringly　quick　as　a　snake's；　but　it　did　not　revolt　her。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　touched　it　with　her　own。　Then　he　placed　one　of　his　hands　behind　her　head　and　pressed　his　mouth　harder　against　hers。　She　was　so　lost　in　his　kiss　that　when　his　hand　closed　over　her　breast　she　was　unprepared。　Her　eyes　flew　open　and　she　gasped。　She　tried　to　pull　away　but　he　held　her；　and　now　he　caressed　her　with　a　gentle　but　skilful　touch　that　stilled　her　fears。　He　teased　out　her　nipple；　and　the　sensation　flowed　through　her　body；　rippling　down　her　arms　to　her　fingertips。　She　felt　a　sharp　disappointment　when　he　took　away　his　hand。　He　lifted　her　to　her　feet　so　she　stood　on　the　sheepskin　above　him　with　her　breasts　at　the　level　of　his　face。
　　
　　With　a　single　movement　he　swept　off　her　silken　robe　and　let　it　fall　to　the　floor。　Then；　as　he　sucked　her　engorged　nipple　deep　into　his　mouth；　she　cried　aloud。　At　the　same　time　one　of　his　hands　came　up　between　her　thighs　and　cupped　the　soft　nest　of　dark　fluff。
　　
　　She　had　not　the　slightest　inclination　to　resist　what　he　was　doing　to　her。　Instead　she　surrendered　herself　to　it。　From　what　her　slave　girls　had　told　her　she　had　been　terrified　that　he　might　hurt　her；　but　his　hands；　though　swift　and　strong；　were　gentle。　He　seemed　to　know　her　body　better　than　she　did　herself；　and　he　played　upon　it　with　such　skill　that　she　found　herself　drawn　deeper　and　deeper；　faster　and　faster　beneath　the　surface；　sinking　away　and　drowning　in　this　sea　of　new　sensations。
　　
　　She　surfaced　only　once　more　when　suddenly　she　opened　her　eyes　and　found　that　his　own　robe　was　gone；　and　that　he　stood　over　her　naked。　She　remembered　the　dream　in　which　he　had　had　the　same　thing　down　there　as　Stargazer；　the　stallion。　She　looked　down　in　trepidation；　but　it　was　nothing　like　the　dream：　it　was　smooth　and　rosy；　yet　hard　as　bone；　perfect　and　clean　in　form　as　a　temple　column。　Her　fears　evaporated　and　once　again　she　surrendered　herself　to　his　hands　and　his　mouth。　There　was　only　one　sharp　moment　of　stinging　pain；　but　that　was　much　later；　and　it　was　fleeting；　replaced　almost　as　swiftly　by　an　unaccustomed　but　wonderful　feeling　of　fullness。　Then　later　still　she　heard　him　cry　out　above　her。　The　sound　triggered　something　in　her　own　body；　turning　almost　unbearable　pleasure　into　its　own　kind　of　pain；　and　she　held　him　with　all　the　strength　of　her　encircling　arms　and　legs　and　cried　out　with　him。
　　
　　Twice　more　during　that　too…short　enchanted　night　he　forced　her　to　cry　out　in　that　same　frenzy　of　pleasure；　and　when　the　dawn　suffused　the　chamber　with　its　rose　and　silver　light　she　lay　still　in　his　arms。　She　felt　as　though　the　life　force　had　been　drawn　out　of　her；　as　though　her　bones　had　turned　soft　and　malleable　as　river　clay；　and　there　was　a　soft　ache　deep　in　her　belly　that　she　savoured。
　　
　　He　slipped　out　of　her　arms　and　she　just　had　the　strength　left　to　protest；　'Don't　go。　Oh！　Please