Whispers of the Flesh (7 page)

“Did this stage play have a story, or was it just a series of vignettes?”

“No, there was a story. A maidservant and the master of the house . . . well . . .”

“Let me guess,” said Lili. “The maid had been disobedient, and the master had to punish her.”

“Something like that. It was called ‘Taming the Trull—a Master’s Revenge.’ ”

“Tell me about it.”

David groaned theatrically. “He . . . he suspected she’d been stealing from him, pilfering small items, so he told his footman to keep an eye on her. The footman spied on her from behind a curtain as she started dusting and polishing her master’s sitting room. She dusted for a bit, and then she lay down on a couch and . . . lifted her skirts and . . .”

“Pleasured herself?”

“With the, er . . . handle of the duster.” David had never seen the female sexual organ before that evening, nor imagined that women engaged in such behavior. He’d watched with utter fascination . . . and an adamantine erection.

“What did she look like?”

“Bright red hair and an Irish complexion.”

“I take it the footman found this little display interesting.”

“He, er, rubbed himself as he watched her. He was a brawny fellow, tall and muscular, and he wore very snug breeches, so that one could see . . . well, that he was genuinely aroused.”

“It must have been quite a shock to you, in your naïveté, to witness such things,” she said.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was aghast.”

“But you didn’t leave.”

David sighed.

“What happened next?” Lili asked. “Did she steal something?”

Nodding, David said, “She took a silver wax sealer from the master’s writing desk and secreted it . . . inside herself . . .”

“The quim or the arse?” Lili asked, as conversationally as if she were making drawing room small talk.

“The, er, latter. She coated it first with some of the linseed oil she’d been using on the furniture. And then she got up and started polishing the desk with the seal still in her.” David heard himself saying these outrageous things with a sense of hypnotic detachment. “The footman came into the room and told her he’d keep mum about what he’d seen if she would give him a French trick. I didn’t know at the time what that meant. He took off his coat and opened his breeches, and she got down on her knees. I couldn’t believe it when she . . . took him into her mouth.”

“Did it excite you?”

“How could it not have?” He was hard as a club just remembering it all . . . and recounting it to the beguiling Lili as she floated so close, her hand light and warm on his shoulder, her legs brushing his from time to time as she treaded water.

“Did he come?” Lili asked.

Come.
David had always assumed that this word, with this particular connotation, was one that only men used, or were even aware of.
Fool.

He shook his head. “The master entered the room with a friend of his, both of them in riding clothes. He was livid when he saw what the help had been up to while he was away. The footman started babbling excuses, but the master would have none of it. He and his friend wrestled the fellow into a hardback chair, tied him up, and shoved a gag in his mouth.”

“With his breeches still open and his cock out, I suppose.”

“Er, yes. The master demanded of the maid whether she’d stolen anything. She denied it, showing him that her apron pockets were empty, but he didn’t believe her, so he ordered her to strip and hand him each piece of clothing to examine. She refused at first, until he threatened to sack her without references, and then she reluctantly undressed down to her stockings and a . . . It wasn’t an ordinary corset, because it didn’t come up to . . .” He gestured in the vicinity of his upper chest. “It was of black satin with a great deal of boning, very snug about the waist, like a wide, tight girdle. I don’t know what to call it.”

Lili chuckled. “It’s called a girdle. It’s for cinching in the waist while leaving the bosom unencumbered. Did she have beautiful breasts?”

“They were . . . very large and white.” And, if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d reddened her nipples with the same rouge she’d used on her lips. “The master and his friend stared at her quite openly as she disrobed, the tiedup footman, too, and I could see that all three of them were aroused. She said, ‘There, you see? You’ve found nothing because there was nothing to find.’ The master said, ‘We’ll see about that,’ and he ordered her to bend over and hold on to the writing desk, so that her . . . posterior aspect was facing the audience. He made her spread her legs, and then he searched . . . inside her for the seal.”

“The arse, or . . . ?”

“No, the, er . . . the other. He felt around with his fingers, shoving them deeper and deeper, the thumb, too, until his entire hand was buried to the wrist. The maid was groaning and struggling and begging him to stop—the friend had to hold her down. She admitted that she’d filched the seal, and told him where it was, but that only earned her a whipping on top of . . . the bit with the hand. He took a riding crop to her bum as he worked the hand around inside her, saying . . . well, some things I would rather not repeat.”

“You like it hard and nasty, don’t you, you thieving cunt? I’ve never felt such a wet pussy. Fucking whore. Trollop. Lying little slut. Let’s feel that clit—why it’s hard as a bullet.”

“He bet his friend ten quid that he could make her . . . well, bring her to climax in twenty seconds, and she said he couldn’t make her do it if she didn’t want to. He pulled the seal out part-way and shoved it in and out of her while stroking her very quickly with his fingertips, and she did climax—or pretended to. But Louis told me he was sure she really did, because the master had her stand up and turn ’round then, and she had a sort of mottled flush all over her chest and face. He said that happens to women when they come.”

David almost apologized for uttering so vulgar a word as “come.” Absurd, of course; Lili had used that word herself, and “cock” and “quim” and “arse.” He really was a prig.

“Some women flush like that,” Lili said, “especially the pale ones—but there are even women with my coloring who do.”

He wondered whether
she
did, but even in his current, serenely muddled state, he had the presence of mind not to inquire.

“What happened next?” she asked.

David suspected, from the breathiness of her voice and the way her eyes glistened in the dark, that his ribald recounting was affecting her the same way it was affecting him. He supposed the smutty little scenario, however brutal and unsavory, had been designed to titillate, and titillate it did. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he had the power to arouse this exquisite seductress without even touching her.

“The master ordered her to finish up the dusting and polishing just as she was, practically naked. He made her crawl on all fours to get under the furniture, that sort of thing. He and his friend sat on a chaise longue and smoked cigars and fondled themselves as they watched her. The footman was watching her, too. He was moaning through the gag and writhing and thrusting his hips.”

“He was still hard?” Lili asked.

“Oh, yes. The master laughed and said it looked as if the footman needed a good dusting, too. He had her brush him with the feather duster—his cock, I mean—very lightly, over and over again, until the poor bloke was bucking and thrashing like a wounded bear. The way the chair was creaking, I was sure it was going to break apart at any moment. It may have been just a stage play, but the sensation was obviously very real. Finally, his body went all rigid, and his eyes rolled up, and he . . . well, he ejaculated.”

“Just from being brushed with the duster?” Lili asked. “Are you sure he actually came, and didn’t just pretend?”

“It shot halfway across the stage.”

“Mm . . .”

“The master stretched out on the chaise then, and took out his cock, and had her sit astride him. He had her like that while his friend got behind her and . . .”

“Buggered her.”

David nodded. “He greased himself up with the linseed oil first, but she still gritted her teeth when he pressed into her. It started off fairly slow and controlled, with the men thrusting in the same rhythm and saying filthy things to the maid, but by the end, it was wild, a frenzy of writhing bodies. I believe she came twice. When the men came, they pulled out and did it on her. That was the end of the program. They actually took bows, all four of them.”

“Did you have a ‘change of heart’ then, as Louis had hoped?”

“Well . . . I didn’t admit as much, even to myself, but I did let him take me upstairs ‘to meet someone,’ who of course turned out to be a woman wearing naught but a lace shimmy and a string of pearls. He left me with her and went with one of the other whores.”

“Were you willing to let her ply her wares, as it were?”

“By that point, I was beside myself with lust. I would have done anything to assuage it. She said she knew I’d never been with a woman before—Louis had told her—and would I like to see a pussy up close? She didn’t wait for me to answer, just lifted her shimmy, propped a foot on a chair, and spread her . . . private parts wide open. She started unbuttoning my breeches, and I begged her to stop. She told me not to be shy, and kept at it. It wasn’t shyness, but rather a fear of humiliating myself by coming off in my drawers . . .” He let out a gust of air. “Which was precisely what I did.”

“Oh, David,” Lili murmured.

“She tried to reassure me, but she couldn’t quite contain her giggles, and I was . . .”He shook his head. “Utterly humiliated. I fled the brothel and flagged down a hack.” He lifted his shoulders. “And so ended my brush with defloration.”

“My poor, virtuous David.” Lili stroked his forehead, his cheek. She brushed her thumb over his lower lip, the sensation rawly carnal despite the relative innocence of the gesture. Even in near darkness, her skin had a luster to it that made him think of firelight through a frosty window. She was beyond ravishing; she was the most magnificent creature he had ever beheld.

She said, “You have a beautiful mouth, David. Have you ever been kissed?”

He swallowed, gave an infinitesimal shake of his head.

“Surely you don’t think
kissing
should be reserved exclusively for the marital bed,” she said.

“No. No, of course not. It’s just that . . . I’ve not actually had many opportunities to . . . be in the company of women.”

Lili took his face in both hands, prompting him to put his arms around her so that she wouldn’t sink. She cupped the back of his head, coaxing it gently down as she craned upward, her gaze on his mouth.

She whispered against his lips, “You are in the company of a woman now.”

Eight

L
ILI STOPPED BREATHING when her lips met David’s. She didn’t think she would ever grow blasé about first kisses, the shivery thrill they evoked, that rush of newness, anticipation, sexual promise. But to kiss a man who had never been kissed before, a gravely serious young man harboring deep, untapped passions . . . The sweet, hot pleasure of it made her heart thrum in her chest.

His mouth was soft and hot, unsure. He moaned when she deepened the kiss, sliding the tip of her tongue very lightly along the sensitive flesh inside his upper lip.

His arms tightened, crushing her to him. He pinned her against the wall of the pool, his mouth suddenly greedy and demanding, his erection prodding her belly. Through her breasts, she could feel the pummeling of his heart, like a fist trying to smash through a door.

She moved against him, desperate to ease the terrible lust that held her in its talons. He pressed himself to her, rubbing his cock against her belly, his hectic breathing, and hers, echoing in the little chamber.

She yanked his shirt up and reached between them to untie his drawers. He gasped as her fingers brushed the head of his cock through the thin linen.

“Oh, God.” Drawing back, he closed a quaking hand over hers. “Stop. Stop. I can’t . . . I can’t, Lili. I made a v—” He groaned like an enraged beast, slammed his fist against the stone wall of the pool. “
Goddammit.
I just can’t.”

He backed away from her, crossing himself as he whispered something, perhaps a mea culpa for the profanity, perhaps a plea for strength.

Lili had a much better view of him than he had of her, thanks to her ability to see in the dark. Her vision at night, or in a place like this, was similar to what a human might see on a cloudless night with a full moon. Colors were washed out, shadows black as pitch, and brighter areas, like faces, almost phosphorescent.

She said, “You’re a man, David, with a man’s needs. Why must you scourge yourself this way? I don’t understand.”

“And I can’t explain. By my word, if I were free to . . . do this in good conscience, I would. You’ve cast a spell upon me, Lili. I’ve never felt such passion, but . . .” He shook his head helplessly. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should never have told you all that, about the brothel and the play . . .”

“It wasn’t that which excited my passions,” she said. “My blood has been simmering since the moment I met you.”

He looked astounded.

“If you are under a spell,” she said, “then I am, too, because I am utterly in your thrall. I am weak with desire. If I cannot have you, then at least let me feel your body against mine, your hands upon me . . .” She took his hand and gently pressed it to her sex through the chemise, inciting a spasm of pleasure. “Please, David, I’m so close, I can’t bear it. I shan’t ask for more, I promise, but don’t deny me this, I beg you.”

He shifted his hand just slightly, molding it to the inflamed flesh, feeling its contours, one finger pressing on the seam between the lips.

She pushed against his hand. “Yes . . . David, please . . .”

“I shouldn’t,” he said in a low, unsteady voice—but he did not withdraw his hand.

“You promised me a wish.”

“Just one,” he said in a gently chiding voice that held a hint of amusement. “And I did swim with you.”

“That wasn’t a wish, it was an invitation. This”—she pressed his hand to her more firmly—“is my wish.”

He smiled and shook his head. “You are a witch.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He studied her in charged silence. Finally he said, “All right.”

She sighed in relief.

“But not here.” Nodding toward the
galerie,
he said, “There.”

Lili hoisted herself up with the aid of David’s hands about her waist—not that she needed the help, but men liked to do that sort of thing. David leapt up with masculine grace, wringing out his shirt as he looked around. “Are there matches for the candles?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said as she pulled the sodden chemise off and slung it aside, “but I rather fancy the dark.” Darkness eased the inhibitions of humans. It was one of the first things she’d learned as a young goddess with an unquenchable appetite for the beautiful
gabrus
who came to pay homage at her temple in Akkad every month when the moon was new.

It was dark, yes, but not so dark that David couldn’t see her standing naked before him. He surveyed her with those big, watchful eyes, his chest rising and falling beneath the damply clinging shirt, every muscle sharply delineated. The wet linen clung, as well, to his erection, which rose even taller as he took her in. He noticed the direction of her gaze and pulled his shirt away from his body.

“Lie with me,” she said, lowering herself onto a velvety rug heaped with pillows.

He lay on his side facing her, but without touching her. Lili took his hand, kissed his palm, and cupped it over a breast. He squeezed and stroked it, his expression rapt.

They kissed some more, and then Lili moved his hand from her breast to her sex, parting her legs a bit. He trailed his fingers very slowly along the slit, then into it, exploring her slippery inner lips with a curiosity that was both touching and intensely arousing.

She gasped in startled pleasure when a fingertip grazed her clit.

He felt the stiff little bud, saying, “Is . . . is this . . . ?”

“Yes. Oh, God, don’t,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “It’s too sensitive. I don’t want to come yet. Here.” She guided his hand lower, nudging his middle and index fingers inside her.

He propped himself up on his elbow, his expression one of utter fascination as he felt the damp, hot passage from within.

“Like this,” she breathed, pressing against his hand until his fingers were completely sheathed. Their movements, as he investigated her interior contours, made her hips tremble, her back arch.

“It feels amazing,” he murmured, lowering his head. His mouth felt hot and hungry against hers. He groaned when her thigh brushed his straining erection.

“I could kiss you, David,” she whispered.

“We
are
kissing.”

“No, I mean in the French manner, like in the play at the brothel. You must have wondered how it would feel to have a woman pleasure you with her mouth.”

Through a guttural chuckle, he said, “Hundreds of times—thousands. After I saw that play, I could think of little else, especially at night, when my passions are hardest to control. I still lie awake sometimes, imagining the sensation of a tongue . . . lips . . .” He shook his head, his jaw tight.

“Let me—”

“I can’t.”

“But it wouldn’t compromise your chastity, not really.”

Ruefully he said, “My chastity was compromised the moment our lips touched. Being with you like this is sinful enough. I do not care to compound that sin by letting you . . .” He sighed.

“I wish I could do that for you, David.”

“So do I, believe me.”

“Would it be as grievous an offense if you pleasured
me
that way?”

David’s gaze shifted to his hand, his fingers still half buried inside her. “I . . . No, I, um . . . I shouldn’t think so, but . . .”

“But you would rather not. I under—”

“What? No! No, I . . . I should very much like to. I just . . . I don’t really know how.”

“There’s no right way or wrong way.” Stretching out onto her back, she said, “Don’t think about what you’re doing, just do it.”

Lili shivered as he settled between her legs and gently spread her open. The anticipation as he dipped his head was maddening—the hot gusts of his breath, the tickle of his hair on her inner thighs. When she finally felt the first light sweep of his tongue, the pleasure was so acute that she cried out.

“Are you all right?” He tried to raise his head, but she pushed it back down, moaning, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

Clearly relishing the experience, David took his time about it. He probed her gently with his inquisitive tongue, licking the delicate little creases with languid thoroughness, as if to memorize their shape and taste.

Before long, Lili was panting and clutching at the pillows. Untutored, but unerring in his instinct, he gripped one writhing hip as he pushed the two fingers back into her, and then a third, thrusting them slowly as he lightly tongued her clit.

“Yes . . .” Lili grabbed his hair, her head thrown back in rapturous abandon. “Oh, David, yes . . .”

This—the gratification of her incessant, debilitating lust—was Ilutu Lili’s greatest joy and her most fundamental need, her very reason for being. To feel the mounting, heart-pounding thrill of an approaching climax was to be carried away into a different realm, one of this earth but not of this earth. It was like feeling the ocean heave beneath her as a wave surged into being, carrying her aloft as it rose higher, higher, and higher still . . .

When the wave crested past the point of no return, she loosed her grip on the earth and let go, floating in weightless expectation as the pleasure built quietly, inexorably . . .

Lili cried out as it crashed around her, shaking her with its force. She moaned with each sharp spasm—or rather, heard herself moan, so transported was she.

She became dimly aware, as her climax ebbed, of David kissing her with aching gentleness on the still-pulsing flesh between her thighs.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful.” He glided his tongue over her clit, inciting a lovely little post-orgasmic tremor. Were David under the influence of one of her
mashmashus,
she could keep him mesmerized with lust until she’d spent herself through climax after climax, but such was not the case.

Lili rose onto an elbow to stroke his hair with a trembling hand. “Thank you, David.”

Planting another kiss upon her sex, this one punctuated with a feathery little flick of the tongue, he said, “Would you mind if I . . . didn’t stop quite yet?”

Lili smiled slowly as she settled back onto the pillows.
I knew you had promise.