White Tigress (10 page)

"This tells me that you will have ample energy for all of your children, when they come, but without children to care for, you are pulled in too many directions without control. You are..."

"Impetuous."

He blinked, not knowing the English word.

"It means I rush ahead without thinking things through. My mother always said I go every which way without purpose."

"Your mother is correct. Because your energy is headed in different directions, it is doubly hard for your mind to contain your passions." He smiled at her. "But I will help you find a way to channel them."

She nodded, clearly not reassured. But she knew she had no choice in this matter, and her acquiescence pleased him.

"I will begin just like this morning."

He flattened his hand, pressing three fingertips on the inside of each breast. Her flesh was warm, her skin soft, but that was nothing compared to the fluttering beat of her heart, which seemed to tremble just beneath his hands. He wanted to press his palms deeply against her, feeling her breath as it flowed through her, thrumming with the beating of her heart.

He didn't understand these feelings. Certainly he had never felt like this with Shi Po. But, then, he was not the one who had initiated her into her tigress practice. He only knew that the task before him was simple, the most basic of beginnings. And yet it had never seemed so important. Li Dee watched, her water-colored eyes wide with anticipation, and he felt the weight of her entire soul focused directly upon him.

He moved his fingers, sliding them between her breasts before making a tight circle beneath her nipples, then back up again.

"Your hands are so warm," she whispered.

He nodded, again pleased that she was speaking so easily with him. "That is my yang fire. It has always been so with me."

One circle completed. The second circle begun.

"This is not the same as it was this morning."

His gaze shot to her face, surprised that his attention had been so focused on her breasts. Surprised, too, that she had noticed the change in his stroke.

"You are correct," he answered evenly, though it took a great deal of effort to keep his voice calm and his strokes even. "This morning was a simple introduction. What I am doing now is how we will proceed in the future. Can you explain what is different?"

"Of course I can." She sounded irritated, and so he focused on keeping an even pace to help soothe her. "You are... your hands are making smaller circles. Nearer my... my..."

"Your nipples."

"Yes."

"You may use the words here. It will make it easier if I don't have to guess what you mean."

She nodded, but didn't speak.

"Yes, this is a beginning stroke, designed to smooth over any restrictions in your yin flow. We begin in tight circles around your nipples then slowly widen each circle."

"But you are only touching my..." She swallowed, clearly working against a lifetime of silence when it came to her body. "My breasts," she finally said. "What if my yin is restricted in my arm? Or my leg?"

"Yin is centered here." He passed his hands over her nipples without touching them. And as had happened this morning, she gasped at his movement and he felt the heat of her yin straining toward him. "There will be no restriction in your arms and legs unless you have injured yourself."

She shook her head, and her breasts jiggled in his hands, momentarily brushing against the tops of his knuckles. It was such a pleasant experience that he flattened his hands even more, pressing first four then all five of his fingers against her. Until he circled beneath her breasts. Then he lifted his wrists, enjoying the feel of her breasts as they brushed across the sides and backs of his fingers.

At last he completed the outermost circle. It was time to begin again, right next to her flushed, pointed nipple. How wonderful it would be to taste it. His mouth watered at the thought, and his eyes were riveted on her peaks. Was there any moisture there yet? Was she that overflowing?

The answer, of course, was no. She was nowhere near ready, and so he continued his circles, starting in close, then steadily expanding.

Soon, the exercise began to work. Her questions faded. Her breath keyed to his movements, exhaling on the down-stroke, inhaling on the up. He too began to breathe rhythmically, to flow with the sensations of her skin sliding beneath his fingertips, her breath heating his face, while his gaze remained transfixed by her growing, blushing breasts.

"Forty-nine." His mouth was dry, his voice rough. He wanted her water so desperately, and yet he knew he had to be patient.

Shifting his hands, he began the next step, circling in the opposite direction, in a wide motion that steadily narrowed toward her nipple. "Now that we have brushed away any blockages, it is time to encourage good flow."

She had closed her eyes, no doubt concentrating on the changes in her body, but now she opened them, gazing at him with a dazed, unfocused look. "Will I begin to produce milk? As if I'd had a baby?"

What a surprise she was, understanding what many took weeks to grasp. "Not unless you wish it. Your body will produce something else. A different kind of water."

She nodded as if she understood. She didn't, of course. She couldn't. Not until her yin milk began to flow. And so he began his circles, touching her with as much of his hands as he dared, always longing for more, always wishing...

Once again, both Ru Shan and the woman's attentions focused on her body, her breathing, her very fluids. And for a time, they seemed to become as one. His touch regulated her breath, which flowed into him, so that his own breath could not begin until hers did, his own heart could not beat unless with hers. And with each ever-tightening circle, he felt her heart speed up, her breath whisper across her open lips with increasing speed. Her yin was accelerating, moving. Soon it would flow. Soon...

But then he finished just beneath and around her nipples. He had to begin the circle again from down along her sides. Her breath slowed, and her heart, and he returned to the quieter place. Except, of course, he was not as relaxed as she. He knew what was to come. He knew and wanted and waited, his yang fire burning hotter than ever inside him.

If only he could have some of her essence to cool his heat. Then he would be able to sleep again, at least for tonight. He would be able to breathe fully again, without a scorched, cracked throat.

Forty-seven circles.

Forty-eight.

Forty-nine.

He could not stop himself. He had to see if she was ready. He needed to touch her nipples just once. And so even though he knew better, he pulled his fingers tighter, stroking the last of the yin flow, pulling it to her full, erect nipples and squeezing to release it.

She cried out in her alarm, her body shuddering, but he did not release her. He pulsed his fingers—once, twice, even a third time—while she shivered in reaction.

It was too soon. He knew that. Her nipples remained bone dry. Worse, her eyes were wide with confusion. Her jade gate and her womb had not convulsed, of this he was certain. But her body trembled, trying to flow through breasts after only one day in training.

"It feels... I feel..." She did not have the words, and he could not blame her.

Carefully he withdrew his hands, drawing her robe back around her, covering her completely. She drew her arms together over her breasts, pressing her hands tight against them.

He explained, "The fault is entirely mine. You were not ready." He reached out, gently pulling her fists away from her chest. "I will not rush you again."

"But, what is happening?"

"You feel a fullness in your breasts?"

She nodded.

"That is your yin. The more we work like this, the more ready your nipples will be to open, releasing your yin milk. But your body has not had time to adjust, and so the passageway was blocked even as the yin pressed against it. That creates confusion in your body as it both flows forward and is held back." He lifted her fingers to his mouth where he pressed dry kisses to her knuckles. "Do not judge me by this, Li Dee. I will be more respectful in the future."

She nodded and slowly withdrew her hands from his. The session was over, her training done for this day. She would accept no more from him. And so he bowed deeply to her, trying to express his apology. A woman's yin—even a white slave's yin—was always to be respected. And he had failed in that.

Deeply ashamed, he turned and left.

From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng

10 March, 1869

Dearest Li Hua—

How fortunate you are to live deep inside great China. The barbarians have not only come to Shanghai, but they have overrun it! The village is nothing like I remember only a few years ago. The Chinese city is nearly surrounded by the white apes, and none of them are like Father Dodd.

You remember the white missionary who lived near us? I used to play with his daughter, and she taught me to speak English. Now I wish I had never learned, because the white apes here are not at all like Father Dodd's family. They are noisy and belligerent and smell terrible! But my husband thinks they are the best of people: easily flattered and wealthy beyond measure. He says the white apes are like ghosts who have too little soul to keep anything. Those of them that have the fortune to make much money cannot hold it. They spend and spend and spend, looking for the trappings of substance.

He thinks they are Heaven's means to give us money. I know only that I am afraid of them and wish to run away whenever I am called to translate for a customer. I have prayed and prayed to the ancestors that these ghost people will soon grow tired of Shanghai and leave forever, but they have not given me any sign at all. I do not know if I have fallen into disfavor or if their power is nothing against these barbarians.

But there is one thing, Li Hua. These ghost people sell a powder that my mother-in-law likes very much. It is expensive, but after she smokes it, she is quiet for many hours, leaving me to work in peace. But lately, it has not been enough for her. She wants more and more and gets very angry when she does not have any.

Truly, Li Hua, I do not think these ghost people have brought anything good to China.

—Mei Lan

Twirl the lotus, but do not harm the petals The Dragon plays in the tigress's cave.

—White tigress manual

~

Chapter 5

Lydia released her breath in a slow, controlled movement. She focused on the passing of air over her wet lips, the contraction of her mouth muscles and the shift in her shoulders. She did not want to think about the fullness in her breasts, the tingling that seemed to hit her unawares from different spots all over her body, or, most especially, the strange moisture lower down on her body.

What she thought about now was her captor, Ru Shan. He might claim his name meant steady as a mountain, but he'd been everything but steady with her—one moment kind, the next demanding, the next cruel. When he was kind, she was often tempted to soften toward him, to think him human after all. Especially during his so-called training sessions. The feelings he generated in her...