“You mistake the meaning of my question,” said he, his voice held low through effort of will alone. “When I asked when you would no longer be a captive, I meant I wished to know when you would begin to know yourself my woman. I had no wish to hear the fantasies of your frustration, nor do I care to hear them now. You may tell yourself you will one fey be delivered from me, yet such soothings to your pride will only bring aches to your bottom. It will be much the better if you learn what is needful for your place with me, for you will never cease to be mine while breath is left to my body.”
His eyes, the color of a vast stretch of water I had once seen, spoke to me as always of the belief he had in that which he had said. Till the breath leaves his body, he had sworn, and thus had he sealed his own fate. Each of us has the right to live her life as she sees fit, yet I gazed upon Ceralt’s body, so broad and strong, the flesh so firm, and wished I might force him to withdraw those words. That he stood himself against Mida’s will was plain, equally as plain as the certainty that he would fall. Lialt had seen it so, and I was indeed meant to ride free once more, and therefore Ceralt’s life was forfeit in a cause which had long been lost.
“I think it best that we return to our original discussion,” said Ceralt, his eyes examining me once again. “I have disallowed your taking service from me, and find no interest in having you grovel at my feet. In such an instance, this is what you must do. He then released my hair to lay himself flat upon the lanthay fur, his broad chest no more than a handspan from my knees. I shook my head to free myself of the lingering feel of his fist forcing me to his wishes, and his hand came to take a thick strand of my hair again.
“Here I lie,” said he, “toying with your hair, and there you kneel, deep in your need. I have no interest in seeing to your need, yet you cannot continue with it unseen to. What you must do is waken my flesh to feel a need approaching yours, and the way this might be done is to bring your flesh to mine, using it and your hands and lips to see to the task. You have only to remember that should you displease me with too great an insistence, I shall cast you from me to suffer in solitude. Come, now. Let us see what you may accomplish.”
His fingers played with my hair, his eyes awaiting my actions, yet I knew not what his instruction might mean. That I was to touch him was clear, yet less than clear was the manner in which this might be done. All confused, kneeling beside him, I reached a hand out to touch his belly with one finger, feeling the hair that clustered there just above his breech. How much simpler it would be to merely tear the breech from his body, taking that which he refused to give. And yet, when I had first touched him I had not attempted to force him to my will with strength and insistences, but had toyed with him to build his heat. Once, in the darkness, I had thought myself back in the forest with a sthuvad before me, and had attempted to take Ceralt as I would have among the Hosta. I clearly recalled the shock I had felt upon discovering an unbound male before me, yet such now seemed foolishness. Had Ceralt never taken and used me, that shock should result from his doing that very thing? If such was my purpose—and the ache in my body swore it was so—then why would I refrain from doing that which I had done in the forests? Again I looked to Ceralt’s eyes, seeing him as he watched me, knowing for how short a time I was destined to remain in his furs, and saw myself for a fool. Was I to refuse the enjoyment of his presence merely by cause of my captivity by him, denying myself as I could not deny him?
I shook my head slowly back and forth, holding his eyes, seeing the frown begin to crease his brow and then disappear as my finger trailed across his belly and down to his thigh. My left hand moved then as well, to the broadness of his chest and shoulder, and slowly, slowly, I leaned down to touch his middle with my lips. His firm flesh quivered as I touched it, lightly, gently, once, twice, thrice. My arms spread out upon his body, my lips barely touching him, I was yet able to feel how he fought to keep his breathing slow, to keep his hands from reaching for my body. I smiled to know that he sought a lost disinterest, and raised my head to send my gaze to his.
“Have you no interest in me as you are?” I whispered, keeping my hands amove upon him, in all places save where his rising hips sought to direct me. “Must I find another to quench the heat which you yourself have raised in me? What other shall I go to?”
“None other!” Ceralt growled, anger in his eyes as he raised up and pulled me to his arms. “You may not go to another save with my permission, and this you do not have!”
His lips took mine then, violently, demandingly, and soon I knew naught of what Famira and Cimilan were about. Ceralt had me, in his arms, in his possession, in the throes of a desire he had been unable to deny. I moaned with pleasure at the feel of him within me, knowing that the pleasure he gave was indeed fit for a war leader, for who else had the right to seek such? Ceralt was sthuvad beyond compare, and his loss would cut me more deeply than any other.
The joy continued for many reckid, and when I was at last released to lie alone on the lanthay fur, Ceralt, spent, at my side, I found a silence which had not before filled the tent. Yet lying upon my back, I turned my head toward Cimilan and Famira, discovering two sets of eyes filled with interest. The female sat upon the lap of the male, her arms as far about his body as they might go, he also with his arms about her, yet his hands were not unmoving as were hers. Cimilan joyed in the presence of his female, unclothed, near to his touch, and Famira, though most recently seen to, moved as though fire again began to claim her.
“There you have seen what you must strive for,” said Cimilan to his female, his lips briefly touching her hair. “You saw how her body moved to meet his, how the openness of her called him to heights of added pleasure. It is a thing all women are capable of, should their men know enough to demand it of them. Presently you will find that I demand no less.”
“I will strive for its attainment, Cimilan,” Famira whispered, her voice breathy with weakness. “I will give great attention in future to—oh! No, do not touch me so! You take my strength away doing so, and so soon again after having just—No, no, it cannot be done so soon again.”
“Can it not?” murmured Camilan as Ceralt chuckled and put his arm about me. “Very well, as you say it cannot be, I shall bow to your greater wisdom. Desire cannot again be raised in you, therefore shall I cease my efforts.”
He then took his hands from her body, moved her from his lap to the lanthay fur, and stood to stretch his broad body to the tent’s roof. Famira, having been unceremoniously placed alone upon the fur, looked up at the male above her with abrupt uncertainty, her thighs pressed tightly together. I shook my head over her foolishness as Ceralt continued to chuckle, for it seemed clear to any with eyes that Famira had been made to feel her need, yet had refused the male who might see to it. Cimilan retrieved his breech and quickly donned it, then reached down again for his leather chest covering.
“Do—do we now return to our own tent, Cimilan?” asked Famira, her tone uncertain and yet filled with considerable hope. “There is—a thing about which I would—speak with you alone.”
“Oh?” said Cimilan, gazing fondly down upon her, mellow good humor having been restored to him. “You need not await our return to our tent, satya. Speak to me now of that which concerns you.”
“I—I cannot,” choked Famira, her gaze slipping to Ceralt and myself before finding the fur beneath Cimilan’s feet. “It is a matter for your ears alone.”