Carefully studying them during his first visit to the apartment, Marcus noted somewhat wryly, "I am not sure such a thing is possible when one has a body that is half-human, half-equine." He reclined in a chair along one of the walls.
"The ladies seem content," Zenobia noted from the black marble pool where she was swimming. In the crystal waters of the pool her own very voluptuous form was quite visible.
"Still, I wonder…" he mused, and then he turned to face her. "Come to me, beloved. It has been more than three hundred nights since you have lain in my arms. The gods know that I have always been a patient man, but now I am no longer patient."
Her gray eyes darkened with the remembered passion of that one night that they had had, and a soft smile curved her lips for a moment. Then she swam over to the steps of the pool and stood up. She slowly ascended the stairs as he watched with intense desire her lush golden body, the water droplets glittering like diamonds as they ran down her. Lazily she dried herself off, picked up an alabaster flask, and walked across the room to him. Handing him the flask, she purred, "Will you rub me with this cream, Marcus," and without waiting for him to answer continued on to the sleeping platform, where she lay down upon her stomach.
Standing, he whipped the wrap of cloth from his loins, and, naked, joined her. The night was warm with early summer as he straddled her, using her bottom as a seat, and poured the fragrant, pale mauve-colored cream into one big palm. Carefully he set the flask upon one of the platform steps and, rubbing his hands together to spread the cream, he began to massage her.
"Ummmmmm," she murmured huskily as his large hands swept up the long length of her back and over her shoulders.
He continued this way for some minutes until all the cream had disappeared into her skin, and then, reversing his position, he crouched over her facing her feet. Taking more of the mauve cream, he began to massage her buttocks with expert fingers.
"Ohhhh!" Zenobia gave a little shriek of pleasure, and he smiled to himself. She had thought to play this teasing game with him, but when he had finished with her it would be she whose fires would rage uncontrolled.
Finished with her buttocks, he began to rub each leg in its turn, and then her arms, with the scented cream. As he did so he was not averse to pressing teasing little kisses upon the back of her neck, having first pushed aside her long black hair, which had come free of its jeweled pins. It gave him great satisfaction to note that her delicious body was unable to remain still.
"Marcus!" Her voice was somewhat strained.
"Yes, beloved?" His voice was smooth, devoid of any emotion.
"I think you can stop now." He certainly could stop, she thought frantically. Her skin was absolutely tingling; in fact, she was tingling all over.
"Now?" His voice had turned innocent, and he slipped his hands beneath her to grasp her marvelous breasts. Teasingly, he pinched the nipples, very much enjoying her gasp of surprise. Covering her body with his own, his weight crushed her into the mattress as he murmured into her ear, "My beloved goddess, did you think to tease me to madness? You have succeeded!" And he gently bit at the back of her neck.
She shuddered as the flames of desire began to lick at her in earnest. "Marcus!"
He heard the plea, and lifted himself off her to turn her over onto her back. Her beautiful breasts rose and fell in quick rhythm. His dark chestnut head lowered to capture a pert nipple, which he then caressed with his tongue, circling round and round it, until she moaned a low, keening sound that was half-pleasure, half-frustration. Lifting his head, he moved over to her other nipple while his hand kneaded the breast he had just left. Her breasts had been extremely sensitive since she had stopped nursing Mavia and given that chore to a wet-nurse.
He was going to drive her mad, Zenobia thought. Reaching down, she grasped his thick hair and pulled him from her breast. "Kiss me!" she demanded furiously, and he laughed softly for a moment before his lips took fierce possession of hers. His tongue filled her mouth, skillfully doing battle with hers, which would not be subdued but fought him with equal cunning, bringing quick liquid fire into his hot loins.
Mischievously she bit him, and he swore softly while she laughed and, moving provocatively, murmured, "Now, my darling! Now!"
“No!" he told her. By the gods she might be Queen of Palmyra, but while she lay in his arms he would be the master! "Not yet, beloved! You are too eager."
"Yes, now!" She thrust her pelvis upward against him.
"No! There are pleasures yet to be savored, my beauty," and before she could stop him he shifted his body downward to push his head between her thighs. His fingers pushed the yielding flesh apart, and his mouth found the bud of her womanhood.
Zenobia struggled frantically for breath. Her husband had never done what Marcus now did to her! Such delights he was unleashing within her body! They came quickly one after another in explosions of incredible rapture that left her close to swooning. It was only when he heard the tone of her voice become distraught that he stopped and covered her body again with his own, murmuring soft love words, plunging deep into her burning flesh to soothe and comfort her. Her arms went about him, and she held him tightly against herself, her breasts flattening against the soft fur of his chest.
Together they found the perfect rhythm, and ascended an Olympus of their own, rising higher and higher until finally they gained a paradise far above that of mere gods. Together they clung to each other in that incredible world of instant immortality before descending again to the world of man. Neither remembered the return, awakening much later wrapped within the other's arms; Zenobia, suddenly clearheaded, could hear the strong beat of his heart through his ribs.
"Are you awake?" she whispered softly.
"No," he answered. "I can't possibly be, for if I am then I am in paradise."
"I love you," she answered him.
"No," he said. "I love you!"
Pushing herself up onto one elbow, she gazed down into his strongly chiseled face. "That first night," she said. "I remember thinking that you were the one I had waited for all my life, and I did not understand it. How could I love my Hawk, and yet so quickly love you? I still am not sure I understand."
"Did not your father arrange the marriage?"
"Yes."
"Then you were expected to marry Odenathus, and there was an end to it as far as your family was concerned. Tell me if I am wrong. He was the first man ever to come into your life other than your father and your brothers. He was the first man to make love to you. He was intelligent, and sensitive, and gentle. He adored you above all women, even to putting aside his concubine for you. Is all of this not so?"
"Yes."
"Then how could a woman of sensitivity fail to respond to him? Did you know what love was, beloved? Do you know now?"
"My love for my Hawk was a child's love," she said slowly. "Very much the same as I feel for my father and my brothers. He awakened my body, it is true; but never did I feel for him what I feel for you. Yet that, too, is confusing.