Esmara broke their kissing, leaning in to whisper in Miro’s ear.
"We need to go upstairs, I have a room."
"Yes," he croaked.
She gathered herself, and then slid off his lap. He quickly sat up, not willing to glance around the crowded room for fear someone would meet his gaze. Esmara took Miro’s hand and led him to the very back of the room, where a small set of stairs led upwards.
He watched the swing of her skirt, the curve of her round bottom as she walked up the stairs, thanking the Lord of the Sky, or the Eternal, or whoever would listen for his luck.
Esmara turned when she was at the top of the stairs and offered him a wicked grin, taking his hand and holding it tightly. He boldly wrapped his other arm around her waist, giving her a kiss on the neck. She squealed with pleasure.
"It’s this room here," she said.
He followed her into a sparse room, furnished only with a nightlamp on a small stand and a large bed.
No sooner had he entered the room when she closed the door behind him and pushed him, hard. Miro fell onto the bed, laughing and turning over. His laughter stopped dead when she began to untie the cords holding her bodice tied at the front. She loosed the strings one by one, and then untied the cords at the back.
Miro watched, transfixed. In one move Esmara slipped the garment up and over her head and was standing in front of him, wearing only a skirt. Her breasts were young and firm, smaller than he had thought because of the way the bodice had pressed them together. Her long brown hair curled down to spill over her rosy nipples. She cupped her hands under her breasts, smiling suggestively.
"Do you like them?" she said.
"Yes," Miro croaked. He cleared his throat. "Yes. Very much."
"I like it that you like them."
Esmara began to sway her hips to unheard music. Miro watched, mesmerized by the way the movement of her body emphasised the femaleness of her figure, her curves.
Esmara’s skirt fastened at the side, and Miro’s breath caught as she undid the buttons. She was obviously enjoying displaying her body, seeing his reaction.
The skirt fell to the floor. Esmara was left standing in nothing but her underwear, a flimsy piece of pink material. Miro’s eyes ran up her legs, above her knees, to the soft white thighs, the round curve of her hips, her flat stomach.
"You are the most beautiful girl in the world," he said.
Esmara simply smiled. She sat down next to him on the bed and quickly undressed him. Miro felt awkward and ungainly in her presence. He couldn’t hide his arousal.
"Sorry," he said, with a light chuckle.
"It’s a compliment," Esmara said.
Miro laid her down on her back and once more looked over her body, not leaving a single detail. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. At times she seemed so young, so fresh, and so fragile. Other times she seemed to be much wiser than him.
Miro slowly pulled down her silken undergarment. Esmara raised her hips, and finally she was completely naked. She blushed when she saw how intently he was looking at her.
"You’re just so beautiful," was his only response.
Miro ran his fingers over the infinitely soft hair under her belly, then down, over the mound and into her cleft. Her legs parted as he once more began to stroke her, this time watching as his fingers moved over and inside her.
Suddenly Miro could stand no more. She cried out as he lifted her knees and thrust himself into her. The moment stretched out, the pleasure absolute.
10
Do you have a permit for that tree? I’m sorry, but you can’t move it there without a permit.
— Veznan official, 476 Y.E.
MIRO frowned when Tuok started clapping. He couldn’t blame the man; he must look a sight — still in the last night’s clothing, arriving back to the market house after noon.
A few of the other men cheered too. Miro guessed Tuok hadn’t been reticent when asked about the whereabouts of the ‘young lord’. Miro only hoped Captain Sloan hadn’t found out about his disappearing act.
"Don’t worry, lad. I covered for you and the Captain was so caught up with worry about the Chorum that he never thought to ask why we were one man down at breakfast. Now come, why the black expression?"
"Sounds to me like you should have a smile on your face bigger than a Louan’s love for money!" one of the guards joked.
"So what’s the story?" said Tuok.
"Nothing."
Tuok glanced around the room. He tactfully led Miro into their quarters, looking like he had an idea what was going to happen next.
Miro sat on the bunk and put his head in his hands.
"She get a better offer, is that it?" said Tuok.
"No, nothing like that. Tuok, she took my money and left me."
Tuok looked confused for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Miro, she’s a whore!"
One minute Tuok was sitting on the bunk next to Miro, the next he was pressed up against the wall, Miro’s hand tight like a vice around his throat.
"She is not a whore," Miro said in a voice like ice.