Now Kevin’s anger could be heard in his voice. ‘Then your lords are no better than barbarians. Men should treat women with respect and kindness.’
Excitement coursed through Mara. Time and again Nacoya had told her that all men did not behave like Buntokapi; yet the fact that they owned the god-given right to be brutal had caused her to distrust even Hokanu, whose outward manner seemed mild. Where she had not dared to give herself to a suitor of her own culture, with Kevin she felt oddly safe.
‘Then your people treat their wives and lovers like flowers, cherishing them without causing pain?’
Kevin nodded, his fingers stroking her shoulders as lightly as the wings of small birds.
‘Show me,’ Mara whispered. The touch of him made her tingle, and she felt, through his breeches, the pressure of his own aroused manhood.
The barbarian’s brows rose mischievously. ‘Here?’
The ache inside Mara mounted, became unbearable. ‘Here,’ she repeated softly. ‘Here, now, I command you.’ When he looked as though he might protest, she added, ‘No one will disturb us. I am Ruling Lady of the Acoma.’
Even now she tautened, as if at any moment she expected to be manhandled. Kevin sensed her tension. ‘Lady,’ he said softly, ‘right now you rule more than the Acoma,’ and he bent his head and kissed her lips.
His touch was soft as a whisper. Reassured, she yielded almost immediately. Then, as his lightness teased her to desire, she leaned into him, demanding more. But his hands stayed soft. He stroked her breast through the fabric of her robe, maddening her with his gentleness. Her nipple turned hard and hot. She wanted his fingers on her bare skin, more desperately than she had ever wished for anything.
He did not comply. Not all at once. Barbarian that he was, he acted as if her very robe were precious. He slipped the silk slowly from her shoulders. Mara moaned and shivered. She tugged at his shirt, wanting the feel of him, but her hands tangled in his unfamiliar dress, and as her fingers encountered his skin, she hesitated,, wanting to return the feeling he gave her, but uncertain what she should do.
Kevin caught her wrists, still handling her as if her flesh were fragile. His care made her desire mount further, tormented her to an ecstasy she had never dreamed existed. She could not have named the moment he slid her robe off and touched his lips to her breast. By then her world had dissolved into dizziness and she moaned for his touch against her loins.
Midkemian clothing was more complicated than Tsurani dress. He had to shift her to remove his breeches. Somehow they ended up in the grass, lit by the golden sliver of Kelewan’s moon, and also by a soft wash of lantern light. Abandoned to pleasure amid the scent of blooming kekali, swept away by the passion of a redheaded barbarian, Mara discovered what it was to be a woman.
Later, flushed with the elation of newfound release, Mara returned to her chamber. Nacoya awaited her there with news of a business transaction in Sulan-Qu, and a tray of light supper. One look at her mistress’s face, and she forgot the contents of the scroll. ‘Thank Lashima,’ she said, correctly interpreting the cause of Mara’s euphoria. ‘You’ve discovered the joy of your womanhood at last.’
Mara laughed, a little breathless. She pirouetted like a girl and sat on the cushions. Kevin followed her, his hair still tousled and his face more guardedly sober. Nacoya regarded him closely for a moment. Then, her lips pursed in mild disapproval, she turned upon her mistress.
‘My Lady, you must excuse your slave.’
Mara looked up, her first flush of surprise changing to annoyance. ‘First Adviser, I shall do as I please with my slave.’
Nacoya bowed deeply in respect for her mistress’s prerogative. Then she went on as though Kevin were not present. ‘Daughter of my heart, you now have learned the wonder of sex. This is good. And you are not the first great Lady who has used a slave. It is not only useful, it is even wise, for no slave can use you. However, Desio of the Minwanabi will be waiting to take advantage of every weakness, however small. You must not make mistakes and let the pleasures of the flesh grow into infatuation. This Midkemian should be sent away to keep your thinking clear, and you should take one or two different men to your bed soon, to learn they are merely . . . useful.’
Mara stood motionless, with her back turned. ‘I find this discussion inopportune. Leave me at once, Nacoya.’
The First Adviser of the Acoma returned a deeper bow. ‘Your will, Lady.’ Stiffly she arose, and with a last lingering glare at Kevin she left the room. As the indignant tap of her sandals faded down the hall, Mara motioned to her slave.
‘Join me,’ she invited. Then she shed her loosened robe and dropped naked upon the cushions of the mat that served as her bed. ‘Show me again how the men in your land love their women.’