Alone in the bedchamber with Bao that night, I found myself feeling suddenly and unwontedly shy for the first time since… ever.
It had been so long since we’d been intimate, and so much had happened to us both. He had survived Kurugiri and Jagrati’s favoritism. I had been the instrument of Naamah’s blessing, and the near-victim of Kamadeva’s diamond. As much as I wanted this, I didn’t know how to be an ordinary, mortal lover anymore.
Bao sensed my uncertainty. “Do you want to wait until after we’re wed?” he asked. “I can if you can. I have great strength of will, you know,” he added, making me smile.
“No.” I took his hand, traced the creases on his callused palm. “No, it’s just…” I shrugged, lacking words. “I feel strange. Unlike myself.”
“Come here.” Bao tugged me close to him. I slid my arms around his waist, pressing my palms against his back, burying my face against his shoulder. He held me and breathed the Breath of Earth’s Pulse, one hand sliding through my hair, lifting it and letting it fall, a motion rhythmic and soothing, as though he were petting a cat. “Do you know why I was unkind to you when we first met?”
“Because you hated Raphael de Mereliot,” I said in a muffled voice. “And you didn’t think I was deserving of Master Lo’s attention.”
He laughed deep in his chest. “True. But there was another reason. I did not like D’Angelines very much. They think so highly of themselves, of their beauty.” His fingers slid through my hair, rising and falling. “Maybe it would have been different if I’d let myself get to know some of them. Too proud, I know.”
“They probably didn’t encourage it,” I murmured.
“No,” Bao agreed. “But I did not find them all so beautiful, either. To a Ch’in eye, it is a hard, sharp beauty, deadly as a blade. You… you were different. You looked like them and unlike them all at once, a more subtle blade, exotic to them, but a blend of the familiar and the strange to me.” He lifted my face, stroked my cheekbones with his thumbs. “You wanted me to speak of desire, Moirin? You were the most desirable woman I’ve ever seen, and I resented you for it. Foolish, but true.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
He kissed me softly, and I felt Naamah’s gift stirring at last. Doves-the wings fluttering in my belly were doves, not ravens. “If I were a poet, I would write poems of praise to your golden skin and ebony hair and green, green eyes,” he said solemnly. “But I am not a poet, Moirin. Only a peasant-boy risen high above his station.”
My throat tightened. “No, you are a great deal more than that, my magpie.”
His mouth quirked. “Oh, aye?” he asked, mimicking my inflection. “Am I?”
“Aye.” I wound my arms around his neck and kissed his lips. The feeling of strangeness had fled. “You are.”
Bao’s eyes gleamed in the lamplight.
The bright lady smiled.
It was slow and gentle and glorious. Cupping my face, Bao kissed me until I was dizzy with pleasure, his tongue delving into my mouth, teasing my own. Our flickering diadh-anams entwined in a private celebration, echoing the dance of our bodies. Liquid heat uncoiled in the pit of my belly, spreading languorously to my limbs. With careful reverence, he unpinned my sari, unwinding its complicated folds, kissing the skin he unveiled. The hollow of my throat, my collarbones.
Sinking to his knees before me, Bao traced patterns on my taut skin with the tip of his tongue, probing my navel and making me giggle breathlessly. He tugged down my fine linen underskirt, his deft tongue parting my nether-lips and darting between them.
“Oh!” I caught my breath, sinking my hands into his hair. My knees felt weak. “If you’re going to do that, I cannot keep my feet.”
He rose gracefully, his hands catching the hem of my cropped undershirt and easing it over my head, caressing my aching breasts in the process. “Lie down on the bed.”
I did.
Bao gazed at me, hot-eyed and infinitely patient. After all, my boasting boy did have great strength of will. He stripped off his tunic, revealing a sculpted brown torso corded with lean muscle. He shucked his loose breeches, his tight flanks rippling, more lean muscle on his thighs and calves. Ah, gods! He had a gorgeous body, the most beautiful I’d ever seen on a man. His erect phallus was drawn as tight as a bowstring, curving toward his flat belly, the swollen head as dark and ripe as a plum.
As he slid into bed, I reached for him.
“Not yet.” Bao shifted, straddling my body and pinning my arms. “I need to relearn you. Every part of you.” He smiled down at me with rare sweetness. “It is part of learning to live in brightness, Moirin. Do you mind?”
I laughed. “Stone and sea! No!”
So many times, with so many lovers, it seemed I had been in charge, in control. Naamah’s child, taking as much or more delight in bestowing pleasure as receiving it. It was a relief to surrender for once, to let Bao take the reins.
We kissed and kissed, until I thought I would melt. He worked his way down my body, laying a trail of kisses along my throat.
He suckled my nipples, hard. I groaned, my back arching.
He pressed kisses against the soles of my feet, the backs of my knees. He parted my thighs, kissing them. “This, here.” His tongue teased the place where my thigh met my groin. His voice was thick. “I would write an ode to it.”
I made a wordless sound.
His mouth moved higher, tasting me, his tongue exploring my depths and retreating to flutter against Naamah’s Pearl. Pleasure broke in waves over me, my hips rising involuntarily to meet his mouth. He did not stop for a long, long time.
“Are you sufficiently reeducated?” I asked breathlessly when he finally did. “Because I feel very, very thoroughly relearned.”
Bao grinned. “It’s a good start, anyway.” Effortlessly, he turned me in his arms, pulling me atop him. “Now I want to watch you.”
Kneeling astride his waist, I leaned down to kiss him, tasting my juices on his lips, my hair falling to curtain both our faces. The tips of my nipples brushed his chest in a tantalizing manner. I bit his throat softly, sucking on the warm, smooth flesh. I kissed the hard, sleek planes of his chest, bit and sucked lightly on his small, flat nipples until he groaned, his hands clutching hard at my hips.
Only then did I sit up, rising a little on my knees and taking his phallus in my hand. It was warm and throbbing, the thin skin velvety-soft. Bao watched me, his eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids as I fitted the swollen head between my slick nether-lips. I sank down on him slowly, letting him fill me inch by delicious inch-and our shared diadh-anams merged in a silent starburst. I had forgotten how profoundly intense the sensation was, startling us both into a moment of stillness.
“Do you think we’ll ever get used to it?” Bao whispered in awe.
I smiled. “Mayhap if we try often enough.”
Slowly, the glittering intensity faded, and I began to move again, moving my hips in a small circular motion, reveling in the feeling of his shaft deep inside me, filling me, its angle changing subtly as I moved; of his strong fingers digging into my hips, encouraging me. Gasping with pleasure, I came again.
“Beautiful,” Bao murmured. “So beautiful.”
When I caught my breath once more, I leaned forward a bit to brace my hands on his chest and changed to a different motion, rising and sinking along the length of his phallus, creating a glorious friction that pleased us both. Finally, Bao’s formidable strength of will began to crumble. With a low growl that echoed in the pit of my belly, he rolled us both over once more, his shaft still buried inside me.
He rocked between my thighs, propped on his forearms and watching my face. I closed my eyes, drinking in the sensation of being filled and emptied, rising to meet his thrusts until the waves built and built again, breaking over and over, my yielding flesh convulsing in honey-sweet spasms around his hardness, my ankles hooked around his buttocks.
It was good, so very good.
And it was good in a different way when Bao gave himself utterly over to his own desire at last, his breath coming in hard pants, his hips thrusting hard and fast, driving me to yet another climax as I felt his phallus tighten and swell within me. He gave another low growl, shuddering and coming, his chin grinding into my neck.
In the aftermath of love, his face was soft and vulnerable. I lay propped against his bare chest, stroking the unruly hair out of his dark eyes, wondering what he was thinking. “Are you happy?” I asked him.
Bao laughed. “Happy?” He trailed the fingers of one hand along the curve of my spine, making me shiver a little. “I think that is a small word for what I am feeling, Moirin. Are you happy?”
“Aye,” I said simply. “I am.”
“You should always be happy.” He flattened his palm against the small of my back. “I do not tell you often enough that I love you. I am not good with pretty words and flattery. But when I hold you in my arms, I feel as though I hold everything that is good and bright in the world.”
My eyes stung.
“No tears, Moirin!” Bao said in alarm. “I am not good with tears, either.”
“They are happy tears,” I assured him, stretching to kiss him. “I’ve missed you, that’s all. Even though you’ve been right here.”
He returned my kiss. “I have missed you, too.”
It was enough.
Happy, sated, and languorous with pleasure in every part of my body, I drifted into sleep wrapped contentedly in Bao’s arms, one leg flung over his, my head pillowed on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar hot-forge scent of his skin. My diadh-anam burned brightly alongside his. We were together at last, every shadow between us banished.
I slept, and dreamed.
I dreamed of Jehanne.
In my dream, she came to me clothed in the attire she had worn on the Longest Night-the costume of the Winter Queen, a collar of snow-white ermine framing her exquisite face, her silver-gilt hair piled in a high coronet. In my dream, Jehanne was alive, her blue-grey eyes sparkling at me.
“I have missed you, my beautiful girl,” she said to me. “Have you missed me, too?”
I could not lie to Jehanne. “Yes. Oh, yes!”
“My sweet witchling,” my dream-Jehanne said fondly, sliding one hand around the nape of my neck. “My lovely Moirin, my gorgeous savage. Preparing to wed, even!” She gazed deep into my eyes. “I do not begrudge you your pretty ruffian, my beautiful girl. Only promise me it will change nothing between us.”
I paused, enveloped by her intoxicating scent. “But this is not real.”
“Does it matter?” my dream-Jehanne asked, toying with the tendrils of hair at the back of my neck. “I am here with you now.” Her sparkling eyes widened, searching my face. “Would you truly say no to me, Moirin?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. A part of me knew I was dreaming, knew I was lying asleep in Bao’s arms; and I did not want to betray him before I’d even wed him, even in my dreams. “Why are you haunting me, Jehanne?” I asked. “Are you angry at me for leaving you? Angry I was not there when…?” I couldn’t say the words, and a part of me hoped that my dream-Jehanne would deny the entire thing, would tell me that her death was a cruel lie told me by the Patriarch to break me down and weaken me.
She didn’t. Instead she pulled away from me, looking hurt. “If that is what you think, mayhap I should leave.”
“No!” I couldn’t bear to lose even a dream-Jehanne. I caught her hand. “No, please. Stay.”
“Then you won’t say no to me?” Jehanne asked, smiling. “I beg you, don’t make me pout, Moirin! It’s tiresome, and it never worked very well on you anyway.”
I laughed.
Still smiling, Jehanne regarded me beneath her lashes with those star-bright eyes. My heart ached with loss and yearning, and I knew that even though none of this was real, there was no way I could ever say no to her.
“No.” I touched her cheek, her skin as fine as silk. “No, Jehanne. I will not say no to you.”
Her expression softened. “I only want to know you haven’t forgotten me, Moirin.”
I shook my head, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes once more. “Not in ten times a thousand years, my lady. I promise.”
“Thank you,” Jehanne whispered, and kissed me, first with infinite tenderness, and then with all the sweetness of desire, her tongue darting past my lips, the scent of night-blooming flowers and her all around us. Ah, gods! I had missed her so very much, and I wanted her so very badly. Sighing with pleasure, I unfastened the brooch on her ermine-collared cloak and let it fall to the ground, laying the graceful white lines of her throat and shoulders bare so I might kiss them, taste her silken skin-
And I awoke with a jolt in darkness.
My heart contracted painfully in my chest, a profound sense of loss growing so acute that an involuntary cry escaped me.
Startled out of a sound sleep, Bao scrambled wildly out of bed, reaching for his staff. “What is it?” he asked fiercely. “Moirin! What?”
An unreasoning wave of panic overcame me, words spilling out of my mouth. “Bao, I can’t marry you! I can’t! I’m not… I’m not a wife-type person! I love you, I do, but I can’t promise to love you and you alone for the rest of my life! That’s like… like asking me to love autumn, but not spring and summer! Or trees, but not flowers!”
Having determined we were in no immediate danger, Bao kindled a lamp and gazed at me with sleepy bewilderment. “Trees? Flowers? What in the world are you talking about?”
“You! Me! Us! Marriage!” I shook my head frantically. “I can’t do it, Bao! I can’t. I’m sorry! I may be many things, but I’m not an oath-breaker!”
He knelt on the bed and took my shoulders in his hands. “Moirin, calm down!”
“I can’t!”
“You can.” Bao gave me a gentle shake. “Calm down and breathe, you crazy woman, and tell me what this is about.”
It helped. I forced myself to breathe slowly, my thudding heart and racing pulse easing. “I dreamed of Jehanne.”
He looked confused. “Was it a bad dream?”
“No.” I flushed. “Not exactly. She wanted me to promise my marriage changed nothing between us. And… I did. I promised I would never say no to her. I… um, very much began to say yes instead.”
Bao’s expression turned grave. “It was only a dream, Moirin. I know you loved her, and a part of your heart will always be hers. But your Jehanne is no longer with us.”
“I know!” Tears spilled from my eyes, and I wiped impatiently at them. “But I wanted her-”
“Moirin,” Bao interrupted me. “I am not stupid, you know. I know you. I do not suppose I’m wedding some dull merchant’s daughter. I do not expect you to become a respectable matron. I am not asking you to swear any oath you cannot keep.” He shrugged, sitting on his heels and laying his hands on his thighs. “For whatever reason, the gods have joined us together, and I cannot imagine living without you. Can you?”
“No,” I murmured. “But-”
“But what?” He smiled a little. “Tomorrow, a dragon may decide to claim you as his mate. Or maybe your goddess Naamah will decide you need to seduce some spineless Yeshuite boy for his own good. I know this; and I am not afraid. It does not lessen what we are together, you and I. And since the gods have seen fit to join us, it is my thought that we should ask their blessing on our union. Is that so terrible?”
“No,” I admitted.
“I will not press you if you do not wish it,” Bao said. “Only know I do not expect you to be anyone but who you are.”
“And that is enough?” I asked uncertainly.
He laughed. “You crossed the Abode of the Gods and rescued me from the Spider Queen, Moirin. Yes. It is more than enough.”
My panic faded. “Aleksei was not spineless, you know,” I said to him. “He was a gentle soul, that’s all.”
Bao scoffed. “Oh, please! His mother had to convince him to free you.”
“He was very tall, with very broad shoulders,” I added. “And eyes the color of rain-washed flowers the name of which I only know in Alban.”
He smiled complacently at me. “Now you are only trying to make me jealous.”
“It’s not working very well, is it?” I observed.
“No.” Bao shook his head, the gold hoops in his earlobes glinting. “Because your spineless Yeshuite boy is a thousand leagues away, and I am here. If I were going to be jealous, I would begin with our beautiful Rani, who is much closer and a much greater threat.” He gave me another complacent smile. “Lucky for me, she does not share your unusual passions. Or at least not much, anyway. She is very fond of you.”
I gazed at Bao, at his still-sleepy face, unexpectedly beautiful. At the tousled shock of his hair, his corded forearms braced against his thighs, the stark zig-zag pattern of tattoos running down them. “So you still want to wed me?”
“Yes.”
I reached out and touched one of the gold hoops in his ears. “Why did you keep them? As a reminder of her?”
“Jagrati?” Bao stretched out his arms, regarding his tattoos. “No. I already have a reminder that cannot be removed.” Reaching up, he fingered one thick hoop. “These, I couldn’t figure out how to unfasten.”
I laughed.
This time, it was a healing laughter; and mayhap the laughter in my dream had been, too. Love as thou wilt, Blessed Elua had bade his people-my father’s people, and my people, too. I was a child of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, and a daughter of Naamah, too. I had loved, and loved well.
Jehanne; always Jehanne. But so many others, too. Last and always, my great-hearted bad boy Bao, gazing at me with a quizzical look.
“Do you hate them?” he asked, touching his earlobes. “I will rip them out if you do.”
I shook my head. “Let them stay. Now that I know, I do not mind.”
Leaning over, Bao blew out the lamp. “Then let us sleep, Moirin, and be at peace with each other.”