"Are you all right?" she asked, finding it impossible to think that he wasn't satisfied.
Becker was amused. "It stays that way sometimes," he said, holding himself over her on his hands and knees.
"How long?"
He laughed. "I've never timed it."
He fell back onto the bed on his back, close to Pegeen but no longer touching her. To maintain contact, she put her arm across him, placed her cheek on his chest.
They lay in silence while all the things she might say raced through Pegeen's mind and she edited them and rejected them one after the other.
What she wanted to say was simple enough, she wanted to tell him that she loved him and she knew he didn't love her but that was all right, at least for the moment, because she was swamped with what she was feeling and didn't need to know how he felt, not for this second, at least, maybe longer, maybe for hours, maybe a day. She doubted it could be a day. But for just right now she loved him completely and that was more than enough and she yearned to tell him, just that, she was bursting with the need to tell him that. I don't want to frighten you, she rehearsed silently, and you don't need to respond, but I just want to say that I love you.
You don't have to answer, just know it and accept it, it's a gift I want to give you with no strings attached. And that wasn't entirely true, either, she realized, so she rejected that version because there were strings, there were hundreds of strings attached. Besides, she already realized that if he didn't say he loved her, too, it would break her heart. So much for the selfless part, she thought. It hadn't lasted very long. She amended what she wanted to say: I love you and want desperately for you to love me, too, but if you don't, I still love you anyway. But that sounded hopelessly wimpy, as if she were just asking to be taken advantage of, so she rejected that, too. Just say I love you, she thought, and the hell with the qualifiers, and let him respond how he will. But she didn't want to lose control over his response completely, so she didn't say anything even though her tongue was on fire with the need to say it.
Becker spoke first, finally breaking the silence.
"Did you know that chimpanzees eat flesh?" Becker said.
Pegeen couldn't believe the question.
"When they get the chance, chimpanzees in the wild will catch monkeys and tear them apart and eat them," he said. "We think of them as peaceful vegetarians, living off fruit, but they're carnivores if they have the opportunity."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I was just thinking about it," he said.
"Oh."
Bite your tongue, she said to herself. Bite it off and swallow it before you say anything stupid. She stiffened and rolled away from him, but to her surprise he rolled with her so that he was on top of her again.
She wanted to push him off but he held her arms pinned against the bed with his weight pushing down.
"I had to stop thinking about you," he said. "It was driving me crazy."
He kissed her and this time where he had been rough and frantic before he was now gentle and tender. His lips seemed to melt against hers, and then to softly meld into them. When his fingers touched her body they were as soft as his lips, but no longer rudely exploring, now they moved with practiced care, bringing her to him this time with infinite patience.
Pegeen was amazed that she could respond so fully again; she had thought she had given everything she had to give before; but he found new reserves within her and new recesses where she had not known that so much of her lived. She knew'from the softness of his touch, the tender patience with which he wooed her that he loved her, too. When he wanted her to, she exploded, and then again and again until she made him stop because it was all too exquisite to bear anymore.
When she had rested he brought her to a soaring peak again. He has but to think of me, she said to herself. He doesn't even need to touch me an more, just will it to be y so and I am helpless.
He held her the whole night through, never letting her out of his arms-not that she ever wanted to leave them clinging to her even when she was out of control and heaving insensibly. In the middle of the night she realized that he could not be sated. The fault did not lie with her, because she exhausted him as thoroughly he did her; he could not be satisfied by sex, because sex was not what he craved. He had an appetite for something else and sex was just an available substitute.
An hour before sunrise he released her at last and they rose and dressed and walked to the car in the crepuscular light of the foredawn. Pegeen felt so weak and tired she was surprised that she could even walk, but Becker was as tense as he had been the night before, every muscle seeming to quiver in anticipation. When they reached the spot on the map, he fairly leaped from the car and started off cross-country. Pegeen knew at last what his real appetite was for.
Aural had begun to believe she was going to die. She had fought him every moment since her abduction, battling him with her will, refusing to give in to her fear or to submit to his power, but she had not slept for two days now, the pain was constant, and worse than the pain was her loss of spirit. It was not total, it came in bouts of despair that would leave her wrung-out and hopeless, making it all the more difficult to rouse herself to withstand Swann's next ordeal. She could still rise up to defy him with her wit and courage, but the episodes of despondency were growing more frequent, lasting longer, and when she rose out of them, she did not rise as high.
She was losing her battle; it was no comfort that Swann' seemed to be losing his as well. He seldom went more than an hour or two before succumbing to the torment in his head and eye, clasping his hands over his face and keening. Aural knew it was ironic that the damage had been done to her torturer by the unlamented Harold Kershaw, but she was beyond being buoyed by irony. She hoped that Swann would drop dead, that his head would burst and his brains spill out on the cavern floor, but until he did, his bouts of suffering did nothing for her save offer her a brief respite from his tortures. The rests were never long enough for her to recover, and after each session more of her legs were covered with burns. He would soon start on her trunk, and Aural did not see how she could survive it when he got to her breasts.
She lay awake now, unable to find a position that offered her any relief from the pain. The bravura that had prompted her to rouse him from his sleep and rush back to the torture was gone now. When he moaned in his slumber, she wished him nightmares that would torment him as much as he tormented her, but she let him sleep.
Her resistance would be the strongest when he woke up. She could still taunt and defy him through breakfast, still make him believe that he had not broken her-but the mask would slip now when the day's activities began.
Only seldom could she rouse herself to defiance when he worked on her now; it took all of her concentration just to keep from pleading with him. She sensed that would be the end of her, when her spirit broke so completely that she begged him to stop would be the moment when he would triumph. She was still strong enough to deny him that, but she didn't know for how much longer. And in the end, would it make any difference if she went out cursing him or thanking him as he had predicted? It still made a difference to her now, but would it by the end?
She was beginning to doubt it.
She felt his eyes on her before he stirred and lit the candle. He would do that, lie there for a time, listening to her breathe, trying to gauge something about her, she did not know what. Or maybe he was just working himself up, savoring the pleasures of the day before they began.
This morning he was bright and cheerful. It ' was the fifth day. The fuel for the lantern was gone; they burned only candles now.
"I slept really well," he said. He was opening.a can of beans.