Then Elyana threw both arms around Blade, and one hand crept in under his tunic. Long, warm fingers played urgently across his bare skin. He bent to kiss her, and at the same time put both hands on her shoulders. The gown was just loose enough to slip down, leaving her shoulders bare. Blade's fingers danced up and down Elyana's cheeks and neck, across her throat and down across the swell of her breasts until they met the tissue of the gown. Meanwhile her own hand was working down his chest onto his stomach.
Elyana moaned, and Blade heard himself doing the same. Her perfume was changing subtly, as the smell of her arousal joined it. She gripped one of his hands and almost jerked it down to cup her breast. Blade heard the tissue rip, didn't care, and began to play with the hardening nipple under his fingers. The moans turned into gasps.
Elyana stumbled and fell against Blade, more tissue ripping and her nails digging into his skin as she held on for balance. This time her laugh was girlish.
Now she tried to pull her gown all the way off without letting go of Blade or moving back from him. In the process she pulled him off balance, and they both went down. Fortunately he didn't fall on top of her. The unexpected fall left him motionless just long enough for Elyana to strip off what was left of her gown, pull Blade's trousers nearly off his legs, and mount him.
Now that they were actually joined, Blade somehow found it easier rather than harder to control himself. His experience told him that Elyana would hold nothing back, if he first gave her the satisfaction that she sought so desperately.
Elyana was exquisite as she swayed back and forth above him, face turned to the stars and the moonlight glowing on shoulder and breast and thigh. Naked, she showed a sagging here and a thickening there that told of a good many years and several children. She also showed magnificent breasts with nipples like buds ready to blossom, and hair that caressed Blade's face every time she bent forward. As she breathed, she breathed out the warm musk of rising desire, and soon the gasps and moans turned into whimpers. Blade held her around the waist with one hand, while the other played with her breasts.
She reached her satisfaction so suddenly that Blade gasped not only in surprise but in pain as her hands gripped his hair. She twisted and writhed back and forth, tears running down her cheeks, and Blade had to grip her by the wrists to keep his hair from being pulled out in handfuls.
The movement sent him past the end of his own self-control. Before Elyana stopped writhing and twisting, Blade was doing the same. She fell across his chest as he shook, burying her face in his throat, letting her hair flow over his chest, clutching him to her as though trying to hide inside him or let him hide inside her. After a long time the last convulsions passed, and both of them lay still.
Chapter 9
The night was warm, and Blade and Elyana lay on the grass in the little clearing for hours, breathing the scent of the flowering trees and of each other. In those slow and lovely hours, they explored every inch of each other's bodies.
Finally Elyana gently pushed Blade's hands away from her breasts, sat up, looked at the torn and grass-stained remnants of her gown, and started to laugh. «Blade, could you look through the gardens and see if there are any clothes lying around that I could put on? I'd rather not return looking like this.»
«Do you think there will be any stray clothes?»
«I'll be surprised if there aren't. We weren't the only people spending the night this way.»
Blade laughed and started pulling on his pants.
That was his first night with Elyana. It wasn't his last, but there were fewer meetings than he'd expected, considering the hunger and passion she'd shown in the garden. Blade understood her reasons. No one expected a husband in Gohar to be faithful to his wife, but unfaithful wives could be set aside or even sent to the Island of Shells. Matters would be even more delicate when it was the wife of the heir to the Imperial throne.
One rainy afternoon they were lying on a flower-draped couch in the little shelter by Elyana's private swimming pond. The princess raised herself on one elbow and spoke.
«Blade, if you worry about offending Harkrat-don't waste your strength. You need it for other things.» She patted him in a way that made clear what «other things» she had in mind.
«You know him better than I do, Elyana,» said Blade. «I'll believe you, if you'll explain why this is so.»
«If I explain, will everyone in England know what I tell you?»
«No. I can leave anything you tell me out of my report. Not even my fellow Historians will know the details of your personal life.»
«Will you do that?»
Blade was about to agree, then realized he had a priceless opportunity to ask a few blunt questions about Gohar's secrets. «I will, if you will tell me what I need to know about Mythor.»
«Mythor?»
«You know. Mythor and its rebels.»
Elyana stiffened as if he'd jabbed her with a knife, and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. «You know?» It was almost a whimper, but not the kind she let out in passion. Now she sounded more like a small animal with its paw caught in a trap.
«I know just enough to want to learn more. Unfortunately, I haven't yet figured out a way to ask the right questions without Kloret hearing about it. I don't want that.»
«Kloret?»
«Yes.» He told her of his conversation with Kloret, and the Prime Minister's interest in Gohar's daughter city. By the time he'd finished, Elyana was laughing. She went on laughing until Blade realized she was on the edge of hysterics. He took her in his arms, kissed her lips, then her breasts. He stroked and caressed her until her laughter turned to moans and sobs.
When they were quiet again she said, «Blade, I don't suppose I can really do anything to you if you break your promise. At least not without injuring Harkrat and Gohar. Do I have your word of honor that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?»
«You do.»
What Elyana had to tell Blade was very simple. Prince Harkrat, heir to the throne of Gohar, was impotent. Completely and hopelessly. He'd been that way ever since he reached what would have been manhood in a healthy prince. He was a fine physical specimen in every other way, but one vital part of his body simply would not do what nature intended.
An idea seemed to strike Elyana suddenly. «Blade, are the English as far ahead of us in medicine as in everything else? Perhaps if you-«
Blade shook his head sadly. «Elyana, I am a Historian, not a doctor. I know just enough about medicine to know that your husband's case would be far beyond my skills. I might maim or kill him if I tried anything. Besides, would he be willing to let me know his shame? I would help him if I could, but I don't see that I can.»
«I suppose not,» said Elyana, and went on with her story.
Harkrat was no intellectual giant, but he was shrewd enough to realize that he'd have to learn to live with his flaw. If he didn't, he would ruin more than himself-he would ruin the Gohar his father had spent many years keeping at peace.
«And he's a kind man,» said the princess. «He'd have been a wonderful father if the gods had made him otherwise. As it is, he sees every Goharan as his son or daughter, to watch over and care for.»