Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga) (34 page)

      
Magdalena lay bemused, the flame inside her raging far more fiercely than any in her burned skin. He was back in a moment, kneeling at her side to dry her with a cloth. Then as she toweled at her hair, he opened a small vial of sweet-smelling oil which he began to work gently into her skin, stroking her nose, cheeks, arms, and lower legs, paying particular attention to the little welts from insect bites. Lastly, kissing her palms and fingertips, he worked the oil into her small, delicate hands.

      
“I am sorry, Magdalena. I did not intend for you to stay out all day doing such menial and difficult labor. I am ever wanting to break your high-spirited Castilian pride, but at the same time I know well that if ever I succeeded, I would regret it.” He paused and looked into her eyes, filled with wonder, luminous in the twilight.

      
A small smile wobbled on her lips. “Then 'tis a good thing I am possessed of such a mighty reserve of stubborn pride, is it not?” She reached up and pulled him into her arms.

      
Aaron kissed her slowly, as if to drain the sweet heat from her mouth, deepening the kiss as he tangled his hands in her glorious mane of hair. Then he moved down her body with wet silky caresses, stopping to suckle and tease the pale pink nipples of her proudly upthrust breasts. When she arched her back to meet his mouth, he felt a primitive thrill. Magdalena always made him feel, at least while they made love, that she had never felt another man's touch.

      
His questing hands moved lower, followed by his hot moist lips, brushing firmly across her belly onto the mound of curls below. Then he parted her thighs and nuzzled the delicate flesh of her sex. He could feel her trembling yet resisting. He ignored her shocked protest as he persisted, holding her hips prisoner with his strong hands. Magdalena surrendered with a moan of ecstasy, and he continued to stroke, lick, and kiss, using his mouth to make her limp and mindless with pleasure.

      
She was aflame, writhing, no longer in resistance but in utter abandon as he probed and lapped her in this shocking, incredible new way. She should stop him. This was unnatural. This was glorious. Soon her hands had left off pushing at his shoulders to tangle in his shaggy gold hair, urging him onward until she felt the most exquisite, intense release she had ever experienced. Her hips arched up toward the starry sky, then fell back to earth like the soft lapping waters that caressed the edges of the pool.

      
Aaron lifted his head and looked at his wife's dazed, replete face. For all she had been with other men, he felt equally certain that none had ever made love to her this way. Even Magdalena could not act that well! He watched her luminous green eyes open as she stared up at him in awe. Still shaking, she touched his cheek with great tenderness and then looked away, her thick russet lashes shielding her emotions from him. As she sat up, her body was sheened silver in the moonlight that filtered through their waterfall curtain. The night air was balmy and perfumed, sweetened even more with the rich musk of sex.

      
Magdalena watched his face. She was satiated by the incredible pleasure he had given her, yet embarrassed and vulnerable because of the way he had done so. Finally she found her voice. “Where...where did you learn of that?” The moment she asked the question she feared the answer—the hedonistic Taino women were doubtless highly inventive in the art of love.

      
His low, rich chuckle did nothing to dispel her fears until he answered, “In Granada. I was ever a good student of Arabic. On several occasions I was sent into the city before the siege, posing as a Jewish scholar loyal to their cause. While spying for the Trastamaras, I visited Boabdil's court and the various pleasure houses of that decadent and beautiful city.” He ran his hand along her thigh and up to her breast softly. “The Moors are very attuned to the needs and pleasures of the human body.”

      
She almost blurted out another question.
Have you done this with Aliyah?
She stopped herself. It was foolish to seek answers best left unknown. She looked at his splendid body as he reclined on his side. His shaft remained rigid, his whole frame filled with sexual tension. Magdalena took a deep breath for courage and reached out to touch him, running her fingertips from his face down to the golden fur on his chest, tracing its narrowed descent across his taut belly. She paused in mock playfulness and whispered, “This Moorish way of loving...can a woman do for a man...” Her courage deserted her.

      
Aaron reached for her hand and wrapped it around his aching phallus. “Yes, she can,” he managed to reply hoarsely as he felt the white hot jolt of pleasure her touch brought. “Tis a way of making love that is very ancient. Not only the Moors know its secret.”

      
“Teach me,” she said softly, almost as if it were a supplication. She leaned over him as he guided her, slowly, gently, to taste of him. Magdalena felt increasingly bold when he gasped and arched at the slight grazing by her lips and tongue. Then he attempted to instruct her in roughened, breathless phrases, but she no longer needed instruction, and he was no longer capable of giving it. She took the sleek velvety heat of him into her mouth. His response communicated the same feeling of powerless surrender that she had felt when he held her in thrall. Slowly she savored him, pleasured by giving him the same ecstasy he had given her. When he stiffened and swelled, crying out incoherently, she felt a thrill of power that was almost intoxicating. Then he trembled and exploded, achieving the same earth-shattering release she had.

      
Aaron lay spent. Always there was this brief moment of deep peace that hovered about him after making love with this woman, only this woman,
his
woman, his wife. He pulled her up into his arms, not wanting to think on it or the reasons why it was so. He stroked her hair and held her close.

      
She nestled against him and murmured against his chest, ” 'Tis not unnatural at all. At first I thought it must be...but it is so good.” She hesitated, then turned her face up to his, searching for a kiss. “Do we taste of each other?” she asked boldly.

      
“Let us see,” he replied to her ingenuous plea for a kiss. He drew her close and claimed her mouth for a long, savoring kiss, not of passion, but of exceeding gentleness.

      
“Yes,” was her simple answer to her own question. With that her lips curved in a slight smile and she snuggled in his arms and slept.

* * * *

      
They returned to the village at dawn's first light, she clad in the long swath of cotton cloth they had dried on last evening, he again in a simple loincloth. Many people were stirring when they walked the wide streets, for this day was to be a special religious festival. Magdalena was curious about what would transpire. Her attitude toward these generous and gentle people was gradually undergoing a transformation. Always possessed of a lively and inquiring mind, she had honed it in the all-too-brief months of friendship with Benjamin Torres. Wanting to grow closer to her husband and please him, she too sought to understand the Tainos who had taken him to their hearts.

      
No longer were they simply naked savages to her, even though she chaffed beneath the double standards Aaron placed on her. The women of the village were sexually promiscuous and went about completely naked until they were wed. Yet he had always condemned her for what he unjustly considered her impurity and was furious when she did but bare her arms and legs.

      
She smiled and nodded as they passed by people busily at work outside their houses. Aaron was jealous! No man but him should see her unclothed. That gladdened her heart, especially after his tenderness last night. He had been penitent about sending her to work in the fields. Half his anger had been guilt, the other frightened possessiveness. Surely that meant he was beginning to return her feelings for him.
It may take me a great while, my husband, but I vowed to make you love me and I shall!

      
Around noon the drums began to beat in a slow, steady cadence. Everyone of rank in the village was freshly bathed and dressed in their finest ceremonial garb, bedecked with feathers in their hair, wearing many fine pieces of gold and copper jewelry as well as necklaces and girdles of intricate beauty.

      
“What do we do?” Magdalena asked Aaron nervously as she watched the streets fill with solemn Tainos queuing up to enter the temple next to Guacanagari's
bohio.

      
“I have told you that it might be best if you remained here,” he replied cautiously. “This is a feast to honor their
zemis
·, and as such may upset your religious sensibilities.”

      
She looked at him warily. “They are not going to serve me fish eyes or some such delicacy?”

      
He smiled. “No, nothing like that. Only
cassava
bread, specially blessed.”

      
“Then I shall go. I tire of those puling priests in Ysabel decrying the heathenish religion of the Tainos when they will not even come to the village and learn what the Tainos do believe. How can we teach them of our faith if we do not even know of theirs?”

      
“Fray Ramon is learning their language and customs. In time I think he might have more success—if they do not convert him first,” he said with a smile.

      
“Fray Ramon is a good man, if over-bookish, but I do not think he alone can accomplish much. The admiral petitions constantly for more priests and none are sent.” He thought but did not add that he was grateful for that fact.

      
There is no harm in my learning more of Taino religion in the meanwhile.” She looked at him to see how he responded.

      
“I doubt you are in any danger of being converted to
zemi
worship!” Then his face lost its smile and he walked over to her, caressing her long, burnished hair. “If you go, there is some unpleasantness I would warn you of—not so bad as the fish eyes, but...” He stopped and extracted two small gourd spoons from a pot in the corner and handed her one. “It is customary before this high festival to purge oneself at the door of the temple, as a purification.”

      
She looked confused. “I thought you said their daily bathing was their means of honoring the temple of the human body. What else would they need do—fast, mayhap?”

      
“In a manner of speaking.” Only when he attempted to explain to an outsider did Aaron realize how assimilated into Taino culture he had become. Not that he worshiped the
zemis
, but he did accept their way of seeing God and felt no need to convert them. He looked at her puzzled expression. “This,” he held up the small spoon, “is used thusly at the temple door.” He inserted the spoon to the back of his throat without pressing down. “You must purge yourself by vomiting.”

      
She paled. “I would as leave fast, but...” She shrugged philosophically. “Twill be most interesting. Guacanagari is the priest as well as the
cacique
, is he not?”

      
“Yes. He will lead the procession,” Aaron replied.

      
Then Aliyah will be with him.
“I will go with you and I promise not to disgrace myself or you. After the fish eyes, this will be but a simple matter—like eating green apples in early spring,” she added mischievously.

      
At times like this, Aaron felt himself falling more deeply under her spell. He forgot that her father was Bernardo Valdés, forgot that she may have been involved in his family's tragedy. She was not his enemy, but his wife. “Let us go. See you do as I show you,” he said sternly.

      
The procession was long and slow moving as nearly one thousand people—all those free people of sufficient rank, from artisans to the royal family—marched to the beat of the drum. Guacanagari, his brother, his wives, and his sisters led the procession. All the women of the royal family bore great baskets of
cassava
bread on their heads. Aliyah carried hers with regal grace while holding Navaro easily on one hip. Magdalena watched as Aaron's eyes fastened on his son.
He wants the child. I must accept that.
But she knew she would never accept her husband's continuing a relationship with Aliyah!

      
Steeling herself when they reached the large urns situated at each side of the wide door, she did as Aaron instructed quickly and then took a sip of water gratefully from a temple servant. The cane and thatch edifice was enormous, nearly fifty yards long and twenty wide. People huddled inside, squatting on their heels with the ease of those born to spend hours in such an uncomfortable position. Magdalena copied the others and sat close to Aaron, praying the ceremony would not take long.

      
Soon quiet spread as the women bearing the bread carried it into the center of the temple and placed the baskets around the large
zemi
of Guacanagari and a cluster of others.

      
As if on some prearranged signal, all began to sing. The chant was slow and resonant, coming from so many earnest voices raised in union. Aaron remained respectful but silent. Not knowing enough Taino to even understand the words, she did likewise, realizing with a sudden insight how a fifteen-year-old boy forced into a new faith must have felt when first brought to the cathedral in Seville. Since birth Aaron had been a Jew, an outsider in Castile, then a
converso,
unfamiliar and confused by the Christian faith. This for him was no new experience. But for Magdalena it was. She, too, bowed her head and maintained a respectful silence.