This Heart of Mine (57 page)

“My lord, it is a book for a woman, not a man,” Velvet replied, her cheeks turning pink again.

“Has Jodh Bai sent you a Pillow Book, perchance?”

Velvet nodded blindly, not daring to look at him.

“A Pillow Book, my Rose, is for both the bride and the bridegroom. It is believed that by viewing paintings of the postures of love together they will be reassured.” Akbar opened the box and lifted the book out. “Come,” he said to her. “Let us sit outside upon the terrace and view the book together. Bring a lamp so that we may fully enjoy the artwork, for much care and talent goes into the making of such a book.”

It was impossible to refuse him, and so with a sinking heart Velvet followed him onto the terrace. The night was warm, the slate-black sky sprinkled with bright stars. Akbar settled himself with his back against the cushions. He wore a white silk gown that was belted about his middle with a cloth of gold sash and his customary white turban, but his feet were bare as they usually were within the privacy of the zenana.

“Sit next to me, my Rose,” he invited, patting the cushions at his side.

Reluctantly she sat by him, and, placing the book where they both might see it, he opened to the first of the paintings.

On second glance it is not so shocking, Velvet thought. “The colors are very fresh, aren’t they?” she noted.

“Yes,” he answered her seriously. “Note that the prince portrayed wears a lotus crown. That would indicate that he
has reached a high level of spiritual attainment.” He turned the page, and Velvet sucked her breath in sharply. The beautiful consort was now bare-breasted, and the prince’s crown was gone. Akbar chuckled. “I do not believe the prince now thinks of the advancement of his soul, but rather the sweet flesh of his consort.” He turned to the next page.

The prince firmly clasped one of his lady’s breasts in his hand while his other hand roamed her bare belly. Velvet trembled, and Akbar’s hand closed over hers while he moved on to the next page. Here the prince and his consort were both unclothed, and she lay in his arms as he gazed lovingly down at her, his masculinity fully engorged and thrusting forward in anticipation. Velvet’s breath caught in her throat, and then she began to breathe rather quickly. Feeling Akbar’s fingers gently undoing the ribbons that held her blouse together, she tensed.

“No, my Rose,” he breathed warmly in her ear, “don’t be afraid of me. I have sworn not to force you, and I will keep my promise. I only wish to caress you. Surely you will not deny me that?”

“N-no, my lord,” she whispered, her throat tight as she forced the words out.

The ribbon ties undone, he pushed the silk blouse off her shoulders and then with swift fingers removed it completely, laying it to one side on the couch. His breath hissed softly. “Allah! Allah!” he murmured, “your breasts are like twin moons.” Reaching out, he began to stroke her with a light and gentle touch.

His caress sent a small shiver of pleasure racing through Velvet’s veins, and she was unable to restrain the small “ohhh” that slipped forth from between her lips.

Akbar moved her from her position at his side so that she sat between his legs. Drawing her back against his chest, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, his thumbs softly but insistently rubbing against her nipples. “Turn the page, my Rose,” he commanded her, and Velvet obeyed him.

The picture before her both shocked and excited her, for now the beautiful woman lay upon her back, the prince between her legs, his tongue gently probing at her deepest secret. She stared, fascinated, at the little painting. The woman wore a look of pure ecstasy, her eyes half-closed in her passion. Velvet shivered uncontrollably.

“Did your first husband do that to you, my Rose?” came Akbar’s deep voice. “Are you remembering your own pleasure?”

“Alex never d-did that to m-me,” she whispered. “I did not know that a man did such things to a woman.” She was still shivering.

“It is a way to give a woman sweetness, my love. A woman’s pleasure only adds to a man’s pleasure. I want to love you like that, my Rose. I want to give you joy.”

Velvet quickly turned the page, unable to bear it any longer. The paintings were frankly exciting her. If she could just get through the Pillow Book, then everything would be all right. But the next painting showed the woman between the man’s legs, her mouth caressing his sex. With a cry of despair she turned the page once more to discover the two lovers now joined in a conjugal embrace, his mighty shaft plunging deep into the beautiful consort, who was quite openly encouraging his efforts. “Oh, God,” she sobbed, closing the book with a slam.

Releasing his hold upon her breasts, Akbar pulled Velvet into his arms, and his mouth crushed bruisingly against hers. Unable to restrain her inflamed emotions, she wrapped her arms about him and returned the kiss as passionately. For some time they kissed hungrily and without ceasing, one deep kiss blending into another. His tongue made its first penetration of her, plunging between her lips and into her mouth to meet with her tongue, which leaped with shock at his touch and fled, only to be pursued until the two were entwining together with ever-mounting ardor.

Finally their lips parted, and he gazed down upon her with burning eyes. “I want to make love to you,” he said in his deep voice. “I want to plunge my lingam deep within your sweet yoni! Can you honestly tell me that you do not want me, too, my beautiful Rose? Can you honestly deny us the bliss that our bodies so desperately crave?”

“No,” came her reply, “I cannot, for I want you even as you want me!”

“Is this then to be our night of nights, my love?”

“Yes,” she said softly, sitting up so that she could loosen his golden sash and open his robe. Her hands trembled as she worked, but she was soon successful and the sash fell away. Velvet knelt and gently pushed away the white silk of his long robe, drawing it over his shoulders until it fell about his waist. Beneath it he was naked, his golden body smooth and hairless.

He watched her, charmed by the mixture of shyness and passion that seemed to control her. When she had worked his robe free, he reached out and undid the waistband of her sheer silk skirt, slipping it down over her slender hips. Then his lips
brushed her belly with sweet fire, and she gasped with delight as his hot mouth worked over her satiny skin. Swinging himself off the couch, Akbar lifted Velvet into his arms and, walking into her chamber, gently placed her upon the bed.

Velvet opened her arms to him. Her heart was hammering wildly, but she was no longer controlled by any common sense. All that mattered to her now was that he love her, love her as Alex had once loved her.

No! He was nothing like Alex! God! She didn’t want to think of Alex now. It was her wedding night with this man who was now her husband. Her mother had lived through six such nights and survived. Had she thought of the others? Velvet wondered. Had she ever thought of her old husbands as her new husband roused her to passion? I’ll never know, Velvet realized.

Akbar stood for a long moment gazing down at the beautiful young woman on the bed. Her skin seemed even whiter against the sky blue silk. She was offering herself to him, and he relished the sight, for he had waited so patiently for it. If age had taught him one thing it was patience. How long her legs were, and how shapely. Kneeling, he took her slim foot in his hand and tenderly kissed each pink toe. His lips traveled slowly up the warm length of first one leg and then the other. Her skin was soft and fragrant with jasmine. He sighed.

“How absolutely perfect you are in both face and form,” he said in his wonderful, rich voice. “I never knew that such pure beauty existed, but you, my Rose, surpass all others.” Then he joined her on the bed, removing his white turban as he did so, and Velvet was surprised to find that he had shoulder-length hair. She had assumed that his hair would be short as was that of the other turbanless men she had seen. He spread her thighs and then, lowering his dark head, pressed a soft kiss upon her quivering flesh. Opening her tenderly with his two thumbs, he gazed upon her tiny jewel and then with a low cry of desire began to love it with his tongue.

Her body leaped with shock at the sensation, and for a moment she grew dizzy. Reaching out, she touched his head and was amazed at the softness of his hair, which spread like a black stain across her white thighs. The touch of his tongue against that most hidden part of her offered her a feeling she likened to boiling wine flowing through her veins. At first she couldn’t breathe, and then when she was finally able to she gasped the air in great gulpfuls as she felt his tongue darting over her hot moistness, touching her here, touching her there with tantalizing madness. A tiny tingle began within her
very core, and it grew until it was almost unbearable. Velvet felt herself sliding into a wonderful, whirling pit of pure passion. In a brief second of sanity she tried to fight it back, but then with a soft cry she gave in to it, feeling herself soaring for what seemed a long moment, and then she floated back to earth with a long sigh.

Akbar moved upward on her body now, kissing and stroking as he went until he had reached her breasts. There he stopped and loved her again with exquisite skill and tender caring. His fingers caressed and molded her flesh until it grew taut and firm within his hands. His lips found her nipples, and he tongued them with vigor until finally her little, mewling cries told him that she needed a release of sorts. He took one of the hard, little spear points into his warm mouth and suckled upon it.

“My lord! My lord!” she whispered frantically, her slim fingers threading themselves through the silken length of his dark hair with growing desperation. The need within her for him was growing with each passing minute. Would he never take her? Would he continue this divine foreplay until she died from the very wanting?

He positioned himself so that she was caught between his muscular thighs. Taking her face in his hand, he bent, kissing her, and then commanded, “Look at me, my Rose.”

Velvet raised her eyes to him, blushing as she did so, for she knew her desire was as plain to him as his was to her.

“Are you willing, my beloved Rose? Do you hunger for me as I do for you? Would you have me consummate this marriage between us?”

“Oh, yes!” she whispered.

“Say my name!” he demanded. “I have never heard my name upon your sweet lips.”

“Take me and make me yours, my lord Akbar,” she murmured, “I long for you, my darling! Oh, Akbar! I can wait no longer!” She sobbed, and with bold hands she caught at the length of him and guided him to her throbbing body.

The touch of her hot, little hands upon his pulsing lingam caught him by surprise and almost caused him to spill his seed. He groaned, wanting to encase himself in her then and there, but age had taught him the wisdom of patience, and even in the midst of his passion Akbar knew that Velvet would be tight from her abstinence and lack of marital experience. Gently he pushed her hands away and carefully guided himself to the portal of paradise, inserting his swollen manhood just a tiny amount. She sobbed with a sound that sounded almost
like relief to him. Already her green eyes had closed, and her lashes were quivering against her cheeks.

“Please,” she almost sobbed against his lips, “please!”

“Shh,” he whispered back. “Shh, my sweet love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Frantically she thrust herself up at him, trying to drive him deeper, and he realized that she was too caught up in the throes of her own rapture to care any longer. A groan of delight escaped him that she was so very ardent in her nature and he shoved himself deep within her waiting yoni. With rhythmic motions he drove himself in and out of her again and again and again until he, too, was engulfed in the fiery ardor. He could not, it seemed, satisfy his intense desire for her even now that she lay beneath him giving him her body and her soul. Her own passion peaked several times before he finally could no longer contain himself, and he spilled his seed into her burning womb, falling across her breasts with a cry of fierce pleasure.

This first passionate encounter exhausted them both, and without a word they fell into a peaceful sleep, his dark hair mingling with her auburn curls upon the pillows.

Awakening several hours later, Velvet lay quietly for several long minutes. Comparisons were inevitable, she thought. Alex had been a wonderful lover, quick, passionate, and demanding; but Akbar was every bit as proficient. Not only that but he had been so very patient, so careful that she obtain her portion of pleasure, too. Instinctively Velvet knew that she was very fortunate in both of her husbands. Within her heart there would always be that secret, special place that would be inhabited by Alex Gordon, her first love, but if she continued to think of him, refused to let him go from her life, she would spend her days in misery. She had been given a good and loving man to care for her now, and she was grateful for it.

Propping herself up on an elbow, she gazed down at Akbar. He was handsome in a much different way than Alex had been. She did not know his age, but she did know that his sons were all older than she was, as were two of his three daughters who were already married. Only little Aram-Banu Begum was still a child. Akbar could be her father, and yet the feelings that were growing inside her for him were not those of a daughter for a father.

Reaching out, she gently touched his cheek. His golden skin seemed so dark next to her fairness, and his silky hair was so very black end straight. His eyes, she saw now, slanted a tiny
bit upward, yet he had not the look of an Oriental about him. He had a good body. It was sturdy and well formed, though he was not really any taller than she was in his bare feet. Well, perhaps an inch, but certainly no more. She could look him right in the eye when they spoke. Jodh Bai could not be any higher than his heart, and Rugaiya Begum came only to his shoulder, Velvet thought. Beneath his left nostril just above his lip was a mole the size of a pea. It gave him a rather distinguished look.

Unable to resist, Velvet bent and kissed that mole, and Akbar, who had merely pretended to be asleep during her careful inspection of him, surprised her by wrapping his arms about her tightly.