This Heart of Mine (64 page)

“You are rested now, my Rose?”

“Quite, my lord,” Velvet replied.

“Good,” Akbar said with a smile, “for I intend to drive you hard this night.”

“My lord!” Her tone rebuked him gently.

He chuckled. “I must if we are to fill that cradle in that sad and empty room across the hall.” The look he sent her was a smoldering one.

“I would please you in all your desires, my lord,” she teasingly answered. How handsome he is, she thought. He is so totally different from Alex with his craggy face. My lord Akbar’s features are like those of a bird of prey, and yet when he looks at me those features soften and grow kind. It cannot be easy being a great ruler.

Akbar reclined on his side, his head propped up by his hand. “What are you thinking, Candra?” he asked her.

“I was thinking of how different you and Alex are,” she answered him honestly.

“He was fair of skin?”

“Oh, yes, very! The men of my country are fair naturally, though they are known to brown in the sun.”

“Does the fact that my skin is darker than yours bother you?” he asked.

“Oh, no, my lord! And except for your eyes, which slant just the tiniest bit, your features are quite like ours.”

“We will make a beautiful child, my Rose.” Then he reached out and caressed one of her breasts. Almost immediately the little nipple quivered into a point. He smiled and, leanning forward, stroked it with his warm tongue, circling it until it was rigid. Then his mouth closed over it, and he sucked hard, sending darts of painful pleasure to her very core.

Velvet fell back upon the bed, her breath coming in quick, little pants. Her fingers entwined themselves in his soft, black hair, sliding down to massage the nape of his neck. He rumbled with pleasure at her touch, and, having satisifed himself at her one breast, he moved his mouth to its twin. The deserted breast was not be neglected, however, for while his lips wreaked havoc on one, his free hand kneaded the other breast strongly, his fingers taunting it until Velvet was unable to lie quietly, so tantalizing were his actions.

“Keep still!” he commanded her. “If you give in too quickly to pleasure you lose half of it.”

“It is too sweet,” she protested.

“This is only the beginning, my Rose. It will be far sweeter before we are through.” He shifted his weight now so that he was lying almost atop her, and his hands caught her face, his lips finding hers. They kissed until Velvet was forced to tear her head away from his, gasping for air, but he forced her back to his will, his mouth coming down again bruisingly upon hers. She felt his tongue moving insinuatingly along her lips, and she parted them so that he might penetrate her. Boldly she pushed her own tongue into his mouth, and he sucked upon it, savoring her sweetness. Sated now with her lips, he kissed her shadowed eyelids, the corners of her eyes and mouth, the sensitive place where her jawbone met her ear.

“There are many paths to pleasure,” he murmured to her. “I would explore them with you, Candra. You are yet so innocent that the mere thought of your ignorance fires my blood.”

“Teach me everything,” she whispered back to him. “I would know all, my husband.”

He smiled to himself at the naiveté of her words. “Not all, my Rose, for there are those who find pleasure in pain, and I do not believe you are one, are you?”

“Pleasure in pain? That is mad!”

“I agree, and yet there are people who cannot gain the summit of joy without it.”

“That could never be my way, my lord.”

“No,” he agreed, “but there are other paths I would take with you, Candra. Perhaps they will not please you, and if that is so then we will not travel those paths again. Will you trust me to school you?” She nodded, and he continued, “Is the virginity of your bottom still intact?”

Velvet was puzzled. “The virginity of my bottom?” she said. “I do not understand, my lord.”

“There are three passages by which the lingam may find pleasure. Within your mouth, your yoni, and the rose hole of your bottom,” he explained. “You have learned the delights of the first two, and now I would instruct you in the third.”

While Velvet pondered his words, Akbar spoke a swift command in Hindi to Rohana, who obediently arose from her seat and, going to one of the carved trunks, removed a rolled, quilted mattress of emerald green velvet, which she spread upon the floor. She then returned to her place by Toramalli’s side and began to sing softly to the other girl’s accompaniment.

“Come, my love,” said Akbar, rising from the bed and drawing Velvet up after him. He led her to the mattress upon
the floor. “We will need a firmer foundation for this than our marvelous bed.”

Velvet looked at her two servant girls. “Must they remain?” she asked her husband.

“To make love is a natural thing,” he answered her, “and their music will inspire us. Besides,” he teased her gently, “they will not look. They are slaves, and it is not their place to watch, only to serve us. They know that should I see them staring I will have them blinded with hot coals so that they will never spy again upon their master.”

Velvet shivered. He said the words so matter-of-factly. The differences between their cultures were staggering in some instances, and she wondered if she would ever get used to the contrast.

“Now, my Candra,” Akbar began, “I want you to kneel, your legs spread just slightly, your head resting upon your folded arms.” While she followed his instructions, Akbar took a small flask that Rohana had left by the mattress and opened it. Dipping his finger into the flask, he oiled the finger well. Then spreading the twin moons of her bottom, he began a gentle insertion of his finger. Velvet squealed and tried to twist away, but he quieted her, saying, “I will not hurt you, my love. Do not be frightened.” He could feel her relax at the sound of his voice, and smoothly he moved his finger into her to the first knuckle. “Am I hurting you?” he questioned her.

“N-no, my lord, but I find the sensation strange,” she said, low.

“Only because you are unfamiliar with it,” he answered, and began a gentle rhythm with the encased digit. When she had become quite accustomed to this action, he withdrew his finger and re-oiled it along with a second finger. Rubbing the tight little pucker of her rose hole, he inserted both fingers. Velvet shrieked softly and once again attempted to evade the pressure of his fingers, but Akbar would not let her. Within her tight passage he veed the two fingers in an attempt to open her wider. When she realized that she wasn’t being harmed, Velvet quieted once again. Slowly he moved his fingers back and forth until he felt she was ready to receive him fully. He was already hard with anticipation and the wine he had drunk, which was well laced with stimulants in order that he might perform well with his young wife. Removing his fingers, he now oiled his great shaft, and, holding her bottom open with one hand, he used the other to position himself.

“The first entry is the hardest as it was when your yoni was
first penetrated. I will go very slowly, and although you will feel pressure, you should not really feel any pain.”

“I am a little frightened,” she admitted.

“New ways are always frightening, and this may not be to your taste, my Rose. Should that be so, we will not do it again. The pleasure should be for us both.”

“Do you gain pleasure from this way, my lord?”

“Diversity has its advantages as one grows older,” he answered her. Then he began to press firmly against her back passage. At first it would not give, but then as he increased the pressure the little opening began to blossom against the force of his eager shaft, which suddenly broke through. The head of his mighty lingam was firmly imbedded within her.

“Ohhhh!” Velvet cried softly, and she bit her lower lip.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked anxiously.

“N-n-o.”

He gave her several moments to become used to the sensation, his hands now firmly grasping her hips. Then he began very slowly to move deeper within her. She was wonderfully tight, her little bottom passage seeming to almost suck him deep inside her each time he moved farther forward. He was finally lodged completely, and it took every ounce of his self-control to prevent himself from spilling his seed.

Velvet had never felt so filled in her entire life. She was not certain that she liked this manner of lovemaking. His weight pushed down upon her as he reached forward to crush her breasts within his hands. At the same time he began love’s rhythm, drawing himself almost completely out of her back passage, then pushing himself back into her at an increasing rate of speed. His warm hands moved from her breasts downward to her very core, and he gently stroked her. Now Velvet began to grow restive and squirmed beneath his touch. To her surprise she felt the tension beginning to build within her, and she moaned softly. He quickened his pace, his own desire now building and growing as he plunged within the tight sheath. Her hips were now moving in tempo with his, thrusting upward to meet his own movement. Akbar could feel the storm of passion fast rising within his own body. Unable to control it any longer, he let it burst forward as with a cry Velvet collapsed beneath him.

For some minutes he lay, his weight pressing her down, and then, rolling off her, he pulled her into his arms.

“Tell me, Candra. Was it to your liking?”

She sighed deeply. “I gained some pleasure from it, my
lord, but I do not think that given the choice I should choose to make love in this fashion often.”

“Then we will not do it again, for pleasure should be the only outcome of our union.”

“The
only
outcome?” she teased him.

He smiled to himself. She had not really enjoyed the last half-hour and yet she joked with him. He liked her spirit. Another woman would have wept and reproached him. “I cannot impregnate you every time we make love,” he protested, and she laughed.

“I also do not believe you can give me a child in such an act as we have just performed, my lord.”

Akbar chuckled, genuinely amused. God help him but he loved this fair-skinned girl with her wonderful reddish hair and her emerald green eyes. “Then we shall have to begin again at the beginning,” he answered her. He called to the two serving girls who ceased their music and brought a basin of warm, scented water and love cloths to cleanse their master and mistress. Velvet bore with this stoically although she was still uncomfortable when the servants handled her so intimately.

When the girls had finished, Velvet spoke gently to her husband. “Send Rohana and Toramalli to their beds, my lord. It is late, and I will care for you myself. I prefer it. It is the way of my people, that women sweetly serve their men.”

“How meek you sound, my Rose,” he teased her. “I cannot believe it is you to whom I listen.” Then he spoke quick words to the two serving maids, and they bowed themselves from the room. “Now,” he said with mock seriousness, “you may serve me sweetly, my Candra.”

“You have but to command me, my lord,” she teased him back.

Standing, he drew her up and led her back to their bed. Then his arms tightened about her, their lips met in a fiery kiss, and they fell back onto the soft, silken mattress, their limbs intertwined. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth. “In the spring I will take you to Kashmir and build you a palace beside a blue lake. We will live forever in the shadows of the great mountains and raise our child in peace. Together you and I will hunt the ibex, the stag, the markhor, and the bear. You will like Kashmir, for its beauty is a perfect frame for your own. I will make you happy, Candra. By the great God who created us all, I swear it!”

“I am happy just being with you, my lord Akbar. How can you rule your kingdom if you exile yourself from its capital?

I cannot let you do that for me. It would be wrong. Keep me by your side, my dearest husband. It is all I ask of you.”

“I am growing older,” he answered her. “I have not been well in the last several years. Let Salim have it, for by God he longs for the power. Already he sows rebellion against me in order to claim his birthright. I will give it to him and depart. I will only take with me the wives whose company I actually enjoy. The others will remain here in Lahore. The fewer of my women I have with me, the less I will have to listen to their complaints. Now that I think on it I shall take only Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai with us.”

“No, my lord Akbar. If you attempt to do this thing you will endanger me. You are not old and feeble. You are a great leader, a great king. You are loved and respected by all who know you. Abdicate your throne for a rash boy and you will plunge your country once again into a civil war. Salim cannot hold together the princely states as you do. If you love me, you must promise me that you will not leave the throne. Build me a palace in Kashmir, and each year in the hot weather we will journey forth there to enjoy the mountains and the waters.”

“This is truly your wish, Candra? You are content to live in Lahore, to follow me across this land when I must go?”

“I am content, my husband, as long as I am with you.”

He kissed her once again, this time his mouth fiercely taking possession of her soft lips. His hard body bore down upon hers, and she opened herself to him, sighing as he slipped his hard shaft within her silken sheath.

“You are mine,” he whispered, raising his head to look down into her eyes. “Tell me you are mine, my beloved wife.”

“I am yours, my lord husband, I am yours for as long as God will give us life, and afterwards I will be yours into eternity.” Then taking his head between her hands she kissed him sweetly, kissed him until he could bear no longer the honeyed passion she aroused within him. With a ferocious cry he ground himself savagely into her, flooding her throbbing body with his essence, and together they created a child in that wonderful and blinding moment.