Chapter Nine

Ling Xin felt it all. Her mind grasped and held on to every sensation, every detail, memorizing it, in the way that only the most diligent student could. Or at least she tried to, because to admit that she relished every second, was thrilled to the core with every caress, would be to admit that she wanted to be debauched in the most carnal way.

She wanted what he was doing, and so she gave herself up to the experience of it all.

His hands were on top of her night dress. The thin silk, however, did nothing to blunt the feel of his large hands gently cupping her breasts. She arched in reaction, simultaneously trying to move away and lifting herself deeper into his hands.

It made no sense. Oh heaven, her heart was racing so fast, and he was doing nothing but holding her.

His breath heated her ear, his tongue teasing across the shell. She shivered in reaction and her toes curled inside her slippers.

"Tell me what you feel," he whispered.

"Everything," she confessed.

"You must know the details specifically. You must remember what makes you feel good, what is too much, and what is exquisite."

Such words! Did she feel exquisite? Her body was shifting, moving of its own volition. And yet, she could not stop.

His palms pressed into her breasts, and then his fingers began to move. She felt them roll over her nipples, and the peaks tightened unbearably.

"Too much!" she gasped.

He immediately eased his grip, softening his hands until her breasts lay gently in his palms. And still his fingers moved over her nipples, the edge of his thumbnail tweaking the peaks.

"Better?" he asked, and she heard a note of humor in his tone.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked. She knew the tone of a man mocking a woman. His was not quite there, but—

"I mock myself, angel. Your breasts are sublime. Feel how I react to them." So saying, he thrust his hips forward slightly. She felt the press of his dragon, hot and hard against her back.

It aroused him to touch her? She supposed that made sense. The making of children was supposed to be a mutual thing, was it not? Enjoyable to both?

To test this, she rolled her back against his dragon, flowing her spine along his ridge, and then grinned when she heard him hiss in reaction.

"You liked that?' she asked.

In answer, he pinched her nipples. The pain was sharp and sweet all at once. Her gasp was both one of surprise and delight.

"You liked that?" he asked, and this time she knew he teased her.

But she was too far gone to care what either of them felt so long as it was more. More excitement, more tingling, more need as she dropped her head back against his broad shoulder and lifted her chest.

"Do it again," she said. "And I will do it back."

"Fox," he said, his voice low, "you torture me."

She smiled. She liked that she had some power here. "Shall I turn around?"

"No." His voice was firm as were his hands where they pressed against her breasts. No longer teasing, he was holding her in place.

"But—"

"Hush. You have not reached completion yet. We cannot stop until you do."

She didn't know what that meant, but she trusted him. Indeed, she very much feared she would let him do anything as long as he kept teasing her breasts the way he was. His strokes were varied and delightful, as if he was totally caught up in playing with her body, seeing when she gasped, what made her arch, and what made her sigh in delight.

He squeezed her breasts, pulled at the nipples, and moved them how he willed. And all the time, he whispered words that made her throat go dry. For all that she saw him as a fighter, nightly destroying phantom enemies in his practice, he was also a scholar. Words were his true weapons, and he used them to great effect now.

"Men love breasts," he said as his breath coiled about her ear. "We love to hold them, to touch them. We like to suck them and imagine our organ surrounded by them."

They were strange words to her ears, but when he matched them with his actions, she felt the truth of it in her body. Especially when his fingers pulled at her nipples as if he were suckling them right now. Every pull had her belly tightening. Every pinch made her back arch as if seeking more. She was so absorbed in what he did that she barely noticed when he raised his knees and pulled them wide. And as he widened his knees, her legs spread even more open.

She loved the breeze as it cooled her most intimate petals. And when the heat there built unbearably, she welcomed the way he pulled her gown up until she was exposed to the full night sky.

If she'd had the breath to speak, she might have objected. Indeed, she could have fought him if she wanted.

She did not.

She wanted his hands to flow across her belly. And when his two hands left her breasts to squeeze her thighs, she reveled in their strength…and held her breath in anticipation.

"Do you feel wet? Do you smell your scent?"

Yes and no. The air was redolent with both of their scents, both of their heat. Behind her back, she felt his dragon pulse. Between her thighs, his fingers moved across her thighs. They inched into the crease between thigh and mons.

Then he wiggled his fingers.

Her entire body pulsed. Her thighs quivered and yet he had done nothing but touch her legs. She wanted his fingers closer. She felt the breeze tease her heated flesh. And when he did not move, she whimpered.

"Are you ready?" he murmured against her cheek. "This is your first time. It may go fast."

Every part of her was ready, but she knew better than to beg. Instead, she rolled her spine against him and grinned when he gasped.

"Very well, Fox," he said. And then he slowly pressed his fingers down. She was so wet, they moved easily, slipping across bone and down into her petals.

She gasped as his hands opened her wider, slipping the thickness of his fingers everywhere. And yet, it was not what she wanted. She didn't understand. She could only feel.

"I love your scent," he said as he scooped up some of her moisture and brought it to her nose. It was a strange smell, but erotic enough that she inhaled deeply. "And I love the taste," he continued as he licked his fingers.

What a sight! His dark tongue lapping around his wet finger.

"It's a woman's chi," he continued. "The essence of creation." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "We drink it and grow strong."

She frowned, the meaning in his words triggering a memory. Her brother had studied secret texts, ones which were forbidden for her to read. But that hadn't stopped her. She had devoured them in secret, including the words of the Yellow Emperor about life essence and…

And this! This churning of desire was life force! When he touched her, when he heated the cauldron in her belly, he was bringing forth her energy. This was womanly essence, and now she knew why men sought it and why women allowed it. It was for this feeling, for this stirring of everything that was female.

And now she understood why the Yellow Emperor had said that drinking of a woman gave man life. And that releasing of a man's seed wasted his chi.

Is that what he was doing? Every time he swept up her moisture, every time he wrapped his tongue around his fingers, was he drinking in her energy? She had barely thought the questions through when he answered them.

"Here is the cauldron of female power," he said as he began to stroke her petals. "Do you feel it churn?"

She felt her belly quivering, her bottom lifting and lowering as she sought his fingers. Behind her back, she felt his dragon pulse, but it was only one of a thousand sensations overwhelming her. His one hand held her thigh open while the other pushed a finger inside her.

She felt the callouses of his palms, the invasion as he wriggled inside, and she found it all fascinating. He pressed in and out with a single finger. And then…

She gasped.

Two fingers, stretching her open. She closed her eyes. It felt so good.

"My dragon will go there," he said. "It will burrow deep."

His fingers moved inside her, and she groaned in delight. Still, she had the wherewithal to shake her head.

"Not you. It is for the emperor." The words were rote, a mantra she had been told since she was a child. Her glory was meant for the ruler of China.

Zhi Hao grunted as if annoyed. "Do not speak of another man when one is inside you," he growled.

With that, he thrust a third finger inside her, stretching her in a way that made her feel impaled and opened all at once. How could something so invasive feel so good? Her legs widened as he thrust his fingers in and out.

"Your channel is tight. I like that," he said. Then he set his teeth on her neck, abrading her hard enough to make her feel pinned above and below.

"This is what a man will do. He will thrust in you as you grip him." He tongued the skin where he had bit her. "Do it, Fox. Squeeze my fingers, and I will give you what you want."

She wasn't sure how to do it, but her body did. As he thrust up inside her, she squeezed him until he groaned. And then his thumb moved upward.

Lightning shot through her.

She cried out at the shock of it, and he immediately bit down on her ear.

"Shhh! Keep your cries inside you. Can you be silent even as I do this? And this?"

He was thrusting inside her as his thumb pressed harder against her other spot.

"This is your pearl," he growled against her ear. "I will make it shine."

He did. He rubbed it once, then twice, while her body undulated in wild abandon. She did not know how he held her. She was moving, arching, needing.

Then he stopped. Everything stilled, trembling on the edge of madness.

"More?" he rasped.

In answer, she jerked backwards enough to hit hard against his dragon.

"More," she commanded.

"Yes," he agreed. Then she felt him thrusting against her back, his hips working his dragon along her spine as he thrust his fingers into her.

And that glorious pearl he polished? It ached for him. It ached, wanting him. Then he spread her thighs as wide as they would go, and he rubbed his calloused finger all the way up.

Her pearl vibrated, and her body echoed it.

"More," she gasped. "Please."

His growl was low and thrilling. "Ask me again," he said as he rubbed her faster. Harder.

She hadn't the breath.

So close!

"Please!"

Yes!

It was as if her body vibrated itself apart with bigger and bigger waves until she was soaring into pleasure. Such bliss! She felt suffused by it.

She heard him grunt behind her, felt the wetness of his release against her back, and she knew that men did indeed enjoy a woman's pleasure.

Or at least he had. And she was well pleased. Indeed, she didn't think she had ever been so pleased in her entire life.

She floated, alight and alive in his arms. She listened to his ragged breath as she drifted in sweetness.

"I want to do that every day and night," she murmured. "If I were allowed, I would never stop."

He didn't answer. Indeed, she began to wonder at his silence. Had she done something wrong?

She twisted her head to look at him. His face was in shadow, but she saw his expression. It was not quite angry. Not quite joyous. Rueful?

"Why do you frown?" she asked.

"Your body is beautiful," he finally rasped. "Your skin glows in moonlight and when you are flushed with passion, you seem to shimmer."

"It is the silk. There are gold threads in the design."

He shook his head. "It was you. Open. Glorious. How could I stop myself?"

"What?" she straightened, suddenly afraid. "What have you done?'

"Nothing to harm your virginity, Ling Xin. I did not mean to give you my chi this night." He gestured down at himself where his pants were wet with his release.

"But that is good, yes? That is what I want. To excite the emperor enough that—"

"Yes," he interrupted a bit harshly. "Yes, that is what you want. Heavenly nectar for China's great emperor." His tone was bitter, and she suddenly understood that he was jealous. Of course, he was. All men wanted to be the emperor.

"If I could choose," she said softly. "I would watch you from behind the women's screen when you spoke with my father. I would burn incense and pray that he chose you."

He sighed and touched her temple with his. "That is a lovely dream," he finally said. "But there is not enough time."

"For what?"

"For me to pass the imperial exam. For me to receive a place in government high enough that I can support myself and my sisters." He sighed. "To support a wife."

She understood what he was saying. What they were both saying. If things were different, he would court her in the usual way. He would apply to her father and perhaps she would be able to whisper her preference into her father's ear. But Zhi Hao needed something to show his value. Something like a good appointment with a good salary.

There was not enough time for him to do all that before the Feast of Fertility in a month. And even if there were time, her father would never allow her to have a husband who was not the emperor.

Zhi Hao looked at her, and then he slowly drew his wet fingers up to his mouth. He licked it, his eyes drifting shut as he did so. The sight was eerie, and yet so erotic that she felt her belly tighten again. And when he was done, he looked down at her.

"I have drunk so little of your chi, Fox," he murmured. "It is nothing compared to what you have taken from me."

"Taken?" she snorted. "I took nothing from you. And why do you call me a fox?" She twisted so that she could face him more squarely.

"Because I cannot believe you are the Song daughter spreading her thighs here for me. It is not possible."

"So you think me a fox spirit instead?"

"It is that or believe you are a flesh and blood woman that I can never have."

She shook her head. "You are an idiot." She twisted her legs together, thankful that the stone wall was very thick. It gave her room to maneuver. "And you will never pass the exam if you believe fox spirits haunt you."

With that, she walked away from him, looking for the chair she had set against the wall. There might be moonlight, but it was still dark here in this corner of the garden. Besides, her legs were heavy, her spirit languid. She had no understanding of the nonsense he was spouting. Did a man's release make him addlebrained?

He watched her in the darkness, the white of his eyes eerie in the moonlight. He neither moved to assist her nor straightened against the tree. He stared at her with a bemused expression half forlorn, half awed.

"Zhi Hao—" she began, but he cut her off.

"You shimmered at your completion."

"I am a normal woman. I am not a deity, even a small one."

"You are so much more than a normal woman," he said as he finally got up and walked over to her, holding out his hand to help her descend. "Even if you are not a fox, you are exquisite." His voice broke on the last word, as if it meant more to him than she knew.

"Good night, Zhi Hao," she said. "Thank you for teaching me this."

Then she dropped down to the ground. Thankfully, her legs held her up. Her footfalls might be a bit heavy, but she was strong enough to put the chair back where it belonged. And as she did, a flicker of movement caught her eye.

It was a shadow that flitted past her into the greenery. A hint of red, a flash of a bushy tail, and two eyes that blinked at her.

She gasped and spun around, but there was nothing there. Nothing except her imagination. He had called her fox, and so she had made one out of the shadows. There was nothing there except darkness and the lingering bliss that still suffused her body.

Now she understood the Yellow Emperor's words about a woman's chi. Now she knew why men sought copulation so desperately. The feelings were amazing. And now she wondered…

How much more was there for her to know? If such bliss was part of life and she hadn't even guessed, what more did Zhi Hao know that she did not? And how could she get him to teach her everything?