The Lion Rock

by Sally Wenteorth

  At last she quietened and he lifted his head to look at her. He was still terribly angry, she could feel it running through his body, see it in the grimness of his face. But now he knew that he had won and there was triumph too in his eyes. His fingers moved in her hair, turning her head into position for his last assault on her unprotected mouth. Slowly his head came down. He didn't close his eyes, but kept them on her until his hard mouth took hers and he opened her lips. Her surrender was complete; she hung limply in his arms, her strength drained away. Time seemed to stand still: he could have been kissing her for a minute or for an hour. Sound and sight had deserted her, she hung in a long black tunnel in which only the pressure of his body against hers was real. And it lit a fire deep within her that grew into an all-consuming flame. Her lips again moved against his, but this time in passion and need. He let go her arms and she slid them round his neck, clinging to him fiercely, wanting to lose herself for ever in his arms.

  After a while, he bent and picked her up, carried her into her bedroom and shouldered the door shut behind them. They clung together for a long moment without speaking and then he gently took her arms from round his neck and began to undress her. He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, and Cordelia shuddered as his hands touched her breasts, her hair tumbling round her neck. But her movement aroused him uncontrollably and his hands became urgent, as he took off the rest of her clothes, then his own, and lifted her on to the bed. He made love to her with a fierce passion that only became gentle and tender when his first hunger had been appeased. To Cordelia the night was a feast of rapture and she responded totally, as if the act of love with him was something she had waited for all her life. She yearned for him, ached for him, and only the mingling of their bodies in violent ecstasy could fulfil that need.

  Afterwards, when he left her as the sun reached the pillows, Cordelia lay for a few moments in satiated happiness; she remembered the wide breadth of his shoulders, his weight as he pinned her to the bed, the salt taste of perspiration on his skin when she ran her tongue lightly across his chest. She recalled with joy how skilfully his hands had brought her to moaning arousal the second time, and how much—oh, God, how much! pleasure his mouth could give. She tried desperately to stay awake, to go on reliving the night, but exhaustion drew her into the flowing stream of sleep.

  It was late when she woke, the sun high in the sky. For a moment she thought that it was just a dream, but then she saw the bruise marks on her skin, felt the stiffness in her body. Quickly she got out of bed, wanting to lie and dream about the hours they had spent in making love, but wanting even more to see Marcus again, to touch him, to know that he was close. She paused while towelling herself dry to look at her naked body in the long mirror. There were bruises, too, at the tops of her legs and red marks on her breasts where he had been rough with her in his first hunger. Cordelia covered the marks with a pair of shorts and a bikini top, then hurried out to find her lover.

  As she stepped out on to the verandah the sun caught her and she paused, lifting up her face to bask in it, stretching her body like a long, golden animal.

  'If you go on doing that I shall want to do what I did last night all over again.' Opening her eyes, Cordelia saw Marcus sitting in one of the padded garden chairs. A sudden shyness overcame her, but he held out his hand and she ran to him. Pulling her down on to his lap, he kissed her possessively. 'You all right?' he asked, when he at last released her mouth.

  She nodded, her head on his shoulder, her blue eyes gazing lovingly into his. 'It must be very late.'

  'Mm. Much too late for breakfast; you'll have to wait till lunch.'

  'Oh, lor', I'm starving. Maybe I'll eat you instead,' she told him, beginning to nibble his ear.

  Marcus laughed. 'You took several bites out of me last night. Wildcat!' he added, giving her a playful punch on the jaw.

  Cordelia caught his hand and gently opened his fist, entwining her fingers with his, marvelling at its strength and size compared to her own. She felt that she wanted to look at him all over in the daylight, to memorise each hair, each pore of his skin, to know his body as well as her own.

  'What are you thinking?' Marcus demanded.

  "That I want to know every little bit of you,' she admitted, kissing his fingers.

  'Do you indeed? And which part would you like to start with?' he asked suggestively.

  But she refused to be drawn. 'Oh, your hand will do.' She paused, then added rather breathlessly,'For now.'

  His fingers tightened on hers and his eyes darkened. Pulling her to him, he kissed her again.

  Neither of them was aware of the houseboy's presence behind them until he coughed tactfully. 'The post has arrived, sir.'

  'All right. Leave it on the table.'

  The servant withdrew as quietly as he had come and Cordelia sat up. 'He saw us.'

  'Do you mind?'

  She looked at him in some surprise. 'No—but I thought you would.'

  'Why?'

  She almost said because of Sugin, but she wasn't going to spoil the day by doing that. 'Why else did you leave me and go back to your room this morning?' she countered.

  'Only so that you could get some sleep. Single beds may be okay for making love, but they're not very comfortable for two people to sleep in.'

  'I wouldn't have minded.' She lay back against his shoulder again. 'I'd like to wake up with you beside me.'

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. 'Your father was out here earlier. He seems to have something on his mind.' 'He's had something on his mind ever since he came to Sri Lanka,' Cordelia agreed with a sigh.

  'Won't he tell you what it is?'

  'No. He's never confided in me.

  We're not very close—but then you know that.' 'Yes.'

  They talked a little longer about her father and then Cordelia got off his lap while he looked at his mail and the servant prepared the table for lunch, after the meal they took the car and Marcus drove inland, away from the roads used by the tourist traffic. They stopped to buy a king-coconut for a couple of rupees from a pedlar and Marcus cut a hole with his penknife in the top of the big, bright orange fruit, and they shared the juice, the liquid trickling down their chins. Where the road petered out, Marcus parked the car and they walked along the bed of a green, sun-filled valley where wild flowers grew in profusion and streams from the high hills above hurried along their rock beds. They came to a place where a high ledge jutted out and formed a waterfall with a small pool below it. Here Marcus kissed her and slowly took off her clothes. His mouth found her breast and she held his head there and groaned with delight, never wanting him to stop, but he took off his own things and led her under the waterfall.

  The water was stingingly cold after the hot sun and made her gasp, but Marcus held her against him until her skin was used to the change and she had stopped shivering. Then he began to gently wash her all over, exploring the while with his hands, his eyes, his lips, until Cordelia discovered that it was quite possible for fire and water to exist together. Then he took her, there under the waterfall, her cries of pleasure lost beneath the noise of the cascading waters.

  It was the beginning of days of unallayed happiness. Cordelia found Marcus to be a wonderful lover, very experienced but willing to teach her, guiding her hands s6 that she would know what to do to give him pleasure, and appreciative when she learnt quickly or used her own imagination. They talked a little, they ate a little, but they were greedy for each other's bodies and spent most of the time making love. It was as if each time, instead of satisfying their appetites, only made them hungry for more, as if they Could never have enough of one another. And each time was different; different in emotion and intensity. Sometimes Marcus made love to her slowly, taking his time, gently caressing each part of her until she couldn't stand it any longer and cried out for him to take her. Then he would tease her a little, pretending that he'd changed his mind, until she grew desperate and pushed him down on to the bed and made him love her. Sometimes h
e was like the first time, so eager and hungry for her that he took her with a demanding ferocity, his strength hurting her a little, and perhaps Cordelia liked it that way the best of all, because it was then, as his body jerked in uncontrollable climax, that he groaned out, 'Oh God, Cordelia. I love you! I love you!' He murmured endearments to her often, paid her compliments that frequently brought a flush to her cheeks, but they were the only times he said that he loved her.

  They spent one morning working on the book until it was finished and then ceremoniously parcelled it up and took it to the post office to send to England. And, of necessity, they both spent some time with her father, but he seemed preoccupied and quite willing for them to leave him alone in the house. Marcus told her he had asked if he might use the phone, but they never saw him do so, so guessed that he must wait until they were out of the way.

  'Did he say who he wanted to call?' Cordelia asked.

  'No, but he asked for directories for the whole island.'

  'How strange. I wonder what he's doing?' But Cordelia only puzzled over it for a few moments. When Marcus took her hand and led her into the garden she forgot about it completely. Just as she had forgotten about Sugin; the other girl hadn't been to the house since their first night together and she supposed that Marcus had ordered her to stay away. But after that first day she hadn't even thought about her, she was too high, too much living on a cloud to let unpleasant thoughts mar her happiness.

  One day they got up very early and drove across to the eastern side of the island to the long, almost deserted golden beaches near Trincomalee, where the only shade was from the palm trees which grew on the edge of the shoreline. Marcus drove on past the beaches near the few tourist hotels until they found a small, secluded cove to themselves. There he insisted they take off their clothes, and Cordelia experienced for the first time the wonderfully free sensation of swimming naked, felt the warm blue water caress her body almost as sensuously as Marcus had. She also experienced for the first time what it was like to be laid down in the shallows and be made love to as the little waves rippled over them.

  They lay close together on a huge beach towel, soaking up the sun, and Cordelia said dreamily, 'Will it always be like this?'

  Marcus smiled and raised himself on one elbow, his eyes running over her nakedness in quiet pride of possession. 'Do you want it to be?'

  'Yes. Oh, yes!' She spoke in a fervent, heartfelt tone, unable now to imagine any life but this.

  'Then it will be,' he answered simply.

  Cordelia thought about it for a moment and then sat up and looked at him. 'How, Marcus? What will we do when my father's well enough to leave here?'

  'Don't let's worry about that now.' He lay back and reached up to caress her breasts. 'Why think about the future when the present is so perfect?' He began to pull her down on top of him. 'Come here, my beautiful golden girl.' She smiled and without the slightest hesitation, did what he wanted.

  The next night they dined at the bungalow and afterwards went for a walk in the garden. When they came to the' frangipani tree .Marcus again leant against its trunk, as he had that night when he had first kissed her with such passion, a night that seemed a lifetime ago. But now he brought it back by saying softly as he took her in his arms, 'Do you remember when we kissed Under this tree—when we'd been to Sigiriya to see the Cloud Maidens?'

  'Of course. I wanted you so badly. I thought you were going to take me to bed with you that night. Why didn't you? Didn't you want me then?'

  'Are you crazy? God, you were driving me so wild that I near as dammit tore off your clothes and made love to you here on the ground!' For a moment his hands tightened on her arms, then relaxed. 'But it seemed wrong for all sorts of reasons. You were so young, and I didn't want to take advantage of you. And when you give, you give all of yourself—holding nothing back. Even that first time you spoke of love. But I wasn't ready for that sort of commitment.'

  'So you decided to introduce me to Steve?'

  'Mm.' He ran a hand absently through her hair. 'But then every time I saw you with him or thought about you together I got more and more jealous until it all blew up in my face and I couldn't stand it any longer.'

  Cordelia laughed happily and put her arms round his neck. 'So you took me for yourself. It would have been a lot better if you'd done what we both wanted that first time. But you can always make up for it now,' she added, moving her thighs voluptuously against his.

  His hands came down on to her hips. 'Are you suggesting what I think you are, Miss Allingham?' he demanded, his voice thickening.

  'Oh, yes, Mr Stone,' Cordelia agreed breathlessly, feeling his body already start to harden. 'I am. Most definitely.'

  'Well, in that case…' He laid her down on the grass among the fallen frangipani petals^ 'No gentleman would ever disoblige a lady.'

  It was much later when they Crept back through the house to her bedroom, and the next morning, when he went to leave her, Cordelia clung to him arid wouldn't let him go. 'Please stay with me,' she begged.

  'I have an appointment with the bank in Colombo,' he reminded her.

  'But you don't have to leave yet,' she coaxed. 'Just one more time.'

  'He laughed. 'Woman, you're insatiable!' But he lay back beside her.

  'Oh, Marcus, I love you. Is it wrong to want each other so much?'

  'Wrong? Of course not. My darling girl, you're one in a million. The kind a man dreams of all his life but only a few are lucky enough to find: beautiful, sexy and intelligent.'

  'Am I really sexy?"

  He looked at her in mock seriousness. 'Perhaps, madam, you would like me to demonstrate yet again just how sexy I find you?'

  'Oh, yes,' Cordelia agreed fervently. 'Yes, please!'

  When they finally woke, cramped together in the narrow bed, the sun was already high in the sky. Marcus groaned and looked at his watch. 'My God, look at the time! Where the hell are my clothes?' He found his trousers and pulled them on, then turned to kiss her.' 'Bye, darling, see you later. Lord, I wish I didn't have to go,' he added softly as he gazed down at her languorous eyes, her golden hair forming an aureole around her head.

  'Don't, then. Stay with me,' she murmured.

  'Jezebel! But I'll soon be back.' He kissed her again and Cordelia lifted his hand to her, breast. He caressed her with growing passion, then with an oath tore himself away and went into the bathroom to shower. She smiled and lay there contentedly, drifting off to sleep again after she heard his car drive away.

  She slept for another hour or so and woke feeling on top of the world, jumping out of bed and already counting the hours until Marcus would return. What would they do today? she wondered. Maybe they'd go to the famous botanical gardens in Kandy, a trip Marcus had promised her for some-time. But there were bound to be lots of people there and they wouldn't be able to make love for hours and hours, so maybe they wouldn't go there after all. Cordelia laughed happily and whistled a tune as she showered and washed her hair. Putting on a bathrobe, she went back to her bedroom—and stopped dead in her tracks. Sugin was in the room, standing by the bed.

  After a stunned moment, Cordelia burst out, 'What are you doing here? Get out of my room at once!'

  But the other girl didn't answer, just stared at her stonily, and then Cordelia saw that she was holding Marcus's shirt. It had a grass stain on it where they had made love in the garden last night; that, and the tumbled bed, told their own story.

  After a long moment in which Cordelia just looked at her helplessly, Sugin broke the silence by saving bitterly, 'So he is your lover. That's why he told me not to come here any more.'

  'I'm sorry,' Cordelia answered inadequately. 'But, you see, we love each other and…'

  Sugin's harsh laughter cut off her words. 'Love? You really think he loves you, you stupid English girl? He takes you only because you're easy, cheap. Because you will give yourself to any man who wants you.'

  'How dare you?' Cordelia demanded furiously. 'Get out of here. Do you hear
me? Get out of this house!'

  But Sugin faced her obstinately. 'You cannot order me to do what you want, English girl. You are not the mistress here and never will be.'

  'Not yet, maybe,' Cordelia retorted angrily. 'But when Marcus and I are married, I'll…'

  'Married?' Sugin laughed spitefully. 'Do you really think that he intends to marry you?'

  'Yes. Yes, I do,' Cordelia replied without hesitation, but rather taken aback by Sugin's vehement tone.

  Jeeringly the other girl went on, 'He will never marry you, English girl. How can he—when he already has a wife?'

  The room seemed to go suddenly cold and fade away around her so that Cordelia could see nothing but Sugin's spiteful, jeering face. 'I don't—I don't believe you,' she said dully.

  'No? Then I'll prove it to you. Come. She led the way into Marcus' bedroom, a room in which Cordelia herself had only been in to once or twice, and then only for a few moments while Marcus was there. Sugin went straight over to a small desk and opened the right-hand lower drawer, took out a bundle of letters and shoved them at Cordelia. 'See, the address on the back. From Mrs Annette Stone.'

  'They could be from his mother,' Cordelia said faintly. 'Or—or a sister-in-law.'

  'He has no mother. Or any brothers,' Sugin told her viciously. 'Don't you even know that about him yet? You still don't believe me? Come, I'll show you.' She took Cordelia's unresisting wrist in a rough grip that hurt and pulled her into the study. 'Look.' She went to an old unmarked box file that was lying on a bottom shelf and that Cordelia hadn't ever noticed before. Inside were some old notepads and a scrapbook of press cuttings and book reviews. Sugin quickly turned the pages of press cuttings and stopped at a photograph. 'There!' she said triumphantly.