“I told you yesterday, my lord, that I do not believe in love. It does not exist. But I am also now informed that for the Shadow Princes love is paramount. If you know that I will break your heart, then it is best you not fall in love with me,” Lara advised him.
“Love is not a logical emotion. It will not obey the science of reason,” Kaliq told her. “That is the first thing you must learn, Lara. Love happens. There is no rationale for it. You cannot control it, or the passions it arouses.”
She was seated before him on his stallion. One arm held her gently but firmly against him. He wore white silk trousers, and an open-necked white silk shirt. About his waist a black sash was wrapped, and his boots were black leather. She found her cheek resting against his bare chest. His skin was smooth, warm, fragrant. “I don’t understand,” Lara told him. “You speak in riddles.”
“It is because you don’t understand that I have come for you today,” he said. “Someone as beautiful as you are, Lara, should not be ignorant of the pleasures of love. What happened to you in the Forest that you encased your heart in ice?”
“I am told daughters born of faerie women have the same cold hearts as their mothers,” Lara said.
“Only if they choose to,” he responded.
“What can you know of faeries, my lord? You are not one, are you?”
“Nay, I am a Shadow Prince, but I had an ancestress who was a Peri. Faerie blood runs in my veins, thought not to the extent that it does in yours, Lara. Now tell me of the Forest, and why you enclosed your heart in an icy cold. We shall not cease riding until I have learned all.”
“Surely we are almost there,” Lara said.
“We will not be there until I have learned what I need to know of you,” the prince said in a stern voice. “Tell me.”
Lara looked up into the handsome face, and began to speak. “The trader swore I was meant for a Coastal King in order to protect me from the Forest Lords. But they offered him far more than he had hoped to obtain for me. He was afraid it was a ruse, and so I advised him to accept their offer but refuse to make the trade until we were at the borders separating the Desert and the Forest. They were not pleased, but they agreed. And so it was done. I later learned it was my faerie heritage that fascinated them. They wanted to get a child on me to ease or even erase a curse placed on them by Maeve, the queen of the Forest Faeries. They thought a faerie child born of my loins and their seed would soften her heart against them. Of course it was madness on their part.”
“Why did they want a child with faerie blood? The Forest Lords do not mix their blood with that of outsiders,” Kaliq said.
“Yesterday I said it was Og’s tale to tell, but I realize now it is mine, too,” Lara told him, and so she did, beginning with the murder of Maeve’s faerie kinswoman and ending with the slaughter of all the Forest giants, but for Og. “The giants knew the Foresters’ shameful secret,” Lara continued. “Maeve’s curse had made it impossible for them to breed children upon their own women. Stealthily they mated with outsiders, giving those children to their wives, who claimed them as their own. And with each new generation born, the blood of the Forest Lords grew thinner and thinner.
“The Foresters allowed Og to live because they believed he didn’t know their secret,” she said, “but he did, for giant memory is passed on in the womb. He was trained to serve as his people had served.”
“The Forest giants were known for their gentle natures, and kind hearts,” Kaliq said softly. “They would not have known how to fight back against the Foresters.”
“If not for Og I should not have escaped, and would soon be dead,” Lara replied. “He knew what I did not. That no woman with faerie blood will give a child to a man she does not love, or at least desires, and when he told me I was terrified. Both the Head Forester and his younger brother were pumping their seed into me several times daily. They were beginning to become suspicious as to why my belly was not growing with a child of theirs. They didn’t care which one of them fathered the child on me, but they wanted that child, whom they believed would be their salvation.”
“Were you a virgin when you came to them?” he asked her.
Lara nodded. “That was the other reason I was so expensive.”
“And when their bodies joined with yours what did you feel?” he asked her.
“My body had begun to respond to the younger brother, Enda, but I hated them both,” Lara told him. “When the Head Forester would lie with me, I would slip away into the deep recesses of my mind. It was easier then to bear him.”
Prince Kaliq’s eyes filled with tears at her recitation. “That you should have suffered so, my beautiful Lara,” he said, his voice choking. “Please, I beg of you, let me show you what true passion between two friends can be like. I will not lie to you. I do desire your body, but only because it is such a beautiful body, and should be loved as only I can love it.” He bent and brushed his lips against her mouth.
“You seek me for your pleasure,” Lara said low.
“I seek to give you pleasure!” he corrected her. “Those cloddish Forest creatures know naught of pleasuring a woman of any ilk. They know only how to grunt and sweat over a woman’s body. They think nothing of the woman. She is a vessel to them in which they hope to grow their seed.” His blue eyes were stormy with his angry words. “You are meant to love and be loved.”
“And what am I to you, my lord prince?” Lara asked quietly.
“A comely woman to be admired, caressed and utterly adored,” he told her. “I would worship at the shrine of your beauty, Lara,” the prince said fervently.
“You want no child of mine then?” she asked him.
“No,” he told her quietly. “I want only you, and the pleasure we can give each other, Lara. Nothing else, I swear!”
They were suddenly at the entrance to the hallway of the palace. The stallion stopped, and a servant lifted Lara down from the saddle as the prince leapt down behind her. Taking her hand in his, he led her into the beautiful corridor she had previously been in the day before.
“Will you trust me to teach you the joys of passion?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said simply. His words had intrigued her. Was there more to two bodies uniting than just grunting and straining? “I am curious as to whether what you hint at is real, or merely a belief you refuse to give up.”
He laughed. “You will soon see, Lara. You will soon see, but first we shall watch my favorite stallion choose his mares and mate with them.”
“Did that not happen yesterday?” she asked him.
“I would not allow it without you,” he told her.
“I am not suitably garbed to be seen publicly on your balustrade, my lord,” she told him.
“There is time to prepare you,” he told her. “Come! You must be bathed. You have, I fear, the scent of the village goats on your skin, and in your hair. Hair like yours should not even hint of goat.” He led her quickly from the main corridor down a narrow hallway at the end of which was a great wooden door.
Outside the door a guard stood. Seeing the prince and Lara he turned sharply and flung open the portal so that at no time did they slow their pace. A serving woman hurried forward to greet them, bowing obsequiously to the prince. Without even being told she took Lara’s all-enveloping garments from her. Beneath, Lara was wearing a sleeveless round necked gown of a natural colored linen she had recently made for herself. She slipped from her sandals.
The serving woman next undid the ribbons at Lara’s shoulders, and her gown fell to the floor. She stepped from it not in the least embarrassed by her nudity.
“You are even lovelier than I had anticipated,” Kaliq told her, shedding his own clothing. While every bit as tall as the Foresters she had known, he was far more slender, Lara saw. His skin where the sun touched it was like bronze-colored satin, but where the sun could not reach it was like golden cream. She thought him beautiful, and smiling, told him so.
“Then we are well matched,” he repl
ied, “but I knew it the moment I saw you at the oasis. Come now, and let me wash you.” He led her into the bath where there were several smooth depressions in the marble floor against a wall. Water fell from curved spouts in that wall. Placing her in one of the hollows the prince took up a sponge laden with soft soap, and began to wash Lara.
“I can wash myself,” she protested softly.
“But is this not much nicer?” he said. The sponge moved over her chest, neck and shoulders. Then it was swept over her breasts with great care, and down her torso. Kneeling, he washed her thighs, legs and feet then, turning her about, sponged her buttocks, stood up and did all of her back. He set her firmly beneath the curved spout and rinsed the foamy soap from her skin. Finally drawing her from beneath the water, he announced, “I will now wash your lovely hair.” And to her surprise he did. When he had finished, he wrung out the long tresses and pinned them wet atop her head, giving her a hard kiss as he did so. His hand went to her pubic mound, fingering the golden curls.
“I have been denuded there before, but in the Forest there were no such niceties. How would you have me, my lord prince?” Lara asked him.
“Your curls are charming, but I prefer a woman’s body to be smooth and free of hair but for her head,” he told her. “I will go and wash myself. The alabaster jar has what you will need, and the bath attendant will help you. When you are finished we will dress. There is no time for massage now, but later I will caress your body with scented cream.”
The bath attendant came, and there was nothing for Lara to do but stand patiently as the woman smoothed the thick paste over her legs, mons and beneath her arms. Within minutes she was being rinsed free of her superfluous hair. She stepped from the basin, and Kaliq was there, wrapping her in a towel.
“Come, we must dry your hair,” he said, and seated her upon a marble bench. With another towel he rubbed all the water from her hair, and then began to brush it with expert strokes. “I love your hair!” he said. “It is like the finest thistledown. Only Forest Faeries have such hair. What was your mother’s name?”
“Ilona,” Lara answered. She could get used to being bathed and brushed by this handsome man. And to her surprise, at no time had he made suggestive remarks, or touched her in a sensual manner. Nor had the sight of her even aroused his manhood, a slender length of flesh she had discreetly noted.
“Then you are, I believe, Maeve’s granddaughter, for Maeve had a daughter named Ilona. She was a rebellious girl for a time, but now I understand she remains by her mother’s side, for Maeve is very old and reaching the point where she will fade away into the next world,” Prince Kaliq said. “Ilona will be the next queen of the faeries, my beauty.”
“Did you know my mother?” Lara asked him.
“Only by reputation,” he answered her.
“How old are you?” she queried, suddenly curious.
He laughed. “I am older than you, of course, but I am yet young enough to be your lover, and teach you of passion, delight and desire,” Kaliq responded. He began to plait several strands of her long gilt hair, but left most of it hanging free. When he had finished he stood up. “Come, it is time for us to dress so we may view the matings between my stallion and the mares.”
Silent servants brought them comfortable white silk kaftans with the necklines embroidered in gold threads. Golden sandals were provided for their feet. When they were garbed he took her hand, leading her from the baths down the narrow hallway again and back into the wide open corridor overlooking the green valley where the large herd of mares grazed peacefully in the sunlight. There were horses of every color—black, white, gray, chestnut, bay, dun, sorrel and roan.
Prince Kaliq lifted a hand, and almost immediately a great white stallion was released into the valley. Snorting proudly, his coal-black mane and tail flying, he dashed among the mares who scattered, panic-stricken. The first mare he separated from the herd was a dainty black. She stood trembling as the stallion covered her with his large body, nuzzling at her neck and breathing heavily. When he had finished with her, servants raced out to capture the mare and lead her away.
The stallion seemed tireless. He cut one gray, two white and three chestnut mares from the herd, mounting each as he had the black mare, filling them with his foaming seed. But he was not yet satisfied. He circled the herd again and again, looking, seeking, and then Lara saw the delicately built golden mare. The stallion saw her, too. He stopped, rearing up on his hind legs as he made quick eye contact with the mare. He began to move toward her, ignoring the other mares in his desire to reach her.
The golden mare saw him coming and, turning, fled the white stallion, but he quickly caught up with her, pushing her with his velvety muzzle into a corner of the greensward, screaming with triumph as he mounted her. They could see the stallion’s great penis as he slowly pushed it into the mare. Lara was not even certain if she was breathing at that point. Then the prince’s arm slipped about her waist, his breath soft on her skin. She could feel the slim length of his body pressing against her slender frame. He nuzzled at her pale hair, and to her surprise Lara felt a stab of pure desire in her vitals.
“It is exciting to watch, isn’t it?” His breath was hot in her ear.
“Yes,” she murmured, surprised that she could talk at all. She was trembling. “I could never have imagined anything like it.” Her legs felt weak, and instinctively she leaned back against him, concentrating on the golden mare now being led away as, bored, the stallion began to graze in the green grass.
He kissed the soft nape of her neck. He could sense her confusion, yet he could also feel her resistance beginning to ease. He pressed his advantage, for this first time their mating must be swift lest she grow wary again. There would be time for the slow, drawn-out pleasure of passion that he well knew how to give. But this first time he must show her that the coming together of a man and a woman was sweet and tender, not hard and cruel. “I shall be the white stallion to your golden mare, Lara,” he told her. “Did you not find the mating between those two symbolic?” His hand undid the neckline of her kaftan, baring her two breasts, and he began to fondle them gently. “A woman’s body is to be treated with tenderness, and worshipped,” he told her low.
“The Forest Lords thought of a woman’s body only as a vessel,” she replied.
“I saw the bruises on you, Lara. Tell me they did not beat you,” he said.
“Nay, they treated me as well as they knew how to treat a woman, for they sought a faerie child of me. But their manner was rough, as I have said.” His hands on her were unlike anything she had ever known. She sighed, realizing that she was actually enjoying his touch, watching as her nipples hardened when he teased them.
He smiled as he sensed her reaction to his hands. She had the loveliest breasts. They were like small summer fruits, round and perfect, but not yet quite ripe. He caressed them, one in each hand now. His lips brushed the graceful curve of her neck, nuzzling her long hair aside, moving down to the soft curve of her shoulder. Her head fell back against him, and her green eyes were closed. She sighed again, this time more deeply.
“You are not sickened then?” he asked her.
She shook her head in the negative. “I like it,” Lara told him. “Is it always like this, my lord prince?”
“I will try to make it so, especially as you have had such a bad experience with the Foresters,” he told her. Then his hands fell away from her breasts, and he turned her about to face him. His lips began to kiss her—first her mouth, which he explored tenderly with his tongue, then her face and her eyelids.
Their bodies were touching. Her breasts against his smooth chest, her belly and legs pressed to his warm flesh. His arms wrapped about her, holding her as close as he could. She could feel his manroot stirring and swelling as his desire increased, but instead of being repelled, more than anything Lara wanted her body joined to this man’s. And she knew he waited for her to tell him so. “Yes!” she whispered against his mouth.
He dre
w her down to the floor, and to her surprise there was a soft silken mattress beneath them. He turned her onto her stomach. “I want to mount you like my stallion did,” he groaned. “Raise your buttocks up for me, Lara, my love.” And when she did he covered her as his stallion had covered the little golden mare, his manroot finding her silken passage and sliding into it. “Remember the beast,” he murmured in her ear. “Remember his size, and feel me growing within you. I am the white stallion, and you are the sweet golden mare he desires.” He thrust hard.
Lara cried out, but it was not with fear. His words excited her. She actually could feel him swelling within her, and imagined the stallion’s length and power as he had taken the mare. She was the mare, and the stallion was driving himself within her body with a fierce rhythm. She could feel her own heart beating wildly as she realized that she wanted this man. Truly wanted him. She could hardly breathe with her own excitement. She wanted him to go on forever. “Oh, my lord!” she finally managed to cry out.
His teeth sunk into her neck. His haunches contracted and expanded with his efforts. He allowed the magic in his veins to guide his manroot as he pleasured the girl beneath him, and gained from her the most incredible pleasure he had ever known. He groaned, knowing it must end soon, but not wanting it to, until Lara cried out again, and he recognized the sound as a woman about to reach the apex of her pleasure.
Her head was swirling. There were bursts of color behind her closed eyelids. Within her she felt what she had never experienced before. A tightening, a quickening, a wild burst of tremors that shook her to her very core. She sobbed his name once. “Kaliq!” She felt his juices flooding her, and then Lara fainted with the emotions he had aroused within her.
When she finally opened her eyes several minutes later, she was lying on her back. She raised herself on one elbow. He lay next to her, his eyes closed. They were in the middle of the wide corridor on the mattress that had so mysteriously been there for them. “What will your servants think?” Lara said softly.
Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar Page 22