White Tigress

by Jade Lee

"I do not have my freedom."

  "Neither do Chinese women." And with that he pushed her aside, stepping to the floor to tower over her, his voice curt. "I am done with this conversation. If you wish me to stimulate your yin, I will do that now."

  She glared at him, her lips pursed into a tight circle. "Would you keep an Immortal locked in?"

  "Of course not."

  She abruptly squared her shoulders. "Then I will become one, and you will be forced to release me."

  He sighed, the wind coming from the farthest reaches of his body. "Li Dee, why do you strive for something you cannot attain?"

  She pushed to her feet, her movement quick and abrupt. Standing before him, she did not reach much farther than his chin, and yet she faced him as if she were three times his size. "My name is Lydia! Lih-dee-ah. You always drop the A."

  He bowed slightly, giving her this tiny measure of control. "Very well, Lih Dee Ah."

  She stood there, her emotions warring upon her face. He saw fury, hatred, desperation, and an odd kind of hope slip through her mobile features. "I hate you!" she spat as her fists bunched uselessly at her sides.

  "I know," he answered softly. How different she was from the Chinese women he knew who went about covered in white makeup and a bland expression. Without the Confucian discipline the Chinese imposed from birth, Lydia had never learned to control the tides—the passions—that could so dominate a water person. And yet, he found he liked her this way. Happy or furious, she seemed more substantial than any woman he had yet met. Even Shi Po.

  And that thought shook his world.

  "You are not what I expected," he finally acknowledged. "And yet, I find myself most pleased with you."

  He reached out, touching her face in a tender caress. "Become an Immortal, Lydiah," he challenged. "Because I will never release you otherwise."

  The tigress first learns from her mother how to survive. She then has three paths on which to begin her hunt. No matter which path she walks, the Green Dragon is her prey. She gathers the essences of the Dragon and Tiger. When the essences fuse, the spirit embryo manifests and carries her to the Heavenly Abode, where Hsi Wang Hu happily bestows the Peach of Immortality upon her new daughter.

  —White tigress Manual

  ~

  Chapter 9

  Lydia trembled as Ru Shan's caress sent a trail of fire across her cheek, but she did not let it frighten her. She was becoming used to his touch. Indeed, she greatly feared she was beginning to crave it. Especially now, when the breast circles were finished and he readied himself to leave. Except, of course, this time he wasn't leaving.

  She straightened, steeling herself for the challenge. "What should I do to become an Immortal?"

  He smiled and she couldn't decide if he was mocking her or pleased with her determination. A little of both, she guessed. He clearly didn't think she could do it.

  "I will raise your yin to a great river—"

  "Which I direct into your yang, mixing them together," she finished for him. "I know that. But how exactly do I do that?"

  He paused, tilting his head slightly and staring. She hated when he did that. All the men she knew looked through her, as if they already knew what they would see and couldn't be bothered with actually looking. But not Ru Shan. He looked at her. He studied her. He tried to understand exactly what she was thinking and doing.

  She knew that was good. After all, the more he saw her as a person, the more likely she would be to gain her freedom. And yet, whenever he looked at her with such focused intensity, she felt as if he were stripping away not only the layers of her clothing—after all, she stood bare-breasted before him even now—but her skin as well.

  Did the Chinese have the ability to read minds? She didn't think so, and yet Ru Shan looked as if he were trying. Then he sighed, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

  "I don't know how to mix the yin and yang properly, Lydiah. If I did, I would already have achieved my goal."

  "But you have an idea."

  He shook his head. "I know what I do. I think what I wish to happen, and sometimes my body reflects my thoughts. And sometimes—"

  "It doesn't work at all." She took a deep breath. "Very well. I will direct my thoughts."

  He nodded, acknowledging her desire even though he thought it ridiculous. Better yet, he was willing to help her achieve it even though he thought it impossible. She couldn't help but compare such openness to Maxwell. Had her fiancé ever helped her do something he thought silly? She suspected not. And though she knew she was being disloyal, she had to acknowledge that in this respect, Ru Shan was the superior man.

  She was still gripped in the shock of that realization when Ru Shan spoke, effectively cutting off all other thoughts.

  "You must remove your pants."

  "What?"

  He raised a single eyebrow in irritation. "The yin source is at your breasts. But the river flows through your cinnabar cave. I must have access to that."

  "But...," she stammered. He couldn't possibly mean... "You said I would remain a virgin." Indeed, she had clung to that promise from the very beginning: that she might escape from Ru Shan with her purity intact. If he had lied... She swallowed. He was still larger than she; he could force the issue if he chose.

  "You will remain a virgin. I have no intention of placing my jade dragon inside you." He almost sounded repulsed at the thought, and she stiffened at the insult. Then his expression softened into an understanding smile. "I have expended enough yang tonight, Lydiah. I will not risk losing my seed again."

  She nodded, mollified. "But then..."

  He folded his arms across his chest, clearly impatient. "Do you wish to question, or do you wish to act? I can obtain all the yin I need from you simply from your breasts. But if you wish to pursue the path of the Immortals, then you must undress completely. It is your choice."

  She swallowed. They both already knew her choice, so without another word she began to slowly untie the cording that held up her peasant pants. But her hands were shaking, her fingers clumsy. He did not help her this time, as he usually did. He was making sure she chose this option, with no coercion from him. But still, it took all her will to untie the knot.

  This was the only way. The only way to escape. To gain her freedom. And so she released the cord and let the peasant pants slip to the floor. Then she stood before him, completely naked. She didn't even have the covering of her body hair as Fu De had instructed her to keep herself completely shaved.

  Ru Shan looked at her, his almond eyes darkening as he began to walk, stepping to her side to view her from all angles. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling awkward with his inspection, but startled to see his jade dragon rise even as he continued to stare.

  "What are you looking at?"

  He was eyeing her legs, his expression thoughtful. "Would you like me to tell you what I see in your body? As I've said, we Chinese believe that a person's body reveals his or her fortune. Would you like to know yours?"

  She didn't speak, her embarrassment making her throat tight. But she was able to nod, and he began to speak.

  "The body has three stations: the head, the torso, and the legs, starting from the waist. Yours are evenly proportioned, suggesting that you are flexible, able to achieve in both the physical and mental aspects of life. Your neck and your legs are long, but not too long, indicating you are a swan—meaning you could have great success but only if you make the right choices." He paused, lifting his gaze to look directly at her. "Your water encourages you to wash one way or another, but it is your intellect that must direct the flow. Never forget that."

  "I am a prisoner, Ru Shan. My intellect does not choose at all."

  His expression darkened as he glared at her. "Your intellect chooses a great deal, Lydiah. Or do you claim now to be simply an ignorant beast?"

  She felt her face heat with shame, and she looked away. "No. Of course not."

  He nodded. Returning his gaze to her lower body, he said, "Your waist is short and t
hin. Much better than when you first arrived into my care. This also indicates good balance and flexibility in all things." He sighed, stepping forward to touch her lower back. "It is your buttocks that show your downfall, Lydiah."

  He flattened his hand, letting it drift slowly over the curve of her bottom. She felt her muscles clench there, stronger after all her work with the stone dragon, and yet such intimacy did not frighten her as she expected. Instead, his caress felt admiring even as he criticized her shape.

  "Rounded, Lydiah. Rounded hips, rounded bottom mean you are both strong-minded and idealistic." He shook his head, even as he stepped behind her, bringing his other hand around to stroke and lift her bottom. "You do not want to see the world as it is, Lydiah, but as you wish it to be."

  Then to her shock, he pressed himself forward, his jade dragon a hard, hot ridge between her buttocks. He was still naked, seemingly at ease with his body in a way no Englishman was—to her knowledge, at least. And she actually jumped when she felt it pulse against her backside.

  "Soft, Lydiah," he whispered. "Soft and giving. Very pleasing to the jade dragon, but you cannot let your bottom rule your head." He sighed. "I do not think your mind will overcome the yin rush," he warned.

  "We'll see," she returned. But despite her bravado, she was well aware of her rapid pulse and the roaring of blood through her body. She had not meant to react to his jade dragon; it was merely an organ, nothing more. And yet, as it heated the crevice between her legs, she could not stop herself from pressing against it, from feeling the textures and pulse of his living flesh.

  It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and she wasn't sure she should enjoy it so much. And yet there it was—hot, hard, and so alive. Not more than an hour ago, she had touched it, stroked it, sucked on it! Indeed, she had done things to it she could never imagine doing to anyone else. Not even Maxwell. And yet this feeling, this presence between her buttocks, was so different. So intriguing.

  Perhaps he was right. Perhaps her bottom was stronger than her mind. And then, before she could pull away, Ru Shan reached around her, effectively trapping her with his arms. He began to circle her breasts again, pulling her upper body back against him while simultaneously pushing his jade dragon forward. Not piercing between her legs, thank God, but longwise against her, as if he too enjoyed just feeling her.

  "I will begin with your breasts, Lydiah. Imagine the yin flow swelling, growing behind your nipples."

  She did. Indeed, that was what always happened when he rubbed her breasts; and he had been priming them for a while now, so that when he began tugging on her nipples, the tingling cord was already there, pulling from his fingertips, through her body, all the way to deep within her belly. Then he was speaking again, his voice a low murmur behind her right ear, a deep sound that echoed in the yin flow throughout her.

  "Give yourself up to these sensations. We are merely beginning, Lydiah. You do not need to control the flow yet."

  She nodded her assent and did as he bade, relaxing as never before into the sensations of his hands upon her breasts, the swelling crest of each breast turning molten, as if she were melting inside into a bright liquid line straight to her womb.

  "Your yin water is beginning to flow. Do you not feel it?"

  She frowned, unsure what he meant. He demonstrated as if she had voiced her confusion aloud. Instead of upward from her belly to her nipples, this time his hands flowed downward. From the peak of her tightened nipples, he opened his hands, pulling down until he cupped each breast. Then his fingers continued to flow down, over her ribs, tucking close to her waist before flaring again over the jut of each hip bone. He had done as much many times before, only in the opposite direction, but this time his fingers continued questing lower, into the valley above each leg. That naturally pulled each of his hands closer together and he extended deeper, his fingers fluttering over her shaven mound and then deeper still.

  She squeaked in alarm, but he did not release her. Indeed, as she began to struggle, he held her tighter.

  "Trust me, Lydiah," he whispered. And then the fingers of his right hand pushed deep between her legs.

  She had no name for what he touched, but she felt his long finger in a kind of superawareness. The movements were excruciatingly slow, and she held her breath as she felt him wiggle slightly, slipping deeper into the places no one had ever touched.

  His hold slackened, his attention clearly diverted to what he was touching. She knew she could surprise him now and break his restraining grip. But she didn't want to. As alien as his finger felt, it also felt hot and silky. And when he touched a certain point, a special point, her body shivered in the most amazing way. It began right where he was and expanded swiftly outward, simultaneously moving down to her toes and up past her breasts, all the way up into her mind. But oddly enough, the shiver did not leave her feeling more relaxed, just more tense. More curious. More... Just more.

  It made no sense, but such were her thoughts as his finger continued to delve deeper.

  "Do you feel the wetness here? That is your yin rain as it begins to flow."

  Yes, she felt the wetness. But more she felt his fingers, still there, still probing. He was still touching, and so she relaxed her legs, letting them slip farther apart. Letting him touch more.

  But he didn't. Instead, he withdrew his hands, stepping away from behind her. She shifted, shocked and confused. "Is that all there is?" she asked. It couldn't be possible. There had to be more.

  "There is much more," he answered, his voice a deep rumble. "But we cannot do this standing. All your concentration will be on what you must do and all my concentration will be on stimulating your yin flow. You must lie down. On your back."

  She did as he directed, feeling the heat fading slightly even as the anticipation built. But Ru Shan did not seem concerned. He took his time, gently placing a pillow behind her back lengthwise so it slid between her shoulder blades.

  "You will want your head to tilt lower than your buttocks to encourage the yin flow to your head," he explained.

  She nodded, lying carefully backward only to lift back up when he did not sit beside her as before. This time he crossed to the bottom of her bed, gently raising and stroking her calves as he separated her legs.

  She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she could not. Her throat was too closed, her embarrassment high as her captor knelt between her legs. She was completely exposed to him, her—what had he called it?—her cinnabar cave open as never before.

  And then, to her shock, he continued lifting her right leg higher and higher to rest upon his shoulder. "This is called the Horse Shaking his Hoof position. I will be able to judge the flow of your yin by the movements of your left leg. But this one," he added as he once again stroked her right leg, "can rest upon my shoulder or back." He suddenly smiled, his face brightening with a rare mischievousness. "You will probably hit my back with your heel. Do not worry that you will hurt me. I am very strong."

  She didn't know how to respond. She had never seen him look so boyish before.

  "Many dragons don't enjoy this part as much. They prefer to work on their own immortality. But I take great pleasure in a woman's yin river." He tilted his head, a moment of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "Many people say the ghost women do not enjoy their yin flow. I hope they are wrong."

  Lydia nodded because he expected her to. In truth, she didn't know how to react. This was all so strange. And yet, even though the tingling had faded the moment Ru Shan pulled away from her, she felt a burgeoning sense of daring. Whatever would come now, Lydia actively sought it, could not wait for it to begin, even as her skin flushed a hot red of lingering embarrassment.

  "I will begin gently," he said, "with soft strokes and massage to heat the water." And then he fitted action to his words.

  His hands stroked the inside of her thighs, flowing smoothly upward toward the opening of her cinnabar cave. The yin heat returned in a rush, and she discovered she was impatient with his slow
strokes, anxious for him to approach closer as he had before. Would he never touch her cinnabar cave?

  But then he did. Just as with her breasts, he traced the outside of her cave with each thumb, moving slowly from back to front. Without thinking, she arched into his hands, pushing for him to go deeper or closer or something. In truth, she didn't know what she wanted, only that she did.

  But he would not be rushed. His thumbs connected, but too high, above the spot she wanted. And then he reversed direction, moving back the way he had come.

  "Ru Shan," she murmured, not even knowing why.

  "Patience, Lydiah. You must do this slowly. Focus on moving your breath. It helps the yin flow."

  She nodded, trusting him. And so she closed her eyes, relaxing her body, doing her best to keep her heartbeat steady and her breath even. But there was no controlling this. There was only his touch and the fire it produced. And still he continued to circle her cinnabar cave, flowing up—too high—and flowing down—too shallow.

  "It is not enough," she gasped, only now realizing that she had arched again, seeking his fingers. She used her legs as well, drawing him closer with her upraised leg and wrapping the lower one about his waist.

  "The river is stronger now. It will rush upon you soon, Lydiah. Be ready to direct it."

  She nodded, trying to hold her focus, not even sure for what. And then he began pushing into her cave. Not deeply. Just in and out, in and out, with both thumbs. And she felt each press, each slide of his fingers like the breath of a great bellows stoking the heat inside her. The yin river was strong now, like hot lava flooding her body, invading her blood. Perhaps it was her blood as it rushed about inside her, seeking an outlet.

  "Your rain is most sweet, Lydiah. And it flows so easily." She heard awe in his voice, even a kind of reverence, but it wasn't enough. She squirmed beneath him, barely registering that he had shifted positions. Where before he had knelt between her legs, now he lay down, placing his face closer to her cave.

  "What..." She meant to ask what he was doing, what would come next, but she had no breath, and so she simply closed her eyes, giving herself up to the yin.