***
"You will follow me as a servant," Salime commanded Diana while they waited in the coach parked in the mews behind DeVere House.
Mustafa promptly returned with a message of welcome. "Effendi will receive you in the hammam."
Salime gave a nod of approval, and then she and Diana descended. Entering the house through the servants' quarter, they proceeded through several passages that terminated in the back of the domicile where a separate, small building with a domed roof had been added on. "It is constructed just as those in my homeland," Salime remarked.
Crossing the threshold through the arched doorway, Diana was first struck by the heat and humidity, but then taking in the chamber from its intricately tiled floor to the domed ceiling, she felt as if she had been transported to another time and place. The interior floor and walls were comprised of vibrant mosaics. A gurgling fountain sat at one end, and a raised table constructed of marble commanded the room's center.
"There are three chambers, Khanum, interconnected rooms. This is the sıcaklık, a hot room containing the marble slab for massage; the second is the warm room for washing, and the soğukluk is the cool room for bathing," Salime explained. "The other rooms lie beyond and connect to Effendi's private apartments."
Diana was once more struck with a pang at Salime's intimate knowledge of DeVere's domicile and habits. A moment later, the door to the adjacent room opened to reveal the devil himself. Barefoot and garbed in a silk banyan, DeVere entered. Salime rushed forward to kneel at his feet. Diana reluctantly followed suit.
"I was not expecting you, Salime." His voice held a hint of disapproval.
"But it has been much time since you sent for me, Effendi."
"I have been away."
"But now you are returned." Salime smiled. "I beg you will indulge me, as I have acquired an odalisque to train."
"Have you, indeed?" DeVere narrowed his sharp blue gaze at Diana, who with head and face covered, was quick to downcast her eyes.
"Yes, Effendi. I will leave here one day soon and have promised Madam Hayes I would teach another the ways."
"And you wish to use me for her instruction?"
"It is best, Effendi, for you know the customs of the East. You do not mind?"
"I don't recall ever having objected to placing my body in a woman's hands before." DeVere laughed and then fixed his gaze upon Diana. "May I know her name?"
"Didem," Salime was quick to answer. "She has little English, Effendi."
"Ah, then it is a good thing I know her tongue."
Diana slanted Salime a panicked look, but DeVere said no more. His good humor seemingly restored, he dropped his robe and sauntered nude to the marble table. He moved without the least appearance of self-consciousness, with a confident and athletic grace that made Diana's throat dry despite the damp. She watched as Salime laid down a large towel for him to lie upon and rolled another for the purpose of resting his head before he lay facedown on the slab.
A light sheen of moisture already coated his skin, drawing her attention to the sculpted lines of muscle and sinew of his legs, back, and taut buttocks, truly a sight worthy of feminine worship. She didn't know if the weakness in her knees was more from the heat or the sight of DeVere in his natural glory; either way, the humid room and his nakedness had begun to take its toll.
Diana followed Salime to the small fountain and lifted her veil to briskly splash cool water on her face to relieve the heated flush, while the other woman discarded slippers, bracelets, girdle and tunic, leaving only her light linen shift and trousers. Salime then retrieved a rough, woven mitt, a bar of soap, and a basin of water. She handed the bottle of almond oil to Diana.
"He will lie thus for a time until his body is warm and relaxed," Salime explained in a low voice. "Then we massage and wash him as he desires. I shall begin, and you will follow, doing as I do."
Diana cast a faltering gaze to the object of her forthcoming ministrations, wondering if she had the nerve to follow through after all.
"If you allow yourself, Khanum, you will discover you enjoy this almost as much as he, and if you please him well, perhaps Effendi may reciprocate."
That thought, of his hot hands coated with oil, smoothing over every inch of her naked body, was nearly Diana's undoing.
***
Ludovic had at first been annoyed that Salime appeared without invitation, but it didn't take him long to deduce who the second veiled figure was, for he would recognize Diana's form and movement anywhere. Had this been her purpose in delaying their tryst? Had she actually sought out Salime? It appeared so. And now she was in his bath to serve him. His lips curved into a smile. How very intriguing, indeed. Although he had yet to comprehend her stratagem, he was resolved to play along.
Heated by a furnace under the floor, the stone in the room permeated warmth that transferred into his body as he lay on the table. He heard the swish of dampened silk as Salime and Diana approached. They began by massaging his feet and legs, the kneading and rubbing sending random sparks of sensation straight to his cock. Although he normally enjoyed the traditional Turkish massage and often eschewed the more personal attention to his genitals—unless he was in particular need of sexual release—this time, he was already tumescent with anticipation. He shifted his hips to relieve the pressure.
"Your odalisque has good hands, Salime. Perhaps Didem would benefit from solo practice. What do you say?" He had to suppress a chuckle when the second pair of hands paused in their ministrations.
"As you wish, Effendi," Salime answered. "Do you wish me to stay?"
"I don't think it necessary. I am certain I can manage to guide her."
"Very well, Effendi. Please know you need only send for me if Didem in any way fails to please you."
He rose on one elbow to consider the veiled figure. "I think that all depends on how badly Didem desires to please." Diana glanced up at him for only the briefest second, but the flash of fire in her moss-green eyes was unmistakable.
"She shall be beaten well if she fails, Effendi," Salime warned and then gathered up her things and departed.
Ludovic remained propped on his side, studying Diana, his arousal clearly evident to both of them.
"You lie down now?" she prompted in a low voice.
"I think we are quite finished with my posterior," he said, slowly rolling onto his back, and sprawling like a king. Knowing she gaped, he closed his eyes with a smile, allowing her to look her fill. She moved to his feet, but the hands that touched him trembled slightly. "It is too warm in here for all your clothing, Didem. I think it best you remove some of it, don't you?"
"As you wish, Effendi," came a muffled reply.
He cracked an eye open to watch her remove girdle and tunic.
"The trousers as well, Didem."
She hesitated.
"You wish to please me, do you not?" He noted her furrowing brows, yet she removed the trousers. He also observed with satisfaction that she wore no stays, which allowed the thin linen to cling damply to her voluptuous curves, curves made for a man's pleasure. She returned to him wearing only her shift and veils, again keeping her eyes downcast as she went to work.
He shut his own again to better appreciate the feel of her hands, luxuriating in the sensation of warm oil poured and massaged into his skin. The trembling of her fingers had ceased as she plied them with firm deliberation up his thighs, squeezing and molding the muscles, moving ever closer to his rampantly aroused kamış. Her nimble digits slid to his inner thighs, upward to skirt his testis, but she left him wanting, his yen for her touch unsatisfied. He groaned in disappointed anticipation. He cracked his eyes open in time to see her gaze flick over his face. So that's how the game begins, eh?
She worked his pubic bone, driving him mad with the circular motions of her palms, stimulating circulation above a cock that was already fully engorged and throbbing with the need to spend. He wanted to shout for her to take him in hand and pump him madly. Breathe deeply, DeVere. Don't l
et her know the effect this is having on you. You can't afford to give her any more advantage than she already has. He ground his teeth in the effort, but then she mercifully moved on to his abdomen and chest. Her lush, full breasts moved freely. He could make out the hint of dusky nipple that teased his flesh as she reached across his body. He restrained the urge to grasp one of those magnificent mounds by clenching his fists by his sides.
She was close enough that he could smell the salty tang of perspiration mixed with attar of damask rose, the scent Diana most favored. His nostrils flared in an effort to breathe her into his lungs, only to have a third component jolt his olfactory senses—feminine desire. He was not mistaken; she was becoming as aroused as he. But it was not enough to smell it. He wanted to see it—the passion in her eyes, the telling pink flush on her skin. With every nerve fiber in his body ignited, he could no longer control his breathing. The slow, deep respirations became erratic and ragged as she moved down his body, sneaking knowing glances through the slit in her veil. She knows damned well what she is about!
Her gaze fixed on his face, she poured more oil in her palm and with agonizing languor, wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, squeezing and pulling upward with warm, slick motions. She repeated the task with her opposite hand, and his mind blurred from the sheer bliss of sensation. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back with a groan, giving himself up to the pleasure of her decadently dexterous and deliberate ministrations—by turns, milking and massaging his shaft, the bulbous head of his cock, and his bollocks until he thought he would explode. He was hard as stone, full to overflowing with his own essence, and ready to spend with violence when she arrested her attention to his shaft and slid her fingers to the sensitive spot behind his sac. A moment of pressure and the urgency of his need eased off. How the devil did she learn this? He was almost afraid to know.
When she returned her attention to his jutting rod, he closed his hand tightly about her wrist. "You will remove your veils now, Didem," he commanded.
"Please, no, Effendi," she answered.
"But I wish to see your face when you pleasure me."
"But I must not."
"Must not show your face? Or must not finish what you started? For I believe that was our bargain...Diana."
***
He knew! The bastard knew all along! "How?" She gasped, pulling from his grasp to rip off the veils. "How did you know it was me?"
"Your carriage, your form...your scent," he answered. "They are all imprinted upon my brain. I would know you among a hundred women, Diana. Every time."
His unexpected answer took her breath away, but she was quick to recompose. She refused to let him rattle her. "Then why did you allow me to proceed?" she demanded.
"Because inhibitions are greatly lessened when one is incognito. I wanted you to be relaxed and unreserved. I also wanted to see how bold you would become, how far you would take this little game of subterfuge with no urging from me. I confess you surprise me. Greatly."
"Do I?" She couldn't help a sly smile. "I told you I would come to you when I was ready."
"You are more than ready, my dear." His eyes narrowed. "Might I ask how you came by this knowledge? How are you acquainted with Salime?"
"She first came to me, my lord. It seems she harbors an inordinate amount of affection for you."
"She merely feels a strong sense of obligation for her manumission. It is not unusual."
"It's more than that. Can't you see? She's in love with you, Ludovic."
"Then she mistakes her feelings," he said dismissively and sat up.
"You are wrong," Diana protested. "And if you cannot reciprocate, you should not encourage her. It is cruel." I know well the agony of unrequited feeling.
"I do not encourage her," he insisted. "Salime is not, nor has she ever been, my lover. Not in the true sense."
"No?" Diana laughed her skepticism. "Then what do you call all this?" She gestured to the hammam.
"You do not understand how it is in the East, Diana. She is merely a servant. She attends me here because she has the skills to do so, but I have never asked her for sexual gratification."
"Yet you have received it at her hand?" she accused.
"Yes. Upon occasion. And she has been very well compensated."
"And you do not call her your lover?"
"Absolutely not. For I have never encouraged her nor reciprocated in kind. Do you not understand the difference, Diana? I am no martyr. I have physical needs that I refuse to deny, but I have not shared my bed with any other woman since you. I have not spilled my seed inside any other woman's body."
Once more, Diana was shocked to silence. "You really expect me to believe that?" she asked when she found her tongue.
"Why should I lie? I have no need to do so. You are already here, and if you intend to uphold your word, you are mine, regardless. I still desire you, Diana, above any other woman. It's beyond my comprehension. I travelled extensively, hoping to find an end to this restlessness that incessantly plagues me, but to no avail. I wonder now if it was really you I needed all along. The only peace I have ever experienced was briefly, evanescently, with you. And now that you are here, I intend to lie with you and fuck you senseless day and night in countless ways, until you are either purged from my system completely or branded on my very soul."
***
He didn't know where it had come from. He had never spoken of private needs to anyone. Part of him was horrified, as if he suddenly and uncontrollably sputtered nonsense, but the words were out and not to be taken back.
He studied her for what seemed an endless beat, his chest painfully contracting as he watched her face, her green eyes wide with hope, apprehension, and then doubt. It was clear she didn't trust him, but he had said all there was to say. The rest was only to be proven by deed.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "I thought we had a simple bargain. I would come to you and gratify you physically. I have come. I am willing to do as you wish. Why do play with my emotions like this?"
"Do I?" he asked innocently.
"Yes! You can never leave well enough alone. You must always be the master manipulator, Ludovic, the ultimate puppeteer, making everyone dance to your tune. It's all about you, isn't it? But I refuse to dance this time. You can take me all you like and in as many ways as you please, but just know this, when this time is over, it's over. Whether purged or branded, I will leave you and never look back."
***
"All I like and in as many ways as I please?" he repeated. "You make me an offer I cannot refuse. But contrary to your belief, this is not all about me, Diana. No, it's very much about you; for I can and will give you mindless, bone-melting, heart-sundering pleasure. And if after that, you find you can still walk away or that you can still walk at all"—he paused with a smirk—"so be it."
He reached for the neckline of her shift. "As I said before, you wear far too many clothes." A simple tug released the fabric. He lowered it by inches, first revealing her creamy white shoulders. He skirted his knuckles along her exposed skin, watching gooseflesh form in their wake. "You cannot claim to be cold this time, my dear." He lowered the garment to her elbows, trapped her lower arms in her sleeves, confining them to her sides. He captured her breast with his mouth, nipping and sucking on her tender, white flesh, feasting as if ravenous.
Though he thought she would fight it for as long as she could, Diana surprised him by arching in to him, wordlessly urging him to take more. He pulled a distended nipple into his mouth, biting lightly and then suckling hard until she cried out. A chuckle grew in his chest and erupted from his lungs. He drew back from her breast to slide her shift off to pool on the floor and then worked his mouth up her neck, murmuring hotly against her skin until he reached the hollow of her ear. "There's no point in denying yourself the pleasure now, is there?"
"No. None at all." She breathed on a sigh that he captured with his mouth. They played a breath-stealing game at first, but as their lips melde
d and tongues collided in that first tentative touch, the urgency flared. Moaning and clutching each other, their tongues tangled, gliding and sliding, growing in intensity to the rhythmic thrusting simulation of sex. He cupped her buttocks, drawing her closer. Their heated bodies, already slick with sweat, pressed together, his swollen shaft sliding deliciously against her hot, moist mons.
"Is there more you wished to show me?" he asked, sliding a hand between her legs and biting her shoulder.
"There was much more." She moaned. "We did not finish your massage. Six times I am told to withhold your boşalma to bring you a rapturous release. That was only one, Effendi."
"You wish to bring me to brink again, Diana? To torment me with pleasure? Then it's good we have time, isn't it? For there are many things I yet wish to do to you." He tongued down her neck back toward her breasts. "But if it is your desire to torture me, you possess the most devastating of devices for that purpose."
"Oh?" She lifted a brow.
"God, yes." He groaned and plied open-mouthed kisses to the tops of her breasts. "Since the first moment I laid eyes on you four years ago, I have fantasized about one exquisite torture."
"And what is that?" she asked.
"This." He took the weight of her voluptuous mounds in each hand and molded them tightly together. "I have dreamed of sliding my kamış in this lovely, lush valley of yours...sheathing myself in their milky-white softness." He heard her breath hitch and watched her eyes widen with patent surprise.
"No conditions. No constraints?" she asked breathlessly.
He smiled. "Those were the terms of the wager, as I recall."
She regarded him with a mix of surprise and something more. Curiosity? Desire? "How is such a thing even done?"
His pulse leaped at her implied acquiescence. He backed her slowly toward the table and gave her a wicked grin. "My dear odalisque, I would be most delighted to show you."
***
He rolled two more towels to support her head and neck before lowering Diana onto her back. The marble table was hot and hard beneath her, but the anticipation of what he would do to her far outweighed her discomfort. His blue gaze flickered like a flame. The intensity of the look, rife with unspent passion, stole her breath away. This was what Salime had spoken of, the ability to cloud his mind of all but desire.
A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere) Page 25