Yasmin glided over to the tray and poured wine for all of us. I excused myself from joining in by saying that I wanted to have all my wits about me the better to appreciate their favors, which seemed to please them. However, I insisted they indulge themselves all they wanted. Very soon, both girls had tucked away a goodly portion of several bottles and were feeling very lively, indeed.
They now set to work on me in earnest, first one resting a bit and looking on, then the other, all of which had me stirred up to an uncommon fever. I'd not felt it this strongly in far too long a time, and knew I would very shortly have to do something about it or suffer mightily.
Taking Yasmin by the hips I turned her back to me and guided her onto my lap. The buoyant effect of the water was both a nuisance and a titillation for it was hard to keep her anchored in one spot. She had to clamp her legs around mine and brace her arms against the pool's edge and one of the steps to hold on. By this time both girls were highly interested in what they were doing, a very important element to my pleasure-taking, for my own satisfaction was ever the greater when the lady was pleased as well. Yasmin, leisurely moving up and down on me, was happily occupied, so I felt free in leaning back along the steps to make room enough between us to draw Samar close across my chest, facing me.
I kissed her through her wet veil, then slowly peeled it to one side to work my way past her jaw and down her throat. Running my tongue over her taut skin, I felt the blood pounding just beneath, tempting me to release it from the vein. Yasmin was just starting to moan as I buried my corner teeth into Samar, who gasped and made a short soft cry. Both women writhed with the rapture of the moment, but because of the nature of our joining, Samar's ecstasy, like mine, continued on and on long after Yasmin's was exhausted. I held Samar close and sipped from her like taking nectar from a flower. Though her breath was heavy and fast, she held herself as still as possible in my arms, then every few seconds a gentle shuddering wave over-swept her body from head to toe. Each time she did this, my own flesh responded, gifting me with a fresh surge of rapture that rushed like flames throughout my whole being.
Time ceased to be. The world ceased. I ceased. I was not a man, but a non-thinking creature of pure flesh and carnal appetite. I was joined to another like to myself, and all that mattered was our shared exultation for as long as we could endure the fiery joy of it.
At some point I became dimly aware of Yasmin gently easing away from me, then drifting around to come close to my side. She ran one of her hands through my hair, down my shoulder and back, and with the other caressed Samar. She would not have done this had she divined what I was really doing to her companion and so must have mistaken it for an especially long kiss. As my awareness of her presence increased I first resented it as an intrusion on what I was doing, but as she began kissing us both, I welcomed it as a new path to try. I blindly reached out for her....
Then Samar arched against me, falling into yet another long shuddering climax; as it rolled through us both, she suddenly went limp in my arms. I felt the change take her, but was so deeply enthralled in sensation that I could do nothing right away. It was a heavy waking, a reluctant waking, for me to go from a state of luxuriant gratification to... to almost nothing at all. I was still drawing blood from her, but her response to it had utterly ceased. Finally rousing, I put my back to Yasmin to block her view and pulled away in sudden fear. Had I hurt Samar? The wounds I'd made were very small; for all the needs and drives of my passion, I'd taken care to be gentle.
I shook her a little, saying her name, but her eyes remained shut. She breathed normally through her slightly open mouth, and though her heart was not thundering as it had been a moment before, its beat was yet steady and strong.
Then was I flooded with quick relief. She'd only fainted. I heaved a thankful sigh. This had happened once or twice before when I'd shared company with Molly Audy back in Glenbriar. The cause was not loss of blood, but too much good feeling.
I guided Samar's lax form over to one side, lifting her up enough so her head and upper body were well out of the water. She'd waken when she was ready.
"Is something wrong, sir?" asked Yasmin.
"Your friend's just having a little rest, nothing more."
Eyes nearly closed so their red color would not cause alarm, I turned my full attention upon her, hands and mouth moving lower and lower on her body until she expressed the worry that I might drown myself. At my suggestion we quit the pool to make use of the backless settee, throwing ourselves upon its silk pillows with no mind to the water still streaming from our bodies.
Yasmin had already taken her pleasure of me, but I was determined to offer her yet another, and resumed my work on her with this in mind. She moved more slowly than before, probably because of her recent climax and the wine she'd consumed. Oddly enough, I felt myself slowing, too, as though my bones were gradually turning to lead. Puzzling for a moment, until I recognized the symptoms and realized the wine in Samar's blood was responsible. Of all things-I was becoming tipsy. I hadn't been drunk since... lord, I couldn't remember. It had been more than a year, at least since my last visit to England. I laughed aloud as I roamed freely over Yasmin's breasts and belly.
"The wise master is enjoying himself," Yasmin said, in a manner to make it half-question, half-observation.
"The wise master is..." but I couldn't think how to finish it, so I fastened my mouth on a place just below Yasmin's navel. It must have tickled her, for she gave a slight jump and squealed. I went on kissing her just there, using my hand on her most intimate area in a way that soon had her squirming.
My corner teeth were well extended and it was a sore temptation to use them to gouge into this soft plain of flesh, but recalling my interest-need-to see to Yasmin's happiness, I progressively worked my way up her body. The quickening of her breath and heartbeat were proof that my efforts were all to the good. Hip to hip, I finally burrowed into her in the normal fashion, then sought out her throat. The sharp gasp that came from her at this double invasion of her person was such as to assure me that her gratification was equal to, if not better than, my own. She pressed her hands first upon my backside to push me in more, then my head to drive me harder against her throat. We thrashed and groaned together like animals in a fever of rut.
She twisted under me, shaking her head side to side; giving in to the heat of the moment, I bit down a little harder, releasing a greater flow of blood. Some of it trickled past my mouth. I raised away from her, but judged that the bleeding wasn't heavy enough to be harmful. With my fingers, I smeared the blood around her throat, first staining her pale skin like paint on a canvas, then licking it clean again. She cried out and demanded more of the same.
Tumbling through my mind and but partially formed was an urge to go beyond this, to somehow carry us just a little distance farther along this path to something even better.
Now I drew my reddened fingers across my own neck and lifted her head that she might kiss it clean as well. She was so caught in the frenzy of the moment she did so without the least demur, licking and biting in imitation of my actions. She could not pierce me in the same manner, but her touch was maddening. Fingers once more at my throat, I now tore hard at my skin, trying to break it.
My nails raked in and I felt the razor-edged sting of success. My blood pattered down on her breasts. The sight and smell of it sent me hungrily back to the wounds I'd made on her. She bucked and moaned as I drank from them, sending her into another peak of pleasure. I tasted the wine she'd had earlier, felt its drowsy strength taking a firmer hold on my body.
I pushed away with an effort. The wine's effect was all the more potent since I'd not had drink in so long a time. Sleep would overcome me if I continued like this, and I wanted no sleep, not now. I wanted, needed, desired better and knew its achievement was very close. Staring at my blood bright upon her fair skin, I understood its import, understood why I'd made myself bleed. She could drink from me, allowing me to ascend to an even greater level of feeling
. I wanted her to take my blood, I wanted her to take and then return it again. Nora had done as much for herself, had she not?
The slashes I'd given myself burned. But if I put Yasmin's cool mouth to them...
That would not be right, though.
My movements were slowing, turning sluggish. I had to hurry or the moment would pass; it would be too late for either of us. Her arms came up, trying to pull me close again, to guide my mouth back where she wanted it. She had no idea yet how much better it could be for us. I did.
But... it would not be right.
Doubt made me falter, made me think despite the wine's influence. Never before had I been taken to the physical point of wanting so badly to share my blood with another;
I'd never allowed myself to go that far because... because...
...it would not be right.
A few more fat drops struck her flesh. A thin stream of it ran from my neck, leaving a hot red trail into the hair of my chest. It would be so easy to cradle her against me, to press her lips against my throat, to let her touch be the means to sweep me out of myself for a time.
I wanted... and could not have. Not this way.
Eyes burning from the frustration I thrust myself fully away from her, sinking straight to the floor. She mumbled something that sounded like a protest. I ignored her. If only she'd just fainted like Samar.
The room dipped once and righted itself. The wine, I thought with a stab of anger, scrubbing my face roughly with the back of one hand. I was light-headed yet sleepy, and the leaden feeling yet possessed the rest of my body. Most definitely the wine.
And the bloodsmell.
It teased and tugged at me. Yasmin's hand fell upon my shoulder, fingers weakly pulling as she asked me to return to her. Sweet heavens, but I wanted to; the girl would have me drain her to death so long as the draining pleasured her. It would do that all right. Well did I remember what it was like to be kissed in that manner, and how I'd hated for Nora to stop.
Removing myself from the immediate temptation of Yasmin's blood, I literally crawled back to the pool and slipped into the water. Remarkably, it was still hot. Some way must have been found to maintain the heat other than constantly pouring in fresh steaming buckets. I wondered if Mandy would part with the name of the one who had designed this miracle so I could have such a bath for my own.
Gladly did I concentrate on such mundane distraction, forcing myself to make use of it until my body calmed, and I could rely on my mind to start thinking again. Not that the thoughts awaiting would be especially comforting.
As my hair was already fairly soaked, I pulled off the ribbon that kept it tied back and completely immersed myself. Instinct made me take a deep breath before going under, but it was hardly necessary. Without the need to regularly breathe, I was able to stay down as long as I wished. It wasn't all that long, though, the water getting into my ears bothered me. I rose to the surface and tried shaking the stuff out again, with indifferent success.
My movements caused Samar to stir. She lay where I'd left her, half in and out of the pool. There was some blood on her throat, but the wounds had closed. Cupping water in my hands, I cleaned her off, which made her wake up a bit. I didn't want to deal with her at this time, though; in answer to a whispered entreaty from me, she swiftly fell asleep again.
I lightly touched the marks I'd left on her. They were small and would give her no trouble. She'd likely had worse from other patrons, or so I told myself. For all the delight that ever passed between myself and my mistresses, I could not help but feel a pang of remorse for having to bring this necessary injury to them. No more than a pang, though. I'd borne such marks as well during my times with Nora and knew they did not hurt; it was only shameful to have to mar such otherwise unblemished skin.
Faint as it was, I could yet smell the blood hanging in the air, but its effect on me was not as it was before. Though pleasant to the nose, the scent of food is less potent to a man once he has a full stomach--unless he's in the thrall of gluttony. My own fit seemed to have passed, thank God.
Yasmin was also starting to recover as well. She moved as though to sit up and murmured a sleepy question concerning my whereabouts. I heaved from the pool to see to her.
God, but she looked like she'd been murdered. Her throat and breasts were a horrific mess, but most of the blood was mine, so I wasn't worried. She only wanted cleaning up right away lest someone else see her or there'd be no end of trouble and alarm. Again, I whispered soothing words to make her forget and sleep, then carried her to the pool. There was water aplenty to completely wash away the evidence of my passion.
Near-madness, more like.
My head was quickly clearing, making it difficult to see how I could have forgotten myself so thoroughly. I wanted to blame the wine. That could easily excuse my actions, but my conscience wouldn't allow it. The wine had had its influence, but the fact was that I'd come too close to losing control. By God's grace or the devil's own luck, I'd found enough strength to stop things before it was too late. Who was I to impart this condition without warning, without consent, to another? I had not the right to pass it on no matter how glorious the physical fulfillment might prove.
As for Nora... well, Nora hadn't been as careful or considerate with me.
No, not fair, for I clearly recalled all that happened between us that night when we'd first exchanged blood. It had been a very deliberate act on her part. She'd asked if I trusted her and I had. If only she'd trusted me in return and given over the knowledge of the change that lay ahead, she'd have saved me much fear and sorrow.
Perhaps she thought her condition to be unique to herself, that it could not be passed on. But if such were so, then why not exchange blood with her other courtiers and afford herself the fullness of carnal pleasure all the time? No, there was some other reason involved. I'd been special to her, or so she said. She might not have wanted to share it with the others, only me. She might not have known I'd become like her and had thought there would be no need to explain things. Perhaps her ignorance about this unnatural state was equal to my own.
Horrible thought, that. I shook it right out of my head.
I carried first Yasmin back to the settee, then Samar, laying them close together and pulling over them some sheets I'd found to spare them from becoming chilled. They made a sweet picture, like two black-haired angels. I went to the chair where they'd put my clothes and found my money purse. They were honest girls, I noted, neither had filched so much as a penny when they'd undressed me earlier, but then Mandy had ever been very strict about that at her other place of business. I placed a guinea each in their hands as they slept. Aware of it or not, they'd performed above and beyond their usual duties for the house and deserved a special vale for their trouble.
The wound I'd made on my neck reminded me of its existence by a prickling itch. I started to scratch and halted just as my fingertips made contact with the flesh. Close, Johnny Boy, close. I might have opened it up again. To eliminate the problem, I vanished for a moment so it could heal. The vanishing was strangely difficult, taking much longer than usual to accomplish; I blamed it on the lingering effect of the wine.
The fire had burned low. I saw to its replenishment for the sake of my drowsing hours, then sought the solace of the bath once more. There was time enough and then some for me to loll and soak in its welcome heat and clean off the last of the blood. The water had turned a bit pink. I tried to think of some way to explain it, should anyone ask, then thought better of it. Say nothing and let them come up with their own reasons, but chances were no one would even notice.
Resting my head on the most shallow of the steps so my face was out of the water, I let my body relax and float. The pool was just large enough for it. I had nothing remotely like it at home-though that might change-and would enjoy the luxury while it was yet mine to have. Already I was forming plans to return to this earthly paradise next week. I might indulge myself with the company of but one lady, though, and see to it t
hat she not partake of any wine or spirits until afterward. Much safer for both of us that way.
Notwithstanding the turmoil of soul my lapse of control had thrown upon me, I was well content with Oliver's munificent gift. I felt tired, refreshed, weak, and strong all at once. Not an easy combination to attain, but wonderfully satisfying. I'd have to think of a suitable thank you to give him in return.
As I mused on possibilities, my quick ears caught the distant beginnings of a commotion taking place elsewhere in the house. Raised voices, from both men and women, but nothing really alarming. One of the men was drunk and singing a bawdy song, sometimes even in key. A little row was only to be expected in a brothel, even in those as well run as this one. Mandy had vast experience in dealing with them, and like any sensible procuress, would have several bully boys in her employ to enforce the peace.
The song soon died away to drunken laughter, then loud talk that progressed up toward my end of the hall. The men had imbibed just enough to make them randy, but not so much to prevent them from doing anything about it, I judged. I hoped their ladies for tonight were as hardy as Mandy claimed, for these noise makers would likely give them a strenuous time of it.
P N Elrod - Barrett 4 - Dance of Death Page 17